"Alas, Sire, I dare not return to Court; every look would condemn me!"
"Condemn you! Believe me, I will place you so high that no one shall dare to condemn you. Am I not the master?"
"Oh, suffer me to lay my sins upon the altar! Do not seek to prevent it," sighs La Vallière, clasping her hands. "But remember, Sire, oh, remember, that in my heart you can have no rival but heaven." She speaks with passion, but she dares not look up at him; had she done so, she would have quailed before the expression of his eyes;—they devour her.
All this is said very low, in order not to be overheard by the Superior, who, although she has retired as far as the doorway, is still present.
"Louise, you do not love me. You have never loved me," whispers Louis, and he turns away. He is deeply offended; her resistance to his commands enrages him.
"Ah, heaven!" La Vallière sighs, and turns her blue eyes, swimming with tears, towards him, "would to God it were so!" She speaks in so subdued a tone—she is so crushed, so fragile—that the King's compassion is suddenly excited; he looks steadfastly into her face; he trembles lest she may die under this trial. Again he takes her hand, raises her from her chair, and draws her towards the door.
"If you love me, Louise, follow me. I cannot live without you!" he adds almost fiercely. "Fear nothing. Her Majesty shall receive you. The Queen-mother and Madame"—at their names La Vallière quivers all over—"shall offend you no more. Leave this horrible cell, my Louise. Come, and let me enshrine you in a temple worthy of your beauty, your goodness, and of my love," he adds, in a fervid whisper, which makes her heart throb with rapture. "Come!"
Louise returns to Saint-Germain. She is created Duchesse de la Vallière, and is appointed Lady of the Bedchamber to Queen Maria Theresa.