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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of L'Aiglon, by Edmond Rostand
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: L'Aiglon
+
+Author: Edmond Rostand
+
+Translator: Louis N. Parker
+
+Release Date: September 17, 2009 [EBook #30012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK L'AIGLON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was
+produced from scanned images of public domain material
+from the Google Print project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+L'AIGLON
+
+_A PLAY IN SIX ACTS_
+
+BY
+EDMOND ROSTAND
+
+TRANSLATED BY
+
+LOUIS N. PARKER
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+
+FRANKLIN SQUARE, NEW YORK
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Copyright 1900
+By Robert Howard Russell
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY
+
+The cast as presented by Maude
+Adams at the Knickerbocker
+Theatre, New York, October, 1900
+
+
+THE DUKE OF REICHSTADT, _son of Napoleon I. and
+the Archduchess Maria Louisa of Austria_ MAUDE ADAMS
+
+FLAMBEAU, _a veteran_ J. H. GILMOUR
+
+PRINCE METTERNICH, _Chancellor of Austria_ EDWIN ARDEN
+
+COUNT PROKESCH PERCY LYNDALL
+
+BARON FRIEDRICH VON GENTZ EUGENE JEPSON
+
+THE ATTACHÉ OF THE FRENCH EMBASSY
+_at the Austrian Court_ OSWALD YORK
+
+THE TAILOR, _a conspirator_ WILLIAM LEWERS
+
+COUNT MAURICE DIETRICHSTEIN EDWARD LESTER
+
+BARON VON OBENAUS R. PEYTON CARTER
+
+THE EMPEROR FRANCIS OF AUSTRIA JOS. FRANCOEUR
+
+MARSHAL MARMONT, _Duke of Ragusa_ J. H. BENRIMO
+
+COUNT SEDLINZKY,
+_Prefect of the Austrian Police_ WILLIAM CROSBY
+
+THE MARQUIS OF BOMBELLES,
+_betrothed to Maria Louisa_ CLAYTON LEGGE
+
+TIBURTIUS DE LOGET WILLIAM IRVING
+
+LORD COWLEY,
+_English Ambassador at the Austrian Court_ RIENZI DE CORDOVA
+
+COUNT SANDOR EDWARD JACOBS
+
+DOCTOR MALFATTI H. D. JAMES
+
+GENERAL HARTMANN HERBERT CARR
+
+CAPTAIN FORESTI JOHN S. ROBERTSON
+
+AN AUSTRIAN SERGEANT LLOYD CARLETON
+
+A COUNTRY DOCTOR FREDERICK SPENCER
+
+HIS SON BYRON ONGLEY
+
+THALBERG B. B. BELCHER
+
+MONTENEGRO MORTON H. WELDON
+
+THE CHAMBERLAIN CHARLES MARTIN
+
+AN OFFICER OF THE NOBLE GUARD,
+_the Emperor of Austria's Bodyguard_ HENRY P. DAVIS
+
+THE MARQUIS OF OTRANTO, _son of Fouche_ CHARLES HENDERSON
+
+GOUBEAUX) (DON C. MERRIFIELD
+PIONNET ) _Bonapartist_ (HENRY CLARKE
+MORCHAIN) _conspirators_ (THOMAS H. ELWOOD
+GUIBERT ) (GEORGE KLEIN
+BOROWSKI) (FRANK GOODMAN
+
+FIRST POLICE OFFICER RALPH YOERG
+
+FIRST ARCHDUKE, _a child_ WALTER BUTTERWORTH
+
+SECOND ARCHDUKE, _a child_ JOHN LEEMAN
+
+MARIA LOUISA,
+_second wife of Napoleon I.,
+widow of Count Neipperg_ IDA WATERMAN
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS SOPHIA OF AUSTRIA SARAH CONVERSE
+
+THERESA DE LOGET,
+_sister of Tiburtius de Loget_ ELLIE COLLMER
+
+THE COUNTESS NAPOLEONE CAMERATA,
+_daughter of Napoleon's sister,
+Elisa Baciocchi_ SARAH PERRY
+
+FANNY ELSSLER MARGARET GORDON
+
+SCARAMPI, _Mistress of the Robes_ FRANCIS COMSTOCK
+
+MINA, _a maid-of-honor_ EDITH SCOTT
+
+AN ARCHDUCHESS, _a child_ BEATRICE MORRISON
+
+_Princes_, _Princesses_, _Archdukes_, _Archduchesses_, _Maids-of-Honor_,
+_Officers_, _Noble Guard_, _Masks (Male and Female)_, _Crotian
+Peasants_, _Hungarian Peasant_, _Austrian Soldiers_, _Police Officers_.
+
+_The period covered by the play is from 1830 to 1832._
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration: THE DUKE OF REICHSTADT
+
+FROM THE PAINTING BY SIR THOMAS LAWRENCE]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE FIRST ACT
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+L'AIGLON
+
+THE FIRST ACT
+
+_At Baden, near Vienna, in 1830._
+
+_The drawing-room of the villa occupied by_ MARIA LOUISA. _The walls are
+painted al fresco in bright colors. The frieze is decorated with a
+design of sphinxes._
+
+_At the back, between two other windows, a window reaching to the ground
+and forming the entrance from the garden. Beyond, the balustrade of the
+terrace leading into the garden; a glimpse of lindens and pine-trees. A
+magnificent day in the beginning of September. Empire furniture of
+lemonwood decorated with bronze. A large china stove in the centre of
+the wall on the left. In front of it a door. On the right, two doors.
+The first leads to the apartments of_ MARIA LOUISA. _In front of the
+window on the left at the back an Erard piano of the period, and a harp.
+A big table on the right, and against the right wall a small table with
+shelves filled with books. On the left, facing the audience, a Récamier
+couch, and a large stand for candlesticks. A great many flowers in
+vases. Framed engravings on the walls representing the members of the
+Imperial Family of Austria. A portrait of the Emperor Francis._
+
+_At the rise of the curtain a group of elegant ladies is discovered at
+the further end of the room. Two of them are seated at the piano, with
+their backs to the audience, playing a duet. Another is at the harp.
+They are playing at sight, amid much laughter and many interruptions. A
+lackey ushers in a modestly dressed young girl who is accompanied by an
+officer of the Austrian Cavalry. Seeing that no one notices their
+entrance, these two remain standing a moment in a corner. The_ COUNT DE
+BOMBELLES _comes in from the door on the right and goes toward the
+piano. He sees the young girl, and stops, with a smile._
+
+
+THE LADIES.
+
+[_Surrounding the piano, laughing, and all talking at
+the same time._]
+
+She misses all the flats!--It's scandalous!--
+I'll take the bass!--Loud pedal!--One! Two!--Harp!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+What! You!
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Good-day, my Lord Bombelles!
+
+A LADY.
+
+[_At the piano._]
+ _Mi, sol._
+
+THERESA.
+
+I enter on my readership--
+
+ANOTHER LADY.
+
+[_At the piano._]
+ The flats!
+
+THERESA.
+
+It's thanks to you.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ My dear Theresa! Nothing!
+You are my relative, and you are French.
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_Presenting the officer._]
+
+Tiburtius--
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Ah, your brother!
+
+ [_He gives him his hand and pushes forward a
+ chair for_ THERESA.]
+
+ Take a seat.
+
+THERESA.
+
+I'm very nervous.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+[_With a smile._]
+ Heavens! What about?
+
+THERESA.
+
+To venture near the persons of the two
+The Emperor left!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Oh, is that all, my child?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+Our people hated Bonaparte of old--
+
+THERESA.
+
+Yes--but to see--
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ His widow?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ And perhaps
+His son?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Assuredly.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Why, it would mean
+I'd never thought or read, and was not French,
+Nor born in recent years, if I could stand
+Unmoved so near them. Is she lovely?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Who?
+
+THERESA.
+
+Her Majesty of Parma?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Why--
+
+THERESA.
+
+ She's sad
+And that itself is beauty.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ But I'm puzzled.
+Surely you've seen her?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ No.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ We've just come in.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+Yes, but--
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ We feared we might disturb these ladies
+Whose laughter sings new gamuts to the piano.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Here in my corner I await her notice.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+What? Why, it's she who's playing bass this moment!
+
+THERESA.
+
+The Emp--?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ I'll go and tell her.
+
+ [_He goes to the piano and whispers to one of the
+ ladies who are playing._]
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_Turning._]
+ Ah! this child--
+Quite a pathetic story--yes--you told me:
+A brother--
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Father exiled. Son an exile.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+The Austrian uniform is to my taste;
+And then there's fox-hunting, which I adore.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+So that's the rascal whose extravagance
+Eats up your little fortune?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Oh!--my brother--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+The wretch has ruined you, but you forgive him!
+Theresa de Loget, I think you're charming!
+
+ [_She takes_ THERESA _by both hands and makes her
+ sit beside her on the couch._]
+
+ [BOMBELLES and TIBURTIUS _retire to the back._]
+
+Now you're among my ladies. I may boast
+I'm not unpleasant; rather sad at times
+Since--
+
+THERESA.
+
+ I am grieved beyond the power of words.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Yes, to be sure. It was a grievous loss.
+That lovely soul was little known!
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Oh, surely!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_Turning to_ BOMBELLES.]
+
+I've just been writing; they're to keep his horse--
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+Since the dear General's death--
+
+THERESA.
+
+ The--General's?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+He'd kept that title.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Ah, I understand!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+I weep.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ That title was his greatest glory.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+One cannot know at first all one has lost;
+And I lost all when General Neipperg died.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Neipperg?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ I came to Baden for distraction.
+It's nice. So near Vienna.--Ah, my dear,
+My nerves are troublesome; they say I'm thinner--
+And growing very like Madame de Berry.
+'Twas Vitrolles said so. Now I do my hair
+Like her. Why did not Heaven take me too?
+This villa's small, of course; but 'tisn't bad;
+Metternich is our guest in passing.
+
+ [_She points to the door on the left._]
+
+ There.
+He leaves to-night. The life at Baden's gay.
+We have the Sandors and the pianist Thalberg,
+And Montenegro sings to us in Spanish.
+Fontana howls an air from _Figaro_.
+The wife of the Ambassador of England
+And the Archduchess come; we go for drives--
+But nothing soothes my grief!--Ah, could the General--!
+Of course you're coming to the ball to-night?
+
+THERESA.
+
+Why--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ At the Meyendorffs'. Strauss will be there.
+She must be present, mustn't she, Bombelles?
+
+THERESA.
+
+May I solicit of your Majesty
+News of the Duke of Reichstadt?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ In good health.
+He coughs a little; but the air of Baden
+Is good for him. He's quite a man. He's reached
+The critical hour of entrance in the world!
+Oh dear! when I consider he's already
+Lieutenant-Colonel! Think how grieved I am
+Never to have seen him in his uniform!
+
+ [_Enter the_ DOCTOR _and his son, bringing a box._
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Ah! These must be for him!
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+ Yes; the collections.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Please put them down.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ What are they?
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+ Butterflies.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Butterflies?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Yes; when I was visiting
+This amiable old man, the local doctor,
+I saw his boy arranging these collections.
+I sighed aloud, Alas! would but my son,
+Whom nothing moves, take interest in these!
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+So then I answered, Well, your Majesty,
+One never knows. Why not? We can but try;
+I'll bring my butterflies!
+
+THERESA.
+
+ His butterflies!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Could he but leave his solitary musings
+To occupy his mind with--
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+ Lepidoptera.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Leave them; come back; he's out at present.
+[_To_ THERESA.] You
+Come, I'll present you to Scarampi. She's
+The Mistress of the Robes.
+
+ [_She sees_ METTERNICH, _who enters L._]
+
+ Ah, Metternich!
+Dear Prince, we leave you the saloon.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Indeed,
+I had to come here to receive the Envoy--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+I know--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Of General Belliard, French Ambassador;
+And Councillor Gentz, and several Estafets.
+With your permission--
+[_To a lackey._] First, Baron von Gentz.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+The room is yours.
+
+ [_She goes out with_ THERESA. TIBURTIUS _and_
+ BOMBELLES _follow her_. GENTZ _enters_.]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Good-morning, Gentz. You know
+The Emperor recalls me to Vienna?
+I'm going back to-day.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Ah?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Yes; it's tiresome--
+The town in summer!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Empty as my pocket.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Oh, come now! No offence, you know, but--eh?
+Surely the Russian Government has--
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ _Me!_
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Be frank. Who's bought you? Eh?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Munching sweetmeats._]
+ The highest bidder.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Where does the money go?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Smelling at a scent-bottle he has taken out of his
+pocket._]
+
+ In riotous living.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Good Heavens! And you're considered my right hand!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Let not your left know what your right receives.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Sweetmeats and perfumes! Oh!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Why, yes, of course.
+I've money; I love sweets and perfumes. Yes,
+I'm a depraved old baby.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Affectation!
+Mere pose of self-contempt.
+[_Suddenly._] And Fanny?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Elssler? Won't love me. I'm ridiculous
+From every point of view. She loves the Duke.
+I'm but a screen; but I'm content to suffer
+When I remember how it serves the state
+If he's amused. And so I play the fool,
+And dance attendance on the little dancer.
+She bade me bring her here this very night,
+Just to surprise the Duke.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ You scandalize me.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+His mother's going out. There's dancing.
+
+ [_He hands_ METTERNICH _a letter which he has
+ taken out of a pocket-book_.]
+
+ Read--
+From Fouché's son.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Reading the letter._] August the twentieth,
+Eighteen hundred and thirty--
+
+GENTZ.
+
+He'd transform--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Good Viscount of Otranto!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Our Duke of Reichstadt to Napoleon Two.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Handing back the letter._]
+
+A list of partisans?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Yes.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Make a note.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Do we refuse?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Without destroying hope.
+Ah, but my little Colonel serves me well
+To keep these Frenchmen straight. When they forget
+Their Metternich, and lean too much to the left,
+I let him show his nose out of his box, and--crack!--
+When they come right, I pop him in again!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+When can one see the springs work?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Now.
+
+ [_Enter the French_ ATTACHÉ.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ The Envoy
+Of General Belliard. Welcome, sir.
+[_Hands him papers._] The papers.
+We accept in principle King Louis Philip;
+But don't let's have too much of '99,
+Or we might crack a little egg-shell!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Sir,
+Are you alluding to Prince Francis Charles?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+The Duke of Reichstadt? Oh, sir, as for me,
+I don't admit his father reigned.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+[_Generously._]
+ I do.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+So I'll do nothing for the Duke. Yet--
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Yet?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Yet, should you give too loose a reign to freedom,
+Permit yourself the slightest propaganda,
+Let Monsieur Royer-Collard come too often
+And bare his bosom to your king; in short,
+If your new kingdom's too republican,
+We might--our temper's not angelical--
+We might remember Francis is our grandson.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+Our lilies never shall turn red.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ And while
+They keep their whiteness bees shall not approach them.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+'Tis feared in spite of you the Duke may hope.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+No.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Things are happening.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ But we filter them.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+Doesn't he know that France has changed her king?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Yes; but the detail he does not yet know
+Is that his father's flag, the tricolor,
+Is re-established. 'Twill be time enough--
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+He would be drunk with hope!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ We'll keep him sober.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+He's not so strictly guarded here at Baden.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Oh, here there's nought to fear. He's with his mother.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+Well, sir?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ What spy could have such interest
+In watching him? For any plot would trouble
+Her lovely calm.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Is not that calmness feigned?
+She cannot have a thought but for her eaglet!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ [_Entering hurriedly._
+
+My parrot!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+[_Starting._]
+
+ Eh?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_To_ METTERNICH.]
+
+ Margharitina's flown!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Oh!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ My parrot, Margharitina!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+ There, sir!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+[_To_ MARIA LOUISA.]
+
+May I not seek it, Highness?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_Curtly._]
+ No. [_She goes out._
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+[_To_ METTERNICH.]
+
+ What's wrong?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+We say, Your Majesty; you called her Highness.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+But if we don't allow the Emperor reigned
+She cannot be addressed as Majesty
+Except as Parma's Duchess--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ That's her title.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+Then that was why she looked such daggers at me!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Question of protocols and of precedence.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+[_Preparing to take his leave._]
+
+May the French Embassy from this day forward
+Display the tricolor cockade?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_With a sigh._] Of course,
+Since we're agreed--
+
+ [_Seeing the_ ATTACHÉ _silently throw away the
+ white cockade which was on his hat and replace
+ it with a tricolor which he takes out of his
+ pocket._]
+
+ Come, come! You lose no time!
