He was a great favourite with the ladies; but he attached himself to no one in particular. They called him "The handsome indifferent." All these attacks upon him failed to produce any change in his manner. He rarely quitted Furibon; and that association served but to make the latter appear more hideous. The little brute never spoke to a lady but to utter some rudeness. Sometimes he would find fault with their dress. Sometimes he would tell them their manners were coarse and countrified. He would accuse them publicly of being painted, and eagerly carried every scandalous story he could pick up about them to the queen, who would not only reprimand them severely, but make them fast by way of punishment. All this caused them mortally to hate Furibon; this he perceived, and generally resented it on the young Leander. "You are vastly happy," said he, looking at him askance; "the women praise and applaud you; they are not so indulgent to me." "My lord," said Leander, modestly, "their respect for you prevents such familiarity." "They are quite right," rejoined Furibon; "I should beat them into a jelly to teach them their duty."
One day, some ambassadors having arrived at the court from a far country, the prince, accompanied by Leander, went into a gallery to see them pass. As soon as the envoys saw Leander they advanced towards him with profound salutations, evincing by signs their admiration. Then observing Furibon they took him for his dwarf, laid hold of him by the arm and, turned him round and round in spite of all his resistance. Leander was in despair; he exhausted himself with his efforts to make them understand that it was the king's son they were treating so unceremoniously, but all in vain; and unfortunately the interpreter was awaiting them in the hall of audience. Finding that they did not comprehend his signs, Leander humbled himself still more before Furibon; but the ambassadors as well as the persons in their suite, imagining this was in jest, laughed till they were almost in fits, and filliped the prince on his nose, after the fashion of their own country. Furibon, transported with rage, drew his little sword, which was not longer than a lady's fan, and had certainly done some mischief had not the king advanced to meet the ambassadors, and to his great surprise observed the commotion. He apologised to them, for he spoke their language. They