Our time is coming, and yours is going.

What hampers our lord the king and shuts him up in Blois, while rebellions stalk through France?
Lack of men?
No; but lack of money.

Who can get the money for him--you the soldier, or I the clerk?
A thousand times, I! Therefore, my time is coming, and before you die you will see a priest rule France.' 'God forbid it should be you,' I answered scornfully.
'As you please,' he answered, shrugging his shoulders, and assuming in a breath a mask of humility which sat as ill on his monstrous conceit as ever nun's veil on a trooper.

'Yet it may even be I; by the favour of the Holy Catholic Church, whose humble minister I am.' I sprang up with a great oath at that, having no stomach for more of the strange transformations, in which this man delighted, and whereof the last had ever the air of being the most hateful.

'You villain!' I cried, twisting my moustaches, a habit I have when enraged.