+
+[_Noise of harness-bells without._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+What is it now?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Who is on the terrace._]
+
+ The guests of the Archduke.
+The Meyendorffs, Lord Cowley, Thalberg--
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ [_Who has quickly come in R. at the sound of the
+ bells, followed by_ TIBURTIUS.]
+
+ Meet them!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ [_Appearing on the threshold surrounded by a
+ crowd of lords and ladies in elegant summer
+ costumes. (Light dresses and parasols; large
+ hats.) Two little boys and a little girl dressed in the
+ latest fashion._]
+
+'Tis but a villa; not a palace.
+
+ [_The room is crowded. She turns to a young
+ man._]
+
+ Quick!
+Thalberg, my Tarantelle!
+
+ [THALBERG _sits at the piano and plays._]
+
+[_To_ METTERNICH.] Where is her Majesty,
+
+My lovely sister?
+
+A LADY.
+
+ We looked in to fetch her.
+
+ANOTHER LADY.
+
+We're rushing through the valley on a coach.
+Sandor is driving.
+
+A MAN'S VOICE.
+
+ We must thrust the lava
+Back in its crater!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Oh! do hold your tongues
+They will insist on talking of volcanoes.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+What's this volcano?
+
+A LADY.
+
+[_To another._]
+
+ Astrachan this winter.
+
+SANDOR.
+
+[_To_ BOMBELLES.]
+
+Why, liberal opinions.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Ah!
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+ Or, rather, France!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+You hear him?
+
+A LADY.
+
+[_To a young man._]
+
+ Montenegro, sing to me
+Under your breath, for me alone.
+
+MONTENEGRO.
+
+[_Whom_ THALBERG _accompanies, sings very softly._]
+
+ Corazon--
+
+[_He continues, pianissimo._]
+
+ANOTHER LADY.
+
+[_To_ GENTZ.]
+
+Ah, Gentz!
+
+ [_She dips into her reticule._]
+
+ Some bon-bons, Gentz?
+
+ [_She gives him some._]
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ You are an angel.
+
+ANOTHER LADY.
+
+[_Similar business._]
+
+Perfume from Paris?
+
+ [_She takes out a little bottle of scent and gives it to him._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Hurriedly to_ GENTZ.]
+
+ Tear the label off!
+"The Reichstadt scent"!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Smelling perfume._]
+
+ It smells of violets.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ [_Snatches the bottle out of his hand and scrapes
+ the label off with a pair of scissors he takes from
+ the table._]
+
+If the Duke came he'd see that still at Paris--
+
+A VOICE.
+
+[_Among the group at the back of the stage._]
+
+The Hydra lifts its head--
+
+A LADY.
+
+ Our husbands talk
+Of Hydras!
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+ And it must be stifled.
+
+A LADY.
+
+ Yes;
+Volcanoes first, then hydras.
+
+A MAID OF HONOR OF MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ [_Followed by a servant bringing a tray with large
+ glasses of iced coffee._]
+
+ _Eis-Kaffee?_
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_Seated; to a young lady._]
+
+Recite some verses, Olga.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ May we have
+Something of Heine's?
+
+SEVERAL VOICES.
+
+ Yes!
+
+OLGA.
+
+[_Rising._]
+ The Grenadiers?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Quickly._]
+
+Oh! No!
+
+SCARAMPI.
+
+[_Coming out of_ MARIA LOUISA'S _apartment._]
+
+ Her Majesty is on her way!
+
+ALL.
+
+Scarampi!
+
+SANDOR.
+
+ We'll drive out to Krainerhütten,
+The ladies there can rest upon the green.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To_ GENTZ.]
+
+What are you reading yonder?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ The "Debats."
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+The politics?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ The Theatres.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ How futile!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Guess what they're playing at the Vaudeville.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Well?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ "Bonaparte."
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_With indifference._]
+
+ Oh?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ The Nouveautés?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Well?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ "Bonaparte." And the Variétés?
+"Napoleon." The Luxembourg announces
+"Fourteen years of his life." At the Gymnase
+They are reviving the "Return from Russia."
+What is the Gaiety to play this season?
+"Napoleon's Coachman" and "La Malmaison."
+An unknown author's done "Saint Helena."
+The Porte-Saint-Martin's going to produce
+"Napoleon."
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+ It's the fashion.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ It's the rage.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+The Ambigu "Murat;" the Cirque "The Emperor."
+
+SANDOR.
+
+A fashion.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Yes, a fashion.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Yes, a fashion
+Which will recur from time to time in France.
+
+A LADY.
+
+ [_Reading the paper over_ GENTZ'S _shoulder through
+ a long-handled eye-glass._]
+
+They want to bring his ashes home.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ The Phoenix
+May rise again, but not the eagle.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ What
+An unknown quantity is France!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Oh, no;
+I've gauged it.
+
+A LADY.
+
+ Well, then, mighty prophet, speak!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+His words are graven in bronze.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Or, maybe, zinc.
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+Who will be France's Saviour?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Henry the Fifth.
+The others--Fashion.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ That's a useful name
+For calling glory by at times.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ So long
+As all the shouting's only done in theatres,
+I think there's no--
+
+CRIES.
+
+[_Without._]
+
+ Long live Napoleon!
+
+ALL.
+
+What?--Here, at Baden!--Here!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Ridiculous!
+Pray, have no fear!
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+ We must not lose our heads
+Because a name is shouted.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ He is dead.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+[_On the terrace._]
+
+It's nothing.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Yes, but what?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ An Austrian soldier.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Austrian?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ Two of them. I saw them.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Vexing!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_Entering hurriedly and pale with fear from her room._]
+
+Did you not hear the shout? Oh, horrible!
+It brought to mind--One day the people surged
+About my coach in Parma with that cry!
+It's done to vex me!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ What could it have meant?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+Two of the Duke of Reichstadt's regiment
+Caught sight of him as he was riding homeward.
+You know the deep ditch bordering the road?
+His Highness wished to leap it, but his horse
+Shied, swerved, and backed. The Duke sat firm,
+And brought him to it again, and--over! Then
+The men, to applaud him, shouted. And that's all.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To a lackey._]
+
+Fetch one of them at once!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ They seek my death!
+
+[_An Austrian sergeant is brought in._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+A sergeant! Now, my man, speak up. What meant
+That shouting?
+
+THE SERGEANT.
+
+ I don't know.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ What! You don't know?
+
+THE SERGEANT.
+
+No; nor downstairs the corporal don't know neither.
+He shouted with me. It was good to see
+The Prince so young and slender on his horse.
+And then we're proud of having for our Colonel
+The son of--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ That'll do.
+
+THE SERGEANT.
+
+ He took the ditch
+So cool and calm! As pretty as a picture!
+So then a sort of lump came in our throats,
+Pride and affection--I don't know--we shouted
+"Long live--!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Enough, enough! It's just as easy
+To shout "Long live the Duke of Reichstadt," idiot!
+
+THE SERGEANT.
+
+Well--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ What?
+
+THE SERGEANT.
+
+ "Long live the Duke of Reichstadt"
+Isn't so easy as "Long live--"
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Be off.
+Don't shout at all!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+[_To the_ SERGEANT _as he passes him to go out._]
+
+ You fool!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_To the ladies who surround her._]
+
+ I'm better, thank you.
+
+THERESA.
+
+The Empress!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_To_ DIETRICHSTEIN, _pointing to_ THERESA.]
+
+ Baron Dietrichstein, this is
+My new companion-reader.
+
+[_To_ THERESA, _presenting_ DIETRICHSTEIN.]
+
+ My son's tutor.
+And, by the way, I've never thought of asking--
+Do you read well?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ Oh, very!
+
+THERESA.
+
+ I don't know.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Take one of Franz's books from yonder table,
+Open it anywhere.
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_Taking a book and reading the title._]
+
+ "Andromache"--
+
+[_She reads._]
+
+"What is this fear, my lord, which strikes the heart?
+Has any Trojan hero slipped his chains?
+Their hate of Hector is not yet appeased:
+They dread his son! fit object of their dread!
+A hapless child, who is not yet aware
+His master's Pyrrhus and his father Hector."
+
+ [_General embarrassment._]
+
+I--
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Charming voice.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Select another passage.
+
+THERESA.
+
+"Alas the day, when, prompted by his valor,
+To seek Achilles and to meet his doom,
+He called his son and wrapped him to his heart:
+'Dear wife,' quoth he, and brushed away a tear,
+'I know not what the fates may have in store.
+I leave my son to thee--'"
+
+ [_General embarrassment._]
+
+ H'm--yes--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Let's try
+Some other volume. Take--
+
+THERESA.
+
+ The "Meditations"?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+I know the author! 'Twill not be so dull.
+He dined with us. [_To_ SCARAMPI.] The Diplomat,
+ you know.
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_Reads._]
+
+"Never had hymns more strenuous and high
+From seraph lips rung through the listening sky:
+Courage! Oh, fallen child of godlike race--"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Who has entered unnoticed._]
+
+Forgive the interruption, Lamartine!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Well, Franz? A pleasant ride?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Delightful, mother.
+But, Mademoiselle, where did my entrance stop you?
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_Looking at him with emotion._]
+
+"Courage! Oh, fallen child of godlike race,
+The glory of your birth is in your face!
+All men who look on you--"
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ That's quite sufficient.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_To the children._]
+
+Go, bid good morrow to your cousin.
+
+ [_The children run up to the_ DUKE, _who is seated,
+ and surround him._]
+
+SCARAMPI.
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+ Fie!
+
+THERESA.
+
+Why, what?
+
+A LADY.
+
+[_Looking at the_ DUKE.]
+
+ How pale he is!
+
+ANOTHER LADY.
+
+ He looks half dead!
+
+SCARAMPI.
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+You chose such awkward passages.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ The book
+Fell open by itself. I did not choose.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Who has overheard._]
+
+Books always open where most often read.
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_Looking at the_ DUKE.]
+
+Archdukes upon his knees!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_Leaning over the back of the_ DUKE'S _chair._]
+
+ I am delighted
+To see you, Franz. I am your friend.
+
+[_She holds out her hand to him._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Kissing her hand._]
+
+ I know it.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+What do you think of him? I say he's like
+A cherub who had secretly read "Werther."
+
+THE LITTLE GIRL.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+How nice your collar is!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Your Highness flatters.
+
+THERESA.
+
+His collars!
+
+THE LITTLE BOY.
+
+ No one has such sticks!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No. No one.
+
+THERESA.
+
+His sticks!
+
+THE OTHER LITTLE BOY.
+
+ Oh! and your gloves!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Superb, my dear.
+
+THE LITTLE GIRL.
+
+What is your waistcoat made of?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ That's cashmere.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Oh!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ And you wear your nosegay--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Latest fashion:
+In the third buttonhole. So glad you noticed.
+
+ [_At this moment_ THERESA _bursts into sobs._]
+
+THE LADIES.
+
+Eh? What's the matter?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Nothing. I don't know.
+Forgive me. I'm alone here--far from friends.
+Oh, it was silly!--suddenly--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Poor dear!
+
+THERESA.
+
+I held my heart in--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Tears will do you good.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What's this I trod on? Why, a white cockade!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+H'm!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+ Yours, no doubt, sir. Favor me: your hat.
+
+[_The_ ATTACHÉ _gives him his hat unwillingly._
+_The_ DUKE _sees the tricolor cockade._]
+
+Ah!
+
+[_To_ METTERNICH.]
+
+ I was not aware--but then--the flag?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Highness--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Is that changed, too?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ A trivial detail.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Nothing.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Question of color--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Of a shade.
+See for yourself. Looked at in certain lights,
+I really think this is the more effective. [_He moves
+a few steps._]
+
+ [_His mother takes him by the arm and leads him
+ to the butterfly-cases, which the_ DOCTOR, _who
+ has come back, has spread out._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Butterflies?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ You admire the black one?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Charming.
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+The plants it loves are umbelliferous.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It seems to see me with its wings.
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+ Those eyes?
+We call them lunulæ.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Indeed? I'm glad.
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+Are you examining the spotted grey?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No, sir.
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+ What then, my lord?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The pin that killed it.
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+[_To_ MARIA LOUISA.]
+
+No use.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_To_ SCARAMPI.]
+
+ We'll wait. I count on the effect--
+
+SCARAMPI.
+
+Ah, yes!--Of our surprise.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Who has approached the_ DUKE.]
+
+ A sweetmeat?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Taking one and tasting it._]
+
+ Perfect.
+A flavor of verbena and of pear,
+And something else--wait--yes--
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ It's not worth while--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What's not worth while?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ To feign an interest.
+I'm not so blind as Metternich.
+
+[_He offers him another sweetmeat._]
+
+ A chocolate?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What do you see?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ I see a youth who suffers,
+Rather than live a favored prince's life.
+Your soul is still alive, but here at court
+They'll lull it fast asleep with love and music.
+I had a soul once, like the rest of the world;
+But--! And I wither, decently obscene--
+Till some day, in the cause of liberty,
+One of those rash young fools of the University
+Amid my sweetmeats, perfumes, and dishonor
+Slays me as Kotzebue was slain by Sand.
+Yes, I'm afraid--do try a sugared raisin--
+That I shall perish at his hand.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You will.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+What?--How?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A youth will slay you.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ But--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+A youth of your acquaintance.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Sir--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ His name
+Is Frederick. 'Tis the youth you were yourself.
+For now he's risen again in you; and since
+He whispers in your ear like dull remorse,
+All's over with you: he will show no mercy.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+'Tis true, my youth cuts like a knife within me.
+Ah, well I knew that gaze had not deceived me!
+'Tis that of one who ponders upon Empire.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I do not understand, sir, what you mean.
+
+ [_He moves away._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To_ GENTZ.]
+
+You've had a chat with--?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Yes.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Delightful?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Very.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+He's in the hollow of my hand.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Entirely.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Stopping before_ THERESA.]
+
+Why did you weep?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Because, my Lord--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, no!
+I know. But do not weep.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Bowing to the_ DUKE.]
+
+ I take my leave.
+
+[_He goes out with the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ MARIA LOUISA _and_ DIETRICHSTEIN, _who are turning
+over some papers on his table._]
+
+Examining my work?
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ It's excellent.
+But why on purpose make mistakes in German?
+Pure mischief!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Oh! and at your age, mischief!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+How can I help it? I am not an eagle.
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+You still make France a noun of feminine gender.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I never know what's _der_ or _die_ or _das_.
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+In this case neuter is correct.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But mean.
+I don't much care about a neuter France.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_To_ THALBERG, _who is playing softly on the piano._]
+
+My son detests all music.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I detest it.
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+[_Coming toward the_ DUKE.]
+
+Highness--
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+[_Aside to the_ DUKE.]
+
+ A pleasant word.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Eh?
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ The English
+Ambassador.
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+ Where had you been just now
+When you came galloping and out of breath?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I? To Saint Helena.
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+ I beg your pardon?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+A wholesome, leafy nook. So gay!--At evening
+Delightful. I should like to see you there.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Hastily to the_ AMBASSADOR, _while the_ DUKE _moves
+away._]
+
+They call the village in the Helenenthal
+Saint Helena. A fashionable stroll.
+
+LORD COWLEY.
+
+Ah, really? I was almost wondering
+Whether he meant it as a hit--?
+[_He turns away._]
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Lifting his hands in amazement at_ LORD COWLEY'S
+_dulness._]
+
+ These English!
+
+VOICES.
+
+We're off!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_To_ MARIA LOUISA.]
+
+ Louisa?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ No, I stay at home.
+
+VOICES.
+
+The carriages.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+ And you, Franz?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ He hates nature.
+He even gallops through Saint Helena.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes! I gallop!
+
+ [_General leave-taking and gradual departure._
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ _So_ devoid of fancy!
+
+MONTENEGRO.
+
+[_Going._]
+
+I know a place for supper where the cider--
+
+CRIES.
+
+[_Without._]
+
+Good-bye! Good-bye!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_On the terrace._]
+
+ Don't talk about the hydra!
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_To_ TIBURTIUS.]
+
+Brother, good-bye!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ Good-by.
+
+[_He goes out with_ BOMBELLES.]
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_To the Maids of Honor, indicating_ THERESA.]
+
+ Show her her rooms.
+
+ [THERESA _goes out accompanied by the Maids of
+ Honor._ MARIA LOUISA _calls the Duke, who was
+ going toward the garden._]
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Franz!
