t sobs prevent her speaking. "Pray do not cry, Madame my
Queen. You forget that I am the Dauphin, and Dauphins cannot die thus."
The Queen sobs more bitterly still, and the little Dauphin begins to be
frightened. "Hola!" he says, "I do not wish to have Death come and take
me; and I shall know how to prevent his coming here. Bring forth forty
lancers, our strongest, to mount guard around our bed; a hundred cannon
night and day; torches lighted beneath our windows. And unhappy Death if
he dares to approach us then!" The Queen gives a sign to please the
royal child. Forthwith, one can hear heavy cannon being rolled across
the courtyard; and forty soldiers, halberds in hand, come and range
themselves around the room: they are veterans, with gray moustaches. The
little Dauphin claps his hands feebly as he sees them, and recognizing
one he calls him by name, "Lorrain! Lorrain!" The old soldier takes a
step towards the bed. "I love you well, my good Lorrain. Let me see your
big sword. If Death comes to take me, we must kill him, must we not?"
Lorrain replies, "Yes, Monseigneur," as the big tears run down his
bronzed cheeks.

At this moment the chaplain approaches the little Dauphin, and talks to
him for some time in a low tone, showing him a crucifix. The little
Dauphin listens with an astonished air; then suddenly interrupting, "I
understand well what you say, Monsieur l'Abbe; but after all, could not
my little friend Beppo die in my place, if we should give him a great
deal of money?"

The chaplain continues talking to him in a low voice, and the little
Dauphin looks more and more astonished. When the chaplain has finished,
the little Dauphin resumes, with a heavy sigh, "All that you tell me is
very sad, Monsieur l'Abbe, but one thing consoles me: up there, in the
paradise of stars, I shall still be the Dauphin. I know that our good
God is my cousin, and would not fail to treat me according to my rank."
Then he adds, turning to his mother, "Have my finest garments
brought--my ermine cloak and velvet slippers. I wish to array myself for
the angels, and enter paradise dressed as a Dauphin."

A third time the chaplain bends over the little prince, and talks a long
time in whispering tones. The royal child interrupts him in anger, in
the midst of his discourse, and cries, "Then it is no use to be
Dauphin,--it is nothing at all;" and not wishing to hear more, he turns
toward the wall weeping.

Translation of Mary Corey.