“‘A dead man,’ answered a courtier.
“‘A drunken tinker,’ answered an attendant, turning over the body of a man lying like a log in the snow. ‘How he snores! Dead drunk, as I live!’
“‘He would perish here before morning,’ said the Duke.
“‘What is to be done?’ asked a courtier.
“‘Take him to the palace, and we will have some sport with him. I will cause him to be washed and dressed and perfumed, and to be laid in a chamber of state. He will awake sober in the morning, when we will persuade him that he is the Duke, and that we are his attendants. To-morrow the whole Court of Burgundy shall serve a poor tinker!’
“The attendants carried the unconscious tinker to the palace, where they washed him, and, putting upon him an elegant night-dress, laid him on a silk-curtained bed, in a very gorgeous chamber.
“The poor tinker, on waking in the morning, looked about the room in wonder. He concluded that he must be dreaming, or that he had become touched in mind, or that he had died the night before and had been so happy as to get to heaven.
“At last, the Duke entered the apartment in the habit of the ducal chamberlain.
“‘What will your Worship have this morning?’ asked the Duke.
“The tinker stared.