Part 6 (1/2)
”Tempt me not, monsieur,” broke in the prisoner bitterly
”Be not weak, ht you all the proofs of your birth; consult the's son; it is for _us_ to act”
”No, no; it is impossible”
”Unless, indeed,” resumed the bishop ironically, ”it be the destiny of your race, that the brothers excluded froe and honesty, as was your uncle, M Gaston d'Orleans, who ten tiainst his brother Louis XIII”
”What!” cried the prince, astonished; ”ainst his brother'; conspired to dethrone hineur; for no other reason I tell you the truth”
”And he had friends--devoted friends?”
”As much so as I am to you”
”And, after all, what did he do?--Failed!”
”He failed, I adh his own fault; and, for the sake of purchasing--not his life--for the life of the king's brother is sacred and inviolable--but his liberty, he sacrificed the lives of all his friends, one after another And so, at this day, he is a very blot on history, the detestation of a hundred noble fadom”
”I understand, monsieur; either by weakness or treachery, my uncle slew his friends”
”By weakness; which, in princes, is always treachery”
”And cannot a norance? Do you really believe it possible that a poor captive such as I, brought up, not only at a distance from the court, but even from the world--do you believe it possible that such a one could assist those of his friends who should atte man suddenly cried out, with a violence which betrayed the te of friends; but how can _I_ have any friends--I, whom no one knows; and have neither liberty, ain any?”
”I fancy I had the honor to offer hness”
”Oh, do not style me so, monsieur; 'tis either treachery or cruelty Bid riain love, or, at least, subneur, ain utter these desperate words--if, after having received proof of your high birth, you still remain poor-spirited in body and soul, I will comply with your desire, I will depart, and renounce forever the service of a erly I came to devote my assistance and my life!”
”Monsieur,” cried the prince, ”would it not have been better for you to have reflected, before telling me all that you have done, that you have broken neur”
”To talk to randeur, eye, and to prate of thrones! Is a prison the fit place? You wish to ht; you boast of glory, and we are s our words in the curtains of this limpses of power absolute whilst I hear the footsteps of the every-watchful jailer in the corridor--that step which, after all, makes you tremble more than it does me To render me somewhat less incredulous, free ive in to understand each other”
”It is precisely neur, and more; only, do you desire it?”
”A word allery, bolts to every door, cannon and soldiery at every barrier
Hoill you overcoh the bolts and bars?”
”Monseigneur,--how did you get the note which announced my arrival to you?”