"It may be so, and yet it is sad and weary when nothing amuses. But who is there?"
"It is my companion knocking. What is it, mademoiselle?"
"Monsieur Corneille, to read to the king," said the young lady, opening the door.
"Ah, yes, sire; I know how foolish is a woman's tongue, and so I have brought a wiser one than mine here to charm you. Monsieur Racine was to have come, but I hear that he has had a fall from his horse, and he sends his friend in his place. Shall I admit him?"
"Oh, as you like, madame, as you like," said the king listlessly. At a sign from Mademoiselle Nanon a little peaky man with a shrewd petulant face, and long gray hair falling back over his shoulders, entered the room. He bowed profoundly three times, and then seated himself nervously on the very edge of the stool, from which the lady had removed her work-basket. She smiled and nodded to encourage the poet, while the monarch leaned back in his chair with an air of resignation.
"Shall it be a comedy, or a tragedy, or a burlesque pastoral?" Corneille asked timidly.
"Not the burlesque pastoral," said the king with decision. "Such things may be played, but cannot be read, since they are for the eye rather than the ear."
The poet bowed his acquiescence.
"And not the tragedy, monsieur," said Madame de Maintenon, glancing up from her tapestry. "The king has enough that is serious in his graver hours, and so I trust that you will use your talent to amuse him."
"Ay, let it be a comedy," said Louis; "I have not had a good laugh since poor Moliere passed away."