Peter: Prythee speak plainlier.
Chancellor: He said calmly, but not without sighing twice or thrice, "Lead me to the scaffold; I am weary of life. My father says, too truly, I am not courageous, but the death that leads me to my God shall never terrify me." When he heard your majesty's name accusing him of treason and attempts at parricide, he fell speechless. We raised him up: he was dead!
Peter: Inconsiderate and barbarous varlet as thou art, dost thou recite this ill accident to a father—and to one who has not dined? Bring me a glass of brandy. Away and bring it: scamper! Hark ye! bring the bottle with it: and—hark ye! a rasher of bacon on thy life! and some pickled sturgeon, and some krout and caviar.
II.—Joseph Scaliger and Montaigne
Montaigne: What could have brought you, M. de l'Escale, other than a good heart? You rise early, I see; you must have risen with the sun, to be here at this hour. I have capital white wine, and the best cheese in Auvergne. Pierre, thou hast done well; set it upon the table, and tell Master Matthew to split a couple of chickens and broil them.
Scaliger: This, I perceive, is the ante-chamber to your library; here are your every-day books.
Montaigne: Faith! I have no other. These are plenty, methinks.
Scaliger: You have great resources within yourself, and therefore can do with fewer.
Montaigne: Why, how many now do you think here may be?
Scaliger: I did not believe at first that there could be above fourscore.