It became necessary for the King to form a new set of company; yet all his authority could assemble but five or six women of rank, and those of the most decried characters, except the last I shall mention. There was Madame de l’Hôpital, an ancient mistress of the Prince de Soubize; the Comtesse de Valentinois, of the highest birth, very rich but very foolish, and as far from a Lucretia as Madame du Barry herself. Madame de Flavacourt was another, a suitable companion to both in virtue and understanding. She was sister to three of the King’s earliest mistresses, and had aimed at succeeding them. The Maréchale Duchesse de  Mirepoix14 was the last, and a very important acquisition.18 No man, no woman in France, had a superior understanding; and it was as agreeable 청주오피 as it was profound. Haughty, but supple, she could command respect even from those that knew her; and could transform herself into, or stoop to, any character that suited her views. All this art, all these talents, were drowned in such an overwhelming passion for play, that though she had long had singular credit with the King, she reduced her favour to an endless solicitation for money to pay her debts. Her constant necessities were a constant source of degrading actions. She had left off red, and acted devotion to attain the post of Dame d’Honneur to the Queen; the very next day she was seen riding backwards with Madame de Pompadour in the latter’s own coach. In one of her moments of poverty she had offended Choiseul by matching her nephew, the Prince d’Henin, with the daughter of Madame de Monconseil, a capital enemy of the Prime Minister, but rich and intriguing.15 To accelerate the Prime Minister’s ruin, to secure her own favour, and in opposition to her19 sister-in-law, the Princesse de Beauvau, Madame de Mirepoix now united herself strictly, not only with the mistress, but with Maréchale Richelieu, who, having killed her first husband, the Prince of Lixin, thirty years before in a duel, had been obliged, as much as possible, to shun her company. But in all this scene of hatred and intrigue, nothing came up to the enmity between the Maréchale and the Princesse. That the latter boasted of it was not surprising. The former, as cool as the Princesse, was outrageous—confessed it too. The first fruits of her complaisance, was a gift of an hundred thousand livres from the King. One day she attempted to explain away this reward to her niece, Madame de Bussy. “It was promised to me,” said Madame de Mirepoix, “a year ago; but from the disorder of the finances I did not obtain it till now; but it was not in consideration of my attention to Madame du Barry.” “No surely, Madam,” replied the other; “it would not have been enough.”16