‘10. The day of their arrival, Morande calls on M. D’Eon to inform him that two French noblemen had been to see him that morning, with their pockets full of gold, to invite him to suppress his work against the Countess Dubarry; but not wishing to conclude any arrangement without first consulting M. D’Eon, who was the first to commence negotiations on this business, the two noblemen had remained in their coach at the corner of the street, and desired to confer with him.’ ‘11. M. D’Eon asks Morande the names of these two French noblemen, and whether they bring letters to him from Versailles or Paris.... Morande declares they wish to preserve the strictest incognito.’ ‘12. M. D’Eon replies that he has no wish to confer with unknown individuals; they might be emissaries of police who would induce him to say what he would rather leave unsaid; that the love affairs of kings were ticklish matters to meddle in.... The only advice he could offer to Morande, encumbered as he is with a wife and family and debts, in so expensive a place as London, and pursuing a dangerous avocation comparable to that of a highwayman, would be to exact the largest sum out of the richest gilt coach he might meet. His own coach could only offer 800_l._ sterling for the suppression of the libel....’ ‘13. A few days later, M. D’Eon learns that the two unknown nobles are, the unknown noble, Caron de Beaumarchais, and the most illustrious and well-known noble, Louis François Brancas, Count de Lauraguais, and that they had concluded an agreement with Théveneau de Morande, in the name of Louis XV., for the suppression of his libel in consideration of the sum of 1,500 louis, in cash, and a life-pension of 4,000 francs, to be reduced to a life-pension of 2,000 livres in favour of his wife, should she survive him....’[289] ‘14. Morande not ceasing to trouble M. D’Eon with his obtrusive visits, the latter was induced to tell him that he was curious to make the acquaintance of such a man as Beaumarchais, because the papers he had published gave him reason to suppose, judging by the boldness of his style and opinions, that there was still a man left in Paris.’ ‘15. ... Morande brought him to my house when he came to London for the third time, and thus we saw each other, led no doubt by a curiosity natural to extraordinary animals to meet one another.’ ‘16. In May, 1775, I saw this rake whom I might call, without offence, by the name of that animal who with his eyes turned up, and his snout to the ground, searches for truffles in my country. After several interviews and conferences, he became acquainted with some of the circumstances of my political and physical condition.’