"Even when he had me insulted in my litter, as happened near Sens, when I left Paris to rejoin you, sire."
"When one has a brother whose own conduct is irreproachable," said Henri, in an indefinable tone between jest and earnest, "a brother a king, and very punctilious—"
"He ought to care for the true honor of his sister and of his house. I do not suppose, sire, that if your sister, Catherine d'Albret, occasioned some scandal, you would have it published by a captain of the guards."
"Oh! I am like a good-natured bourgeois, and not a king; but the letter, the letter; since it was addressed to me, I wish to know what it contains."
"It is a perfidious letter, sire."
"Bah!"
"Oh! yes, and which contains more calumnies than are necessary to embroil a husband with his wife, and a friend with his friends."
"Oh! oh! embroil a husband with his wife; you and me then?"
"Yes, sire."
Chicot was on thorns; he would have given much, hungry as he was, to be in bed without supper.