"You are heartily welcome, Seignior Herode! What happy chance brings
you this way?" said the landlord, smilingly. "It is a long time since we
have had the pleasure of seeing you at the Armes de France."
"So it is, Maitre Bilot," the tyrant answered; "but we cannot be giving
our poor little performances always in the same place, you see; the
spectators would become so familiar with all our tricks that they could
do them themselves, so we are forced to absent ourselves for a while.
And how are things going on here, now? Have you many of the nobility and
gentry in town at present?"
"A great many, Seignior Herode, for the hunting is over, so they
have come in from the chateaux. But they don't know what to do with
themselves, for it is so dull and quiet here. People can't be eating
and drinking all the time, and they are dying for want of a little
amusement. You will have full houses."
"Well," rejoined the tyrant, "then please give us seven or eight good
rooms, have three or four fat capons put down to roast, bring up, from
that famous cellar of yours, a dozen of the capital wine I used to drink
here--you know which I mean--and spread abroad the news of the arrival
of Herode's celebrated troupe at the Armes de France, with a new and
extensive repertoire, to give a few representations in Poitiers.
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