Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
You know now that it is Fabiano Fabiani, Earl of Clanbra.s.sil?
JANE.
Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
Last night, when they seized you in your house, you had given him a rendezvous, you were waiting for him?
JANE (_wringing her hands_).
Heavens, madame!
THE QUEEN.
Answer!
JANE (_with feeble voice_).
Yes.
THE QUEEN.
You understand that there is no more hope, neither for him nor for you?
JANE.
Nothing but death! That is a hope!
THE QUEEN.
Tell me all about it. Where did you meet this man first?
JANE.
The first time I saw him was-- But what is the use? A poor wretched girl of the people, frivolous and vain, in love with jewels and fine clothes, a girl dazzled with the handsome looks of a great lord--that is all. I am seduced, I am dishonored, I am lost. There is nothing to add to that. My G.o.d, madame, don"t you see that each word I speak is killing me?
THE QUEEN.
Enough.
JANE.
Your anger is terrible, I know it, madame. My head bends now beneath the punishment you have prepared for me.
THE QUEEN.
Punishment for you? Do you think I concern myself about you, simpleton? Who are you, wretched creature, that the Queen should concern herself about you? Oh, no! Fabiano is my affair. As for you, madame, some one else will look out for your punishment.
JANE.
Well, madame, whoever that one may be, whatever the punishment, I will endure all without a murmur. I will even thank you if you will listen to one prayer I am about to make. There is a man who took me in, an orphan from my birth, who adopted me, brought me up, nourished me, loved me, and who loves me still; a man of whom I am most unworthy, toward whom I have been most guilty, and yet whose image lies at the bottom of my heart, beloved, revered, sacred as is that of G.o.d; a man who now, while I am speaking to you, finds his home empty, deserted, robbed, who can"t understand it, and who rends his garments in anguish. Well, madame, what I ask of your Majesty is that he may never understand, that I may disappear without his knowing what has become of me, what I have done, or what you have done with me. Alas, kind Heaven, I do not know how to make you understand, but you ought to feel that I have a friend in him--a n.o.ble, generous friend. Poor Gilbert! yes, it is true, he respects me and believes me pure, and I do not want him to hate me and despise me! Oh, you understand me, don"t you, madame? That man"s respect is a great deal more to me than my life. And then it will make him suffer so much--such a surprise! He won"t believe it at first. No, he will not believe it. My G.o.d! Poor Gilbert. Oh, madame, have pity on him and on me! He has done you no harm! In the name of Heaven, keep him from knowing the awful truth! In the name of Heaven, don"t let him know that I am guilty. He will kill himself. Don"t let him know that I am dead. He will die too.
THE QUEEN.
The man you are speaking of is here; he is listening to you; he will judge you, he will punish you! [_Gilbert appears._
JANE.
Heavens! Gilbert!
GILBERT (_to the Queen_).
My life belongs to you, madame.
THE QUEEN.
Good. Have you any conditions to make?
GILBERT.
Yes, madame!
THE QUEEN.
What are they? We give you our royal word that we will grant them.
GILBERT.
This, madame. It is very simple. It is a debt of grat.i.tude I pay to one of your n.o.ble lords, who employed me a great deal in my capacity as engraver.
THE QUEEN.
Speak!
GILBERT.
This lord has a secret liaison with a woman whom he cannot marry because she belongs to a proscribed family. This woman, who up to the present time has lived in concealment, is the only daughter and heiress of the last Lord Talbot, beheaded under King Henry VIII.
THE QUEEN.
What? Are you sure of what you are saying? You say, John Talbot, the good Catholic lord, the loyal defender of my mother of Aragon, has left a daughter? Upon my crown, if that is true, this child is my daughter. And what John Talbot did for the mother of Mary of England, Mary of England will do for the daughter of John Talbot.
GILBERT.