'Come,' said Landsmath, 'your wound is nothing; you had plenty of waistcoats and flannels on.' Then uncovering his breast, 'Look here,' said he, showing four or five great scars, 'these are something like wounds; I received them thirty years ago; now cough as loud as you can.' The King did so.
''Tis nothing at all,' said Landsmath; 'you must laugh at it; we shall hunt a stag together in four days.'-- 'But suppose the blade was poisoned,' said the King.

'Old grandams' tales,' replied Landsmath; 'if it had been so, the waistcoats and flannels would have rubbed the poison off.' The King was pacified, and passed a very good night.
"His Majesty one day asked M.de Landsmath how old he was.

He was aged, and by no means fond of thinking of his age; he evaded the question.

A fortnight later, Louis XV.

took a paper out of his pocket and read aloud: 'On such a day in the month of one thousand six hundred and eighty, was baptised by me, rector of ------, the son of the high and mighty lord,' etc.