Since there was no egress from the royal chamber, and the bars crossing hardly left room to put one’s head through, the good prince closed the door of the room, certain of keeping the lady a safe prisoner there, and again impressed upon her the necessity of silence.  Then came the merry blades in great haste, and found a good and substantial supper smiling at them from the silver plates upon the table, and the table well arranged and well lighted, loaded with fine silver cups, and cups full of royal wine.  Then said their master to them—­

“Come!  Come! to your places my good friends.  I was becoming very weary.  Thinking of you, I wished to arrange with you a merry feast after the ancient method, when the Greeks and Romans said their Pater noster to Master Priapus, and the learned god called in all countries Bacchus.  The feast will be proper and a right hearty one, since at our libation there will be present some pretty crows with three beaks, of which I know from great experience the best one to kiss.”

Then all of them recognising their master in all things, took pleasure in this discourse, except Raoul d’Hocquetonville, who advanced and said to the prince—­

“My lord, I will aid you willingly in any battle but that of the petticoats, in that of spear and axe, but not of the wine flasks.  My good companions here present have not wives at home, it is otherwise with me.  I have a sweet wife, to whom I owe my company, and an account of all my deeds and actions.”

“Then, since I am a married man I am to blame?” said the duke.

“Ah! my dear master, you are a prince, and can do as you please.”

These brave speeches made, as you can imagine, the heart of the lady prisoner hot and cold.

“Ah! my Raoul,” thought she, “thou art a noble man!”

“You are,” said the duke, “a man whom I love, and consider more faithful and praiseworthy than any of my people.  The others,” said he, looking at the three lords, “are wicked men.  But, Raoul,” he continued, “sit thee down.  When the linnets come—­they are linnets of high degree—­you can make your way home.  S’death!  I had treated thee as a virtuous man, ignorant of the extra-conjugal joys of love, and had carefully put for thee in that room the queen of raptures—­a fair demon, in whom is concentrated all feminine inventions.  I wished that once in thy life thou, who has never tasted the essence of love, and dreamed but of war, should know the secret marvels of the gallant amusement, since it is shameful that one of my followers should serve a fair lady badly.”

Thereupon the Sire d’Hocquetonville sat down to a table in order to please his prince as far as he could lawfully do so.  Then they all commenced to laugh, joke, and talk about the ladies; and according to their custom, they related to each other their good fortunes and their love adventures, sparing no woman except the queen of the house, and betraying the little habits of each one, to which followed horrible little confidences, which increased in treachery and lechery as the contents of the goblets grew less.  The duke, gay as a universal legatee, drew the guests out, telling lies himself to learn the truth from them; and his companions ate at a trot, drank at a full gallop, and their tongues rattled away faster than either.