"You asked me for a rhyme," De Vangrisse reminded him.
"So I did! A rhyme for tout and fou, and you gave me chou!"
"Whereupon you threw your wig at me, and I fled."
"Chou!" repeated Philip with awful scorn. "Chou!"
Gently but firmly Saint-Dantin took the parchment from him.
"You shall read it to us later," he promised. "But now you will dine."
"It goes well before meat," pleaded Philip.
He was answered by ribald protests.
"I'll not listen to your verse on an empty stomach," declared the Vicomte. "Belike I shall appreciate it when in my cups."
"You have no soul," said Philip sadly.