With that the duke took leave of Madame d'Etampes, and walked away, enchanted with the unexpected turn the negotiations had taken. "Now it is my purpose to speak plainly and without circumlocution," said the duchess to Comte d'Orbec, when she was alone with Ascanio and him. "You know three things, count: first, that it is most important for my friends and myself that my power should at this moment be put beyond question and beyond the reach of attack; secondly, that when this arrangement is once carried through, we shall have no occasion to dread the future, that Charles d'Orléans will fill the place of François I., and that the Duke of Milan, whom I shall have made what he is, will owe me much more gratitude than the King of France, who has made me what I am; thirdly, that your Colombe's beauty has made a vivid impression upon his Majesty. Very well! I address myself now, count, to the superior individual, who is not influenced by vulgar prejudices. You hold your fate in your own hands at this moment: do you choose that Trésorier d'Orbec should succeed Chancelier Poyet, or, in more positive terms, that Colombe d'Orbec should succeed Marie de Brissac?" Ascanio in his horror made a movement which D'Orbec did not notice, as he met the searching gaze of Madame d'Etampes with a villanous leer. "I desire to be chancellor," he replied briefly. "Good! then we are both saved. But what of the provost?" "Oh," said the count, "you can find some fat office for him; only let it be lucrative rather than honorable, I beg; it will all fall to me when the gouty old rascal dies." Ascanio could contain himself no longer. "Madame!" he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, stepping forward. He had no time to say more, the count had no time to be astonished, for the folding doors were thrown open and the whole court flocked in. Madame d'Etampes roughly seized Ascanio's hand, and drew him aside with her, as she said in his ear, in a suppressed voice, trembling with passion,-- "Now do you see, young man, how one becomes a king's plaything, and whither life sometimes leads us, in our own despite?" She said no more. Her words were interrupted by the uproarious good humor and witty sallies of the king and courtiers. François I. was radiant, for Charles V. was coming. There would be receptions, fêtes, surprises,--a glorious part for him to play. The whole world would have its eyes fixed upon Paris and its king. He looked forward with childish joy to the performance of the drama of which he held all the threads. It was his nature to look at everything on the brilliant rather than on the serious side, to aim more at effect than anything else, and to look upon battles as tournaments, and upon royalty as an art. With a mind well stored with strange, poetic, adventurous ideas, François I. made of his reign a theatrical performance, with the world for play-house.