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Updated: June 3, 2025
Skillful in all mimicry, Chicot now pretended to be a great lord, as he had before imitated a good bourgeois, and thus never prince was served with more zeal than M. Chicot, when he had sold Ernanton's horse and had talked for a quarter of an hour with the postmaster.
"Why so?" "Because he has caught the likeness; it is striking." M. de Monsoreau grew pale, and turning to Chicot, said: "M. Chicot, I am not used to jesters, having lived little at court, and I warn you that before my king I do not like to be humiliated, above all when I speak of my duties." "Well, monsieur," said Chicot, "we are not like you, we court people laughed heartily at the last joke."
And Chicot, falling at once into his old habits, sat down in a chair, took a plate and a fork, and began on the oysters, picking out the finest, without saying a word. "You here! you returned!" cried Henri. "Hush!" said Chicot, with his mouth full; and he drew the soup toward him. "Stop, Chicot! that is my dish." Chicot divided it equally, and gave the king back half.
The woodcutter who passed along, with his arm leaning on the yoke of his favorite ox, the girl with short petticoats and quiet steps, carrying water on her head, the old man humming a song of his youthful days, the tame bird who warbled in his cage, or pecked at his plentiful supply of food, the brown, thin, but healthy children playing about the roads, all said in a language clear and intelligible to Chicot, "See, we are happy here."
"Forward, and let all who love me follow." Chicot approached Mornay. "Well! M. le Comte," said he, "do you all want to be cut to pieces?" "Oh! we take our chance." "But the king will get killed." "Bah! he has a good cuirass." "But he will not be foolish enough to fight himself, I suppose?" Mornay shrugged his shoulders and turned on his heel.
"Pagan, would you go to hear mass on the Fete Dieu with a full stomach?" "Even so." "Call, Chicot." "Patience; it is scarcely eight o'clock, and you will have plenty of time to scourge yourself. Let us talk first. Converse with your friend; you will not repent it, Valois, on the faith of a Chicot." "Well, talk; but be quick." "How shall we divide our day, my son?" "Into three parts."
Chicot enjoyed at his court a liberty similar to that enjoyed thirty years before by Triboulet at the court of Francois I., and forty years after by Longely at the court of Louis XIII. Chicot was not an ordinary jester. Before being Chicot he had been "De Chicot."
The king did not seem to hear. He unclasped his cloak, took off his cap, and, advancing to the passage which led to St. Luc's room, said to Chicot, "Wait here for me till I return." "Oh! do not be in a hurry," said Chicot. No sooner was the king gone, than Chicot opened the door and called "Hola!" A valet came.
"You see all is safe; reply," said Chicot. Gorenflot replied, to the great joy of the innkeeper. "But," said Gorenflot, who did not like the conversation, "you promised me some sherry." "Sherry, Malaga, Alicant every wine in my cellar is at your disposal." Gorenflot looked at Chicot in amazement.
"Take that purse lying on the table, near my sword do you see?" They went down, but Henri seemed thoughtful and preoccupied. Chicot looked at him, and thought, "What the devil made me talk politics to this brave prince, and make him sad? Fool that I was!" Once in the court, Henri approached the group of mendicants. There were a dozen men in different costumes.
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