The Duc de V—— was a nobleman of high rank and great wealth. He said to the King one evening at supper, “Your Majesty does me the favour to treat me … - Louis XVIII of France

[T]he mercy which will signalize the first days of our reign, will be invariably united with firmness: that love of our Subjects which leads us to be indulgent, teaches to be just. We shall forgive, without regret, those men, criminal as they are, who have led the People astray; but we shall treat with inexorable rigour, all those who may hereafter endeavour to seduce them from their duty. We will open our arms to those Rebels who may be induced by repentance to return to us; but if any of them should persist in rebellion, they will find that our indulgence will stop at the limits which justice prescribes, and that force will reduce those whom kindness has proved inadequate to attach.

Després (J. B. D.) in his «Essai sur la Marquise de Pompadour» (Bibliothèque des Mémoires rélatifs a L’Histoire de France pendant le XVIII^e Siécle, ed. François Barriére, Paris, 1846, vol. iii. p. 33), says, Mme. de Pompadour dans l’ivresse de la prospérité, répondait à toutes les menaces de l'avenir par ces trois mots, qu'elle répétait souvent: Après nous, le déluge. Charles Desmaze in his Le Reliquaire de M. Q. de La Tour, Paris, 1874, p. 62, note) confirms this on the authority of de La Tour, who heard the Marquise use the expression himself, and told the story to Mdlle Fel, the singer. Larousse (Fleurs Historiques, Paris, 5th ed., n.d., pp. 46–7) cites Henri Martin, the historian (without any references whatever), for a reported conversation between Louis XV and his favourite, in which the king expressed his anxiety about the disturbing elements of the time—the clergy, the philosophers, and—above all—the parliaments, which he declared finiront par perdre L'État. Ce sont des assemblées de républicains! Au reste, les choses comme elles sont, dureront bien autant que moi. Berry [the Dauphin, afterwards Louis XVI] s’en tirera comme il pourra. Après moi le déluge! Martin’s own version of the conversation differs from this, and omits the critical words. (Histoire de la France, 1853, vol. 18, p. 103).The sentiment itself was anticipated by Nero, who on hearing some one repeat the line, Ἐμοῦ θανόντος γαῖα μειχθήτω πυρί (“When I am dead let earth with fire mingle”), rejoined, Immo, ἐμοῦ δἐ ζῶντος (“Aye, and while I am alive too!”): and, as Suetonius (Nero 38) goes on to say, “so it came about, for without any attempt at concealment he proceeded to set the city on fire.” The passage is from Phrynichus, Incert. Fab. 5, 17 (in Wagner’s ed., Paris, Poet. Trag. Gr. Fragmenta, p. 16), the complete distich being:—ἐμοῦ θανόντος γαῖα μιχθήτω πυρί
οὐδὲν μέλει μοι· τἀμὰ γὰρ καλῶς ἔχει.
When I am dead let th’ earth be fused with fire!
I care not, I; for things go well with me.Claudian makes Rufinus exclaim:—Everso juvat orbe mori; solatia letho
Exitium commune dabit. (Rufinus 2, 19)
So the world perish, I'll not ask to live;
Comfort in death the general doom will give.''

We are Frenchmen—a title, which the crimes of a few individuals can no more degrade than the enormities of the Duke of Orleans can pollute the blood of Henry the Fourth. This title, which was ever dear to us, will also render us dear to those who bear it.