“The queen!” cried he, trying to rise.
“Yes, sir, the queen,” she replied, “who knows how you strive to lose both reason and life; the queen, whom you offend both dreaming and waking; the queen, who cares for your honor and your safety, and therefore comes to you. Is it possible,” continued she, “that a gentleman, formerly renowned like you for his loyalty and honor, should become such an enemy as you have been to the reputation of a woman? What will my enemies do, if you set them the example of treason?”
“Treason!” stammered Charny.
“Yes, sir. Either you are a madman, and must be forcibly prevented from doing harm; or you are a traitor, and must be punished.”
“Oh, madame, do not call me a traitor! From the mouth of a king, such an accusation would precede death; from the mouth of a woman, it is dishonor. Queen, kill me, or spare me!”
“Are you in your right mind, M. de Charny?” said the queen, in a moved voice.
“Yes, madame.”
“Do you remember your wrongs towards me, and towards the king?”
“Mon Dieu!” he murmured.
“For you too easily forget, you gentlemen, that the king is the husband of the woman whom you insult, by raising your eyes to her—that he is the father of your future master, the dauphin; you forget, also, that he is a greater and better man than any of you—a man whom I esteem and love.”