Pisistratus.—"The great Condé a poet!—I never heard that before."
Mr Caxton.—"I don't say he was a poet, but he sent a poem to Madame de Montansier. Envious critics think that he must have paid somebody else to write it; but there is no reason why a great Captain should not write a poem—I don't say a good poem, but a poem. I wonder, Roland, if the Duke ever tried his hand at 'Stanzas to Mary,' or 'Lines to a sleeping babe.'"
Captain Roland.—"Austin, I'm ashamed of you. Of course the Duke could write poetry if he pleased—something, I dare say, in the way of the great Condé—that is something warlike and heroic, I'll be bound. Let's hear!"
Mr Caxton, reciting—
"Telle est du Ciel la loi sévère
Qu'il faut qu'un enfant ait un père;
On dit même quelque fois
Tel enfant en a jusqu'à trois."
Captain Roland, greatly disgusted.—"Condé write such stuff!—I don't believe it."
Pisistratus.—"I do, and accept the quotation—you and Roland shall be joint fathers to my child as well as myself."
"Tel enfant en a jusqu'à trois."
Mr Caxton, solemnly.—"I refuse the proffered paternity; but so far as administering a little wholesome castigation, now and then, I have no objection to join in the discharge of a father's duty."
Pisistratus.—"Agreed; have you anything to say against the infant hitherto?"