"'I beg Your Highness to observe that this is the first time that you have deigned to speak to me with such confidence. One declaration of this kind made to me in Naples with that accent of truth would, I dare to think, have been enough to enable me to fulfil in an entirely satisfactory manner the mission with which Your Royal Highness was pleased to entrust me. But what had I to oppose to the King's doubts? What could I tell him to reassure his conscience? Nothing, Madame, for you had told me nothing. My personal conviction could carry no weight Your friends, moreover, reproached me with it. To admit that one believed in Your Highness' marriage seemed to them almost an act of treachery. I could therefore say nothing and I was obliged to leave the King in the fulness of his doubts. Do not believe, Madame, that it is to Charles X.'s interest to stigmatize the widow of his son and the mother of his grandson. No, he shows himself only jealous of your honour as a widow and a mother, believe me. The King may have disapproved of a marriage contracted without his knowledge, he may even have become irritated at it; but to-day he asks only to set his conscience at rest and to shelter your honour. Your Royal Highness speaks of the strength which public opinion will give you. You seem to threaten the King and the Powers with your anger. Alas, all those outbursts would only be new and great misfortunes. It is very painful for me to be reduced to give utterance only to cruel words. But it is necessary that Madame should at last know the truth, so that she may resolve upon a necessary sacrifice. No, Madame is no longer in a situation to dictate terms or impose conditions: she still judges her position from the height of the pedestal upon which public opinion for some time placed her. No doubt, if Your Royal Highness had remained there; if, after the admiration inspired by her sublime courage, constancy, devotion, we had had to bemoan only her reverses and her captivity, not only would Madame have lost none of her spell, but she would have left Blaye even greater than when she entered it. She would not have had to dictate conditions, for she would have found none but submissive wills before her. But, unhappily for Madame and for France, the declaration made in the month of February has completely and cruelly changed all that. Believe, Madame, the voice of a friend who will never be able to give you a greater proof of his devotion than he is doing at this moment; or rather, listen only to your reason. It will make you understand why and to what extent your position is changed. You will admit how guilty is the want of reflection of those who advise you to resort to resistance and even threats. Everyone pities you, Madame, but no one is any longer afraid of you.