Database: Report on the Recruitment of Mlle. La Maupin

(This letter is written in a strong, flowing hand, in a calligraphic style popular near the end of the last century.)
The following are the words of Brother Assassin Louis-Joseph d'Albert de Luynes, Comte d'Albert, as set down by Master Assassin Maréchal, on account of the former being grievous wounded in his shoulder.
(With further commentary by M. Maréchal, like so.)
On instruction of my Mentor, I set forth for Villeperdue on my steed, Agent. A fine stallion from good Andalusian stock...
(Brother d'Albert here digresses at length upon the virtues of his steed. Deeming this irrelevant to the business of the Brotherhood, I have excised it.)
My business was the identification and recruitment of a potential initiate, a swordsman and singer of some repute, a fellow by the name of "La Maupin."
(I told him she was a woman. The broadsheets announcing her fencing demonstrations proclaimed her a woman. Her name takes the feminine case. Brother d'Albert clearly needs to meditate upon the improvement of his senses.)
Much to my surprise, when I arrived at the tavern where I was to find the gentleman, what I found was instead plainly a young woman, fair of countenance and of hair, singing bawdy chansonettes and demonstrating swordplay for an admiring crrowd. My brother Assassins and I approached her, whereupon I complimented her most highly upon her talents and inquired if we might speak. However, for reasons surpassing understanding, she became incensed at my words and threatened all three of us.
(From the testimony of Brother d'Albert's comrades, his exact words were: "I've listened to your chirping, o pretty bird, now tell me of your plugmage.")
My brothers rushed nobly to my defense, but showed some not-ungentlemenly hesitation in striking a woman. I likewise attempted to talk her down, but taking my hesitation to shed blood as a sign of weakness, the mademoiselle struck me through the right shoulder so that her blade protruded six inches from my back. Doubtless shocked by the sight of blood, she fled the scene, while my brothers helped me to the village barber.
(The accounts of Brother d'Albert's brothers tell a rather different story: that the young lady trounced all three of them, struck Brother d'Albert a crippling blow, and then withdrew to the bar to order a cup of burgundy.)
Based on this irrational and illogical reaction, I must conclude that Mlle. Maupin would be a poor choice for recruitment.
(And having tutored the mademoiselle personally in the arts of the stage, I must conclude that Brother d'Albert is a great ass and should no more be in charge of recruitments than an Orang Outan should be in charge of the crockery.)
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