Page:Victor Hugo's Works (Guernsey Edition) v14.djvu/89

Rh Let me go hence, I say! I have a father

Who'll make you terribly aby this wrong,

Lord as you are!

Your father! By the Mass!

She makes me laugh! Your father, girl! Bertuccio!

That I should learn my father's name from him!

Yes, Duke, my father!

Why, he is my slave,—

A thing that crouches to me like my hound,

To beg for food or deprecate the lash,—

My butt,—my whipping-block,—my fool in motley!

It is not true! This is a lie, like all

That you have said. Let me go forth, I say!

You 're in my palace. Here are none but those

To whom my will is law; your calls for help

Will only bring more force,—if I could stoop

To use force with a lady—

Then you have

Some manhood in you. Look, sir, at us two.

You are a duke, you say,—your power but bounded

By your own will. I am a poor weak girl,

E'en weaker than I knew, if what you say

Touching my father be the truth. What honour

Is to be won on me? Yet, won it may be,