"My dear," said she to Josiana, "we talk of hell like a couple of

fools. Ask Barkilphedro all about it. He ought to know such things."

As a devil?" said Josiana.

As a beast," replied Barkilphedro, with a bow.

Madam," said the queen to Josiana, "he is cleverer than we."

For a man like Barkilphedro to approach the queen was to obtain a hold

on her. He could say, "I hold her." Now, he wanted a means of taking

advantage of his power for his own benefit. He had his foothold in the

court. To be settled there was a fine thing. No chance could now escape

him. More than once he had made the queen smile maliciously. This was

having a licence to shoot. But was there any preserved game? Did this

licence to shoot permit him to break the wing or the leg of one like the

sister of her Majesty? The first point to make clear was, did the queen

love her sister? One false step would lose all. Barkilphedro watched.

Before he plays the player looks at the cards. What trumps has he?

Barkilphedro began by examining the age of the two women. Josiana,

twenty-three; Anne, forty-one. So far so good. He held trumps. The

moment that a woman ceases to count by springs, and begins to count by

winters, she becomes cross. A dull rancour possesses her against the

time of which she carries the proofs. Fresh-blown beauties, perfumes for

others, are to such a one but thorns. Of the roses she feels but the

379

The Man Who Laughs