Great was the wrath of the Count, her uncle. But what was done could not be undone. When he was gone she turned her face to me in shame. “What must you think of me?” she said.
“If you will but trust me,” said I, “you will see that I think well of you. Before that you thus sacrificed your future for me I thought you an angel. My life shall be devoted to winning and keeping your love.”
“How do you know I do not love you now?” said she—and fled.
When our army came up and I was well again she had disappeared. I saw her no more for months, being detained from pursuing her by the war which came to an end but slowly. After that I had served King Louis at Peronne and had been taken into his service I heard much of her, but do what I would, could never come near her. At last, despairing, I went to the King and confessed my plight and sought his Majesty’s assistance. “What would you?” said the King.
“Do but let me see her, your Majesty,” said I, “that I may at least have speech of her.”
“That I will do right gladly,” said he.
About a week thereafter I was sent for to the Royal Cabinet and entering found the King with my wife. “Did I not promise to bring you together?” said the King. “Take now thy wife, de Comines and teach her her duty. You may withdraw!”
I offered my hand to my Lady and we withdrew to an antechamber. Here she would fain have left me, but I said: “Lady I am your humble slave. Will you not listen to me?”
“Nay,” said she, “I have said and done unmaidenly things and I am ashamed. Let me withdraw.”
“Not so,” said I, “your acts were acts only of pity which I would fain turn into acts of love if you will only listen.”