Dame Berarde: What?
Blanche: That a young man
Follows me when I come from church.
Dame Berarde (laughing): You wish
To chase this handsome man away?
Blanche: Ah, no!
1 think he loves me. Oh, when Sunday comes
I shall be happy!
Dame Berarde: I should think he was
Some noble lord.
Blanche: No! Lords, my father says,
Are men of little faith or honesty.
I hope he is a poor young scholar, filled
With noble thoughts rather than noble blood.
How long it is to Sunday! Would he were
Kneeling before me here. I then would say
Be happy, for I——
[The King comes from behind the tree, and kneels before her.
The King: Love you! Say it sweet:
I love you!
Blanche: If my father comes! Ah, go!