Bonjour, fripon de Chevalier, Qui savait si bien l’art de plaire Que par un bonheur singulier De nos beautés la plus sévère, En faveur d’un tel écolier, Déposant son ton minaudier Et sa sagesse grimacière, Pourrait peut-être s’oublier, Ou plutôt moins se contrefaire. Mon cher, nous le savons trop bien, (Le ciel en tout est bon et sage), Pour un si hardi personnage Dans le fond vous ne valez rien. Croyez moi: reprenez un rôle Que vous jouez plus sûrement. Que votre sexe se console, Du mien vous faites le tourment Et le vôtre, sur ma parole, Vous doit son plus bel ornement. Hélas, malheureux que nous sommes! Vous avez tout pour nous charmer; C’est bien être au-dessus des hommes Que de savoir s’en faire aimer! D’ARNAUD. This revival of popularity was anything but displeasing to the vain Chevalier, whom the ambassador’s death had reduced to a state of comparative oblivion. He did not hesitate to brave ridicule, having furnished sufficient proofs of virility, sword, sabre or pen in hand, and took delight in being talked about. Ladies, especially, showed curiosity, and seemed almost anxious to reckon the dashing Chevalier as one of themselves. Their curiosity encouraged them to ask him point blank for the answer to the enigma, as the daughter of Wilkes, the member of Parliament, did, with audacious ingenuousness: Miss Wilkes presents her compliments to Monsieur the Chevalier d’Eon, and is very anxious to know if he is really a woman, as everybody asserts, or a man. It would be extremely kind of the Chevalier to impart the truth to Miss Wilkes, who earnestly entreats to be informed of it. It would be kinder still of him if he would come and dine with her and her papa, to-day or to-morrow, or, in fact, as soon as he is able to do so.