Val. Compliance was most hardly wrung from her.
Remonstrance, argument, entreaty failed:
Her constant answer was—"What Heaven gave charge
To do, is done—I may no more essay
In warrant of his will." In vain Du Nois
Appealed to love of martial fame: she heard,
Though not unmoved, yet resolutely firm:
But when the king, half angered, turned away
Half sorrowful, and thus reproachful said,
"Then thou too wilt desert me in my need,"
Sudden she stayed her step, (for she was passing,)
One look inexplicable cast on him,
Then springing to his feet she sobbed convulsed,
"Though all the world desert thee will not I!"—
She leaves at dawn.
Riche. Du Nois?
Val. Will follow us.
Xaintrailles, myself, are ordered to attend her.
Riche. Fortune doth smile on thee! the friend of both,
Sharer of their toils!—needs of their felicity:
The foe dispersed, the nuptial feast succeeds,
And grateful to thy heart the thought, thy arm,
Thy blood their fondest, gentlest wishes aided.
Val. Forbear, my lord! the subject is no jest.
Riche. What envy thou wilt raise! Friendship's just claims
Must too be thine—to aid in his espousals.
Val. (aside.) He racks my heart.
Riche. First in his train appear
With smiling face, yielding alone to him
In bliss.
Val. No more.
Riche. What joy to hear the vow
That makes her his, and read the rapt'rous look
Returned.