+
+ [_He turns._]
+
+ Now I'm going to amuse you.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Really?
+
+ [SCARAMPI _carefully closes all the doors._]
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Hush!--I've conspired!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Mother! You!--Conspired!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Hush! They've forbidden whatever comes from France--
+But I have ordered secretly from Paris,
+From the best houses--Oh! my fop shall smile!--
+For you, a tailor,
+
+[_Pointing to_ SCARAMPI.]
+
+ and for us, a fitter.
+I really think the notion--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Exquisite!
+
+SCARAMPI.
+
+[_Opening the door of_ MARIA LOUISA'S _apartment._]
+
+Come in!
+
+[_Enter a young lady, dressed with the elegance of
+a milliner's dummy, and carrying two great
+card-board dress-boxes, and a young man
+dressed like a fashion plate, who also carries
+two big boxes._]
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+[_Coming down to the_ DUKE, _while the young lady unpacks
+the dresses on a sofa at the back._]
+
+ If you will favor me, my Lord--
+I've here some charming novelties. My clients
+Are good enough to trust my taste: I guide them.
+The neck-cloths first. A languid violet;
+A serious brown. Bandannas are much worn.
+I note with pleasure that your Highness knows
+The delicate art of building up a stock.
+Here's a check pattern makes an elegant knot.
+How does this waistcoat strike your Lordship's fancy,
+Down which meander wreaths of blossoms?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Hideous!
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Will these, I wonder, leave your Highness cold?
+Here's doeskin. Here a genuine Scottish tweed.
+Bottle-green riding-coat with narrow cuffs;
+Extremely gentlemanly. Here's a waistcoat:
+Six-buttoned. Three left open. Very tasty.
+Now, what about this blue frock-coat? We've rubbed
+The newness off artistically. Worn
+With salt and pepper trousers, what a picture!
+We'll throw aside this heavy yellow stuff--
+Can Hamlet wear the clumsy clouts of Falstaff?--
+We'll pass to mantles, Prince. A splendid plaid,
+Demi-collar with simili-sleeves behind.
+Eccentric? Granted.--This, called the _Roulière_:
+Sober, a large, Hidalgo-like effect;
+The very thing to woo a Doña Sol in.
+Excellent workmanship; a silver chain; the collar
+Of finest sable; made in our own workshops;
+Simple, but what a cut! The cut is everything.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+The Duke is weary of your chatter.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No.
+He sets me dreaming. I'm not used to it.
+For when my tailor from Vienna comes
+I never hear these bright, descriptive words;
+And so this wealth of curious adjectives
+And all that seems to you mere vulgar chatter,
+Has moved me--stirred me. Let him be, dear mother.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_Going to the fitter._]
+
+We'll look at ours. Shoulder of mutton sleeves?
+
+THE FITTER.
+
+Always.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+[_Displaying a pattern._]
+
+ This cloth is called Marengo.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What?
+Marengo?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Yes; it wears uncommon well.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+So I should think. Marengo lasts forever.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Your Highness orders--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I have need of nothing.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+One always needs a perfect-fitting coat.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I might invent--
+
+THE TAILOR..
+
+ To suit your personal taste?
+O client, soar to fancy's wildest heights!
+Speak! We will follow! That's our special line;
+Why, we are Monsieur Théophile Gautier's tailors.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Let's see--
+
+THE FITTER.
+
+ A Panama with muslin trimmings--
+That's not the sort of hat for everybody.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Could you make--
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Anything.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A--
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ What you choose!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+A coat?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Assuredly.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Of broadcloth. Yes
+But now the texture? Simple?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Certainly.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And then the color. What do you say to green?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Green's capital.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A little coat of green.
+With glimpses of the waistcoat?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Coat wide open!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Then, to give color when the wearer moves,
+The skirts are lined with scarlet.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Scarlet!
+Oh, ravishing.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Well, but about the waistcoat.
+How do you see the waistcoat?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Shall we say--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The waistcoat's white.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ What taste!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And then I think
+Knee breeches.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Ah!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Any color?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No.
+I rather think I see them white cashmere.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Well, after all, white is the more becoming.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The buttons are engraved.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ That's not good style.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes; something--nothing--merely little eagles.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Eagles!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Well? What are you afraid of, sir?
+And wherefore does your hand shake, master tailor?
+What is there strange about the suit of clothes?
+Do you no longer boast your skill to make it?
+
+THE FITTER.
+
+Coalscuttle bonnet neatly trimmed with poppies.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Take home your latest fashions and your patterns;
+That little suit's the only one I want.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+But I--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ 'Tis well. Begone, and be discreet.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Yet--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ 'Twould not fit me.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ It would fit you.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What!
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+It would fit you well.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You're very bold, sir!
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+And I'm empowered to take your order for it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah!
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Yes!
+
+THE FITTER.
+
+ A flowing cloak of China crape;
+Embroidered lining with enormous sleeves.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Indeed?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ Yes, Highness.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A conspirator?
+Now I no longer wonder you cite Shakespeare!
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+The little coat of green holds in its thrall
+Deputies, schools, a Peer, and a Field Marshal.
+
+THE FITTER.
+
+Spencer of figured muslin. Satin skirt.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+We can arrange your flight.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Should I agree
+I must beforehand--ay, and there's the rub--
+Consult my friend Prince Metternich.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ You'll trust us
+When you are told our leader is your cousin
+The Countess Camerata.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, I know!
+The daughter of Elisa Baciocchi.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+The strange, unarmored amazon, who bears
+Her father's likeness proudly in her face,
+Seeks dangers, rides unbroken horses, fences--
+
+THE FITTER.
+
+A little sleeveless gown of lightest muslin.
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+And when you know it's this Penthesilea--
+
+THE FITTER.
+
+The collar's only pinned, the shoulders basted--
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Who heads the plot I spoke of--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Give me proof!
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+Turn round, your Highness; glance at the young person
+Who on her knees unpacks the clothes.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ 'Tis she!
+Not long ago I met her in Vienna,
+Wrapped in a cloak. She swiftly kissed my hand
+And fled, exclaiming, Haven't I the right
+To greet the Emperor's son who is my master?
+She is a Bonaparte! We are alike!--
+Ay, but her hair is dark; not fair like mine.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+We'll try them on in there. Come, follow me.
+Only Parisians, Franz, know how to fit us.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes, mother.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Don't you love Parisian taste?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It's very true they dress you well in Paris.
+
+[MARIA LOUISA, SCARAMPI, _and the_ FITTER _go
+into_ MARIA LOUISA'S _apartment with the things
+they are to try on._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Now! Who are you, sir?
+
+THE TAILOR.
+
+ I? A nameless atom.
+Weary of life in mean and paltry times,
+Of smoking pipes and dreaming of ideals.
+Who am I? How do I know? That's my trouble.
+Am I at all?--It's very hard to "be."
+I study Victor Hugo; spout his odes--
+I tell you this, because this sort of thing
+Is all contemporary youth. I spend
+Extravagant fortunes in acquiring boredom.
+I am an artist, Highness, and Young France.
+Also I'm carbonaro at your service.
+And as I'm always bored I wear red waistcoats,
+And that amuses me. At tying neck-cloths
+I once was very good indeed. That's why
+They sent me here to-day to play the tailor.
+I'll add, to make the picture quite complete,
+That I'm a liberal and a king-devourer.
+My life and dagger are at your command.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I like you, sir, although your talk is crazy.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+You must not judge me by my whirling words;
+The itch of notoriety consumes me,
+But the disease beneath is very real,
+And makes me seek forgetfulness in danger.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Disease?
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ A shuddering disgust.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Your soul
+Heavy with foiled ambitions?
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ Dull disquiet--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Morbid enjoyment of our sufferings,
+And pride in showing off our pallid brows?
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Contempt for those who live content?
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And doubt?
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ In what mysterious volume
+Has one so young learnt all the human heart?
+For that is what I feel.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Give me your hand!
+For, as a sapling, friend, which is transplanted,
+Feels all the forest in its ignorant veins,
+And suffers when its distant mates are hurt,
+So I, who knew you not, here, all alone,
+Felt the distemper stirring in my blood
+Which at this moment blights the youth of France.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+Rather I think our malady is yours,
+For whence upon you falls this giant robe?
+Child, whom beforehand they have robbed of glory,
+Pale Prince, so pale against your sable suit,
+Why are you pale, my Prince?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I am his son.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+Well! Feeble, feverish, dreaming of the past,
+Like you rebellious, what is left to do?--
+We're all, to some extent, your father's sons.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You are his soldiers' sons: that's just as glorious.
+And 'tis no less redoubtable a burden;
+But it emboldens me, for I can say
+They're but the sons of heroes of the empire:
+They'll be content to take the Emperor's son!
+
+THE COUNTESS CAMERATA.
+
+[_Coming out of_ MARIA LOUISA'S _apartments._]
+
+The scarf!--Oh, hush! I'm doing such a trade!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Thank you!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ I only wish 'twere selling swords!
+That silly baby-talk will be my death.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Warlike, I know.
+
+A VOICE.
+
+[_Within._]
+
+ The scarf!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ I'm looking for it!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It seems this little hand can tame--
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ I love
+A fiery horse.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You're mistress of the foils?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+And of the sword!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ready for anything?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+[_Speaking toward the room._]
+
+Indeed, I'm looking for it everywhere.
+
+ [_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+Ready for anything for your Imperial Highness.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You're lion-hearted, Cousin!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ And my name
+Is glorious.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Which name?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Napoleone!
+
+SCARAMPI'S VOICE.
+
+[_Within._]
+
+Well? Can't you find it?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ No.
+
+A VOICE.
+
+ Look on the piano.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+I must be off. Discuss our great design.
+
+ [_With a cry, as if she had found what she was
+ looking for._]
+
+Ah! here it is!
+
+THE VOICE.
+
+ You've found it?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ On the harp.
+You understand, it's gathered up in folds--
+
+ [_She goes into_ MARIA LOUISA'S _room._]
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+Well? You accept?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I don't quite understand
+Zealous Imperialism from a liberal--
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+True: a republican--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You come to me
+Rather a long way round--
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ All roads to-day
+Lead to the King of Rome. My scarlet badge
+I thought unfading--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Faded in the sun?
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+Of Austerlitz! Yes! History makes us drunk.
+The battles which no more are fought, are told.
+The blood is vanished, but the glory gleams.
+So that to-day there is no he but _HE_!
+He never won such victories as now:
+His soldiers perished, but his poets live.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+In short--
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ In short the huckstering times; the god
+They exiled; you, your touching fate, our weariness,
+And everything--I said--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You said as artist
+'Twould be effective to be Bonapartist!
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+So you accept?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ What?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I listened well.
+And you were charming as you spoke, but nothing.
+No quiver of your voice, told me of France;
+You voiced a craze, a form of literature.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+I've carried out my mission clumsily;
+Could but the Countess yonder speak!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No use.
+I love the bravery glowing in her eyes,
+But that's not France: that is my Family!
+When next you seek me, later, by and by,
+Let the call come through some untutored voice,
+Wherein rough accents of the people throb;
+Your Byronism is much too like myself.
+You could not have persuaded me to-night--
+I feel myself unready for the crown.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+[_Coming out of_ MARIA LOUISA'S _apartment._]
+
+Unready? You?
+
+ [_She turns toward the room._]
+
+ Don't trouble; I'm just going.
+And for the ball the white one, not the mauve.
+
+ [_Coming hastily toward the_ DUKE.]
+
+Unready? What do you want?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A year of dreams,
+Of study.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Come and reign.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ My brain's not ripe.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+The crown's enough to ripen any brain.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The crown of light, shed by the midnight lamp.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+It's such a chance!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I beg your pardon? "Chance"?
+Is this the tailor reappearing?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Yet--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I will be honest in default of genius.
+I only ask three hundred wakeful nights.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+But this refusal will confirm the rumors.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+They say you've never really been of us.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+You are Young France: you're called Old Austria.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+They say your mind is being weakened.
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ Yes!
+They say you're cheated, even in your studies.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+They say you do not know your father's history.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Do they say that?
+
+THE YOUNG MAN.
+
+ What shall we answer them?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Answer them thus--
+
+ [_Enter_ DIETRICHSTEIN.]
+
+ Dear Count!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ 'Tis Obenaus.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah! for my history lesson! Let him come.
+
+ [DIETRICHSTEIN _goes out. The_ DUKE _points to
+ the clothes scattered about._]
+
+Spend as much time as possible in packing,
+And try to get forgotten in your corner.
+
+ [_Seeing_ DIETRICHSTEIN _come in with_ BARON VON
+ OBENAUS.]
+
+Good-day, dear Baron.
+
+ [_Carelessly to the_ YOUNG MAN _and the_ COUNTESS,
+ _pointing to the screen._]
+
+ Finish over there.
+
+ [_To_ OBENAUS.]
+
+My tailor.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Ah?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ My mother's fitter.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Yes?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Will they disturb you?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+[_Who has seated himself behind the table with_ DIETRICHSTEIN.]
+
+ Not at all, my Lord.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Who sits facing them, sharpening a pencil._]
+
+I'm all attention. Let me sharpen this
+To note a date, or jot down an idea.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+We'll take our work up where we last left off.
+Eighteen hundred and five, I think?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Busy with his pencil._] Exactly.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+In eighteen hundred and six--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Did no event
+Make that year memorable?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Which, my Lord?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Blowing the dust off the pencil._]
+
+Why, eighteen hundred and five.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ I beg your pardon,
+I thought you meant--h'm--Destiny
+Was cruel to the righteous cause. We'll cast
+Only a fleeting glance at hapless hours.
+When the philosopher with pensive gaze--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And so in eighteen five, sir, nothing happened?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+A great event, my Lord! I had forgotten.
+The restoration of the Calendar.
+A little later, having challenged England,
+Spain--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Demurely._]
+
+ And the Emperor?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Which Emp--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ My father.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+He--he--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Had he not left Boulogne?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Oh, yes.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Where was he, then?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Well, as it happened, here.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_With mock amazement._]
+
+Indeed?
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+[_Hastily._]
+
+ He took great interest in Bavaria!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+Your father's wishes in the Pressburg Treaty,
+As far as that went, chimed with those of Austria.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What was the Pressburg Treaty?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ The agreement
+Which closed an era.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ There! I've smashed my point!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+In eighteen hundred and seven--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ So soon? How quick!
+Strange epoch! Nothing happened in it!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Yes.
+For instance, take the House of the Braganzas:
+The King--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The Emperor, sir?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Which Emp--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Of France.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+Nothing of any consequence till eighteen-eight.
+Yet let us note the Treaty of Tilsit.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Was nothing done but making treaties?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Europe--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I see. A general survey?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ I'll come to details
+When we've--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Did nothing happen?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Well--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Well, what?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+I--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What? What happened? Won't you tell me?
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Well--
+I hardly know--you're in a merry humor--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You hardly know? Then, gentlemen, I'll tell you!
+The sixth October, eighteen-five--
+
+OBENAUS _and_ DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+[_Leaping to their feet._]
+
+ Eh? What?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+When he was least expected, when Vienna,
+Watching the Eagle hover ere he swooped,
+Sighed with relief, The blow is aimed at London!
+Having left Strassburg, crossed the Rhine at Kehl,
+The Emperor--
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Emperor!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes! and you know which!
+Marches through Würtemberg, marches through Baden--
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+Great Heavens!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Gives Austria a morning song,
+With drums by Soult, and trumpets by Murat!
+At Wertingen and Augsburg leaves his Marshals
+With here and there a victory to play with--
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Pursues with wonderful manoeuvres.
+Arrives at Ulm before he's changed his boots.
+Bids Ney take Elchingen, sits down and writes
+A joyous, terrible, and calm despatch.
+Prepares the assault:--the seventeenth October
+Sees seven thousand Austrians disarmed,
+And eighteen generals at the hero's feet;
+And then he starts again!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ November
+Finds him at Schönbrunn, sleeping in my bedroom.
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+But--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ He pursues! his foes are in his hand!
+One night he says "To-morrow!" and to-morrow
+Says, galloping along the bannered front--
+A spot of grey among his brilliant staff--
+"Soldiers, we'll finish with a thunderbolt!"
+The army is an ocean. He awaits
+The rising sun, and places with a smile
+This risen sun athwart his history!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+Oh, Dietrichstein!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ So there!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ Oh, Obenaus!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Terror and death! Two Emperors beaten by one!
+And twenty thousand prisoners!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ I beseech you!
