"Ah! I knew it, Du Bouchage. You are worldly-minded even in your rigorousness, my poor boy. Oh! I know very well what reason you are going to give me. Yes, you are, indeed, a man of the world; you resemble those young men who offer themselves as volunteers, and are eagerly desirous for fire, balls, and blows, but care not for working in the trenches, or for sweeping out the tents. There is some resource left yet, Henri; so much the better, so much the better."
"Give me the dispensation I ask; I entreat you on my knees."
"I promise it to you; I will write to Rome for it. It will be a month before the answer arrives; but, in exchange, promise me one thing."
"Name it."
"That you will not, during this month's postponement, reject any pleasure or amusement which may be offered to you; and if, in a month hence, you still entertain the same projects, Henri, I will give you this dispensation with my own hand. Are you satisfied now, and have you nothing further to ask me?"
"No. I thank you; but a month is a long time, and the delay will kill me."
"In the meantime, and in order to change your thoughts, will you object to breakfast with me? I have some agreeable companions this morning."
And the prelate smiled in a manner which the most worldly disposed favorites of Henri III. would have envied.
"Brother," said De Bouchage, resisting.
"I will not accept any excuse; you have no one but myself here, since you have just arrived from Flanders, and your own house cannot be in order just yet."