“What do you know of these things?”
“My own eyes have seen their distress, their want, their sufferings. Men workless and despairing, women hopeless and languishing, children starving and crying for the food which the parents cannot give them. We who are rich and have plenty can but scantily measure the pain of those in want. Even when we see it for ourselves we cannot realize all its misery; and those of us who never see it cannot even believe in its existence.”
“Would you have me don a monk’s garb, then, and turn bread carrier to a set of worthless wastrels?” asked the Governor half in anger, half in sardonic humour.
“Nay, my lord, it is in no such spirit I would approach you. But you have the power to administer relief which all others lack. I would but have you recognize the evil and apply the remedy.”
“You make a beautiful advocate, Mistress Gabrielle, and you, if anyone, can work your will with me. I would gladly see these things with your eyes—to please you,” he said with a meaning glance.
“I am but of small account, and to please me is a very little thing, and at best a poor motive for doing right.”
“It would be my only motive, poor or rich. But I fear you understand the art of government but ill. We must have money to administer the town. We must have troops, and troops must be paid and fed, fair advocate.”
“Why? Is force in the hand of the ruler a surer foundation of rule than content and prosperity among the ruled?”
“The world cannot wag without soldiers, mademoiselle, and Morvaix can only be ruled by force.”
“Must a populace be starved that the soldiers may be fat? If I seem to speak boldly, it is because I feel deeply. And if I offend, I crave your pardon, monsieur.”