“Listen to me, sire, I beseech you,” said Queen Claude. “You have done Bourbon grievous wrong. Make him some amends. You know I rarely interfere with your proceedings, but in this case I cannot refrain. I would not have you commit injustice.”
“Do you also tax me with injustice?” said the king, frowning.
“I have said it, sire,” she replied.
“I should be wanting in duty to your majesty if I remained silent,” said Montmorency. “In my opinion, Bourbon has been unjustly treated.”
“You, too, against me, marshal?” cried the king.
“I will answer for Bourbon's loyalty with my head, sire,” said Saint-Vallier.
“And so will I,” added René de Bretagne.
“I take you at your word, messieurs,” replied François. “Charles de Bourbon, you are free to depart.”
“Sire, you do wrong in granting this permission,” sad the Duchess d'Angoulême.
“Beware, madame,” said the Dame de Beaujeu, stepping towards her. And clutching her hand, she whispered, “Interfere, and I will proclaim your infamy to all around.”