The King holds a Council to appoint a successor to the Constable in Italy.
This scene is of stirring interest. The Queen goads the high-minded
Bourbon nigh unto madness, and at length breaks out into open insult.
Lautrec the brother of Françoise, and despised by Bourbon, is named the
governor. In the ceremony Francis addresses Lautrec:--

FRANCIS.

With our own royal hand we'll buckle on
The sword, that in thy grasp must be the bulwark
And lode-star of our host. Approach.

QUEEN.

Not so.
Your pardon, sir; but it hath ever been
The pride and privilege of woman's hand
To arm the valour that she loves so well:
We would not, for your crown's best jewel, bate
One jot of our accustom'd state to-day:
Count Lautrec, we will arm thee, at our feet:
Take thou the brand which wins thy country's wars,--
Thy monarch's trust, and thy fair lady's favour.
Why, how now!--how is this!--my lord of Bourbon!
If we mistake not, 'tis the sword of office
Which graces still your baldrick;--with your leave,
We'll borrow it of you.

BOURBON (_starting up_.)