+People might hear!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ When the campaign was over--
+The corpses floating on the freezing lake--
+My Grandsire seeks my Father in his camp!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ His _camp_!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Will nothing keep you quiet?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And so my Father grants my Grandsire peace!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+If any heard you!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And the conquered banners
+Distributed! Eight to the town of Paris--
+
+ [_The_ COUNTESS _and the_ YOUNG MAN _have gradually
+ come out, pale and excited, from behind the
+ screen. They listen to the_ DUKE _with increasing
+ emotion, and suddenly the boxes they are
+ carrying slip from their hands._]
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+[_Turning and seeing them._]
+
+Oh!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The Senate fifty!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ Look! The man and woman!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+Be off with you!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Fifty to Notre Dame!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And banners!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ Take your things!
+
+ [_He pushes them out._]
+
+Be off! Be off!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And banners! And still banners!
+
+ [THE COUNTESS _and_ THE YOUNG MAN _go._]
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+They heard it all!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And banners!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ What a business!
+My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I'm dumb!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ A little late, my Lord!
+What will Prince Metternich--? These people here!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Moreover, that's as far as I have got.
+My dear professor--
+
+ [_He coughs._]
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ Oh, you're coughing! Water!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I've made good progress with my history?
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+And yet no books come near you! That I'm sure of!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+When Metternich discovers--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You won't tell him!
+The blame would fall on you.
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ We'd best keep still,
+And ask his mother to expostulate.
+
+ [_He knocks at_ MARIA LOUISA'S _door._]
+
+The Duchess--?
+
+SCARAMPI.
+
+[_Appearing._]
+
+ She is ready. You may come.
+
+ [DIETRICHSTEIN _goes in._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Mockingly to_ OBENAUS.]
+
+Your course, _Ad usum_, sir, _Delphini_, sir,
+Is finished, sir!
+
+OBENAUS.
+
+ I can't think how you learnt--!
+
+ [MARIA LOUISA _comes in in great agitation, in a
+ superb ball-dress, and with her cloak on._ OBENAUS
+ _and_ DIETRICHSTEIN _go out quietly._]
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Oh Heavens! what is't again? What must I hear?
+Perhaps you will explain--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Showing her the open window._]
+
+ My mother, look,
+The day is hushed, but for belated birds.
+Oh, with what tenderness the gloaming fades!
+The trees--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ What, you! Can you feel nature's beauty?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Perhaps.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Perhaps you will explain--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, mother,
+Inhale the perfume. All the forest floats
+Into the chamber on its breath!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Explain!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+With every gust a branch is wafted in!
+A fairer miracle than that which scared
+Macbeth; the forest is not walking only,
+Not like a mad thing walking; lo! on wings
+The scented evening sets the forest flying!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+What! You can be poetical!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ At times.
+
+ [_Distant music is heard._]
+
+Listen! A waltz. An ordinary waltz;
+Yet distance gives it dignity. Who knows?
+Journeying through the woods the master haunted.
+Under the cyclamen, among the bracken,
+It may have chanced upon Beethoven's soul!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+What! Musical as well!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes; when I choose.
+I do not choose! I hate the mystery
+Of sounds! And in a lovely sunset, feel
+With dread some fair thing growing soft within me!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+That fair thing in your heart, my son, is I!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You said it.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Do you hate it?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I love _you_.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Then think a little ere you do me harm.
+My father and Prince Metternich are so good!
+When the decree, for instance, made you Count,
+I said, Not Count; Duke at the least; for Duke
+Is something. And you're Duke of Reichstadt.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Lord of Gross-Bohen, Buchtiehrad, Tirnowan,
+Schwaden, Kron-Porsitschan--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ And then, the tact!
+Your father's name was never mentioned once!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Why not have called me "Son of unknown Father"?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+With your estates and revenues you can be
+The pleasantest and richest Prince of Austria.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The richest Prince?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ And pleasantest--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Of--Austria!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Enjoy your happiness.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I drain its lees.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+First in precedence after the Archdukes,
+Some day you'll marry with a fair Princess,
+Or an Archduchess, or perhaps a--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ever
+I see what once my childish eyes caught sight of:
+His little throne, whose back was like a drum,
+And, made of gold, more splendid since Saint Helena.
+Upon that back the simple little N,
+The letter which cries No to time!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ But--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes!
+The N with which he branded Kings!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ The Kings
+Whose blood runs through your mother's veins and yours!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I do not need their blood! What use to me?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+A glorious heritage!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, paltry!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ What!
+Not proud to bear the blood of Charles the Fifth?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No! for it courses in the veins of others!
+But when I tell myself I bear in mine
+A Corsican Lieutenant's blood, I weep
+To see the thin blue trickle at my wrist.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Franz!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And the old blood can but harm the new.
+If I bear blood of Kings, let me be bled.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Silence!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What am I saying, after all?
+If ever I had yours long since I've lost it.
+His blood and yours have fought in me, and yours
+Was put to flight, as usual, by the other.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Peace, Duke of Reichstadt!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Metternich, the fool,
+Thought to scrawl "Duke of Reichstadt" o'er my name.
+But hold the paper up before the sun:
+You'll see "Napoleon" in the watermark!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+My son!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You called me Duke of Reichstadt? No!
+But would you have my veritable name?
+'Tis what the people call me in the Prater
+As they make way: The Little Bonaparte!
+I am his son! and no one's son but his!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+You hurt me.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, forgive me, mother, mother.
+Go to the ball, forget my frenzied words.
+You need not even trouble to repeat them
+To Metternich, my mother.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Do you think so?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Softly the waltz floats through the evening air;
+No, tell him nothing; that will save you trouble.
+Forget it all: you, who forget so quickly!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Yet--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Think of Parma, of the Sala palace,
+And of your happy life. Is this a brow
+To bear the shadow of an eagle's wing?
+Ah! but I love you more than you can think!
+And take no heed of aught--not even--O gods!--
+Of being faithful: I'll be that for both.
+Come, let me thrust you gently toward the ball;
+Good-night, The mosses must not wet your feet.
+Your headdress is perfection.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Do you think so?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The carriage waits. It's fine. The night is clear.
+Good-night, Mamma; enjoy yourself.
+
+ [MARIA LOUISA _goes out_. THE DUKE _sinks in a
+ chair before his table._]
+
+ Alas,
+Poor mother!
+
+ [_His manner changes, and he draws books and
+ papers toward him._]
+
+ Now! to work!
+
+ [_The wheels of a departing carriage are heard.
+ The door at the back opens gently and_ GENTZ
+ _is seen introducing a woman wrapped in a
+ cloak._]
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ She's gone.
+
+ [_He calls the_ PRINCE.]
+
+Prince!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Turning and seeing him._]
+
+ Fanny?
+
+FANNY ELSSLER.
+
+ Franz!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Aside._]
+
+ Farewell to dreams of Empire!
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_In the_ DUKE'S _arms._]
+
+Franz!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Going out._]
+
+ Capital!
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_Lovingly._]
+
+ My Franz!
+
+ [_The door closes on_ GENTZ. FANNY _quickly
+ leaves the_ DUKE _and speaks respectfully after
+ making a profound curtsey._]
+
+ My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_After looking round to assure himself_ GENTZ _is gone_.]
+
+ To work!
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_Swinging herself on to the table._]
+
+I've learnt whole chapters for to-day!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Go on.
+
+FANNY.
+
+So, then, while Marshal Ney marched through the night,
+The Generals Gazan--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Learning the names by heart._]
+
+ Gazan--
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Suchet--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Suchet--
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Kept up a lively cannonade;
+And at the earliest dawn the Imperial Guard--
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+[Illustration: decoration of three bees]
+
+[Illustration: decoration of four Ns topped alternately by eagles or
+crowns.]
+
+
+
+
+THE SECOND ACT
+
+_The_ DUKE'S _cabinet at Schönbrunn. It is the famous Lacquered Chamber.
+At the back is a window opening on a balcony. In the distance, at the
+end of a beautiful avenue, the "Gloriette," a Corinthian Portico. There
+are two doors on the left, and two on the right. Between these doors
+stand two large Louis XV. consoles. There is a large writing-table and
+other furniture in the styles of Louis XIV. and Louis XV. In the
+right-hand corner in front stands a large swinging mirror, with its back
+to the audience._
+
+_At the rise of the curtain_ SEDLINZKY (_the Prefect of the Police_),
+_the_ USHER, _and a number of_ LACKEYS _are discovered._
+
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+That's all?
+
+FIRST LACKEY.
+
+ That's all.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Nothing abnormal?
+
+SECOND LACKEY.
+
+ Nothing.
+
+THIRD LACKEY.
+
+Eats little.
+
+FOURTH LACKEY.
+
+ Reads a lot.
+
+FIFTH LACKEY.
+
+ Sleeps very badly.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_To the_ USHER.]
+
+And can you trust his personal attendants?
+
+THE USHER.
+
+Why, they are all professional policemen,
+As you, the Prefect of Police, must know.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Thank you. I fear the Duke may find me here.
+
+FIRST LACKEY.
+
+No, sir; he's out.
+
+SECOND LACKEY.
+
+ As usual at this hour.
+
+THIRD LACKEY.
+
+In uniform.
+
+FOURTH LACKEY.
+
+ And with his Aides-de-Camp.
+
+THE USHER.
+
+There are manoeuvres.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Well, be keen and tactful.
+Let him not know he's watched.
+
+THE USHER.
+
+ I'm very cunning.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Not too much zeal! I dread a zealous man.
+Don't listen at his keyhole in a crowd.
+
+THE USHER.
+
+I've given that duty to a special man.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+To whom?
+
+THE USHER.
+
+ The Piedmontese.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Ah yes; he's clever.
+
+THE USHER.
+
+I place him every evening in this chamber
+Immediately his Highness seeks his room
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Is he here now?
+
+THE USHER.
+
+ No. As he wakes all night
+He sleeps by daytime, while the Duke is out.
+He'll be here when the Duke is.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Let him watch.
+
+THE USHER.
+
+Trust me.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Glancing at the table._]
+
+ The papers--?
+
+THE USHER.
+
+[_With a smile._]
+
+ Searched.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Stooping under the table._]
+
+ The basket, too?
+
+[_Seeing scraps of paper under the table, he hastily
+kneels to examine them._]
+
+These scraps?
+
+ [_He tries to read._]
+
+ Perhaps a letter?
+
+ [_Urged by professional curiosity he creeps under
+ the table._]
+
+ But from whom?
+
+ [_The_ DUKE _enters in the uniform of an Austrian
+ officer, followed by his Staff. The_ LACKEYS
+ _hurriedly range themselves._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Seeing_ SEDLINZKY'S _legs protruding from under the
+table; very simply._]
+
+Why, how are _you_, Sedlinzky?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Emerging amazed on all fours._]
+
+ Highness!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+An accident. Excuse me. Just come in.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Standing._]
+
+You knew me? Yet I was--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Flat on your stomach?
+Oh yes, I knew you.
+
+ [_He sees the_ ARCHDUCHESS, _who enters hurriedly
+ carrying a large album._]
+
+ Ah, I feared as much!
+They've frightened you.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ They told me--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ It was nothing.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+But yet--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Seeing_ DOCTOR MALFATTI _enter._]
+
+ The doctor! But I am not ill!
+
+ [_To the_ ARCHDUCHESS.]
+
+Nothing. A choking. So I left parade.
+I had been shouting.
+
+ [_To the_ DOCTOR, _who is feeling his pulse._]
+
+ Doctor, you're a nuisance!
+
+ [_To_ SEDLINZKY, _who is sidling toward the door._]
+
+'Twas very kind of you to sort my papers.
+You're spoiling me. Indeed you are. You've chosen
+Even my lackeys from among your friends.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Your Highness does not think--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I shouldn't mind
+If only they performed their duties better.
+But I am villainously groomed. My stock
+Rides up. In short, since this is your department,
+I wish you'd black my boots a little better.
+
+ [_A_ LACKEY _brings a tray with refreshments, which
+ the_ DOCTOR _takes._]
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_Anxious to help the_ DUKE _from the tray._]
+
+Franz--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ SEDLINZKY, _who is again making for the door._]
+
+ You take nothing--?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ I have taken--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ A Tartar!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Orders, Foresti!
+
+FORESTI.
+
+ Colonel!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ We'll manoeuvre
+At early dawn the day after to-morrow;
+Assemble at Grosshofen.
+
+FORESTI.
+
+ Good, my Colonel!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To the_ OFFICERS.]
+
+I'll not detain you, gentlemen. Good-day.
+
+ [FORESTI _and the_ OFFICERS _go out._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ SEDLINZKY, _taking a letter out of his pocket, and
+tossing it toward him._]
+
+Dear Count, here is another you've not read.
+
+ [SEDLINZKY _and the_ DOCTOR _go out._]
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+[_Who came in a moment ago._]
+
+I think you treat him rather harshly, Highness.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Is not the Duke at perfect liberty?
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+Of course the Duke is not a prisoner, but--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I like that "but," I hope you feel its value!
+Good Lord, I'm not a prisoner, "but"--that's all!
+"But"--not a prisoner, "but"--that is the word,
+The formula! A prisoner? Oh, not a moment!
+"But" there are always people at my heels.
+A prisoner? Not I! You know I'm not;
+"But" if I risk a stroll across the park
+A hidden eye blossoms behind each leaf.
+Of course not prisoner, "but" let anyone
+Seek private speech with me, beneath each hedge
+Up springs the mushroom ear. I'm truly not
+A prisoner, "but" when I ride, I feel
+The delicate attention of an escort.
+I'm not the least bit in the world a prisoner,
+"But" I'm the second to unseal my letters.
+Not at all prisoner, "but" at night they post
+A lackey at my door--look! there he goes.
+I, Duke of Reichstadt, prisoner? Never! never!
+I, prisoner? No! I'm not a prisoner--"but"--!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+I love to see this mirth--so rare--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes, devilish!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+[_Taking his leave._]
+
+Your Highness--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Serenissimus!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ Eh!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ --issimus!
+That is my title. My particular title
+Kindly remember it another time!
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+[_Bowing._]
+
+I leave you--
+
+ [_He goes._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To the_ ARCHDUCHESS.]
+
+ Serenissimus! how glorious!
+
+[_Pointing to the album._]
+
+What's that?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ The Emperor's herbarium.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Lord!
+Grandpapa's botany!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ He lent it me
+This morning, Franz.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Examining it._]
+
+ It's pretty.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ You know Latin,
+What is this withered black thing?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ That's a rose.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Franz, there's been something wrong with you of late.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Reading._]
+
+_Bengalensis._
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Of Bengal?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ That's right.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+I find you nervous. What's the matter?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Nothing.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Yes, but I know, your bosom-friend Prokesch,
+The confidant of hopes they think too vast,
+They've sent him far away.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But in exchange
+They give me Marshal Marmont as a friend.
+Despised in France, he crawls to Austria
+To gather praise for treason to my Father.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Hush!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And a man like that is here to set
+The son against the Father!--Oh!--
+
+ [_Reading._]
+
+ _Volubilis._
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Franz, when you promise do you keep your word?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You've been so good to me, I could not break it.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Besides, you liked my birthday present, Franz.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah, yes! These relics from the archducal trophy!
+
+[_He takes the things he mentions, which are on a
+console between the doors on the right._]
+
+A tinder box--a busby of the Guard--
+An ancient musket--No! it isn't loaded!
+And above all--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Oh, hush!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ That other thing--
+I've hidden it.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Where, you bandit?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ In my den.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Well, promise then--your grandfather--you know
+His kindness--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Picking up a paper which has fallen from the herbarium._]
+
+ What is this? A sheet of paper?
+
+ [_He reads._]
+
+"And if the students still persist in shouting.
+Let them be crimped and sent on active service--".
+
+ [_To the_ ARCHDUCHESS.]
+
+You said--his kindness--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Yes; the Emperor loves you.
+His goodness--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Picking up another paper fallen from the herbarium._]
+
+ Here's another.
+
+ [_He reads._]
+
+ "As the mob
+Resist you, cut them down."
+
+ [_To the_ ARCHDUCHESS.]
+
+ His goodness--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+He hates the ferment of the modern mind,
+But he's an excellent old man.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Two-sided.
+Flowers from whose leaves death-sentences are shed,
+Good Emperor Franz is like these specimens.
+
+ [_He closes the herbarium._]
+
+However, he's beloved, he's popular,
+I love him well.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ How he could help your cause!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah! if he would!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Promise you'll never fly
+Until you've tried your utmost with him.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes,
+I promise that.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ And I'll reward you now.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Oh, one has one's little influence!
