No, nothing. Corneille still upsets all heads. Guiche has obtained the order; Ast is duke. Of trifles, plenty--thirty Huguenots Were hung; a quantity of duels. On The third, D'Angennes fought Arquien on account Of wearing point of Genoa; the tenth, Lavardie had a rendezvous with Pons, Because he'd taken Sourdis' wife from him. Sourdis and D'Ailly met about a creature In the theater Mondori. On the ninth, Lachâtre fought with Nogent because he wrote Three rhymes of Colletet's badly; Margaillan With Gorde, about the time of day; D'Humière With Gondi on the way to walk in church; And all the Brissacs 'gainst all the Soubises For some bet on a horse against a dog. Then Caussade and Latournelle fought for nothing-- Merely for fun: Caussade killed Latournelle. BRICHANTEAU. Gay Paris! Duels have begun again. GASSÉ. It is the fashion! BRICHANTEAU. Feasts and love and fighting! There is the only place to live! [_Yawning._] All one Can do here is to die of weariness. [_To Gassé._] You say Caussade killed Latournelle? GASSÉ. He did, With a good gash! [_Examining Rochebaron's sleeves._ What's that you wear, my friend? Those trimmings are not fashionable now. What! cords and buttons? Nothing could be worse. You must have bows and ribbons. BRICHANTEAU. Pray repeat The list of duels. How about the King? What does he say? GASSÉ. The Cardinal's enraged And means to stop it. BOUCHAVANNES. Any news from camp? GASSÉ. I think we captured Figuère by surprise-- Or else we lost it. [_Reflecting._] Yes, that's it. 'Tis lost! They took it from us. ROCHEBARON. Ah! What said the King? GASSÉ. The Cardinal is most dissatisfied. BRICHANTEAU. How is the Court? I hope the King is well. GASSÉ. Alas! the Cardinal has fever and The gout, and goes out only in a litter. BRICHANTEAU. Queer! We talk King, you answer Cardinal! GASSÉ. It is the fashion! BOUCHAVANNES. So there's nothing new! GASSÉ. Did I say so? There's been a miracle, A prodigy, which has amazed all Paris For two months past; the flight, the disappearance-- BRICHANTEAU. Go on! Of whom? GASSÉ. Of Marion de Lorme, The fairest of the fair! BRICHANTEAU (_with an air of mystery_). Here's news for you. She's here! GASSÉ. At Blois? BRICHANTEAU. Incognito! GASSÉ. What! she? In this place? Oh, you must be jesting, sir! Fair Marion, who sets the fashions! Bah! This Blois is the antipodes of Paris. Observe! How ugly, old, ungainly, 'tis! Even those towers-- [_Indicating the towers of St. Nicholas._ Uncouth and countrified! ROCHEBARON. That's true. BRICHANTEAU.