the rejection of the King's offered love by "Lotys," woman of the people:
"Lotys!" he said; "Are you so cold, so frozen
in an icewall of conventionality that you cannot
warm to passion—not even to that passion which
every pulse of you is ready to return? What do
you want of me? Lover's oaths? Vows of constancy?
Oh, beloved woman as you are, do you
not understand that you have entered into my very
heart of hearts—that you hold my whole life in your
possession? You—not I—are the ruling power of
this country! What you say, that I will do! What
you command, that will I obey! While you live, I
will live—when you die, I will die! Through you
I have learned the value of sovereignty,—the good
that can be done to a country by honest work in
kingship,—through you I have won back my disaffected
subjects to loyalty;—it is all you—only
you! And if you blamed me once as a worthless
king, you shall never have cause to so blame me
again! But you must help me,—you must help me
with your love!"
She strove to control the beating of her heart, as she looked upon him and listened to his pleading. She resolutely shut her soul to the persuasive music of his voice, the light of his eyes, the tenderness of his smile.
"What of the Queen?" she said.
He started back, as though he had been stung.
"The Queen!" he repeated mechanically—"The Queen!"
"Ay, the Queen!" said Lotys. "She is your wife—the mother of your sons! She has never loved you, you would say,—you have never loved her. But you are her husband! Would you make me your mistress?"
Her voice was calm. She put the plain question
