There were the governor and his civic staff and his officers, three or four merchants, and two priests, Brother Jacques and Dollier de Casson, that brother to Rabelais, with his Jove-like smile and his Herculean proportions.

De Casson had arrived that day from Three Rivers, and he had come for aid.
Two chairs were vacant, and presently the vicomte filled one of them.
The other was reserved for the Chevalier.
Victor was telling some amusing tales of the court; how Beaufort was always blundering, how Mazarin was always saving, how Louis was always making love, and how the queen was always praying.
"Ah, Monsieur de Saumaise," said the governor, "you must not tell jests at the expense of their Majesties; Mazarin I do not mind, for he is certainly niggard with funds and with men." "How that handsome young king of ours will spend money when a new prime minister is needed!" was the vicomte's comment, his gaze falling on the Chevalier's empty chair.

"Do you remember how Mazarin took away Scarron's pension?
Scarron asked that it be renewed; and Mazarin refused, bidding the wit to be of good cheer.

Scarron replied, 'Monseigneur, I should indeed be in good cheer were I not positive that I shall not outlive your parsimony.'" When the Chevalier finally came in he was cordially greeted by the governor.

He took his chair, filled his glass and lit his pipe.