'Levius quid femina,' said they, which is but la Jeanneton's
tune in Latin, 'Le peu que sont les femmes.' Also do but see how the
greybeards of our own day speak of them, being no longer blinded by
desire: this alderman, to wit."
"Oh, novice of novices," cried Denys, "not to have seen why that old
fool rails so on the poor things! One day, out of the millions of women
he blackens, one did prefer some other man to him: for which solitary
piece of bad taste, and ten to one 'twas good taste, he doth bespatter
creation's fairer half, thereby proving what? le peu que sont les
hommes."
"I see women have a shrewd champion in thee," said Gerard, with a smile.
But the next moment inquired gravely why he had not told him all this
before.
Denys grinned. "Had the girl said 'Ay,' why then I had told thee
straight. But 'tis a rule with us soldiers never to publish our defeats:
'tis much if after each check we claim not a victory."
"Now that is true," said Gerard. "Young as I am, I have seen this; that
after every great battle the generals on both sides go to the nearest
church, and sing each a Te Deum for the victory; methinks a Te Martem,
or Te Bellonam, or Te Mercurium, Mercury being the god of lies, were
more fitting."
"Pas si bete," said Denys approvingly. "Hast a good eye: canst see a
steeple by daylight. So now tell me how thou hast fared in this town all
day.
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