me on you who have so robbed me of my
liberty and dazzled my senses with your divine graces, that
not knowing what to do henceforth, I am constrained to go
away without the hope of ever seeing you again; certain,
however, that wherever I may be, you will still have part of
my heart, which will ever remain yours, be I on land, on the
sea, or in the hands of my most cruel enemies." The above is
one of various instances of the liberty taken by Boaistuau
and Gruget with Margaret's text.--Ed.

Florida was not less grieved than astonished to hear these words from
one whom she had never imagined capable of such discourse, and, weeping,
she thus replied--

"Alas, Amadour, is this the honourable converse that we used to have
together while I was young? Is this the honour or conscience which many
a time you counselled me to value more than life? Have you forgotten
both the worthy examples you set before me of virtuous ladies who
withstood unholy love, and also your own contempt for erring women? I
cannot believe you so changed, Amadour, that regard for God, your own
conscience, and my honour is wholly dead within you. But if it indeed
be as you say, I praise the divine goodness which has prevented the
misfortune into which I was about to fall, and has revealed to me by
your own words the heart of which I was so ignorant. Having lost the
son of the Infante of Fortune, not only by my marriage, but also, as
is known to me, by reason of his love for another, and finding myself
wedded to a man whom, strive as I may, I cannot love, I resolved to set
heart and affection entirely on loving you. This love I built upon that
virtue which I had so often perceived in you, and to which by your own
assistance I think I have attained--I mean the virtue of loving one's
honour and conscience more than life. I came hither thinking to make
this rock of virtue a sure foundation of love. But you have in a
moment shown me, Amadour, that instead of a pure and cleanly rock, this
foundation would have been one of shifting sand or filthy mire; and
although a great part of the house in which I hoped always to dwell
had already been raised, you have suddenly demolished it. Lay aside,
therefore, any hope you had concerning me, and make up your mind not to
seek me by look or word wherever I may be, or to hope that I shall ever
be able or willing to change my resolve. It is with the deepest sorrow
that I tell you this,