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Updated: June 7, 2025
Ah! monsieur the bailiff was king of all that." This time he did not correct himself. He continued dreamily, and as though speaking to himself, "Very fine, monsieur the bailiff! You had there between your teeth a pretty slice of our Paris." All at once he broke out explosively, "Pasque-Dieu!
Come! no one answers me. What unpleasant moods you two are in! I must do all the talking alone. That is what we call a monologue in tragedy. Pasque-Dieu! I must inform you that I have just seen the king, Louis XI., and that I have caught this oath from him, Pasque-Dieu! They are still making a hearty howl in the city. 'Tis a villanous, malicious old king. He is all swathed in furs.
"'Tis a great deal of iron," said the king, "to contain the light of a spirit." "The whole amounts to three hundred and seventeen livres, five sols, seven deniers." "Pasque-Dieu!" exclaimed the king.
For a long time, Gossip Tourangeau, intelligent as was his glance, had appeared not to understand Dom Claude. He interrupted. "Pasque-dieu! what are your books, then?" "Here is one of them," said the archdeacon.
"What's that?" interrupted the king; "feed what ought to be hanged! Pasque-Dieu! I will give not a sou more for that nourishment. Olivier, come to an understanding about the matter with Monsieur d'Estouteville, and prepare me this very evening the wedding of the gallant and the gallows. Resume." Olivier made a mark with his thumb against the article of the "rascally foot soldier," and passed on.
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