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 we bow is one Concini. Now, Chamaille, don't look at me like that, if you like it better, we will say that the Duke of Nevers is our ruler just now. Blessings on his head! I admire and respect him, but when he of the Louvre raises his voice our Duke is silent, and a good thing too!"

"I wish it were good," said Paillard, "but as the proverb says, when the sun is hid, you see the stars, and since the death of our lamented Henry, the whole kingdom is under petticoat government, princes and all; you know who profits by the sport of nobles; there are plenty to dip their fingers in the bag of gold, (the price of future triumphs,) that Sully has laid up there in the Arsenal. How long, O Lord? before these thieves are brought to justice!"

This was the signal for us to break out and talk with the utmost imprudence; for we had now hit on a tune which we could all sing, and we did sing it with variations on princes, hypocrites, lazy monks, and fat prelates. It is only fair to Chamaille to say that his improvisations on this theme were by far the most brilliant; but the trio continued in most melodious measure to chant of bitter and sweet, of those who have too much faith, and those who have none; fanatics. Huguenots, bigots, and fools who think that they can put the fear of