"'T is thus. The king, you see, had given the Hôtel de Nesle to our bailli, a most venerable man, who stood guard over the privileges of the University, and tried all suits against it in most paternal fashion: superb functions his! Unhappily our excellent bailli was so just--so just--to us, that his office was abolished two years since, upon the pretext that he used to sleep when hearing causes, as if _bailli_ were not derived from _bâiller_ (to yawn). His office being thus suppressed, the duty of protecting the interests of the University was intrusted to the Provost of Paris. A fine protector, on my word! as if we could not quite as well protect ourselves! How, our said provost--dost thou follow me, my child?--our said provost, who is most rapacious, opined that, since he succeeded to the bailli's office, he ought at the same time to inherit his possessions, and so he quietly laid hold of the Grand and Petit-Nesle, thanks to the patronage of Madame d'Etampes." "And yet, you say, he does not occupy it." "Not he, the villain. I think, however, that the old Cassandre lodges a daughter there, or niece, a lovely child called Colombe or Colombine, or some such name, and keeps her under lock and key in a corner of the Petit Nesle." "Ah! is it so?" exclaimed the artist, hardly able to breathe, for it was the first time that he had heard his mistress's name; "this usurpation seems to me a shocking abuse. What! this vast hotel to shelter one young girl with her duenna!" "Whence comest thou, O stranger, not to know that nothing comes to pass more naturally than this abuse,--that we poor clerks should live six together in a wretched garret, while a great nobleman casts this immense property with its gardens, lawns, and tennis-court to the dogs!" "Ah! there is a tennis-court!" "Magnificent, my son! magnificent!" "But this Hôtel de Nesle, you say, is actually the property of King François I." "To be sure: but what would you have King François I. do with this property of his?" "Why, give it to others, as the provost doesn't occupy it." "Very good: then go and ask it of him for yourself." "Why not? Tell me, does the game of tennis please your fancy?" "I fairly dote on it." "In that case I invite you to a game with me next Sunday." "Where, pray?" "At the Hôtel de Nesle." "Gramercy! my lord grand master of the royal châteaux! 'T is meet that you should know my name at least--"