“Never tell Mazarin that I understand Spanish, or I am a lost man and you are also.”
“All right,” said Porthos.)
This rough appeal, marked by the eloquence which characterized Mazarin when he spoke in Italian or Spanish and which he lost entirely in speaking French, was uttered with such impenetrable expression that Gondy, clever physiognomist as he was, had no suspicion of its being more than a simple warning to be more subdued.
The queen, on her part, thus chided, softened immediately and sat down, and in an almost weeping voice, letting her arms fall by her side, said:
“Pardon me, sir, and attribute this violence to what I suffer. A woman, and consequently subject to the