“‘Sire,’ replied the learned man, who was almost as near death as himself, ‘I will sum it up for you in three words: _They were born, they suffered, they died!_’ “Thus did the king of Persia learn the history of the world in the evening of his life.” XVII MONSIEUR NICODÈME While, at the sign of the _Image de Sainte Catherine_, my good master, seated on the highest rung of the ladder, was reading Cassiodorus with great pleasure, an elderly man came into the shop, of an arrogant air, and severe aspect. He went straight to Monsieur Blaizot, who smilingly stretched his head over the counter. “Monsieur,” he said, “you are sworn bookseller, and I must take you for a well-conducted man. Nevertheless, in your display of goods a volume of the works of Ronsard is open at the frontispiece, which represents a naked woman. And it is a thing not fit to be looked at.” “Pardon me, Monsieur,” replied Monsieur Blaizot, gently, “it is a frontispiece of Léonard Gautier’s who, in his day, was considered a very able draughtsman.” “It matters little to me,” replied the elder, “that the draughtsman was clever. All that I take into consideration is that he represented nudities. This figure has nothing on but its hair, and I am grievously surprised, Monsieur, that a man of age and prudence, such as you appear, should expose it to the gaze of the young men who frequent the Rue St. Jacques. You would do well to burn it, following the example of Father Garasse, who expended his means in acquiring, in order to burn them, a number of books opposed to public decency and to the Society of Jesus. At least, it would be more decent in you to hide it in the most secret recess of your shop, which conceals, I fear, many a book calculated to excite minds to vice, not only by their text, but by their plates.” Monsieur Blaizot replied, reddening, that such a suspicion was unjust, and it grieved him coming from a worthy man.