“If this was your father’s opinion, noble marquis,” said the Englishman, “it is wonderful that he was able to make you a gift of even ten crowns at his burial. Where can you and he have dwelt, noble marquis, not to be aware that the truth hath more than one countenance? To the vulgar truth hath one aspect, to the learned it hath an hundred aspects. That which a private person such as yourself might consider an army, a veritable potentate might deride as unworthy of his regard. Permit me, noble marquis, to speak a word in your ear. Do not, I pray you, ever mention three hundred men-at-arms to the King of France.” However, during the remainder of that day this matter continued to run much in my thoughts. And this was in despite of Sir Richard’s mode of reasoning, which I lacked the subtlety of mind to seize. Yet I do not want for parts, I think. Philosophy has been current in my mother’s family for at least an hundred years, and as I have said already in this history, her brother Nicholas was a clerk of Salamanca, and wore a purple gown. In the depth of my perplexity I turned again to the Count of Nullepart, who, I am sure, nature had designed to be my guide. But when I mentioned this subject to him for the second time, he sat down on a settle, placed both hands on his knees, and laughed in such an immoderate fashion that the tears rolled down his cheeks. Be all this as it may, we were lodged in the palace of the King, and that evening attended a great entertainment. There were ladies royal and beautiful; gallant and noble gentlemen, illustrious in war and the polite arts; also there was a noise of loud music. In my condition of marquis--I knew not how to disclaim that degree without showing myself deficient in breeding--and honourable envoy to a princess, I was seated at the table of the King of France. Upon either hand were ladies of the blood-royal. If I may venture to be quite candid in this matter--and if I am not my history will have no value, yet I hope such frankness will have no appearance of discourtesy to the household of a king--neither of these ladies was in the blush of youth, nor was she amazingly beautiful. On the score of their wit perhaps I may be excused from speaking; for as they had no Spanish and I had no French, our conversation was not so brilliant as some at the table.