"_Au revoir_, Sire, and pray don't be rash and careless in this tilting; you make me shudder sometimes." "There is no danger there, I'm sorry to say; for I could wish that there might be, so that I might seem a little more deserving in your eyes. But time is passing, and my two Dianes are both impatient. Tell me just once more that you love me." "Sire, I love you as I always have loved you, and as I shall love you forever." The king, before letting the curtain fall behind him, threw her a last kiss with his hand. "Adieu, my dearly loving and dearly loved Diane," said he. And he left her. Then a panel hidden by hangings in the opposite wall opened. "For the love of heaven, have you done enough chattering for to-day?" said the Constable de Montmorency, roughly, as he came into the room. "My friend," said Diane, rising, "you must have seen that even before ten o'clock, which was the hour of my appointment with you, I did everything I could to send him away. I was quite as uncomfortable as you were, believe me." "As uncomfortable as I! _Pasques-Dieu_! no, my dear; and if you flatter yourself that your discourse was either instructive or entertaining--In the first place, what is this new crotchet, of refusing your daughter Diane's hand to my son François, after having solemnly promised it? By the crown of thorns! would one not say that the bastard was conferring a great honor on the Montmorency family by condescending to enter it? The marriage must take place; do you understand, Diane? And you must take measures to see that it does. It is the only means left of restoring the balance between us and the Guises, whom the deuce take! So, Diane, in spite of the king, in spite of the Pope, in spite of everything, I wish that this should come to pass." "But, my friend--" "Ah!" cried the constable, "and when I tell you that I wish it so, _Pater noster_!" "It shall be as you say, my friend," Diane in her fear of him made haste to say. [Footnote 1: Sweet and lovely little mouth, Fresher and ruddier than bud of eglantine At morn! Sweeter and more fragrant than the immortal amaranth, And a hundred times dearer Than the gentle dew which waters the earth, Drop by drop, in the sweetest month! Kiss me, sweet friend; kiss me, dear life. Kiss me lovingly, closely, until I say: Alas, my love, I can bear no more! Alas, my God, I can bear no more! Then take away thy little mouth, till dead I sigh; Then bestow on me the rest. Thus, sweet warrior, my heart, my light, my all, Let us live together; let us live And follow the sweet delights of youth, Since near the haven old age threatens us, Which, bowed and trembling, tottering, brings us Sickness and death.] CHAPTER V IN THE APARTMENTS OF THE ROYAL CHILDREN