“The poet, my lord, belongs to the lowest scale, the same style of board as the small tradesman and bailiff’s clerk; but I repeat, it is to those people only that I give these little surprises.”
Aramis mechanically turned over the leaves of the register, continuing to read the names, but without appearing to take any interest in the names he read.
“In 1661, you perceive,” said Baisemeaux, “eighty entries; and in 1659, eighty also.”
“Ah!” said Aramis. “Seldon; I seem to know that name. Was it not you who spoke to me about a certain young man?”
“Yes, a poor devil of a student, who made—What do you call that where two Latin verses rhyme together?”
“A distich.”
“Yes; that is it.”
“Poor fellow; for a distich.”
“Do you know that he made this distich against the Jesuits?”
“That makes no difference; the punishment seems very severe.”