Chretien du Penmarch
to
Guillaume Grosscanard
Cher Monsier Grosscanard,
I see that you and I are bound to cross sabres later this month, but I
must tell you in all honesty that I would just as soon cross cocktail
toothpicks with you over a couple of pints; what's more, I am a dismal
fighter. The truth is Sarah never much liked me anyway, and now that she's
gone I can admit I always found her pretty but rather stiff (not in a moral
sense, of course). I am rather heartened to think that she participated
with such enthusiasm in your little games (yes, the news has reached me),
as I could never quite coax her back to those kittenish ways that beguiled
me when we first met. In short, as she has made it clear that she detests
my fiddle playing and that she is susceptible to your obvious amatory
superiority, she and I are not destined.
Nevertheless, I suppose we should go through with the fight - for her
sake, at least - shouldn't we? Perhaps you would be good enough to attend
my party in the third week of this month, and we can make a good show of
shoving and shouting and then spill out into the garden for a spirited duel
that will set Paris talking loudly enough to reach Sarah's ears and give
her the (second) thrill of her life. How about it?
With all best wishes for remaining alive until we meet,
Chretien du Penmarch
