That was not all. He was equally affable with artists. He talked daily with the painters in the Louvre; and having paid a visit to the great actor Le Kain, whom he had seen the night before in the character of a Roman emperor, he found him like Buffon in a dressing-gown.
When Le Kain would have apologized, the emperor had said, "Surely emperors need not be so fastidious one toward the other!"
"The emperor goes everywhere," cried a voice in the crowd. "Yesterday he paid a visit to one of the tribunals and remained during the sitting. He was recognized, and the president would have assigned him a seat among the council, but the emperor declined and remained in a trellised-box with the other spectators."
"How!" cried another voice, "the emperor sat in a little common trellised-box?"
"Yes," replied the first speaker, "he was in one of those boxes called lanterns. Even Marsorio and Pasquin had something to say on the subject." [Foreword: Marsorio and Pasquin were the anonymous wits of the people, the authors of all the epigrams and pasquinades which were pasted about the streets and originated with—nobody. Marsorio and Pasquin still exist in Rome.]
"What did they say? Tell us what said our good friends, Marsorio and
Pasquin."
"Here it is. I found it pasted on a corner of the Palais Royal and I tore it down and put it in my pocket. Shall I read it?"
"Yes, yes," cried the multitude; and it was whispered among them that this was Riquelmont, the author of the satires that were sung on the Pont-Neuf, and were attributed to Marsorio and Pasquin.
"Now, gentlemen, listen!"
And with a loud voice, Riquelmont began to read: