"His great nature may be made very small."
"You will not, you dare not, rob me of my only friend! I implore you! I'll ask for nothing more as long as I live. I'll be obedient and submissive. I can no longer offer you love. Grant me but this one request: leave me my only friend!"
"Your only friend? I don't know that title. As far as I know, there is no such position at court."
"On my knees, I implore you! Don't mortify him! let me keep this one friend. He's great, pure, noble; it is he alone who reconciles me to life!"
The queen was about to throw herself on her knees before the king. He touched her--she shuddered and drew herself up.
"Be proud!" exclaimed the king. "Be so! and bear the consequences! Be the exalted one, the pure drop from the heavenly cloud mingling with me, the dust of the highway--"
The queen looked up amazed. What was it she had heard? The words of her noble friend thus repeated and distorted. Her head swam.
"Be what you will!" continued the king. "Be alone, and seek support in yourself!"
He pulled at the betrothal ring on his finger. It was difficult to get it off, and his face grew red while he pulled at it with all his strength. At last, he drew it over his knuckle. Without saying a word, he laid the ring on the table before the queen.
He walked to the door. He stopped for a moment, as if listening for a word from her--a word to which he would have replied from the depths of his heart, a word which would have saved and reconciled them both.