“Yes; a night’s rest will probably restore me.”
“Shall I leave you?”
“No; I wish to talk to you.”
“You shall not speak to me, Guiche, until you have first
answered my questions.”
“Proceed then.”
“You will be frank with me?”
“I always am.”
“Can you imagine why Buckingham has been so violent?”
“I suspect.”
“Because he is in love with Madame, is it not?”
“One could almost swear to it, to observe him.”
“You are mistaken; there is nothing of the kind.”
“It is you who are mistaken, Raoul; I have read his distress
in his eyes, in his every gesture and action the whole day.”
“You are a poet, my dear count, and find subject for your
muse everywhere.”
“I can perceive love clearly enough.”
“Where it does not exist?”
“Nay, where it does exist.”
“Do you not think you are deceiving yourself, Guiche?”
“I am convinced of what I say,” said the count.
“Now, inform me count,” said Raoul, fixing a penetrating
look upon him, “what has happened to render you so
clear-sighted?”
Guiche hesitated for a moment, and then answered,
“Self-love, I suppose.”
“Self-love is a pedantic word, Guiche.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that, generally, you are less out of spirits than
seems to be the case this evening.”
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“I am fatigued.”
“Listen to me, Guiche; we have been campaigners together; we
have been on horseback for eighteen hours at a time, and our
horses dying from exhaustion, or hunger, have fallen beneath
us, and yet we have laughed at our mishaps. Believe me, it
is not fatigue that saddens you to-night.”
“It is annoyance, then.”
“What annoyance?”
“That of this evening.”
“The mad conduct of the Duke of Buckingham, do you mean?”
“Of course; is it not vexatious for us, the representatives
of our sovereign master, to witness the devotion of an
Englishman to our future mistress, the second lady in point
of rank in the kingdom?”
“Yes, you are right; but I do not think any danger is to be
apprehended from Buckingham.”
“No; still he is intrusive. Did he not, on his arrival here,
almost succeed in creating a disturbance between the English
and ourselves; and, had it not been for you, for your
admirable prudence, for your singular decision of character,
swords would have been drawn in the very streets of the
town.”
“You observe, however, that he has changed his tactics.”
“Yes, certainly; but this is the very thing that amazes me
so much. You spoke to him in a low tone of voice, what did
you say to him? You think he loves her; you admit that such
a passion does not give way readily. He does not love her,
then!” De Guiche pronounced the latter with so marked an
expression that Raoul raised his head. The noble character
of the young man’s countenance expressed a displeasure which
could easily be read.
“What I said to him, count,” replied Raoul, “I will repeat
to you. Listen to me. I said, `You are regarding with
wistful feelings, and most injurious desire, the sister of
your prince, — her to whom you are not affianced, who is
not, who can never be anything to you; you are outraging
those who, like ourselves, have come to seek a young lady to
escort her to her husband.'”
“You spoke to him in that manner?” asked Guiche coloring.
“In those very terms; I even added more. `How would you
regard us,’ I said, `if you were to perceive among us a man
mad enough, disloyal enough, to entertain other than
sentiments of the most perfect respect for a princess who is
the destined wife of our master?'”
These words were so applicable to De Guiche that he turned
pale, and, overcome by a sudden agitation, was barely able
to stretch out one hand mechanically towards Raoul, as he
covered his eyes and face with the other.
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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
“But,” continued Raoul, not interrupted by this movement of
his friend, “Heaven be praised, the French who are
pronounced to be thoughtless and indiscreet, reckless, even,
are capable of bringing a calm and sound judgment to bear on