"I have no complaints, sire, to prefer against any one—no one but myself to accuse. Farewell, sire; you are compromising yourself in speaking to me in such a manner."
"Oh! be careful, Louise, in what you say; for you are reducing me to the very depths of despair."
"Oh! sire, sire, leave me to the protection of Heaven, I implore you."
"No, no; Heaven itself shall not tear you from me."
"Save me, then," cried the poor girl, "from those determined and pitiless enemies who are thirsting to destroy my very life and honor too. If you have courage enough to love me, show at least that you have power enough to defend me. But no: she whom you say you love, others insult and mock, and drive shamelessly away." And the gentle-hearted girl, forced by her own bitter distress to accuse others, wrung her hands in an uncontrollable agony of tears.
"You have been driven away!" exclaimed the king. "This is the second time I have heard that said."
"I have been driven away with shame and ignominy, sire. You see, then, that I have no other protector but Heaven, no consolation but prayer, and this cloister is my only refuge."
"My palace, my whole court, shall be yours. Oh! fear nothing further now, Louise: those, be they men or women, who yesterday drove you away, shall to-morrow tremble before you—to-morrow, do I say? Nay, this very day have I already shown my displeasure—have already threatened. It is in my power, even now, to hurl the thunderbolt which I have hitherto withheld. Louise, Louise, you shall be cruelly revenged; tears of blood shall repay you for the tears you have shed. Give me only the names of your enemies."
"Never, never."
"How can I show my anger, then?"