Well, sire, I submit--not only to resign the prince, but to marry again, to marry without love.

Perhaps my soul will be lost by this perjury, but what matters that--it is a plaything in the hands of the king?
He may break my heart, but it shall not be dishonored and trodden in the dust.

The prince shall cease to love me, but I will not be despised by him.

He shall not think me a miserable coquette, despise, and laugh at me.

Now, sire, you can crush me in your anger.