In short, I see you to tell you that we must never see each other again." "Speak on, madame, speak on, Queen," said Buckingham; "the sweetness of your voice covers the harshness of your words.

You talk of sacrilege! Why, the sacrilege is the separation of two hearts formed by God for each other." "My Lord," cried the queen, "you forget that I have never said that I love you." "But you have never told me that you did not love me; and truly, to speak such words to me would be, on the part of your Majesty, too great an ingratitude.

For tell me, where can you find a love like mine--a love which neither time, nor absence, nor despair can extinguish, a love which contents itself with a lost ribbon, a stray look, or a chance word?
It is now three years, madame, since I saw you for the first time, and during those three years I have loved you thus.

Shall I tell you each ornament of your toilet?
Mark! I see you now.

You were seated upon cushions in the Spanish fashion; you wore a robe of green satin embroidered with gold and silver, hanging sleeves knotted upon your beautiful arms--those lovely arms--with large diamonds.