"Never did a labor—never did an explanation fatigue me, sire; and, since the moment is come for me to demand an explanation of my king—"
"Oh, Monsieur Fouquet, an explanation upon what?"
"Upon your majesty's intentions with respect to myself."
The king blushed. "I have been calumniated," continued Fouquet, warmly, "and I feel called upon to provoke the justice of the king to make inquiries."
"You say all this to me very uselessly, Monsieur Fouquet; I know what I know."
"Your majesty can only know things as they have been told to you; and I, on my part, have said nothing to you, while others have spoken many, and many times—"
"What do you wish to say?" said the king, impatient to put an end to this embarrassing conversation.
"I will go straight to the fact, sire; and I accuse a man of having injured me in your majesty's opinion."
"Nobody has injured you, Monsieur Fouquet."
"That reply proves to me, sire, that I am right."