me for two whole years; you have never shown me aught of your life but
its flowers; you have never entered my solitude but with a joyous
countenance, and each time with a fresh favor. Ah, you must be very
guilty or very virtuous!"

"Do not seek in my soul more than therein lies. Yes, I have deceived
you; and that fact was the only peace and joy I had in the world.
Forgive me for having stolen these moments from my destiny, so brilliant,
alas! I was happy in the happiness you supposed me to enjoy; I made you
happy in that dream, and I am only guilty in that I am now about to
destroy it, and to show myself as I was and am. Listen: I shall not
detain you long; the story of an impassioned heart is ever simple. Once
before, I remember, in my tent when I was wounded, my secret nearly
escaped me; it would have been happy, perhaps, had it done so. Yet what
would counsel have availed me? I should not have followed it. In a
word, 'tis Marie de Mantua whom I love."

"How! she who is to be Queen of Poland?"

"If she is ever queen, it can only be after my death. But listen: for
her I became a courtier; for her I have almost reigned in France; for her
I am about to fall--perhaps to die."

"Die! fall! when I have been reproaching your triumph! when I have
wept over the sadness of your victory!"

"Ah! you know me but ill, if you suppose that I shall be the dupe of
Fortune, when she smiles upon me; if you suppose that I have not pierced
to the bottom of my destiny! I struggle against it, but 'tis the
stronger I feel it. I have undertaken a task beyond human power; and I