“Ah! sire!” replied the maid, “I shall be married to-morrow, but if you will lend me the dagger that is in your belt, I will defend my honour, and you shall take it, that the gospel made be observed wherein it says, ’Render unto Caesar the things which be Caesar’s’ . . .”

Immediately the king gave her the little dagger, and her brave reply rendered him so amorous that he lost his appetite.  He had an apartment prepared, intending to lodge his new lady-love in the Rue a l’Hirundelle, in one of his palaces.

And now behold my advocate, in a great hurry to get married, to the disgust of his rivals, the leading his bride to the altar to the clang of bells and the sound of music, so timed as to provoke the qualms of diarrhoea.  In the evening, after the ball, comes he into the nuptial chamber, where should be reposing his lovely bride.  No longer is she a lovely bride—­but a fury—­a wild she-devil, who, seated in an armchair, refuses her share of her lord’s couch, and sits defiantly before the fire warming at the same time her ire and her calves.  The good husband, quite astonished, kneels down gently before her, inviting her to the first passage of arms in that charming battle which heralds a first night of love; but she utters not a word, and when he tries to raise her garment, only just to glance at the charms that have cost him so dear, she gives him a slap that makes his bones rattle, and refuses to utter a syllable.

This amusement, however, by no means displeased our friend the advocate, who saw at the end of his troubles that which you can as well imagine as he did; so played he his share of the game manfully, taking cheerfully the punishment bestowed upon him.  By so much hustling about, scuffling, and struggling he managed at last to tear away a sleeve, to slit a petticoat, until he was able to place his hand upon his own property.  This bold endeavour brought Madame to her feet and drawing the king’s dagger, “What would you with me?” she cried.

“Everything,” answered he.

“Ha!  I should be a great fool to give myself against my inclination!  If you fancied you would find my virtue unarmed you made a great error.  Behold the poniard of the king, with which I will kill you if you make the semblance of a step towards me.”

So saying, she took a cinder, and having still her eyes upon her lord she drew a circle on the floor, adding, “These are the confines of the king’s domain.  Beware how you pass them.”

The advocate, with whose ideas of love-making the dagger sadly interfered, stood quite discomfited, but at the same time he heard the cruel speech of his tormentor he caught sight through the slits and tears in her robe of a sweet sample of a plump white thigh, and such voluptuous specimens of hidden mysteries, et cetera, that death seemed sweet to him if he could only taste of them a little.  So that he rushed within the domain of the king, saying, “I