"King of France," said the old man, in a fierce and impetuous tone, "these demands are outrageous. They are insulting to the people of Florence; and thus I deal with them;" and as he spoke he tore the paper in pieces and flung the fragments on the floor. "I tell you, sire," he continued, "that nothing like these terms will be granted. Our course is taken; our minds are made up. We were all willing to pay you due respect,--to grant all that might be requisite for your security, or to assist you for your comfort. But we will not be treated as a conquered people till we are conquered; and, even then, we will be the slaves of no man. Either propose terms in reason, or else--why, sound your trumpets and we will toll our bells, and on him who is the aggressor fall the guilt of all the blood which will dye our streets." "Good God! the man is mad," exclaimed one of the king's councillors. "_Mère de Dieu!_" cried another, "he has had the insolence to tear the edict!" "We are ready to obey your Majesty's commands," said the stern Montpensier, in a cold tone. "I go to take orders against an outbreak, sire," said La Tremouille, in a low voice, "it is not to be concealed that we are in a somewhat dangerous position here." "Sire, you had better get out of the rat-trap," said De Vitry, "I will guard you with my men-at-arms, and keep one gate open for the rest to follow. My head for your safety; and once out we shall soon bring these gentlemen to reason." "Peace," said the king, "peace, my friends. Let me speak.--You have done wrong, sir, to tear that paper," he continued with an air of much dignity, addressing the bold old man. "We had not read it ourselves. It was far from our intention to demand any outrageous terms; but only such as a republic might expect who had refused our friendship and set at nought our proffers of alliance. Hastily drawn up by our council, and tendered to you here more as an outline of what might be our demands than as what they actually are, the paper may have contained something you could not comply with, but nothing to warrant so much heat, I think. Have you a copy, my Lord Bishop?" "Here is one, sire," replied the minister, handing him a paper.