"Seigneurs, do not come too near the teeth of the bear, he is often sullen and ferocious."
"Mountebank, keep close watch on your beast; should he unfortunately hurt anybody in this hall, I shall have him cut to pieces, and you will receive for your share fifty lashes on your back!"
"Seigneur count, have pity on me, poor old man that I am; I only have my animals to earn my bread with--I have requested your noble and very noble guests not to approach my bear too closely, in order to prevent any unfortunate accident."
"Step forward; I wish to have a closer view of your jolly companion; he will not, I presume, dare to paw me, the son of King Clotaire."
"Oh, very glorious Prince! these poor brutes are deprived of intelligence and cannot distinguish between the great seigneurs of the world and the humble slaves."
"Step forward, step forward--a little closer."
"Very glorious King, look out--it will be less dangerous to be close to the monkey--I can let him out of his cage."
"Oh, monkeys, I am not very curious to see those wicked animals. I have pages, plenty of them. Ha, ha, ha--look at the droll fellow with his jacket. Look, Imnachair, how clumsily he carries himself--how he grunts--for all the world he looks like the Lion of Poitiers in his morning gown, after spending a night with women and wine."
"What else should I do, Chram! I consider lost every night that I do not put to use in your style with wine and women."
"Lion, you are unjust--I have become temperate and chaste."
"Through exhaustion--O, chaste and sober Prince--did you renounce the pure girls and good wine!"
"If so, you should rather pity than blame me. Ho, there, mountebank, what tricks can your bear perform? Is he clever?"
"If you order it, glorious King, my bear will ride on horseback on my cane, and myself holding him by the chain, he will gracefully gallop around the hall."
"Mont-Dore, glorious King. I give him that name because I caught him when he was still but a cub on one of the peaks of Mont Dore."
"I am no longer surprised if your bear is ferocious. He was born in one of the most notorious lairs of the accursed Vagres, those wandering men, those wolves, those heads of wolves who haunt only rocks, forests and caverns. But as sure as this morning we put one of them to the torture, we shall end by wiping them all out, just as Count Neroweg did the other day with a band of them who took refuge in the defile of Allange."