“What journey do you allude to?”
“The one across the Styx, sire.”
“Bah!” said Louis XIV., laughing.
“No, seriously, sire,” replied Saint-Aignan, “I am invited; and in such a way, in truth, that I hardly know what to say, or how to act, in order to refuse the invitation.”
“I do not understand you. I know that you are in a poetical vein; but try not to sink from Apollo to Phoebus.”
“Very well; if your majesty will deign to listen to me, I will not keep your mind on the rack a moment longer.”
“Speak.”
“Your majesty knows the Baron du Vallon?”
“Yes, indeed; a good servant to my father, the late king, and an admirable companion at table; for, I think, you are referring to the gentleman who dined with us at Fontainebleau?”
“Precisely so; but you have omitted to add to his other qualifications, sire, that he is a most charming polisher-off of other people.”