though in his inmost heart he did curse his fate an hundred times over, which has so constrained him not to reveal, like the rest of them, his success and triumph, ever more sweet to tell of than defeat.
Another I once knew, and a right gallant gentleman, by reason of his presumption and overmuch freedom of speech in proclaiming of his mistress' name, the which he should have held sacred, as much by signs and tokens as by actual words, did come parlous near his death in a murderous attack he but barely escaped from. Yet afterward on another count he did not so escape the assassins' swords, but did presently die of the hurt they gave him.
Myself was at Court in the time of King Francis II. when the Comte de Saint-Aignan did wed at Fontainebleau with young Madame la Bourdaisière.[7] Next day, the bridegroom having come into the King's apartment, each and all of the courtiers present did begin to vent their japes on him. Amongst others a certain great Lord and very gallant soldier did ask him how many stages he had made. The husband replied five. As it fell out, there was also there present an honourable gentleman, a Secretary, which was then in the very highest favour with a very great Princess, whose name I will not give, who hereupon declared,—'twas nothing much, considering the fair road he had travelled and the fine weather he had, for it was summer-time. The great Lord then said to him, "Ho! My fine fellow, you 'ld be for having birds enough toyour bag, it seems!"—"And prithee, why not?" retorted the Secretary. "By God! Why! I have taken a round dozen in four and twenty hours on the most fairest meadow is in all this neighbourhood, or can be anywhere in all France." Who more astounded than the said Lord,
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