“Good!” said Jeanne, “here is a lesson for me,” and kissing Diana on the forehead, she ran away. Diana tried to stop her, but Bussy seized her hands, and she let her friend go. They remained alone. “Have I not done well, madame,” said Bussy, “and do you not approve?” “I do not desire to feign,” said Diana, “besides, it would be useless; you know I approve; but here must stop my indulgence; in calling for you as I did just now I was mad--I was guilty.” “Mon Dieu! What do you say?” “Alas I count, the truth; I have a right to make M. de Monsoreau unhappy, to withhold from him my smiles and my love, but I have no right to bestow them on another: for, after all, he is my master.” “Now, you will let me speak, will you not?” “Speak!” “Well! of all that you have just said, you do not find one word in your heart.” “How!” “Listen patiently; you have overwhelmed me with sophisms. The commonplaces of morality do not apply here; this man is your master, you say, but did you choose him? No; fate imposed him on you, and you submitted. Now, do you mean to suffer all your life the consequences, of this odious constraint? I will deliver you from it.” Diana tried to speak, but Bussy stopped her. “Oh! I know what you are going to say; that if I provoke M. de Monsoreau and kill him, you will see me no more. So be it; I may die of grief, but you will live free and happy, and you may render happy some gallant man, who in his joy will sometimes bless my name, and cry, ‘Thanks, Bussy, thanks, for having delivered us from that dreadful Monsoreau;’ and you, yourself, Diana, who will not dare to thank me while living, will thank me dead.” Diana seized his hand. “You have not yet implored me, Bussy; you begin with menaces.” “Menace you! oh! could I have such an intention, I, who love you so ardently, Diana. I know you love me; do not deny it, I know it, for you have avowed it. Here, on my knees before you, my hand on my heart, which has never lied, either from interest or from fear, I say to you, Diana, I love you, for my whole life. Diana, I swear to you, that if I die for you, it will be in adoring you. If you still say to me, ‘go,’ I will go without a sigh, or complaint, from this place where I am so happy, and I should say, ‘this woman does not love me, and never will love me.’ Then I should go away, and you would see me no more, but as my devotion for you is great, my desire to see you happy would survive the certainty that I could never be happy myself.” Bussy said this with so much emotion, and, at the same time firmness, that Diana felt sure that he would do all he said, and she cried,-- “Thanks, count, for you take from me all remorse by your threats.” Saying these words, she gave him her hand, which he kissed passionately. Then they heard the light steps of Jeanne, accompanied by a warning cough. Instinctively the clasped hands parted. Jeanne saw it.