"Your majesty overwhelms me with joy," cried the young man, kissing Henri's hand as though he had made him duke, peer, or marshal of France. "Then it is settled?"
"On my word as a king and a gentleman."
Something like a smile passed over the lips of Du Bouchage; he bowed respectfully to the king and took leave.
"What a happy young man," said Henri.
"Oh!" said Chicot, "you need not envy him; he is not more doleful than yourself."
"But, Chicot, he is going to give himself up to religion."
"And who the devil prevents you from doing the same? I know a cardinal who will give all necessary aid, and he has more interest at Rome than you have; do you not know him? I mean the Cardinal de Guise."
"Chicot!"
"And if the tonsure disquiets you, for it is rather a delicate operation, the prettiest hands and the prettiest scissors—golden scissors, ma foi!—will give you this precious symbol, which would raise to three the number of the crowns you have worn, and will justify the device, 'Manet ultima coelo.'"
"Pretty hands, do you say?"