"No indeed! His hair is as black as yours and mine,--as mine was, that is. All! you have never seen him? Well, just come in casually some time to borrow something, and I'll show him to you. He's a handsome man, and would make a superb archer." "Apropos of handsome men, how is our comely youth to-day? The wounded man, I mean, the attractive young apprentice who received such a terrible wound in saving the provost's life." "Ascanio? Pray do you know him?" "Do I know him! He promised my young mistress Colombe and myself to show us his jewels. Remind him of it, if you please, my dear madame. But all this doesn't answer my question, and Colombe will be very glad to know that her father's savior is out of danger." "Oh! you can tell her that he is doing very well. He got up just now. But the surgeon has forbidden his leaving his room, although I think a breath of fresh air would do him a world of good. It's out of the question, though, in this burning sun. Your Grand-Nesle garden is a veritable desert. Not a shaded spot anywhere; no vegetation but nettles and briers, and four or five leafless trees. It's enormous, but very unpleasant to walk in. Our master consoles himself with tennis, but poor Ascanio isn't well enough yet to hold a racket, and must be bored to death. He's so active, the dear boy,--I speak of him in that way because he's my favorite, and is always courteous to his ciders. He's not like that bear of a Pagolo, or Catherine the giddy-pate." "And you say that the poor fellow--" "Must be eating his heart out with having to pass whole days on a couch in his bedroom." "Mon Dieu!" exclaimed kind-hearted Dame Perrine, "pray tell the poor boy to come over to the Petit-Nesle, where there is such beautiful shade. I will gladly admit him, although Messire le Prévôt has expressly forbidden it. Why, it would be most virtuous in me to disobey him, in order to benefit the man who saved his life. And you talk of ennui! We are the ones who are drying up with it. The comely apprentice will divert us; he will tell us tales of his Italy, and show us his necklaces and bracelets, and chatter with Colombe. Young folks like to be together and prattle, and they languish in solitude. So it's agreed, isn't it? Just tell your Benjamin that he's at liberty to come and walk in our garden whenever he pleases, provided he comes alone, or with you, Dame Ruperte, to give him your arm. Knock four times, the first three gently and the last louder: I shall know what it means, and I will come and open the door." "Thanks for Ascanio and myself; I will not fail to tell him of your amiable offer, and he will not fail to avail himself of it." "I am delighted to think so, Dame Ruperte." "_Au revoir_, Dame Perrine! Charmed to have made the acquaintance of such an estimable person." "The same to you, Dame Ruperte." The two gossips bowed low to each other, and parted with mutual satisfaction.