Having exhausted all her arguments, Cosel threw herself on the sofa. The King, seeing no means of reconciling them, either by calming Flemming or by softening the irritated Countess, extended his hand to the General and conducted him to the door. Then Augustus began to pace up and down; he was thoughtful, and it was evident that he was occupied with matters of greater importance.
Cosel loaded him reproaches.
"Alas! sire," said she, "then it has come to this, that your servants insult me. It is my fate. Flemming laughs at the one you say you love."
"Dear Countess," he replied calmly, "all that you say proves that you do not know how I am situated. At this moment I need Flemming more than I do my right hand: to make him angry is to renounce the crown of Poland. You cannot ask that of me, and if you did, as a King I should not do it. You know that I do not refuse you anything, but there is a limit to all things. I was a King before I was Cosel's lover."
Frowning, fearful, mad, Cosel rushed towards Augustus.
"Lover!" she screamed. "I have your written promise. I am not your mistress; I am your wife!"
Augustus made a grimace.
"All the more reason you should pay attention to the interests of my crown," he replied.
Again Cosel relapsed into tears. Augustus looked at the clock.
"I am not master of my own time," said he, "I have too much to do. I must leave for Poland shortly. Dear Countess, be calm, Flemming is impetuous, but he loves me, and will do what I ask him."