"Yes, I understand; all the ladies-in-waiting adore you, sire." "They are my neighbors, Chicot." "Then, sire, it might result from this, that if you lived at St. Denis instead of Nerac, the king might not live very tranquilly." "The king! what do you say, Chicot? Do you think I am a Guise? I wish for Cahors, it is true, because it is near to me." "Ventre de biche, sire, this ambition for things within the reach of your hand resembles much that of Cæsar Borgia, who gathered together a kingdom, city by city; saying that Italy was an artichoke to be eaten leaf by leaf." "This Cæsar Borgia was not a bad politician, it seems to me, compere." "No, but he was a very dangerous neighbor and a bad brother." "Ah! would you compare me to the son of a pope--I, a Huguenot chief?" "Sire, I compare you to no one." "Why not?" "I believe he would be wrong who should liken you to any other than yourself. You are ambitious, sire." "Here is a man determined to make me want something," cried Henri. "God forbid, sire; I desire with all my heart, on the contrary, that your majesty should want nothing." "Nothing calls you back to Paris, does it, Chicot?" "No, sire." "Then you will pass some days with me?" "If your majesty does me the honor to wish for my company, I ask no better than to give you a week." "So be it; in a week you will know me like a brother. Drink, Chicot." "Sire, I am no longer thirsty," said Chicot, who had given up all hopes of seeing the king take too much. "Then, I will leave you; a man should not stay at table when he does nothing. Drink, I tell you." "Why, sire?" "To sleep better. Do you like the chase, Chicot?" "Not much, sire; and you?" "Passionately; since I lived at the court of Charles IX." "Why did your majesty do me the honor to ask me?" "Because I hunt to-morrow, and thought to take you with me." "Sire, it would be a great honor, but--" "Oh! this chase will rejoice all eyes; besides, I am a good hunter, and I wish you to see me to advantage." "Sire, I am at your orders." "Good! then it is settled. Ah! here is a page to disturb us." "Some important business, sire?" "Business at table! You think you are still at the court of France, my dear Chicot. Learn one thing; at Nerac, when we have supped, we go to bed." "But this page?" "Well, cannot he come for anything but business?" "Ah! I understand: and I will go to bed." Chicot rose; the king did the same, and took his arm. This haste to send him away appeared suspicious to Chicot, and he determined not to leave the room if he could help it. "Oh! oh!" said he, tottering, "it is astonishing, sire." The king smiled. "What is astonishing?" "Ventre de biche! my head turns; while I sat still, it was all very well, but when I rise--" "Bah!" said Henri, "we only tasted the wine." "You call that tasting, sire? You are a drinker, and I do you homage, as to my superior."