"Queens have no friends; if you have nothing further to say to me—if you feel yourself inspired by Heaven as a prophetess—leave me, I pray, for I dread the future."
"I should have supposed," said the Beguine, resolutely, "that you would rather have dreaded the past."
Hardly had these words escaped her lips, than the queen rose up proudly. "Speak," she cried, in a short, imperious tone of voice, "explain yourself briefly, quickly, entirely; or, if not—"
"Nay, do not threaten me, your majesty," said the Beguine, gently; "I came to you full of compassion and respect. I came here on the part of a friend."
"Prove that to me! Comfort instead of irritating me."
"Easily enough: and your majesty will see who is friendly to you. What misfortune has happened to your majesty during these three and twenty years past—"
"Serious misfortunes, indeed; have I not lost the king?"
"I speak not of misfortunes of that kind. I wish to ask you, if since the birth of the king, any indiscretion on a friend's part has caused your majesty the slightest serious anxiety or distress?"
"I do not understand you," replied the queen, setting her teeth hard together in order to conceal her emotion.
"I will make myself understood, then. Your majesty remembers that the king was born on the 5th of September, 1633, at a quarter-past eleven o'clock."