high-bred manners....

My situation then is this: I am indeed in Paris, happy because of
soundness of both mind and body, happier were you enjoying it
too, and happiest had it but been my lot to have you with me. I
am indeed in Paris, in that City of Kings, which not only holds,
by the sweet delight of her natural dowry, those who are with
her, but also alluringly invites those who are far away. For as
the moon by the majesty of its more brilliant mirror overwhelms
the rays of the stars, not otherwise does said city raise its
imperial head with its diadem of royal dignity above the rest of
the cities. It is situated in the lap of a delightful valley,
surrounded by a coronet of mountains which Ceres and Bacchus
adorn with fervent zeal. The Seine, no humble stream amid the
army of rivers, superb in its channel, throwing its two arms
about the head, the heart, the very marrow of the city, forms an
island. Two suburbs reach out to right and left, the less
excellent, even, of which begets envy in envious cities. From the
two suburbs two stone bridges stretch over to the island and one
of them which has been named for its size, for it is Great, faces
the north and the English Sea, while the opposite one, which
opens towards the Loire, they call the Little Bridge....

On this island Philosophy, of old, placed a royal throne for
herself, Philosophy, who, despised in her solitude, with a sole
attendant, Study, now possesses an enduring citadel of light and
immortality, and under her victorious feet tramples the withered
flowers of a world already in its dotage.

On this island, the seven sisters, to wit, the Liberal Arts, have