It is not to your honor to let yourself be guided by flayers of beasts and a lot of lewd fellows. I can guarantee that a hundred burgesses of Paris, of the highest character, would undertake to attend you everywhere, and do whatever you should bid them, and even lend you money if you wanted it.” The duke listened patiently, but answered that he had done no wrong in the case of the Duke of Orleans, and would never confess that he had. “As to the fellows of whom you speak,” said he, “I know my own business.” Juvenal returned home without much belief in the duke’s firmness. He himself, full of courage as he was, durst not yet declare himself openly. The thought of all this occupied his mind incessantly, sleeping and waking. One night, when he had fallen asleep towards morning, it seemed to him that a voice kept saying, _Surgite cum sederitis, qui manducatis panem doloris_ (Rise up from your sitting, ye who eat the bread of sorrow). When he awoke, his wife, a good and pious woman, said to him, “My dear, this morning I heard some one saying to you, or you pronouncing in a dream, some words that I have often read in my Hours;” and she repeated them to him. “My dear,” answered Juvenal, “we have eleven children, and consequently great cause to pray God to grant us peace; let us hope in Him, and He will help us.” He often saw the Duke of Berry. “Well, Juvenal,” the old prince would say to him, “shall this last forever? Shall we be forever under the sway of these lewd fellows?” “My lord,” Juvenal would answer, “hope we in God; yet a little while and we shall see them confounded and destroyed.”