"Whose, say you? Pardieu! the king's."
"The king's! Say me that once more, my child,—the Hôtel de Nesle is the king's!"
"His own; now it remains to ascertain if he will give you so magnificent a dwelling-place."
"Who, the king? How do men call the king, Ascanio!
"Why, François I. if I am not mistaken."
"Which means that the Hôtel de Nesle will be my property within the week."
"But it may be that the Provost of Paris will take offence."
"What care I for that?"
"But suppose he will not let go what he has in his hand?"
"Suppose he will not!—What do men call me, Ascanio?"