+The astounding Prokesch they deprived you of--
+I said and did so much--in short, he's here.
+
+ [_She strikes the ground with her parasol. The
+ door opens and_ PROKESCH _enters. The_ DUKE
+ _rushes to him. The_ ARCHDUCHESS _goes out
+ quickly._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+At last!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ They may be listening.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, they are!
+They never tell, though.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ What?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I've tested them.
+Uttered the most seditious sentiments;
+They've never been repeated. Never.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Strange!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I think the listener, paid by the police,
+Pockets the cash and stops his friendly ears.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+The Countess Camerata? Any news?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Nothing.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Oh!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Nothing. She's forgotten me;
+Or else she's been discovered--or, perhaps--
+What folly not to have fled last year! And yet
+'Twas better; now I'm readier, but--forgotten.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Oh, hush! Your work-room? Charming.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ It's Chinese.
+The hideous gilded birds! The nightmare faces
+Sneering with scorpion-smiles from every corner!
+They lodge me in the famous lacquered chamber
+So that my uniform may seem more white
+Against the blackness of its glowing walls!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Prince!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ They've surrounded me with fools and knaves.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+What have you done these last six months?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I've raged!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+I'd never seen this Schönbrunn.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ It's a tomb.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+The Gloriette looks well against the sky.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes, while my heart is hungering for glory
+I've that diminutive: the Gloriette!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+You've all the park to ride in.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, the park
+Is much too little.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Well, then, the valley.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The valley is too little for a gallop.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+What do you want for galloping?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ All Europe!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Oh, hush!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ When from the glowing page of history
+I lift dazed eyes, a forehead splashed with glory,
+Closing my Plutarch, leap with thee, O Cæsar,
+Upon a conquered land, with Alexander,
+With Hannibal, with thee, my Father--
+
+A LACKEY.
+
+[_Entering._]
+
+ What
+Will your Highness please to wear to-night?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ PROKESCH.]
+
+There!
+
+ [_To the_ LACKEY.]
+
+ I'm not going out.
+
+ [_The_ LACKEY _disappears._]
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+[_Who has been turning over some books._]
+
+ They let you read?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh, anything. The days are past when Fanny,
+That I might learn, learnt history by heart.
+And, later, books were handed me in secret.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+The good Archduchess--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Every day a book.
+Locked safe all night I read it. I was drunk!
+When it was finished, to conceal my crime,
+I tossed it on the tester's canopy,
+And there the heap grew, hidden in the darkness;
+I slept beneath a dome of history.
+All day the heap lay quiet, but at night,
+When I was sleeping, it began to stir,
+And from the pages clamorous with battles.
+The battles issued, stretching torpid wings;
+And laurels showered upon my slumbering eyes.
+Austerlitz gleamed among my curtains, Jena
+Glowed in the gilded tassels holding them
+And on a sudden lapsed into my dream.
+Till once, when Metternich was gravely telling
+His version of my father's history,
+Down comes my canopy crushed by the glory;
+A hundred volumes with their fluttering pages
+Shouting one name!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Metternich started?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No.
+He smiled benignantly, and said, "My Lord,
+Why keep your library so out of reach?"
+And since that day I've read whate'er I choose.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Even "_Le Fils de l'homme_?"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Hateful book!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes; but it's French and blinded by its hate.
+It says they're poisoning me; hints at Locusta
+Who poisoned Claudius. If thy Prince is dying,
+Wherefore, O France, belittle his disease?
+It is no poisoned cup of melodrama
+That kills the Duke of Reichstadt! 'Tis his soul!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+My Lord--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ It is my soul! it is my name!
+That mighty name, which throbs with guns and bells,
+Clashes and thunders, ceaselessly reproaches
+Against my languor with its bells and guns!
+Silence your tocsins and your salvos! Poison?
+What need of poison in the prison-house?
+I yearn to broaden history!--I am
+A pallid visage watching at a window.
+If I could only rid myself of doubt!
+You know me well! what do you think of me?
+Suppose I were what people say we are
+And what we often are, we great men's sons!
+Metternich feeds this doubt with frequent hints:
+He's right; it is his duty as an Austrian.
+I shiver when he opes the bonbonnière
+They call his wit, to find some honeyed venom.
+You! tell me honestly what is my worth?
+You know me; can I be an Emperor?
+From this pale brow may God withhold the crown
+Unless its pallor's that of Bonaparte!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Prince--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Answer me! Must I despise myself?
+Speak out! What am I? Are my wits too dull,
+And are my wrists too feeble for the sceptre?
+What do you think of me?
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Prince, if all Princes
+Struggled with half these torments, doubts, and fears
+There would be none but admirable kings.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I thank you, Prokesch. Ah! that word consoles me.
+To work, my friend!
+
+ [_A_ LACKEY _brings in a tray full of letters, places
+ them on the table, and goes out._]
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Your mail has just arrived.
+A load of letters.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes; from women. These
+Reach me unopened.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ What successes!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes;
+That's what it is to wear the fatal halo.
+
+ [_He opens one letter after another; reads the beginning
+ and tears them up._]
+
+"I saw you in your box last night, how pale--!"
+Destroyed! "Oh, that while brow!" Destroyed! "My Prince,
+I saw you riding in the Prater yesterday--"
+Destroyed!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ What, all?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ "Your youth--" The Canoness.
+Destroyed!
+
+ [_The door opens gently and_ THERESA _comes in._]
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Forgive me.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Little Brooklet. You?
+
+THERESA.
+
+Why do you always call me that?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ 'Tis sweet,
+'Tis pure. It fits you.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Prince, I go to Parma
+To-morrow with your mother.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I am sorry.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Parma--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The land of violets.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Ah, yes!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And if my mother knows not what they stand for
+Tell her.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Farewell, my Lord.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Go, little Brooklet,
+Go on your innocent course.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Why "Little Brooklet"?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Because the slumbering depths within your eyes,
+The murmur of your voice, so oft refreshed me.
+
+THERESA.
+
+You've nothing more to say?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No, nothing more.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Good-bye, my Lord.
+
+ [_She goes._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Destroyed!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Ah! I perceive!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+She loves me--and perhaps--but I must deal
+In history and not romances! Come!
+To work, my friend! We will resume our tactics.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+I'll plan an action: you shall criticise it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+First give me yonder box upon the couch,
+The wooden box with all my wooden soldiers.
+I'll work the problem much more easily
+Upon our little military chess-board.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+[_After giving the box to the_ DUKE.]
+
+You have to prove my plan is hazardous.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Putting his hand on the box._]
+
+These are the soldiers of Napoleon's son!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Prince!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I'm surrounded with such loving care,
+They even paint my soldiers--take them out--
+They even paint my wooden soldiers Austrian!
+Well! hand me one. We will deploy our left.
+
+[_He takes the soldier_ PROKESCH _hands him, and
+starts on seeing it._]
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+What is't?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ One of my father's Grenadiers!
+
+ [PROKESCH _hands him another._]
+
+A Cuirassier!
+
+ [_He takes others out of the box._]
+
+ Light Infantry! A scout!
+They're all become good Frenchmen! Someone's painted
+Each of these little wooden combatants!
+
+ [_He takes them all out._]
+
+They're French! French! French!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ What miracle is this?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I tell you, someone's carved and painted them!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Who?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And the artist was a soldier!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Why?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Each coat of regal blue has seven buttons,
+The collars are correct, the linings faithful,
+The tunics, brandenburghs, and forage-caps,
+All's there! The painter never had to pause
+To get the edgings and the facings right!
+The lace is white, the flaps are triple-pointed!--
+Oh, friend, whoe'er you are, with folded hands
+I thank you, nameless soldier of my father!
+I know not how you worked, nor whence you came.
+How you found means, here, in our dismal gaol,
+To paint these little mannikins for me.
+Who is the hero, little wooden army--
+Only a hero would have been so childish--
+Who is the hero who equipped you thus
+That now you smile at me from all your trappings?
+Whose was the loving, microscopic brush
+Which gave each tiny face its grim mustache,
+Stamped cannon cross-wise on each pouch, and gave
+Each officer his bugle or grenade?
+Take them all out! The table's covered with them.
+Here are the skirmishers, the fugle-men,
+The Infantry with shoulder-straps of green.
+Take them all out! They're little conquerors!
+Oh, Prokesch, look! locked in that little box
+Lay sleeping all the glorious _Grande Armée_!
+Here are the Mamelukes--I recognize
+The crimson breast-piece of the Polish Lancers.
+Here are the Sappers with their purple breeches,
+And here at last, with different colored leggings.
+The Grenadiers of the line with waving plumes
+Who marched into the battle with white gaiters;
+The Conscripts here, with green and pear-shaped tufts.
+Who marched to battle with their gaiters black.
+Like a poor prisoner, who falls a-dreaming
+Of vast and murmuring forests, with a tree
+Fashioned of shavings, taken from a doll's house,
+I build my Father's Epic with these soldiers.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+ [_He moves away from the table._]
+
+Why, yes, from here I cannot see at all
+The little rounds of wood that keep them upright!
+This army, Prokesch, when you move away
+'Tis but the distance makes it look so small!
+
+ [_He comes back quickly._]
+
+Place them in line for Wagram and for Eylau!
+This naked yatagan shall be the water--
+
+ [_He takes a sword from the panoply._]
+
+It is the Danube.
+
+ [_He arranges the soldiers._]
+
+ Essling! Yonder's Aspern.
+Throw out a paper bridge across the steel.
+Pass me a mounted Grenadier or two.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+We want a little hillock.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Handing him a book._]
+
+ The "Memorials."
+Here stands Saint Cyr, here Molitor of Bellegarde
+And on the bridge--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Who has come in unperceived and is standing behind
+him._]
+
+ And on the bridge?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The Guards.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+So all the army's French to-day, it seems!
+Where are the Austrians?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ They've run away.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Tut, tut--who daubed them over for you?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No one.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+'Twas you. That's how you spoil the toys we give you.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Sir--!
+
+ [METTERNICH _rings_--_a_ LACKEY _appears._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To the_ LACKEY.]
+
+ Take these soldiers; throw them all away.
+
+ [_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+I'll send you new ones.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I'll not have your new ones!
+If I'm a child, my toys shall be a giant's!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+What gadfly--what Imperial bee has stung you?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+As irony is little to my liking--
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+[_Aside to the_ DUKE.]
+
+Silence, my Lord! I'll paint 'em over again.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Well, Highness?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Nothing. Just a fit of temper.
+Forgive me.
+
+ [_Aside._]
+
+ I've a friend; I can be patient.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I came to bring your friend--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ My friend?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Yes; Marshal
+Marmont.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh! Marmont!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_With a look at_ PROKESCH.]
+
+ He's among the few
+I like to see about you--
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+[_Mutters._]
+
+ I should hope so!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+He's here.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Why, let him come!
+
+ [METTERNICH _goes out. The_ DUKE _throws himself
+ wildly on the couch._]
+
+ My father! Glory!
+The Eagles! The Imperial throne! The purple!
+
+ [_Suddenly calm, he offers his hand to_ MARMONT,
+ _who enters with_ METTERNICH.]
+
+Ah, Marshal Marmont! How are _you_ to-day?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+My Lord--!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Anxious to get_ PROKESCH _away._]
+
+ Come, Prokesch, come and see how well
+The Duke is lodged.
+
+ [_He takes him by the arm and leads him off._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_After a pause._]
+
+ You've told me all you know
+About my Father's youth?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ I have.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ We'll sum it up
+You'd call him great?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ Oh, very.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But 'twas you
+Who helped--
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ I helped him to avoid--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Disaster?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Well, he believed so stoutly--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ In his star?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+We perfectly agree in our conclusions.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And I suppose he was, as we were saying--
+
+MARMONT.
+
+He was a General of some importance;
+Yet it were hardly fair to call him--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Wretch!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+What?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Now I've learnt whatever you could teach me,
+Whatever memories of him you had,
+All that, in spite of you, was splendid in you.
+I cast you off: a useless sponge!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Duke of Ragusa, you betrayed him! You!
+Ah, yes, I know, when you beheld your comrade
+Climbing the throne you all said, "Why not I?"
+But you, whom even in the ranks he loved,
+And loved so well his men grew discontented,
+Created Marshal at the age of thirty--
+
+MARMONT.
+
+No; thirty-five.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You, traitor of Essonnes,
+The mob has found new uses for your name
+And coined a verb "_Raguser_," to betray!
+Why do you stand there silent? Answer me.
+'Tis not alone Prince Francis Charles, it is
+Napoleon the Second speaking to you.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+[_Listening._]
+
+They come--Prince Metternich--I know his voice.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Well! you know what to do. Betray us twice!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Entering with_ PROKESCH.]
+
+Don't interrupt your chat. I'm taking Prokesch
+Across the park to see the Roman ruins
+Where I propose to give a ball. I am
+The last survivor of a crumbling world.
+I like the idea of dancing over ruins.
+Good-night.
+
+ [_He goes out with_ PROKESCH.]
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ My Lord, you see I held my peace.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It only needed that you should _raguse_.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Oh, conjugate the verb! I'll take a seat.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ I will let you conjugate the verb
+Because you were magnificent just now.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Sir!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ I have spoken evil of your Father
+These fifteen years. I do so still; 'tis true.
+Can you not guess I seek to excuse myself?
+I never saw your Father after Elba--
+If I had seen him I should have returned.
+Others betrayed him, thinking to save France;
+But these beheld his face again, and fell
+Under the spell, as I have fallen to-night.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Why, sir?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ I also have beheld his face.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+How?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ In that frown, and in that haughty gesture;
+The sparkling eye! Insult me. I remain.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Almost you have atoned if that be true,
+Saved me from self-distrust which these exploit.
+What? With my gloomy brow and narrow chest--?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+I have beheld him!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Dare I hope again?
+Dare I forgive you? Why did you betray him?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+My Lord--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Why? You--and others?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ We were weary.
+Can you not understand? No peace in Europe.
+It's well to conquer, but one wants to live!
+Berlin, Vienna, never, never Paris!
+Beginning and beginning and beginning,
+Again, and yet again as in a nightmare;
+Forever and forever in the saddle
+Till we were sick of it!
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+[_Having taken out the wooden soldiers and come back._
+
+ What about us?
+
+THE DUKE AND MARMONT.
+
+Eh?
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+ Us, the men, the mean, the rank and file?
+Us, tramping broken, wounded, muddy, dying,
+Having no hope of duchies or endowments,
+Marching along and never getting further,
+Too simple and too ignorant to covet
+The famous marshal's baton in our knapsacks?
+What about us, who marched through every weather,
+Sweating but fearless, shivering without trembling,
+Kept on our feel by trumpet-calls, by fever,
+And by the songs we sang through conquered countries?
+Us upon whom for seventeen years--just think!--
+The knapsack, sabre, turn-screw, flint, and gun,
+Beside the burden of an empty belly,
+Made the sweet weight of five and fifty pounds?
+Us, who wore bearskins in the burning tropics
+And marched bareheaded through the snows of Russia,
+Who trotted casually from Spain to Austria?
+Us who, to free our travel-weary legs,
+Like carrots from the slough of miry roads,
+Often with both hands had to lug them out?
+Us, who, not having jujubes for our coughs,
+Took day-long foot-baths in the freezing Danube?
+Who just had leisure when some officer
+Came riding up, and gayly cried "To arms!
+The enemy is on us! Drive him back!"
+To eat a slice of rook--and raw at that,
+Or quickly mix a delicate ice-cream
+With melted snow and a dead horse's blood?
+Us, who--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ At last!
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+ At night had little fear
+Of bullets, but a holy dread of waking
+Cannibals; us--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ At last--!
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+ Who marched and fought
+Fasting, and only stopped--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ At last I see one!
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+To fight--and then stopped fighting, four to one,
+Only to march; and stopped again to fight!
+Marching and fighting, naked, starved, but merry--
+Don't you suppose we, too, were sick of it?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+But--
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+ Though we owed him precious little thanks,
+Nevertheless 'twas we whose hearts were true,
+While you were ambling at the King's right hand.
+In short, your Highness, in the great canteen,
+Where souls are fed on glory, he may find
+
+ [_Pointing to_ MARMONT.]
+
+His laurels are not worth our small potatoes.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Who is this Lackey with the veteran's growl?
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+John Seraph Peter Flambeau, called Flambart--
+"The glowing coal"--ex-sergeant grenadier.
