"Have I not told you that you would earn nothing for your reward but my hatred? In the despair of my heart, have I not told you that I love another man? Oh, you have come to tell me that you spare me the sacrifice—have you not? You will not force a helpless girl to marry you, who does so only to escape a convent—will you? Oh, tell me that you have summoned manliness enough to resist the empress, and to give me my freedom!"
"I have summoned manliness enough to resist you; and bearing your anger, I am resolved to take the bewitching woman to wife whom my generous empress has selected for me."
"You are a contemptible coward!" cried she.
"I forgive you the epithet, because I am in love," replied he, with a smile.
"But if you have no pity for me," cried she wildly, "have pity on yourself. You have seen how I treat my uncle, and yet I love him dearly. Think what your fate will be, since I hate you immeasurably."
"Ah," said he, "can you expect me to be more merciful to myself than to you? No, no! I rely upon my love to conquer your hate. It will do so all in good time."
"As there is a God in heaven, you will rue this hour!" cried Margaret with mingled defiance and despair.
"Come, countess, come. The empress and her son await us in the court-chapel."
Margaret shivered, and drew her veil around her. She advanced toward the door, but as the count was in the act of opening it, she laid her two hands upon his arm, and held him back. "Have mercy with my soul!" sobbed she. "It is lost if I become your wife. I have a stormy temper, and sorrow will expand it into wickedness. I feel that I shall be capable of crime if you force me to this marriage."
"Gracious Heaven!" cried the count, pettishly, "if you abhor me to such a degree, why do you not go into a convent?"