“Duke,” said the King, laughing: “That is a fine maxim which I like to hear coming from your mouth. But I defy you to shout it out on the market-place.”
“Oh, I am well aware that it would make the philosophers fly to arms,” replied the old politician; “but I do not believe their cries or their arms much daunt your Majesty or me. The main point is that the two preponderating wills of the realm should be satisfied. Well, I shall speak out courageously to your Majesty, though I incur my disgrace or even my death—I cannot subscribe to the will of Lady Dubarry.”
Louis was silent.
“But then,” went on the duke, “is that ever to be the only other will? the contrary idea struck me the other day, when I looked around the court and saw the beavy of radiantly beauteous noble girls; were I the ruler of France, the choice would not be difficult to make.”
Louis turned to the second guest, who, feeling that he was being brought into the arena, was palpitating with hope and fear while trying to inspire the marshal, like a boy blows on the sail of his toy-boat in a tub of water.
“Is this your way of thinking, baron?” he asked.
“Sire,” responded the baron with a swelling heart, “it seems to me that the duke is saying capital things.”
“You agree with him about the handsome girls?”
“Why, my lord, it is plain that the court is adorned with the fairest blossoms of the country.”
“Do you exhort me then to make a choice among the court beauties?”