+Mamma from Picardy; Papa a Breton.
+Joined at fourteen, two Germinal, year Three.
+Baptised, Marengo; got my corporal's stripes
+The fifteenth Fructidor, year Twelve. Silk hose
+And sergeant's cane, steeped in my tears of joy.
+July fourteenth, year Eighteen hundred and nine,
+At Schönbrunn, for the Guards were here to serve
+The sacred person of your Majesty.
+Sixteen years' service, seen sixteen campaigns,
+Fought Austerlitz, fought Eylau, Somo-Siera,
+Eckmühl, Essling, Wagram, Smolensk, and so forth.
+Thirty-two feats of arms, a lot of wounds,
+And only fought for glory and dry bread.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Surely you will not listen to him thus?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No, sir, I will not listen thus, but standing!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ For in the volume whose sublime
+Chapters are headed with proud capitals
+You are the titles and you catch the eye;
+But these--these are the thousand little letters--
+You're nought, without the black and humble army
+That goes to make a page of history.
+Oh, my brave Flambeau, painter of my soldiers,
+To think while you were near me all this month,
+I only looked upon you as a spy.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Oh, our acquaintance dates much further back!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+How so?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Can't you recall me?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Not at all.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+One Thursday in the garden of Saint Cloud
+Marshal Duroc stood with a maid-in-waiting,
+Watching your Highness at his nurse's breast--
+Its whiteness, I remember, startled me.
+Marshal Duroc exclaimed, "Come here!" I came.
+But there were lots of things to make me nervous:
+The Imperial child, the gorgeous rosy sleeves
+The Maid of honor wore, Duroc, the breast--
+In short, the tuft was shivering on my bearskin;
+So much so that your Highness noticed it.
+You gazed upon it pensively: what was it?
+And while you hailed it with a milky laugh
+You seemed uncertain which to admire the more
+About this moving scarlet miracle:
+Its motion, or the fact that it was scarlet.
+Suddenly, while I stooped, your little hands
+Began lo pull the precious tuft about.
+Seeing my plight, the Marshal cried severely,
+"Don't interfere"--I didn't interfere;
+But having sunk upon my knees I heard
+The nurse, the marshal, and the lady laughing.
+And when I rose the grass was strewn with red:
+As for my tuft, that was a beardless wire.
+"I'll sign an order," said Duroc, "for two."
+Back to my quarters then I strutted radiant;
+"You there! hulloa!" exclaimed the Adjutant,
+"Who's plucked you?" And I cried: "The King of Rome!"
+And that is how one Thursday morn I met
+Your Majesty. Your Highness has developed.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No, not developed: that is why I grieve.
+My "Majesty" has shrivelled to my "Highness."
+
+MARMONT.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+But since the Empire fell, what have you done?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+I think I've acted like a decent beggar.
+I know Fournier and Solignac. In May
+Eighteen-sixteen Didier and Sarlovèze
+Conspire and fail. I see the child Miard
+Perish, and David the old man, and weep;
+They'd have beheaded me, but I am missing.
+Good. I come back to Paris with an alias;
+I smash a footstool on a royal guard
+Because he'd trodden on my favorite corn.
+I take the chair at noisy drinking bouts,
+Spend thirty pence a month. I nurse a hope
+That in the Var that Other still may land.
+I swagger in a Bonapartist hat
+And call whoever stares at me a vampire.
+I fight some thirty duels. I conspire
+At Béziers; fail. They'd have beheaded me,
+But I am missing. Good. I join at once
+The plot at Lyons. All are seized. I fly.
+They'd have beheaded me, but I am missing.
+So I come back to Paris, where, by chance,
+I find myself mixed up in the Bazaar plot.
+Lefèvre-Desnouettes is in America.
+I join him there. "What's up, my General?"
+Says I. Says he, "Come back." We start; we're wrecked.
+My General's drowned, but I know how to swim;
+And so I swim, bewailing Desnouettes.
+Good. Very good. Sun--azure waves--and sea-mews.
+A ship. They fish me up. I land in time
+To be among the plotters of Saumur.
+We fail again. They'd have beheaded me,
+But I am missing. So I make for Greece,
+To rub the rust off, thrashing dirty Turks.
+One morning in July I'm back in France.
+I see them heaping paving stones. I help.
+I fight. At night the tricolor is hoisted.
+Instead of the while banner of the King,
+But as I think there still is something lacking
+To crown the point of that disloyal staff;
+You know--the golden thing that beats its wings.
+I leave, to plot in the Romagna. Fail.
+A relative of yours--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Named?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Camerata--
+Makes me her fencing master--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ In Tuscany.
+So we conspire with singlestick and rapier.
+Next there's a post of danger vacant here;
+They give me forged credentials; here I am.
+I'm here; but every day I see the Countess,
+For I have found the cave your Highness dug
+With your preceptor Colin in the garden
+To play at little Robinson. All right!
+I hide in it. I find it has two openings:
+This in an ant-heap; that, a bed of nettles.
+I wait. Your cousin brings her sketch-book, and
+There in the shadow of the Roman thingummies,
+She on her camp-stool, I amid the mud,
+She looking like an English tourist sketching,
+I whispering from my cavern like a prompter,
+We plan the means to make you Emperor.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And for such loyalty, so long maintained,
+What do you ask of me?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Just pull my ear.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ As your Father used to when we'd pleased him.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I'm waiting. Come. The thumb and index.
+
+[THE DUKE _pulls his ear._]
+
+That's not the way to pull an ear, my Lord!
+You don't know how: you're much too gentlemanly.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah, do you think so?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ Clumsy thing to say!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Well, in a French Prince that's but half a fault.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But can you see I'm French in these surroundings?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Yes, you don't match. It's rich; it's heavy.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ What!
+Can you see that?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ My brother's an upholsterer.
+He works in Paris for Fontaine and Percier--
+They try to imitate us here; but, Lord!
+They've got a curious kind of Louis-Quinze!
+I'm not an expert, but I've got an eye.
+
+ [_He lifts up a chair._]
+
+Just look how finnicking this wood-work is.
+
+ [_He puts it down and looks at it._]
+
+But then the tapestry! What taste! what mystery!
+It sings. It laughs. It crushes all the room.
+Why? Don't you know? Why, these are Gobelins!
+How plain it is that cunning craftsmen made them.
+This taste, this elegance swears with the rest--
+And you my Lord, were also made in France!
+
+MALMONT.
+
+He must go back.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And on the Cross of Honor
+Once more engrave a little Emperor.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Whom have they put there now?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Henry the Fourth--
+Well, damn it all, it had to be a fighter!
+But, _basta_! How Napoleon must laugh
+To wear King Henry's mask upon his face!
+Haven't you ever seen the cross?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ In shops.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+My Lord, it must be seen upon a breast.
+Here on the cloth, a gout of ardent blood,
+Which fell, and falling turned to burnished gold
+And to enamel with an edge of green;
+'Twas like a jewel pouring from a wound.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It must have looked magnificent, my friend.
+Here on your bosom.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I?--I never had it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What! After all your modest heroism?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+One had to do far greater deeds to win it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You made no claim?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The Little Corporal
+Didn't bestow it; so I hadn't earned it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Then I, who have no power, no throne, no title,
+I, who am but a memory in a phantom,
+That Duke of Reichstadt who with helpless grief
+Can only wander under Austrian trees,
+Carving an N upon their mossy trunks,
+Wayfarer, only noticed when I cough;
+Who have no longer even the little piece
+Of watered silk so scarlet in my cradle;
+I, on whose woes they vainly lavish stars,
+Who only wear two crosses, not the One!
+I, exiled, prisoner, sick, who may not ride
+Along the front of pompous regiments
+Scattering stars among my heroes; yet
+I hope--I think--the son of such a father--
+Into whose hands a firmament was given--
+I think, in spite of shadows and dead days,
+A little of the star clings to my fingers:--
+John Seraph Peter Flambeau, I adorn you!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+You!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, this ribbon is not real.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The real
+Is that we weep in taking. I have wept.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Besides, it must be legalized in Paris.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But how to get to Paris?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Pack your trunk.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Alas!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ No more "Alas." To-day's the Ninth,
+And if you'd like to be on the Pont-Neuf
+The Thirtieth--you'll be there if you like--
+Come to the ball to-morrow given by Nepomuk.
+
+THE DUKE AND MARMONT.
+
+By whom?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Prince Metternich (Clement Lothair
+Wenceslas Nepomuk). Come. No more "Alas!"
+
+MARMONT.
+
+You utter dangerous secrets in my presence!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+You'll not betray a plot in which you share.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Not Marmont!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ Yes, I'm with you.
+
+ [_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+ All the same
+You didn't use much flattery to win me;
+You gave me quite a warm reception.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Yes;
+And won a warm reception for myself.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Very imprudent.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ True, but then my failing
+Is ever overdoing things a little.
+I always add a trifle to my orders
+And wear a rose-bud when I go to battle:
+My little joke.
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ So if the Camerata
+Cares to employ me--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No! not Marmont!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Pooh!
+Let him redeem himself!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ I have lists
+Carefully made, of all the malcontents;
+Maison, the French Ambassador, is my friend.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Oh, he can serve us.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Compromises! No!
+I'll not let Marmont consecrate himself!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+When you are crowned, my Lord, I will obey you.
+Meanwhile I'll go at once to General Maison.
+
+ [MARMONT _goes out._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+That venerable rascal's in the right.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+So be it, then! I'll come. But where's the proof
+That France still feels herself my Father's widow?
+Oh, Flambeau, time has passed; the ancient love
+These worthy people bore us must have died.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Their love of you, my Lord? Why that's immortal!
+
+ [_He takes from about his person the various articles
+ mentioned in the following scene._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Why, Flambeau, what is that?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ A pair of braces.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Have you gone mad?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Just look and see what's on 'em!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+My portrait!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Worn by quite a decent class.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But Flambeau--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Will you take a pinch of snuff?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ On the box a little curly head.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+'Tis I!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And what about this handkerchief?
+Eh! Not so bad, the little King of Rome?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Colored print to paste upon your walls.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Again! on horseback!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Yes, and caracolling.
+How d'you like this pipe?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But tell me, Flambeau--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+You cannot say they haven't drawn you handsome!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ A cockade, to tease the government.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What's that?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ A medal. Trivial fancy goods.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Still I?
+
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Still you. Look here, what words are ground
+Upon this tumbler?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ "Francis, Duke of Reichstadt."
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Of course you can't get on without a plate--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+A plate?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ A knife, a napkin-ring, an egg-cup.
+They've made you look so happy on the egg-cup!
+The table's laid, my Lord: my Lord is served!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_With increasing emotion._]
+
+Flambeau--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ On everything. Here's a cravat
+In which you're woven riding in the clouds;
+And playing cards of which you're Ace of Spades--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Flambeau!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And Almanacs--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Flambeau!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And everything!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Flambeau!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ What, weeping? Take this handkerchief
+And dry your eyes upon the King of Rome!
+
+[_He kneels by the_ DUKE'S _side and wipes his eyes
+with the handkerchief._]
+
+I bid you strike the iron while it's hot:
+You've got the people and you've got the Marshals,
+The King, the King himself, is only King
+On one condition: that he's Bonapartist.
+Vainly the Gallic cockerel spreads his wings
+That, from a distance, he may seem an eagle.
+We Frenchmen cannot breathe inglorious air;
+The crown must slip from off a pear-shaped head.
+The youth of France will rally to your side
+Merrily shouting songs of Béranger--
+The street has shuddered and the pavement trembled,
+And Schönbrunn's not so pretty as Versailles!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I will accept.
+
+ [_Military music is heard._]
+
+ Ha!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_At the window._]
+
+ In the Court of honor
+The trumpets of the Guard. The Emperor
+Is coming home.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ My grandfather! My promise!
+
+ [_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+No; before accepting--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Damn it!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Listen!
+I must make one attempt with him; but if
+When you are here on guard to-night, you see
+Something--that you're not used to seeing here--
+It is a signal! I will fly.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Latude!
+What will the signal be?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You'll see.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ But if--
+
+ [_An officer of the Noble Guard enters._]
+
+THE OFFICER.
+
+My Lord--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Taking stock of him._]
+
+ The beggars! Aren't they gorgeous swells!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Well?
+
+THE OFFICER.
+
+ As the Emperor passed, they came and said,
+"O Sire, this is the one day in the week
+Whereon your Majesty receives his subjects;
+Many have come from far--" "I'd thought of it,"
+Replied the Emperor, smiling; "and I hope
+To see them. I'm at Schönbrunn as a grandfather,
+I shall be with the Duke from five to six:
+Let all my children be beside my grandson."
+May they come up?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes! open all the doors!
+
+ [_The_ OFFICER _goes out._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+Now quickly make a bundle of these treasures.
+I'll look at them at leisure in my room.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+I make the bundle in the handkerchief.
+But tell me what the signal is to be.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh, never fear! you will not fail to know it.
+But--do you hear them? That's the Austrian Hymn.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+My word! It isn't worth the Marseillaise!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The Marseillaise--well? have you tied the ends?
+My father used to say it wore mustachios.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Their blessed national hymn has scented whiskers.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It wouldn't be bad fun to enter France,
+Thus, with my bundle on my back, on foot.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+How cheerful and how funny you can be!
+This is the first time I have seen you so.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What? Rather young and merry? Thank you, Flambeau.
+
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+[Illustration: decoration of two eagles with an orb between]
+
+[Illustration: decoration of an eagle with wings spread wide and a crown
+above its head]
+
+
+
+
+THE THIRD ACT
+
+_Scene: The same as in the previous act._
+
+_A miscellaneous crowd of men, women and children are discovered on the
+rising of the curtain. They are being placed in order by an_ OFFICER.
+
+
+THE OFFICER.
+
+Line up. Be quiet. Boy, behave yourself.
+The Emperor enters here; so leave a passage.
+You, giant Highlander, don't scrape your feet.
+
+A MAN.
+
+Will he pass here?
+
+THE OFFICER.
+
+ Yes; and he'll take your papers.
+Hold your petitions so that he can see them.
+No tedious twaddle--Ah!--and you're forbidden
+To kneel when he comes in.
+
+A WOMAN.
+
+ Forbidden or not,
+That won't prevent us--
+
+ [_The_ EMPEROR _enters quite simply, without being
+ announced. All the people, in spite of the warning,
+ fall on their knees._]
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Rise, my children, rise.
+
+ [_He passes from one to the other, taking their
+ papers. To a_ WOMAN.]
+
+Your pension's doubled.
+
+THE WOMAN.
+
+ Sire!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+[_To a_ MAN.]
+
+ What? What? A team
+Of oxen? That's expensive!--Granted.
+
+THE MAN.
+
+ Father!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+[_Reading another paper._]
+
+Granted.
+
+A WOMAN.
+
+ Father Franz--
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ What, you? All well
+At home?
+
+THE WOMAN.
+
+ Oh, so-so.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Well, old woman? Well?
+
+THE OLD WOMAN.
+
+Why, don't you see, the wind has killed my chickens.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Granted.--A vocalist?
+
+THE VOCALIST.
+
+ I yodle.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Come
+And yodle to the Court at Baden.
+
+THE CHAMBERLAIN.
+
+ Name?
+
+THE VOCALIST.
+
+Schnauser.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ A Highlander?
+
+THE HIGHLANDER.
+
+ Out yonder
+My home is, on the mountains, in the skies.
+I want to be a cabman in Vienna.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Well, so you shall.
+
+ [_Taking another paper._]
+
+ A wealthy husbandman
+Begs Franz to give him back his daughter's love
+Which a Bohemian glass-blower has stolen.
+
+ [_Handing back the paper._]
+
+You'll wed your child to her Bohemian lover.
+
+THE HUSBANDMAN.
+
+But--
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ I'll endow him.
+
+THE CHAMBERLAIN.
+
+ Name?
+
+THE HUSBANDMAN.
+
+ Johannes Schmoll.
+I kiss your hands.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+[_Taking another paper._]
+
+ "A shepherd of the Tyrol,
+A friendless orphan, robbed of all his land,
+Driven from his homestead by his father's foes,
+Yearns for his native woods and skies"--how touching!--
+"And his paternal meadow." 'Tis restored.
+
+THE CHAMBERLAIN.
+
+What is the shepherd's name, who asks for help?
+
+THE SHEPHERD.
+
+The Duke of Reichstadt! And the meadow's France!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+[_To the_ PETITIONERS.]
+
+Begone!
