The king was about to reply, but she stopped him eagerly: "I am foolish to argue with you," she continued; "You have said I have triumphed, you have said I shall have the powers; and, though he may conquer me in argument, my Henry's word is never broken. Besides," she added, "have I not a private suit to be heard and granted also?"
"Ha!" said the king, after pausing thoughtfully for a moment or two, as if he were still unconvinced, and unwilling to leave the subject on which they had just been conversing, "ha! I had forgot! You did mention some private suit—what, I remember not now, sweet Diana. But yet it is hard even to hear of peace after defeat. Were we just hot from victory—were we flushed with triumph, and our enemy reduced to lowly supplication—then, indeed, then we might hear of terms of peace, and grant them liberally and willingly. But after this accursed battle of St. Laurence; after so total, so signal, and terrible a defeat—the constable himself taken, one half of the nobility of the land wounded or slain, our soldiers scattered, and our provinces, invaded—it is bitter indeed to hear the name of peace."
"As bitter to Henry's heart," replied the lady, "as the sound of war to many another man. But you have promised, sire. You have promised Montmorency the full powers, and—you have forgotten my petition."
"Well, well," said the king, with a sigh, "what is your petition? I know that you have no private interest in this matter, Diana, You never were a friend to Montmorency."
The lady coloured slightly, but replied at once. "I never was his friend, sire, while haughty fortune smiled upon him, and when he urged measures harsh and injurious to the country upon your majesty; but I will own that I am his friend now, when, bearing his adversity with calmness and with dignity, he would fain persuade your majesty to that which is most necessary for the safety of your realm. So much, indeed, am I his friend, your majesty, now, that I have promised to mingle our families together by the marriage of our sweet Henrietta with his son Damville. Nay, start not, sire, I told you of this before."
"Did you?" exclaimed the king, "did you? I recollect it not. Yet now methinks I do remember something thereof; but I must have been thinking of other things. How can I consent to such a contract?" continued the king. "Recollect, dear lady! Is there not a story current of Damville, like his brother, having bound himself by a secret marriage to an Italian woman?"
"There is some tale of the kind, sire," replied the Duchess of Valentinois, "but I believe without foundation. Even were it so, however, sire," she continued, eagerly, "what matters it, in truth? The connexion has long ceased: the pope will annul the marriage instantly; and, not many months ago, your majesty vowed that you would give an edict rendering clandestine marriages of no effect, and declaring all illegal but such as have the full consent of the nearest surviving relative of both parties, always under your majesty's good pleasure."
"I recollect," replied the king. "The edict was drawn up, but never signed, because, as it deeply affected ecclesiastical matters, it was thought best to have the sanction of our holy father in Rome, and he made manifold objections. But that edict, even had it issued, could not affect the past."
"Your majesty will pardon me," replied the lady. "It had a clause which rendered it retrospective—at least I am so informed, in a letter which I received not many hours ago from your faithful subject the good Count of Meyrand, whom you intrusted to carry the edict to Rome. Had it not that retrospective sense," she added, eagerly, "the hopes and expectations of Montmorency and myself would both be very bitterly disappointed."
The king's brow grew somewhat cloudy, and she added suddenly, "Not for myself, sire! I speak not for myself, and with no reference to this proposed marriage between Henriette de la Mark and the young Damville. But there is one thing for which I know the good constable has long sighed. The duke, his eldest son, is more ambitious than your majesty dreams of."