L. They say you hâve written my hîstory

P. That is true, and I spoke as a faithful servant.

L. But they say that you hâve related many things I could very well hâve done without.

P. That may be ; but on the whole, I gave a favourable portrait of you. Would you hâve me be a perpétuai flatterer instead of an historian?

L. But one should leave the dead in peace and not tarnish their memory.

P. Yours was already very much blackened ; I tried to soften evil impressions; I shovved up ail your qualities; what more could I do?

L. Be silent, or défend me altogether. They say you hâve described ail my grimaces, ail my contortions, when I spoke to myself, ail my intrigues with low-class people. They say you hâve spoken of the crédit of my provost, my physician, my barber, and my tailor; you hâve displayed my old clothes. They say you did not forget my little dévotions, especially tovvards the end of my life, my eagerness in collecting relies and in making pilgrimages. You hâve mentioned my little leaden Madonna which I kissed whenever I was about to do an evil action, and a certain cross by which I never dared to swear without keeping my oath, for fear of dying in the course of the year. Ail that was very ridiculous.

P. Ail that was true, and I could not hide it from pos-

i42 LOUIS XI

terity. Do you think a king can remain disguised after his death, just as you disguised certain intrigues in your lifetime? I should hâve saved nothing by my silence, and I should hâve dishonoured myself.