He replied, with great coolness,
that he was going to seek a lodging somewhere. "A
lodging!" said the count. "What then has happened at
home?" "Nothing, my lord. Only your dog, whom you love
so much, is dead." "How so?" "Your fine palfrey, while
being exercised in the court, became frightened, and in
running fell into the well." "Ah, who startled the
horse?" "It was your son, Damaiseau, who fell at its
feet from the window." "My son!--O Heaven! Where, then,
were his servant and his mother? Is he injured?" "Yes,
sire, he has been killed by falling. And when they went
to tell it to madame, she was so affected that she fell
dead also without speaking." "Rascal! in place of flying
away, why hast thou not gone to seek assistance, or why
didst thou not remain at the chateau?" "There is no more
need, sire; for Marotte, in watching madame, fell
asleep. A light caused the fire, and there remains
nothing now."--Truly a delicate way of "breaking ill
news"!
The Samradian sect of fire-worshippers, who believe only in the "ideal,"
anticipated Bishop Berkeley's theory, thus referred to by Lord Byron
(_Don Juan_, xi, 1):
When Bishop Berkeley said, "there was no matter,"
And proved it--'twas no matter what he said;
They say, his system 'tis in vain to batter,
Too subtle for the airiest human head.
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