"How disappointing!" said the Count with a laugh. "You are so eager to give me a reputation of eccentricity; I am, according to you, a Gimly, a Jared, a Michel-Matrineau-Jackson, the Wizard of Ozes; now, the moment for seeing me as eccentric having passed, you spoil your stereotype, you try to make me banal. You wish me common, vulgar, you request explanations, finally. You might as well dash yourself to pieces on the rock of Galadriella, or drown yourself in the teacup of Ulmon. You jest, monsieur!"
"However," resumed Pierre-Jacques-Philippe-Michel Boyen-Xènes-Baguines with hauteur, "there are occasions where probity commands..."
"Monsieur Pierre-Jacques-Philippe-Michel Boyen-Xènes-Baguines," interrupted the strange man, "what commands the Count of Monte Fato is none other than the Count of Monte Fato. I alone am Master of the Fates of Arde."
"It only remains then to fix the arrangements for the combat.”
"That is perfectly indifferent to me, monsieur," said the Count of Monte Fato. "It was useless to derange me at the spectacle for so small a thing. Tell your client that, although I am the insulted party, I leave him the choice of weapons, and will accept everything without debate, in order to remain eccentric to the end. Everything, even the hay-wrestling of the Shiré, which is always stupid. But I, it is another matter. I am sure to win."
