"The order to arrest the Chevalier Gaston de Chanlay, and place him in the Bastille," cried the regent. "Ah! I see now why you bribed me with a good action; but stay, this requires reflection." "Do you think I propose to you an abuse of power, monseigneur?" asked Dubois, laughing. "No, but yet--" "Monseigneur," continued Dubois, "when we have in our hands the government of a kingdom, the thing most necessary is, to govern." "But it seems to me that I am the master." "To reward, yes; but on condition of punishing--the balance of justice is destroyed, monseigneur, if an eternal and blind mercy weighs down one of the scales. To act as you always wish, and often do, is not good, but weak. What is the reward of virtue, if you do not punish vice?" "Then," said the regent, the more impatiently that he felt he was defending a bad though generous cause, "if you wished me to be severe, you should not have brought about an interview between me and this young man; you should not have given me the opportunity of appreciating his worth, but have allowed me to suppose him a common conspirator." "Yes; and now, because he presented himself to your highness under a romantic guise, your artistic imagination runs away with you. Diable! monseigneur, there is a time for everything; so chemistry with Hubert, engraving with Audran, music with Lafare, make love with the whole world--but politics with me." "Mon Dieu!" said the regent, "is it worth while to defend a life, watched, tortured, calumniated as mine is?"