"On the contrary, it is the gown," said Loret.
"Take the gown away from the procureur-general," said Conrart, "and we have M. Fouquet left us still, of whom we have no reason to complain; but, as he is no procureur-general without his gown, we agree with M. de la Fontaine and p.r.o.nounce the gown to be nothing but a bugbear."
"_Fugiunt risus leporesque_," said Loret.
"The smiles and the graces," said some one present.
"That is not the way," said Pelisson, gravely, "that I translate _lepores_."
"How do you translate it?" said La Fontaine.
"Thus: The hares run away as soon as they see M. Fouquet." A burst of laughter, in which the superintendent joined, followed this sally.
"But why hares?" objected Conrart, vexed.
"Because the hare will be the very one who will not be over pleased to see M. Fouquet surrounded by all the attributes which his parliamentary strength and power confer on him."
"Oh! oh!" murmured the poets.
"_Quo non ascendam_," said Conrart, "seems impossible to me, when one is fortunate enough to wear the gown of the procureur-general." [9]
"On the contrary, it seems so to me without that gown," said the obstinate Pelisson; "what is your opinion, Gourville?"
"I think the gown in question is a very good thing," replied the latter; "but I equally think that a million and a half is far better than the gown."
"And I am of Gourville"s opinion," exclaimed Fouquet, stopping the discussion by the expression of his own opinion, which would necessarily bear down all the others.
"A million and a half," Pelisson grumbled out; "now I happen to know an Indian fable--"
"Tell it to me," said La Fontaine; "I ought to know it too."
"Tell it, tell it," said the others.
"There was a tortoise, which was, as usual, well protected by its sh.e.l.l," said Pelisson; "whenever its enemies threatened it, it took refuge within its covering. One day some one said to it, "You must feel very hot in such a house as that in the summer, and you are altogether prevented showing off your graces; there is a snake here, who will give you a million and a half for your sh.e.l.l.""
"Good!" said the superintendent, laughing.
"Well, what next?" said La Fontaine, more interested in the apologue than in the moral.
"The tortoise sold his sh.e.l.l and remained naked and defenseless. A vulture happened to see him, and being hungry, broke the tortoise"s back with a blow of his beak and devoured it. The moral is, that M. Fouquet should take very good care to keep his gown."
La Fontaine understood the moral seriously. "You forget Aeschylus," he said, to his adversary.
"What do you mean?"
"Aeschylus was bald-headed, and a vulture--your vulture, probably--who was a great amateur in tortoises, mistook at a distance his head for a block of stone, and let a tortoise, which was shrunk up in his sh.e.l.l, fall upon it."
"Yes, yes, La Fontaine is right," resumed Fouquet, who had become very thoughtful; "whenever a vulture wishes to devour a tortoise, he well knows how to break his sh.e.l.l; but happy is that tortoise a snake pays a million and a half for his envelope. If any one were to bring me a generous-hearted snake like the one in your fable, Pelisson, I would give him my sh.e.l.l."
"_Rara avis in terres!_" cried Conrart. [10]
"And like a black swan, is he not?" added La Fontaine; "well, then, the bird in question, black and rare, is already found."
"Do you mean to say that you have found a purchaser for my post of procureur-general?" exclaimed Fouquet.
"I have, monsieur."
"But the superintendent never said that he wished to sell," resumed Pelisson.
"I beg your pardon," said Conrart, "you yourself spoke about it, even--"
"Yes, I am a witness to that," said Gourville.
"He seems very tenacious about his brilliant idea," said Fouquet, laughing. "Well, La Fontaine, who is the purchaser?"
"A perfect blackbird, for he is a counselor belonging to the parliament, an excellent fellow."
"What is his name?"
"Vanel."
"Vanel!" exclaimed Fouquet. "Vanel the husband of--"
"Precisely, her husband; yes, monsieur."
"Poor fellow!" said Fouquet, with an expression of great interest.
"He wishes to be everything that you have been, monsieur," said Gourville, "and to do everything that you have done."
"It is very agreeable; tell us all about it, La Fontaine."
"It is very simple. I see him occasionally, and a short time ago I met him, walking about on the Place de la Bastile, at the very moment when I was about to take the small carriage to come down here to Saint-Mande."
"He must have been watching his wife," interrupted Loret.
"Oh, no!" said La Fontaine, "he is far from being jealous. He accosted me, embraced me, and took me to the inn called L"Image Saint-Fiacre, and told me all about his troubles."
"He has his troubles, then?"
"Yes; his wife wants to make him ambitious."
"Well, and he told you--"
"That some one had spoken to him about a post in parliament; that M.
Fouquet"s name had been mentioned; that ever since, Madame Vanel dreams of nothing else than being called madame la procureur-generale, and that it makes her ill and kills her every night she does not dream about it."
"The deuce!"
"Poor woman!" said Fouquet.