+
+ [_All go._]
+
+ What's this?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ It seems if I were only
+A mountain shepherd or a forester,
+With nothing to attract your notice, Sire,
+Save a cock's feather in my huntsman's hat,
+You would have drawn me to your melting heart.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+But Franz--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, now I know why all your subjects,
+All those who are unhappy, call themselves
+Your sons as much as we; but is it just,
+Sire, is it just, that I, when I'm unhappy,
+Have less of kinship than the least of these?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+But why just now--for I must scold you, sir--
+When I was busy with these wretched people--
+Why come to me just now, and not in private?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I wished to find you when your heart was open.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+My heart--my heart!--You're somewhat over-bold!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I know that you can do the thing I ask,
+That I am wretched almost past endurance,
+And that you are my Grandfather--that's all.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+But there is Europe--England--above all,
+There's Metternich.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You are my Grandfather.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+You don't know half the difficulties.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But
+I am the grandson of your Majesty.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+But--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Sire, in whom alone I place my trust,
+Be Grandfather a little while!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ But I--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Just for a moment drop the Emperor.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Ah, what a coaxing way you always had.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You know I cannot bear you when you look
+Like the great portrait hanging in the throne-room,
+With the ermine cloak and Golden Fleece upon you;
+But here, like this, I like you very much.
+With the dear silver of your floating hair,
+Your kindly eyes, your simple coat and waistcoat;
+For now you're just a dear old gentleman,
+By whom a grandchild might be petted.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Petted!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Are you not bored to see the heavy jowls
+Of Louis-Philip on the coins of France?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Hush! hush!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Do you adore these podgy Bourbons?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+You are not like your cousins the Archdukes.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Indeed?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Where did you learn your saucy tricks?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I learnt them playing in the Tuileries.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Ah, you come back to that?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I wish I could.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Can you recall those days?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, only vaguely.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Can you recall your father?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I remember
+A man who pressed me hard against a star,
+And as he pressed I felt with tears of fright
+The diamond star was stamped upon my heart:
+Sire, it has stayed there!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Do I blame you for it?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes, let the goodness of your nature speak!
+When I was small you loved me, did you not?
+You loved to have me with you at your meals,
+And so we used to dine together--
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Charming.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+My hair was long, and I was Prince of Parma;
+And when they punished me you let me off.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Do you remember how you hated ponies?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+One day they showed me one as white as snow;
+I stamped with fury in the riding-school.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+You thought a pony was a deadly insult.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I cried with rage: I want a great, big horse!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+And now you want another great, big horse!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And how I used to beat my German nurses.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+And how with Colin you would calmly dig
+Enormous holes about my park--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ For Crusoe.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+He was Man Friday.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And I used to hide.
+I had a gun, three hatchets and a bow.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Then you stood sentinel before my door.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+As a hussar.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ And ladies, coming late,
+Found this excuse quite natural:--"Oh, Sire,
+We only stopped to kiss the sentinel!"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You loved me then.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ I love you now.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Then prove it!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+My Franz! my grandson!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Is it true the King
+Would simply disappear if I appeared?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Well--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Is it true?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ I--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Don't tell lies!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Perhaps!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I love you!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Yes; if you appeared alone,
+Without a drum, upon the bridge at Strassburg,
+The King would vanish.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I adore you, Grandad!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+I'm stifled!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ I should have held my tongue.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Besides, the climate of Vienna's bad:
+I'm ordered Paris--
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Really?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ For my cough.
+If I'm to spend a season there, of course
+I can't stop anywhere but at the Louvre.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Indeed!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And if you liked--
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ They've often begged us
+To wink at your escaping--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Wink at once!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Oh, for all me--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ There's no one else.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ I'll think.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Don't think! Don't think those horrid second thoughts!
+Consult your feelings only, and your heart,
+'Twould be so pretty if an Emperor once
+Upset all history to spoil his grandson.
+And then it's something, something rather fine,
+If you can just remark quite innocently,
+_You_ know: "My Grandson, Emperor of the French."
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Certainly.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And you'll say it! Say you'll say it!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Well--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Speak, Sire!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Yes, then--Sire!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, Sire!
+
+ [_They salute each other as equals._]
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Sire!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Sire!
+
+ [_A door opens._]
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Metternich. Have no fear; I'll--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ All is lost!
+
+ [_Enter_ METTERNICH.]
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+It is my will this child shall reign.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Delightful.
+I'll tell your partisans at once.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I feared.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+What should you fear? Am I not master here?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Whom will you send me as Ambassador?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Delightful.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And you'll visit me in state?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Yes, very likely; when the chambers rise.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+We'll only ask some trifling guarantees.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ask what you like.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Well? are you happy?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ First
+We'll come to terms on trivial points of detail:
+Certain seditious groups should be dissolved:
+Our neighbors must not harbor thunderbolts.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Dear grandfather!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Ah--then we're very weary
+Of hearing of the Heroes of July.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Now the imperialists and radicals
+Are linked: we'll cut the link; we cannot favor
+The dangerous modern spirit. We'll expel
+Lammenais.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ And Chateaubriand. Ah--
+We'll also put a muzzle on the press.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh, there's no hurry.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Pardon me, there is.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Pardon me, that's attacking freedom.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Freedom!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Ah--we must have free hand in Italy.
+Ah--not so much excitement about Poland.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah? And what else?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Well, we shall have to solve
+The question of the names. You know, the names
+Of battles, Sire, which you--well--did not win:
+The Marshals must not wear them.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What is that?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Perhaps--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Forgive me; but they must not think
+They're lords of Austrian places; and you cannot
+Approve their way of carrying off to France
+Our villages by means of upstart titles.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Grandfather! Grandfather!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Well--it's evident--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yet you and I were in each other's arms!
+
+ [_To_ METTERNICH.]
+
+And have you nothing further to demand?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Yes; the suppression of the Tricolor.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Your Excellency wishes me to wash
+The banner based in blood and crowned with heaven--
+For it was dipped in horrors that bear fruit,
+And it was bathed in universal hopes!--
+Your Excellency asks me to efface
+That gleam of heaven and that stain of blood,
+And, having nothing but a blank sheet left,
+To make a shroud for Freedom out of that!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Freedom again!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Upon my father's side
+I am related closely, Sire, to Freedom.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Yes, the Duke's grandsire was the eighteenth Brumaire!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes, and the Revolution was my granddam!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Silence!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ The Emperor a republican!
+Utopia!--Play the Marseillaise in A
+On trumpets, while the sentimental flute
+Sighs "God preserve the Empire" in E flat.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The two go very well together, sir,
+And make a tune that frightens Kings away!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+This to my face? How dare you, sir? How dare you?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah, now I know what is expected of me!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+What does it mean? What is the matter with him?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I am to be an Austrian Archduke
+On a French throne!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ What has he read or seen?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I have seen egg-cups, handkerchiefs, and pipes!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+He's mad! The words he utters are a madman's!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Mad to have thought you'd help me to my own.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+'Tis you alone obstruct your going home.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes, in a gig instead of on a gun!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+You shall not go at all!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A cage?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ We'll see!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+For all your cages I am still the Eaglet!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+The eagle on my flag has many eaglets:
+You're one of them: that's all.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, gloomy eagle!
+Sad, double-headed fowl, with heavy eye:
+Eagle of Austria, cruel bird of night!
+A glorious eagle of the dawn has passed
+Athwart thine eyrie, and with ruffled feathers,
+Raging and terror-stricken, thou beholdest
+One of thine eaglets sprouting golden plumage!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+My heart was softening: I regret my tears.
+These books and weapons shall be taken from you.
+Dietrichstein!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ He is not in the palace.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Poor, morbid child, we will suppress whatever
+Too much reminds you who your father was.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Then you must root up every violet,
+Drive every single bee out of your park!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Change all the servants!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ I'll dismiss them all:
+Otto, Fritz, Hermann, Albrecht--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Close the shutters,
+Lest yonder star remind me of my father's.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+And as for Dietrichstein, I'll sign at once
+New regulations--
+
+ [_To_ METTERNICH.]
+
+ Write.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Where is the ink?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+My inkstand's on the table; you may use it.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Where? I see nothing!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The Minerva's head,
+In bronze and marble.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Still I cannot see it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Then take the other, made of burnished gold,
+On yonder console--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Where?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ What inkstands?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Sire,
+Those which my father left me.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ What do you mean?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes! in his testament! And there, the pistols,
+Four pistols of Versailles. Take them away.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+[_Bringing his fist down on the table._]
+
+What's this?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You must not hit the table, Sire!
+Now you've knocked down the sword he wore as Consul!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+These things you speak of--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Are before my eyes!
+"They are to be surrendered to my son
+When he has reached sixteen." Despite the crime
+Which holds them back, they're mine: I have their soul!
+The soul of every cross, of every jewel,
+And all is here: the three mahogany caskets,
+And all the snuff-boxes, and all the spurs,
+The golden garter-buckles and the gorgets,
+I've all! The iron sword, the enamelled sword,
+The sword in which a never-setting sun
+Has left its fires imprisoned, so that none
+May dare to draw it lest the sun leap forth;
+I have the sword-belts also, all the six!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Silence!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ "To be surrendered to my son
+When he has reached sixteen." Oh, Father, sleep.
+For I have all; even your uniforms.
+Oh, yes! To you my uniform looks white--
+Well, it's not true--it's false--I am pretending!
+Father, behold, it's blue and red, behold!
+Colonel? Not so! Lieutenant in your Guard!
+By the device your soldiers bore I know it,
+Father, who gave me victories for sisters!
+'Twas not in vain you wished me to possess
+The alarm-clock of King Frederick of Prussia,
+Which you magnificently stole from Potsdam,
+For here it is! 'Tis ticking in my brain!
+It is the clock which wakes me every morning,
+Drives me exhausted by my midnight toil
+Back to my narrow table, to my toil,
+To be more fit by night-fall for the throne!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+The throne! the throne! Oh, never hope again
+That you may reign in France, you--Upstart's son,
+Because our nobler blood has made you look
+Rather more kingly than your father was.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Forgive me, but at Dresden, you remember,
+You all appeared like lackeys of my father.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+A common soldier!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ He had but to ask
+And Emperors gave their daughters to this soldier.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Perhaps. I cannot say. Mine is a widow.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Pity I'm here as living evidence!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Have you forgotten how we loved each other?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No! No! My birth is proof that you were beaten!
+No! you can only hate me; for I am
+Wagram personified before your eyes!
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Out of my sight! Begone!
+
+ [_Exit the_ DUKE.]
+
+ The child I loved!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Well, Sire, is he to have an empire?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ Never!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Do you perceive what I have saved you from?
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+Ah! did you hear the monstrous things he said?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+We must subdue him.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ For his own sake; yes,
+METTERNICH.
+
+For the world's peace and yours.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ We must subdue him.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I'll come and speak to him to-night.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ What grief
+He gives me!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Trying to lead him away._]
+
+ Come.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ You'll speak to-night?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ This scene
+Must never be repeated.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+ It has hurt me.
+Unhappy child!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Leading him off._]
+
+ Come, Sire.
+
+THE EMPEROR.
+
+[_Without._]
+
+ The child--
+
+ [_His voice dies away._]
+
+ [_The_ DUKE _opens his door very gently, sees they
+ are gone, listens a moment, then enters quickly
+ and places one of Napoleon's little hats on the
+ table._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The signal!
+
+ [_He returns to his room._]
+
+ [FLAMBEAU _enters._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+'Tis time. Well, signal? Are you here?--Perhaps.
+
+ [_He hunts for it._]
+
+"Flambeau," he said, "you cannot fail to find it."
+Now, is it high or low, or black or white?
+Or great or small?
+
+ [_He sees the hat._]
+
+ The Emperor's--! Small _and_ great!
+
+ [_He goes toward the window._]
+
+Oh, but the Countess watches in the park,
+And if the signal's here I am to signal:
+
+ [_He takes out his handkerchief._]
+
+No! This won't do. A white flag makes her ill.
+
+ [_A servant enters with a reading-lamp, which he
+ carries toward the_ DUKE'S _room._]
+
+THE SERVANT.
+
+The Duke of Reichstadt's reading-lamp.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Leaping upon him and seizing the lamp._]
+
+ You dolt!
+It's leaking! It must have fresh air!
+
+ [_He takes it out on the balcony._]
+
+You wave it three times so: arrange the wick;
+
+ [_He does as he says and gives the lamp back to
+ the_ SERVANT.]
+
+That's it. See that?
+
+THE SERVANT.
+
+ Oh, aren't you clever?
+
+ [_He carries the lamp into the_ DUKE'S _room._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Rather!
+To-morrow--flight!
+
+ [SEDLINZKY _enters._]
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ The Duke?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Pointing to the room._]
+
+ In there.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Watch here.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+I'm watching.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Lock!
+
+ [_He goes out._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Locking the door after him._]
+
+ Locked!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Without._]
+
+ Take the key out.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Out.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+None but the Emperor has the key. Be careful--
+Watch.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ As I always do.
+
+ [_He bends over the key-holes and arranges them
+ carefully._]
+
+ And for the night
+I'll close the eyelids of the key-holes softly.
+
+SEDLINZKY'S VOICE.
+
+Good-night, you Piedmontese.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Good-night, my Lord.
+
+SEDLINZKY'S VOICE.
+
+Remember! you're on duty.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I'm on duty.
+
+SEDLINZKY'S VOICE.
+
+Well, that's all right. Good-night.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Good-night!
+
+ [_He throws off his livery coat. Puts on the busby,
+ which is standing on the console, and shoulders
+ the musket. He is now in the full accoutrement
+ of a Grenadier of the Guards._]
+
+ And thus,
+Suddenly upright, thin, unliveried,
+Locked in till dawn, and safe against surprise,
+Glowering with grizzled brows beneath his busby,
+Straight in his ancient uniform, his gun
+Firm in his arm, his hand on his right nipple,
+The fixed and regulation attitude,
+Standing thus every night before your threshold,
+Giving himself a password full of pride,
+Pleased with a deed that's grave, and yet a jest,
+A Grenadier at Schönbrunn stands on guard
+About the son as once about the Father.
+'Tis the last time! You'll never hear of it.
+'Tis for myself. A private luxury.
+I must be mad to do a thing like this
+For no one's eye, but just to say "By Jove,
+That's rather good!" At Schönbrunn! In their teeth!
+But I'm delighted!--I'm content!
+
+ [_He hears the noise of a key in the door._]
+
+ I'm damned!
+
+ [_The door opens gently._]
+
+Who can have got the key?
+
+ [_He retires into the shadow by the_ DUKE'S _door._]
+
+ [METTERNICH _enters, carrying a large candelabrum._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ No, no! This scene
+Must never be repeated.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Nepomuk!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Yes, I will speak to-night. We are alone.
+
+ [_As he puts down the candelabrum he sees the hat._]
+
+What's this? I never knew he had one like--
+Ah! the Archduchess must have sent him this;
+So there thou art, thou legendary hat!
+'Tis many years--Good day!--What sayst thou? What?
+No, from thy little sable pyramid
+Twelve years of splendor gaze on me in vain,
+I do not fear thee now.
+The leathern tag
+With which he constantly could take thee off,
+And so win cheers yet leave thy shape unharmed.
+With thee he fanned himself after each victory;
+Thou couldst not fall from his unheeding fingers,
+But straight a king would stoop to pick thee up.
+To-day, my friend, thou art a reach-me-down,
+And if I tossed thee through the casement yonder
+Where wouldst thou end thy days?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To himself._] In a museum!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+The famous little hat--how very ugly!
+They called it little--is it really little?
+No; it is big; enormous; it's the hat
+A little man puts on to increase his inches.
+For 'twas a hatter set the legend going:
+The real Napoleon, after all, was Poupart.
+Ah, never think my hatred of thee slumbers!
+'Twas for thy shape's sake first I hated thee,
+Thou vampire-bat of bloody battle-fields,
+Hat that seemed fashioned out of raven's wings.
+I hated thee for pitilessly soaring
+Above the fields which witnessed our defeats,
+Half-circle, seeming on the ruddy sky
+The orb half-risen of some sable sun!
+And for thy crown wherein the devil lurks,
+Thou juggler's hat, laid with a sudden hand
+Upon a throne, an army, or a nation--
+When thou wert lifted all had disappeared.
+I hated thee for the salutes I gave thee,
+For thy simplicity--mere affectation--
+Thy insolent joy, thou piece of common beaver
+Amid the glittering diadems of gold;
+For staying firmly on his haughty head
+When I sought flattering epithets to please thee.
