and yet so witty--Oh, holy Virgin! what have I said?"

Madame had laid down her tapestry, and was staring in intense
indignation at the poet, who writhed on his stool under the stern rebuke
of those cold gray eyes.

"I think, Monsieur Corneille, that you had better go on with your
reading," said the king dryly.

"Assuredly, sire. Shall I read my play about Darius?"

"And who was Darius?" asked the king, whose education had been so
neglected by the crafty policy of Cardinal Mazarin that he was ignorant
of everything save what had come under his own personal observation.

"Darius was King of Persia, sire."

"And where is Persia?"

"It is a kingdom of Asia."

"Is Darius still king there?"

"Nay, sire; he fought against Alexander the Great."

"Ah, I have heard of Alexander. He was a famous king and general, was
he not?"

"Like your Majesty, he both ruled wisely and led his armies
victoriously."

"And was King of Persia, you say?"

"No, sire; of Macedonia. It was Darius who was King of Persia."

The king frowned, for the slightest correction was offensive to him.

"You do not seem very clear about the matter, and I confess that it does
not interest me deeply," said he. "Pray turn to something else."

"There is my _Pretended Astrologer_."

"Yes, that will do."

Corneille commenced to read his comedy, while Madame de Maintenon's
white and delicate fingers picked among the many-coloured silks which
she was weaving into her tapestry. From time to time she glanced
across, first at the clock and then at the king, who was leaning back,
with his lace handkerchief thrown over his face. It was twenty minutes
to four now, but she knew that she had put it back half an hour, and
that the true time was ten minutes past.

"Tut! tut!" cried the king suddenly. "There is something amiss there.
The second last line has a limp in it, surely." It was one of his
foibles to pose as a critic, and the wise poet would fall in with his
corrections, however unreasonable they might be.

"Which line, sire? It is indeed an advantage to have one's faults made
clear."

"Read the passage again."

"Et si, quand je lui dis le secret de mon ame,
Avec moins de rigueur elle eut traite ma flamme,
Dans ma fayon de vivre, et suivant mon humeur,
Une autre eut bientot le present de mon coeur."

"Yes, the third line has a foot too many. Do you not remark it,
madame?"

"No; but I fear th