“Very well, sire; unless I shall, in the meantime, have undertaken a longer and a less agreeable journey.”

“What journey do you allude to?”

“The one across the Styx, sire.”

“Bah!” said Louis XIV., laughing.

“No, seriously, sire,” replied Saint-Aignan, “I am invited; and in such a way, in truth, that I hardly know what to say, or how to act, in order to refuse the invitation.”

“I do not understand you.

I know that you are in a poetical vein; but try not to sink from Apollo to Phoebus.”

“Very well; if your majesty will deign to listen to me, I will not keep your mind on the rack a moment longer.”