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Updated: June 16, 2025
"By the way, sire," said Gossip Coictier, "I had forgotten that in the first agitation, the watch have seized two laggards of the band. If your majesty desires to see these men, they are here." "If I desire to see them!" cried the king. "What! Pasque-Dieu! You forget a thing like that! Run quick, you, Olivier! Go, seek them!"
"And in short," interrupted Tourangeau, "what do you hold to be true and certain?" "Alchemy." Coictier exclaimed, "Pardieu, Dom Claude, alchemy has its use, no doubt, but why blaspheme medicine and astrology?" "Naught is your science of man, naught is your science of the stars," said the archdeacon, commandingly. "That's driving Epidaurus and Chaldea very fast," replied the physician with a grin.
"He! sire!" suddenly exclaimed Jacques Coictier, "what has become of the acute attack of illness for which your majesty had me summoned?" "Oh!" said the king, "I really suffer greatly, my gossip. There is a hissing in my ear and fiery rakes rack my chest." Coictier took the king's hand, and begun to feel of his pulse with a knowing air. "Look, Coppenole," said Rym, in a low voice.
The archdeacon hesitated for a moment, then he allowed a gloomy smile to escape, which seemed to give the lie to his response: "Credo in Deum." "Dominum nostrum," added Gossip Tourangeau, making the sign of the cross. "Amen," said Coictier. "Reverend master," resumed Tourangeau, "I am charmed in soul to see you in such a religious frame of mind.
Here Jacques Coictier, who had been unhorsed by the archdeacon's impetuous replies, regained his saddle, and interrupted him with the triumphant tone of one learned man correcting another, "Erras amice Claudi. The symbol is not the number. You take Orpheus for Hermes." "'Tis you who are in error," replied the archdeacon, gravely.
He was breathing heavily, and from old experience Commines knew that he controlled his fury of anger only by an effort and because Coictier, his physician, had warned him that any outbreak of violent emotion might be fatal. "Oh, the fool! the the the I must be calm.
What call is there for you to talk so low? Our Lady knoweth that we conceal nothing from our good friends the Flemings." "But sire..." "Speak loud!" Gossip Coictier was struck dumb with surprise. "So," resumed the king, "speak sir, there is a commotion among the louts in our good city of Paris?" "Yes, sire." "And which is moving you say, against monsieur the bailiff of the Palais-de-Justice?"
The human body, shadows! the planets, shadows!" And he fell back in his armchair in a commanding and inspired attitude. Gossip Touraugeau watched him in silence. Coictier tried to grin, shrugged his shoulders imperceptibly, and repeated in a low voice, "A madman!" "And," said Tourangeau suddenly, "the wondrous result, have you attained it, have you made gold?"
The king, who had risen, grasped him roughly by the arm, and said in his ear, in such a manner as to be heard by him alone, with concentrated rage and a sidelong glance at the Flemings, "Hold your tongue! or speak low!" Hardly had this personage given the king some explanations, when Louis XI. exclaimed, bursting into a laugh, "In truth? Speak aloud, Gossip Coictier!
"Upon my soul," said Claude at length, pressing his hand, "I am glad to see you and in such good health." "Thanks, Master Claude." "By the way," exclaimed Dom Claude, "how is your royal patient?" "He payeth not sufficiently his physician," replied the doctor, casting a side glance at his companion. "Think you so, Gossip Coictier," said the latter.
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