"What's that you say, viscount? Why, he is a nobleman, and of the most venerable nobility!" said the duchess, with a laugh. "Do you know of many among our oldest families who descend from a lieutenant of Julius Cæsar, and who have the three _fleurs-de-lis_ and the _lambel_ of the house of Anjou in their crest? 'T is not the king who honors the sculptor by speaking to him, messieurs, as you see; the sculptor, on the other hand, confers honor upon the king by condescending to address him." "François I. and Cellini were in fact conversing at that moment with the familiarity to which the great ones of earth had accustomed the chosen artist of Heaven. "Well, Benvenuto," the king was saying, "how do we come on with our Jupiter?" "I am preparing to cast it, Sire." "And when will that great work be performed?" "Immediately upon my return to Paris, Sire." "Take our best foundrymen, Cellini, and omit nothing to make the operation successful. If you need money, you know that I am ready." "I know that you are the greatest, the noblest, and the most generous king on earth, Sire," replied Benvenuto; "but thanks to the salary which your Majesty orders paid to me, I am rich. As to the operation concerning which you are somewhat anxious, Sire, I will, with your gracious permission, rely upon my own resources to prepare and execute it. I distrust all your French foundrymen, not that they are unskilful, but because I am afraid that their national pride will make them disinclined to place their skill at the service of an artist from beyond the Alps. And I confess, Sire, that I attach too much importance to the success of my Jupiter to allow any other than myself to lay hand to it." "Bravo, Cellini, bravo!" cried the king; "spoken like a true artist." "Moreover," added Benvenuto, "I wish to be entitled to remind your Majesty of the promise you made me." "That is right, my trusty friend. If we are content with it, we are to grant you a boon. We have not forgotten. Indeed, if we should forget, we bound ourselves in the presence of witnesses. Is it not so, Montmorency? and Poyet? Our constable and our chancellor will remind us of our plighted word." "Ah! your Majesty cannot conceive how precious that word has become to me since the day it was given." "Very well! it shall be kept, Monsieur. But the doors are open. To table, messieurs, to table!" François thereupon joined the Emperor, and the two together walked at the head of the procession formed by the illustrious guests. Both wings of the folding doors being thrown open, the two sovereigns entered side by side and took places facing each other, Charles between Eleanora and Madame d'Etampes, François between Catherine de Medicis and Marguerite de Navarre.