surprise me, my son. Am I equal to
God? From your lips I first learn that I go abroad rendering oracles,
and with my hands working miracles.

_Louis_--At least ten years, father! grant me ten more years to live,
and upon you I shall lavish honors and presents.... I shall found
shrines to your name, in gold and jasper shall have your relics set;
but!--twenty years more life are too little a reward for so much wealth
and incense. I beseech you, work a whole miracle! Do not cut so short
the thread of my life. A whole miracle! give me new life and prolong my
days!

_Francis_--To do God's work is not in his creature's power. What! when
everything dies, you alone should last! King, such is not God's will. I
his feeble creature cannot alter for you the course of nature. All that
which grows must vanish, all that which is born must perish, man himself
and his works, the tree and its fruit alike. All that produces does so
only for a time; 'tis the law here below, for eternity death alone shall
fructify.

_Louis_--You wear out my patience. Do your duty, monk! Work in my favor
your marvelous power; for if you refuse, I shall compel you. Do you
forget that I am a king? The holy oil anointed my forehead. Oh, pardon
me! but it is your duty to do more for kings, for crowned heads, than
for those obscure and unfortunate wretches whom, but for your prayers,
God in heaven would never have remembered.

_Francis_--Kings and their subjects are equal in the eyes of the Lord;
he owes you his aid as to the rest of his children; be more just to
yourself, and claim for your soul that help for which you beg.

_Louis_ [_eagerly_]--No, not so much at a time: let us now mind the
body; I shall think of the soul by-and-by.

_Francis_--It is your remorse, O King, 'tis that smarting wound
inflicted by your crimes, which slowly drags your body to final ruin.

_Louis_--The priests absolved me.

_Francis_--Vain hope! The weight of your present alarms is made up of
thirty years of iniquitous life. Confess your shame, disclose your sins,
and let sincere repentance wash away your defiled soul.

_Louis_--Should I get cured?

_Francis_--Perhaps.

_Louis_--Say yes, promise that I shall. I am going to confess all.

_Francis_--To me?

_Louis_--Such is my will. Listen.

_Francis_ [_seating himself whilst the King stands up with clasped
hands_]--Speak then, sinner, who summon me to perform this holy
ministry.

_Louis_ [_after having recited menta