“She has been here little more than half an hour, and I had no expectation she would come this evening.”
“You love me just a little, then, marquise?”
“That is not the question now; it is of your danger; how are your affairs going on?”
“I am going this evening to get my friends out of the prisons of the Palais.”
“How will you do that?”
“By buying and bribing the governor.”
“He is a friend of mine; can I assist you, without injuring you?”
“Oh! marquise, it would be a signal service; but how can you be employed without your being compromised? Now, never shall my life, my power, or even my liberty, be purchased at the expense of a single tear from your eyes, or of one frown of pain upon your brow.”
“Monseigneur, no more such words, they bewilder me; I have been culpable in trying to serve you, without calculating the extent of what I was doing. I love you in reality, as a tender friend; and as a friend, I am grateful for your delicate attentions—but, alas!—alas! you will never find a mistress in me.”
“Marquise!” cried Fouquet, in a tone of despair; “why not?”