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To poison the sting, from time to time, is the acme of art. Nero loves
to see Locusta at work.
Royal palaces are very easily entered; these madrepores have a way in
soon guessed at, contrived, examined, and scooped out at need by the
gnawing thing which is called the courtier. A pretext to enter is
sufficient. Barkilphedro, having found this pretext, his position with
the queen soon became the same as that with the Duchess Josiana--that of
an indispensable domestic animal. A witticism risked one day by him
immediately led to his perfect understanding of the queen and how to
estimate exactly her kindness of heart. The queen was greatly attached
to her Lord Steward, William Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire, who was a
great fool. This lord, who had obtained every Oxford degree and did not
know how to spell, one fine morning committed the folly of dying. To die
is a very imprudent thing at court, for there is then no further
restraint in speaking of you. The queen, in the presence of
Barkilphedro, lamented the event, finally exclaiming, with a sigh,--
"
It is a pity that so many virtues should have been borne and served by
so poor an intellect."
"
Dieu veuille avoir son âne!" whispered Barkilphedro, in a low voice,
and in French.
The queen smiled. Barkilphedro noted the smile. His conclusion was that
biting pleased. Free licence had been given to his spite. From that day
he thrust his curiosity everywhere, and his malignity with it. He was
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