Satan swore he had no appetite for aught but a certain earthly dish, which women excel in making when they meet in company, to wit, tongue-pie.
The doctors agreed there was nothing could better suit His Majesty's stomach.
In an hour's time the dish was set before the King; but he found it insipid and tasteless.
He sent for his Head Cook and asked him where the pie came from.
"From Paris, sire. It is quite fresh; 'twas baked this very morning, in the Marais Quarter, by a dozen gossips gathered round the bed at a woman's lying-in."
"She knocked first at the Picard lady's door. A maid opened, but her mistress refused to have one word to say to her visitor. She was an honest woman.
"The procuress went next to see the lady of Poitiers and solicit her favours for the gallant knight. This dame answered her:
"'Prithee, go tell him who sent you that he is come to the wrong house, and that I am not the woman he takes me for.'
"She too is an honest woman; yet less honest than the first, in that she tried to appear more so.