"My brother, I am not sad."

"What, then?"

"In love."

"Good! And this preoccupation?"

"Is because I am always thinking of my love."

"And you sigh in saying that?"

"Yes."

"You sigh?--you, Henri, comte de Bouchage?--you, the brother of
Joyeuse?--you, whom some people call the third king in France? You know
M. de Guise is the second, if not the first; but you, rich and handsome,
who will be peer and duke on the first occasion, are in love, and you
sigh!--you, whose device is 'hilariter.'"

"My dear Anne, I have never reckoned the gifts of fortune, past and to
come, as things to constitute happiness; I have no ambitions."

"That is to say, you have not at present."

"At all events, not for the things you speak of."

"Not just now, perhaps, but later you will return to them."

"Never, brother; I desire nothing--I want nothing."