would rather allow the most urgent affair to stand still, than wreak on an innocent person the ill humour once excited in him, and give a decision derogatory to his dignity.
The address of the interpreter to the count, the train of the whole conversation, were often enough repeated to us by the fat interpreter, who prided himself not a little on the fortunate result, so that I can still describe it from recollection.
The interpreter had ventured to open the cabinet and enter, an act which was severely prohibited. "What do you want?" shouted the count angrily. "Out with you!—no one but St. Jean has a right to enter here."
"Well, suppose I am St, Jean for a moment," answered the interpreter.
"It would need a powerful imagination for that! Two of him would not make one such as you. Retire!"
"Count, you have received a great gift from heaven; and to that I appeal."
"You think to flatter me! Do not fancy you will succeed."
"You have the great gift, count, of listening to the opinions of others, even in moments of passion—in moments of rage."
"Well, well! the question now is just about opinions, to which I have listened too long. I know but too well that we are not liked here, and that these citizens look askance at us."
"Not all!"
"Very many. What! These towns will be imperial towns, will they? They saw their emperor elected and crowned: and when, being unjustly attacked, he is in danger of losing his dominions and surrendering to an usurper; when he fortunately finds faithful allies who pour out their blood and treasure in his behalf,—they will not put up with the slight
