them in. It is easy to believe that the King evinced much affection for so faithful, zealous, and charming a subject.
The presence of the Chevalier, and all the successes he had achieved, reopened the wound in the Queen's heart, that had never been quite healed. She thought him more charming than ever; and as soon as she was at liberty to speak to Floride, she recommenced her complaints. "Thou hast seen what I have done to ruin him," said she; "I thought it the only means of forgetting him. An unequalled fatality brings him back to me again; and whatever reasons I had to despise a man so much my inferior, and who returned my affections with the blackest ingratitude, I cannot help loving him still, and I am resolved to marry him privately." "To marry him?" cried Floride; "is it possible?—have I heard rightly?" "Yes," replied the Queen, "thou hast heard my intentions; thou must aid me. I desire thee to bring Fortuné this evening to my chamber; I will myself declare to what extent my love for him will carry me." Floride, in despair at being chosen to assist in forwarding the marriage of her mistress and her lover, tried every means to dissuade the Queen from seeing him; she represented the King's anger, if he came and discovered this intrigue; that perhaps he would order the Chevalier to be executed, or at least condemn him to perpetual imprisonment, and she would never see him more. All her eloquence was in vain; she saw the Queen was beginning to be angry;—she had nothing, therefore, to do but obey her.
She found Fortuné in the gallery of the palace, where he was having the golden statues arranged that he had brought from Matapa. She told him to come in the evening to the Queen. This order made him tremble. Floride perceived his distress. "Oh," said she, "how I pity you! By what unlucky fate did the Princess lose her heart to you! Alas! I know one less dangerous than hers, that dare not declare itself." The Chevalier was not anxious for another explanation,—he had already too much to endure; and as he did not seek to please the Queen, he dressed himself very plainly, that she might not imagine he endeavoured to set himself off; but though he could dispense with his diamonds and his embroideries, he could not get rid of his personal charms—he was still lovely, still admirable, whatever humour he was in. There was no one to be compared to him.
