and singing, and never made anyone miserable, which is the characteristic of women of this open and free nature, who have always an occupation—­an equivocal one if you like.  The king often went with the hail-fellows his friends to the lady’s house, and in order not to be seen always went at night-time, and without his suite.  But being always distrustful, and fearing some snare, he gave to Nicole all the most savage dogs he had in his kennels, beggars that would eat a man without saying “By your leave,” the which royal dogs knew only Nicole and the king.  When the Sire came Nicole let them loose in the garden, and the door of the house being sufficiently barred and closely shut, the king put the keys in his pocket, and in perfect security gave himself up, with his satellites, to every kind of pleasure, fearing no betrayal, jumping about at will, playing tricks, and getting up good games.  Upon these occasions friend Tristan watched the neighbourhood, and anyone who had taken a walk on the Mall of Chardonneret would be rather quickly placed in a position in which it would have been easy to give the passers-by a benediction with his feet, unless he had the king’s pass, since often would Louis send out in search of lasses for his friends, or people to entertain him with the amusements suggested by Nicole or the guests.  People of Tours were there for these little amusements, to whom he gently recommended silence, so that no one knew of these pastimes until after his death.  The farce of “Baisez mon cul” was, it is said, invented by the said Sire.  I will relate it, although it is not the subject of this tale, because it shows the natural comicality and humour of this merry monarch.  They were at Tours three well known misers:  the first was Master Cornelius, who is sufficiently well known; the second was called Peccard, and sold the gilt-work, coloured papers, and jewels used in churches; the third was hight Marchandeau, and was a very wealthy vine-grower.  These two men of Touraine were the founders of good families, notwithstanding their sordidness.  One evening that the king was with Beaupertuys, in a good humour, having drunk heartily, joked heartily, and offered early in the evening his prayer in Madame’s oratory, he said to Le Daim his crony, to the Cardinal, La Balue, and to old Dunois, who were still soaking, “Let us have a good laugh!  I think it will be a good joke to see misers before a bag of gold without being able to touch it.  Hi, there!”

Hearing which, appeared one of his varlets.

“Go,” said he, “seek my treasurer, and let him bring hither six thousand gold crowns—­and at once!  And you will go and seize the bodies of my friend Cornelius, of the jeweller of the Rue de Cygnes, and of old Marchandeau, and bring them here, by order of the king.”