"There is yet something more," said the voice.
"I acknowledge to have plotted with my excellent mother, Catherine de' Medicis, to hunt from France my brother-in-law the King of Navarre, after first destroying all his friends, and my sister Queen Marguerite, after first destroying all her lovers; and I repent bitterly."
"Scoundrel! Cease!" muttered the King, his teeth clenched in anger.
"Sire, it is no use trying to hide what Providence knows as well as we do."
"There is a crime unconfessed that has nothing to do with politics," said the voice.
"Ah, now we are getting to it," observed Chicot dolefully; "it is about my conduct, I suppose?"
"It is," answered the voice.
"I cannot deny," continued Chicot, always speaking in the name of the King, "that I am very effeminate, very lazy; a hopeless trifler, an incorrigible hypocrite."
"It is true," said the voice.
"I have behaved ill to all women, to my own wife in particular; and such a good wife too."