"She will serve her purpose in the weal of Burgundy, as I do. I give my
life to Burgundy. Why should not this daughter of mine give a few tears?
But her tears are unreasonable. Why should she object to this marriage?
Even though God should hereafter give me a son, who should cut the
princess out of Burgundy, will she not be queen of France? What more
would the perverse girl have? By God, Hymbercourt, it makes my blood
boil to hear you, a man of sound reason, talk like a fool. I hear the
same maudlin protest from the duchess. She, too, is under the spell of
this girl, and mourns over her trumped-up grief like a parish priest at
a bishop's funeral."
"But, my lord, consider the creature your daughter is to marry," said
Hymbercourt. "He is but a child, less than fourteen years of age, and is
weak in mind and body. Surely, it is a wretched fate for your daughter."
"I tell you the girl is perverse," interrupted the duke. "She would
raise a storm were the Dauphin a paragon of manliness. He is a poor,
mean wretch, whom she may easily rule. His weakness will be her
advantage. She is strong enough, God knows, and wilful enough to face
down the devil himself. If there is a perverse wench on all the earth,
who will always have her own way by hook or by crook, it is this
troublesome daughter of mine. She has the duchess wound around her
finger. I could not live with them at Ghent, and sent them here for the
sake of peace. When she is queen of France she will also be king of that
realm--and in God's name what more could the girl ask?"
"But, my lord, let me beg you to consider well this step before you take
it.
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