Burlesques William Makepeace Thackeray

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That the Baron Raoul levied toll upon the river and mail upon the shore; that he now and
then ransomed a burgher, plundered a neighbor, or drew the fangs of a Jew; that he burned
an enemy's castle with the wife and children within;—these were points for which the
country knew and respected the stout Baron. When he returned from victory, he was sure to
endow the Church with a part of his spoil, so that when he went forth to battle he was
always accompanied by her blessing. Thus lived the Baron Raoul, the pride of the country
in which he dwelt, an ornament to the Court, the Church, and his neighbors.
But in the midst of all his power and splendor there was a domestic grief which deeply
afflicted the princely Barbazure. His lovely ladies died one after the other. No sooner was
he married than he was a widower; in the course of eighteen years no less than nine
bereavements had befallen the chieftain. So true it is, that if fortune is a parasite, grief is a
republican, and visits the hall of the great and wealthy as it does the humbler tenements of
the poor.
"Leave off deploring thy faithless, gad-about lover," said the Lady of Chacabacque to her
daughter, the lovely Fatima, "and think how the noble Barbazure loves thee! Of all the
damsels at the ball last night, he had eyes for thee and thy cousin only."
"I am sure my cousin hath no good looks to be proud of!" the admirable Fatima exclaimed,
bridling up. "Not that I care for my Lord of Barbazure's looks. MY heart, dearest mother, is
with him who is far away!"
"He danced with thee four galliards, nine quadrilles, and twenty-three corantoes, I think,
child," the mother said, eluding her daughter's remark.
"Twenty-five," said lovely Fatima, casting her beautiful eyes to the ground. "Heigh-ho! but
Romane danced them very well!"
"He had not the court air," the mother suggested.
"I don't wish to deny the beauty of the Lord of Burbazure's dancing, mamma," Fatima
replied. "For a short, lusty man, 'tis wondrous how active he is; and in dignity the King's
Grace himself could not surpass him."
"You were the noblest couple in the room, love," the lady cried.
"That pea-green doublet, slashed with orange-tawny, those ostrich plumes, blue, red, and
yellow, those party-colored hose and pink shoon, became the noble baron wondrous well,"
Fatima acknowledged. "It must be confessed that, though middle-aged, he hath all the
agility of youth. But alas, madam! The noble baron hath had nine wives already."