The same story I had also of M. de Beau-Joyeux, valet of the chamber to the Queen Mother, and the best violin player in Christendom. Not only was he perfect in his art and music generally, but he was likewise of an amiable disposition, and well instructed, above all in excellent tales and fine stories, little known and of rare quality. Of these he was by no means niggardly with his more intimate friends, and beside could relate sundry from his own experience, for in his day he had both seen many good love adventures and had not a few of his own; for what with his noble gift of music and his good, bold spirit, two weapons very meet for love, he could carry far. The Maréchal de Brissac had given him to the Queen Mother, having sent him to her from Piedmont with his company of violins, the whole most exquisite and complete. He was then called Baltazarin, but did after change his name. Of his composition were those pretty ballets that be always danced at Court. He was a great friend of M. du Gua and myself; and we would often converse together. On these occasions he had always some good tale ready to tell, especially of love and ladies’ wiles. Among such he did tell us that of the lady of Ephesus, already heard from M. d’Aurat, as I have mentioned, who said he had it from Lampridius. Since then I have read it also in the _Book of Obsequies_ (des Funérailles), a right excellent work, dedicated to the late M. de Savoie. The author might surely have spared us this digression, some may object. Yea!—but then I was fain to make mention of my friend hereanent, which did oft bring the story to my mind, whenever he beheld any of our woe-begone widows. “Look!” he would exclaim, “see yonder one that will some day play the part of our lady of Ephesus, or else mayhap she hath played it already.” And by my faith, ’twas a mighty strange tragi-comedy, an act full of heartlessness, so cruelly to insult her dead husband. At the massacre of the Saint Bartholomew was slain the Seigneur de Pleuviau, who in his time had been a right gallant soldier, without a doubt, in the War of Tuscany under M. de Soubise, as well as in the Civil War, as he did plainly show at the battle of Jarnac, being in command of a regiment there, and in the siege of Niort. Some while after the soldier which had killed him did inform his late wife, all distraught with grief and tears,—she was both beautiful and wealthy,—that an if she would not marry him, he would kill her and make her go the same way as her husband; for at that merry time, ’twas all fighting and cut-throat work. The unhappy woman accordingly, which was still both young and fair, was constrained, for to save her life, to celebrate wedding and funeral all in one. Yet was she very excusable; for indeed what could a poor fragile, feeble woman have done else, unless it had been to kill herself, or give her tender bosom to the murderous steel? But verily Le temps n’est plus, belle bergeronnette,