'Ah,
Matta, you know the kind of dress then in vogue. No, I would not change
my dress, but I consented to draw over it a cassock. I had the finest
head of hair in the world, well curled and powdered above my cassock,
and below were my white buskins and spurs.'
Even Richelieu, that hypocrite, he went on to relate, could not help
laughing at the parti-coloured costume, sacerdotal above, soldier-like
below; but the cardinal was greatly offended--not with the absence of
decorum, but with the dangerous wit, that could laugh in public at the
cowl and shaven crown, points which constituted the greatest portion of
Richelieu's sanctity.
De Grammont's brother, however, thus addressed the Chevalier:--'Well, my
little parson,' said he, as they went home, 'you have acted your part to
perfection; but now you must choose your career. If you like to stick to
the church, you will possess great revenues, and nothing to do; if you
choose to go into the army, you will risk your arm or your leg, but in
time you may be a major-general with a wooden leg and a glass eye, the
spectacle of an indifferent, ungrateful court. Make your choice.'
The choice, Philibert went on to relate, was made.
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