the courtiers and guard of honor below. King Louis
had absolutely, and with his own hand, flung his own cane out of
the window, "because," said he, "I won't demean myself by striking a
gentleman!" O miracle of magnanimity! Lauzun was not caned, because he
besought majesty to keep his promise,--only imprisoned for ten years in
Pignerol, along with banished Fouquet;--and a pretty story is Fouquet's
too.

Out of the window the king's august head was one day thrust, when old
Conde was painfully toiling up the steps of the court below. "Don't
hurry yourself, my cousin," cries magnanimity, "one who has to carry
so many laurels cannot walk fast." At which all the courtiers, lackeys,
mistresses, chamberlains, Jesuits, and scullions, clasp their hands and
burst into tears. Men are affected by the tale to this very day. For
a century and three-quarters, have not all the books that speak of
Versailles, or Louis Quatorze, told the story?--"Don't hurry
yourself, my cousin!" O admirable king and Christian! what a pitch of
condescension is here, that the greatest king of all the world should go
for to say anything so kind, and really tell a tottering old gentleman,
worn out with gout, age, and wounds, not to walk too fast!

What a proper fund of slavishness is there in the composition of
mankind, that histories like these should be found to interest and awe
them. Till the world's end, most likely, this story will have its place
in the history-books; and unborn generations will read it, and tenderly
be moved by it. I am sure that Magnanimity went to bed that night,
pleased and happy, intimately convinced that he had done an action of
sublime virtue, and had easy slumbers and sweet dreams,--especially if
he had taken a light supper, and not too vehemently attacked his en cas
de nuit.

That famous adventure, in which the en cas de nuit was brought into
use, for the sake of one Poquelin alias Moliere;--how often has it been
described and admired? This Poquelin, though king's valet-de-chambre,
was by profession a vagrant; and as such, looked coldly on by the great
lords of the palace, who refused to eat with him. Majesty hearing
of this, ordered his en cas de nuit to be placed on the table, and
positively cut off a wing with his own knife and fork for Poquelin's
use. O thrice happy Jean Baptiste! The king has actually sat down with
him cheek by jowl, had the liver-wing of a fowl, and given Moliere
the gizzard; put his imperial legs und