“The King may be of a less vigorous temperament than you, yet the love
he bears me contents me well, and I prefer it to any other.”
“Madam,” said the gentleman, “if that were so, I should have no pity for
you. I feel sure that you would be well pleased if the like of your own
virtuous love were found in the King’s heart; but God has withheld this
from you in order that, not finding what you desire in your husband, you
may not make him your god on earth.”
“I confess to you,” said the Queen, “that the love I bear him is so
great that the like could not be found in any other heart but mine.”
“Pardon me, madam,” said the gentleman; “you have not fathomed the love
of every heart. I will be so bold as to tell you that you are loved by
one whose love is so great and measureless that your own is as nothing
beside it. The more he perceives that the King’s love fails you, the
more does his own wax and increase, in such wise that, were it your
pleasure, you might be recompensed for all you have lost.”
The Queen began to perceive, both from these words and from the
gentleman’s countenance, that what he said came from the depth of his
heart. She remembered also that for a long time he had so zealously
sought to do her service that he had fallen into sadness. She had
hitherto deemed this to be on account of his wife, but now she was
firmly of belief that it was for love of herself. Moreover, the very
quality of love, which compels itself to be recognised when it is
unfeigned, made her feel certain of what had been hidden from every one.
As she looked at the gentleman, who was far more worthy of being loved
than her husband, she reflected that he was forsaken by his wife, as
she herself was by the King; and then, beset by vexation and jealousy
against her husband, as well as moved by the love of the gentleman, she
began with sighs and tearful eyes to say--
“Ah me! shall revenge prevail with me where love has been of no avail?”