+Conqueror, new, acclaimed, I hated thee!
+I hate thee now, old, conquered and betrayed!
+I hate thee for thy haughty shadow, cast
+Forever on the wall of history;
+I hate thee for thy Jacobin cockade,
+Staring upon me like a bloodshot eye;
+For all the murmurs sounding in thy shell,
+That huge black shell the waves have left behind
+Wherein the shuddering listener may hear
+The rumor of a nation on the march.
+I hate thee for the pride of France, whose bounds
+Thou hast enlarged until she scorns the world;
+For Béranger I hate thee, and Raffet,
+For all the songs and all the pasquinades,
+And for the halo of Saint Helena.
+I hate thee, hate thee. I shall not be happy
+Until thy clumsy triangle of cloth,
+Despoiled of its traditions, is again
+What it should ne'er have ceased to be in France--
+The headgear of a village constable.
+I hate--but suddenly--how strange!--the present
+Sometimes with impish glee will ape the past!--
+Seeing thy well-known shape before me thus
+Carries my mind back to a distant day,
+For it was here he always put thee down
+When twenty years ago he sojourned here.
+This room was then the ante-chamber; here,
+Waiting till graciously he showed himself,
+Dukes, Princes, Magyars, huddling in a corner,
+Fixed from afar their humbled eyes upon thee,
+Like lions, dreading with a helpless fury
+The tamer's hat forgotten in the cage.
+'Twas thus he placed thee, and here lay, as now,
+Weapons and papers. One might say 'twas he
+Had tossed thee carelessly upon the map,
+That this were still his home, this Bonaparte!
+And that by turning, on the threshold--there--
+I should behold the Grenadier on--
+
+ [_He starts on seeing_ FLAMBEAU _standing rigid
+ before the_ DUKE'S _door; he rubs his eyes._]
+
+ Ha!
+No! no! I'm feverish; my _tête-à-tête_
+With the old hat plays havoc with my nerves!
+
+ [_He looks and draws near._ FLAMBEAU _does not
+ move._]
+
+Or have the moonbeams conjured up a spectre?
+What is it, then? Let's see--let's see--let's see!
+
+ [_He strides furiously toward_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+Who are you, fellow?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Presenting his bayonet._]
+
+ Who goes there?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Recoiling._]
+
+ The devil!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Coldly._]
+
+Pass, devil.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_With a forced laugh, coming toward him again._]
+
+ Yes,--a very clever jest,
+But--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Presenting his bayonet again._]
+
+ Who goes there?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Recoiling._]
+
+ But--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Move and you are dead.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+But--I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Quiet!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Let me pass!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The Emperor sleeps!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+What!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Silence!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ I'm the Austrian Chancellor!
+I am all-powerful! I'm--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Shut your mouth!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I want to see the Duke of Reichstadt!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Out!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+How--out?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ What's Reichstadt? Never heard of Reichstadt!
+Auerstadt, Elchingen, they're dukes I know.
+Reichstadt's no duke. There's been no victory there.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+But, we're at Schönbrunn!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I should rather think so!
+Thanks to our new success we're quartered here;
+And here we're getting ready at our leisure
+To give the world another drubbing! See?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+What's that you say? A new success?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Colossal!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+This is July the ninth in Eighteen--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Nine!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Can I be mad?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Who are you? Where d'you spring from?
+Why aren't you snug in bed? It's very fishy--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Who let this braggart pass? The Mameluke?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+The Mameluke?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ All's going to the dogs!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+But--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ You here in the ante-room at night!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+But I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ You calmly cross the Rosa chamber
+Unchallenged by the sentinel on guard!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+What?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ When you ventured through the small rotunda,
+Was there no yatagan to shave your cheek?
+Were there no sergeants in the white saloon
+Brewing their punch upon the golden stove?
+No bristling veterans in the china-room?
+And in the galleries? The Grenadiers
+Saw you come strolling as a matter-of-course?
+A man may cross the oval cabinet
+And not be turned to mince-meat by Duroc?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+The Marshal--?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Is the bulldog turned to lapdog?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I come here--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ So the palace is an inn?
+And when you'd managed all the sentinels,
+Where were the rest? The porter? Gone to bed?
+The valet? Absent? And the secretary?
+Where was he hidden? In his own portfolio?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+But I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Instead of being after you,
+No doubt the Aide-de-Camp was after women!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+But--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And the Moor was saying prayers to Allah?
+At any rate it's lucky I was here.
+What discipline! If he looks into this
+I'll bet my head he'll let the beggars know!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I'm going--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Ah! don't stir! You'll wake him!
+He's sleeping on his little bed of laurels.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Falling into an arm-chair._]
+
+Was never such a dream! 'Twill make an epic!
+
+ [_His hand touches the flame of one of the candles._]
+
+Well, but this candle--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Burns.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Feeling the point of_ FLAMBEAU'S _bayonet._]
+
+ This weapon--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Stings!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Then I'm awake! I'm--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Hold your tongue!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+And what of Waterloo?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Of water--what?
+[_Listening_.]
+
+The Emperor stirred.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ The Emperor?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Oh, my stars!
+Now you turn whiter than a bugler's horse!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+It is the Duke of Reichstadt! I'm not scared!
+It is the Duke! I'm sure of it!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The Emperor!
+
+ [_The_ DUKE _enters, with the reading lamp in his
+ hand_.]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Aha! Tis you! 'Tis you! It is your Highness!
+Ah, but how glad I am!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Puzzled_.]
+ Why are you glad?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+The joke was played so well, I really thought
+Another might come out!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_As if waking from a dream._]
+
+ Faith, so did I!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+What's this?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ My little joke.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Ringing_.]
+
+ Help!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Fly!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The window!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The sentinel will shoot you!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ If he can.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Your livery!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Putting his foot on it._]
+
+ No!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Bah!
+
+ [_Aside to the_ DUKE, _while_ METTERNICH _rings
+ again_.]
+
+ I will seek my cavern.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But I--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The ball to-morrow!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Are you mad?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+You'll find me.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Quiet!
+
+ [FLAMBEAU _goes out by the window._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ If he'd only break
+His neck--He's singing!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_On the balcony._]
+
+ Hush!
+
+FLAMBEAU'S VOICE.
+
+ My little joke!
+
+ [_A shot is heard._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Missed!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ With what ease he finds his way about.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+He knows it; he has been here once before.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To the_ LACKEYS _who show themselves at the door._]
+
+Too late. Begone. I do not need your help.
+
+ [_The_ LACKEYS _disappear._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And not a word of this to the police!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I never raise a laugh against myself.
+What's the importance of a veteran's joke?
+You're not Napoleon?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Who has settled that?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+You have his hat, perhaps, but not his head!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah, yes, an epigram to damp my ardor.
+'Tis not the pin-prick this time, 'tis the lash
+That drives me headlong toward the wildest dreams.
+I've not the head, you say? How do you know?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Takes the candelabrum in his hand and leads the_ DUKE _to the cheval
+glass._]
+
+How do I know? Just glance into this mirror.
+Look at the sullen sadness of your face,
+The grim betrayal of your fair complexion,
+This crushing golden hair--I bid you look!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Struggling to get out of his grasp._]
+
+No!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ You're environed with a fatal mist!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Though you know it not, 'tis Germany,
+'Tis Spain, for ages dormant in your blood,
+Make you so haughty, sorrowful, and charming.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No! no!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Bethink you of your self-distrust!
+You--reign? Come, come! You would be pale and wan;
+One of those timid, introspective kings
+Who are imprisoned lest they abdicate.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No, no!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Not yours the energetic brow!
+Yours is the brow of languor and of yearning.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Shaking, passes his left hand across his brow._]
+
+My--brow?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ And drearily your Highness passes
+Over an Austrian brow a Spanish hand!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+My--hand?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Observe the frail and tapering fingers
+Seen fair and jewelled in long lines of portraits!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ And those eyes through which your ancestors
+Look forth!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The eyes--?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Ay! note them well! The eyes
+Wherein how many eyes we've seen before
+Dream of the fagot, weep for perished squadrons!
+Dare you, whose conscience is so sensitive,
+Ascend the throne of France with eyes like those?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah! but my Father!--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Naught of him is in you!
+Search! Search again! Come closer to the light!
+He stole our ancient blood to mix with his,
+That his might grow more ancient. But he stole
+Only the racial melancholy, and
+The feebleness, and--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I beseech you!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Look!
+Look in the mirror! You turn pale?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Enough!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+And on your lips you recognize the pout
+As of a doll, of Marie Antoinette,
+Her whom your France beheaded; for your Father,
+While stealing glory, stole mishap as well!
+Nay! raise the chandelier!
+
+ [_He forces the chandelier into the_ DUKE'S _right
+ hand, and holds him by that wrist_.]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I am afraid.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+You cannot gaze into this glass at night,
+But all your race will gibber at your back!
+Look--in the gloom--that shade is Mad Johanna,
+And yonder Thing, that moves so deathly slow,
+Is the pale sovereign in his crystal coffin.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No! 'Tis the radiant pallor of my Father!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Yonder, recoiling, Rudolph and his lions!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The clash of steeds and weapons! 'Tis the Consul!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Lo! in a noisome crypt one fashions gold.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+He fashions glory on the sands of Egypt.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Aha! Here's Charles the Fifth, with hair cropped close,
+Dying for having sought self-burial!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Help!
+Father!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ The Escurial! Grisly phantoms
+And frowning walls!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, hither! smiling visions:
+Compiègne and Malmaison!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ You see them! see them!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Roll, drums of Arcola, and drown his voice!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+The mirror's teeming!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Twisting his wrist loose, but still holding the chandelier._]
+
+ I will shatter it!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Others, and others yet, arrive!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Hurling the chandelier into the mirror._]
+
+ 'Tis shattered!
+Not one remains! Not one!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Pointing at the_ DUKE _with a terrible gesture._]
+
+ Yes!--One!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No, no!
+It is not I! Not I!--My Father!--Help!
+
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+[Illustration: decoration of five torches with a hand for the flame.]
+
+
+
+
+THE FOURTH ACT
+
+_The Park at Schönbrunn. Ruins of a Roman Arch in the centre, in front
+of which is a fountain. Entrances on the right and on the left. Towards
+the right, in front, is a pile of stones, parts of columns, a head of
+Neptune, a broken urn, the whole covered with ivy and shrubs.
+Orange-trees in boxes, bearing fruit and blossom, are dotted about, with
+lamps hanging in their foliage. At the rise of the curtain a gay throng
+of_ LORDS _and_ LADIES _in dominos and other disguises are moving about
+the stage._
+
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+Who is the clown?
+
+SECOND MASK.
+
+ Don't know.
+
+THIRD MASK.
+
+ The Cardinal?
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+Don't know.
+
+SECOND MASK.
+
+ The Punchinello?
+
+THIRD MASK.
+
+ I don't know.
+
+FOURTH MASK.
+
+It's too delicious.
+
+FIFTH MASK.
+
+ All incognito.
+
+THE PUNCHINELLO.
+
+[_To a lady in a domino._]
+
+Your ear--
+
+THE DOMINO.
+
+ What for?
+
+THE PUNCHINELLO.
+
+ Ah, hush! My secret!
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+ Watteau--
+
+THE PUNCHINELLO.
+
+[_To another_ DOMINO.]
+
+Your ear--
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+ Would have delighted in these figures--
+
+THE DOMINO.
+
+[_To the_ PUNCHINELLO.]
+
+What for?
+
+THE PUNCHINELLO.
+
+ Ah, hush! My secret!
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+ And these ruins.
+
+ANOTHER MASK.
+
+All is uncertain, tremulous, and vague--
+Our hearts, the music, moonbeams, and the water.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+And so, dear Attaché of the French Embassy,
+Here I've contrived half-darkness and half-silence,
+And yonder in the music and the light
+The ball--
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ It's really--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Rather good, I think.
+This way--
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ You condescend to be my guide?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Dear friend, I'm prouder of this little ball,
+Of having mingled all these courtly perfumes
+With the wild odors of the midnight woods,
+Than ever of the Congress of Verona.
+That is the vestiary and the way out
+So that in leaving you may find at once
+Your Polish mantle or your overcoat.
+Lastly, the theatre which I've contrived
+On yonder bowling-green, near Cupid's fountain,
+Where, in a set-piece made of natural foliage,
+Some princely amateurs will play "Michel
+And"--I don't know--some dainty little piece
+By a French author: Eugène--what's-his-name?
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+And--supper?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Here.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ What?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Every box will blossom
+With snowy tablecloths and golden dishes.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+The orange-trees?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ My own idea. They'll bring
+All they can find. Under each leafy ball
+Two couples will be seated, starved and laughing.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+Supper in short at separate orange-trees?
+Splendid.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Why, yes.--And as for grave affairs--
+
+ [_To a_ LACKEY.]
+
+Tell them to play no more Slavonic dances--
+
+ [_To the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+I do not put them off. Not I. I leave
+
+Ere supper-time to meet the Hospodars--
+They are awaiting me--
+
+[_To a_ LACKEY.]
+
+ Those wreaths are skimpy.
+My hobby's organizing balls like this;
+And when the revelry is at its highest
+Back to the everlasting Eastern Question!
+I love to rule a people and a ball:
+The Arbiter of Europe--
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ And its elegance!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+_Arbiter Elegantiarum!_
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Ah,
+You're talking Latin; you've been drinking?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Rum.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Fanny has kept you very late at table;
+Oh, this _liaison!_ you're as good as lost.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+What? I and Fanny? Off.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ What?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Off.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Seeing the Prefect of Police._]
+
+ Sedlinzky.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+One word.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_To_ METTERNICH.]
+
+ It's off.
+
+ [_To a_ DOMINO.]
+
+ 'Twas wrong to bring you, Fanny.
+If they discovered you! What an imprudence!
+A public dancer!
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Oh, I'll dance discreetly.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+They'll find you out. For heaven's sake be clumsy.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+A plot?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Yes; for the Duke!--and at this ball!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_Lightly_.]
+
+Here! you alarm me!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Be an angel, Fanny,
+And tell me why you wished to come.
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Caprice.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+I fear the Duke no more. I've killed his pride.
+And he's in mourning for it. He'll not come.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+But there's a plot!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Bah!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Women--
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Featherbrains.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+No! Noble ladies.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Really?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Poles and Greeks:
+Princess Grazalcowitch.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Grazalcowitch!
+That's terrible!
+
+ [_To a_ LACKEY.]
+
+ Pray let me have a sandwich.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+You laugh?--Hush!--Here they come. They've fled the light
+And seek a nook to whisper in.
+
+ [_Enter several_ DOMINOS.]
+
+ONE OF THE DOMINOS.
+
+ My dear,
+How sweet it is to run a risk for his sake.
+
+SECOND DOMINO.
+
+Let us conspire!
+
+THIRD DOMINO.
+
+ His hair's such lovely auburn.
+
+FOURTH DOMINO.
+
+It's like a pretty little halo, dear,
+Through which a regal crown is dimly seen.
+
+FIFTH DOMINO.
+
+He has a doubly-fascinating charm:--
+A fair Napoleon! Hamlet dressed in white!
+
+FIRST DOMINO.
+
+Let us conspire!
+
+SECOND DOMINO.
+
+ First, I suggest we order
+A golden bee from Stieger in Vienna.
+
+ANOTHER DOMINO.
+
+Vienna! Why? That _would_ be idiotic!
+We'll have it made by Odiot in Paris.
+
+FOURTH DOMINO.
+
+I move we always wear with every dress
+A very striking bunch of violets.
+
+FIRST DOMINO.
+
+That's it, Princess!
+
+ANOTHER DOMINO.
+
+ And let us risk returning
+To Empire fashions.
+
+SECOND DOMINO.
+
+ For evening: not for day.
+
+THIRD DOMINO.
+
+Dear, don't forget the horrible short waists.
+
+ALL.
+
+And all the puffs!--and ruches!--Dearest!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Ladies--
+
+ALL.
+
+Good heavens!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Go on with your delicious plotting.
+Conspire! conspire! Ha-ha!
+
+ [_He goes out, laughing heartily._]
+
+FIRST DOMINO.
+
+ And now
+That thanks to idle chatter we've removed
+Whatever doubts Sedlinzky had aroused,
+We'll prove that after female Machiavellis
+The Metternichest Metternich's a baby.
+
+ALL.
+
+Yes!
+
+FIRST DOMINO.
+
+ Each remembers what she has to do?
+
+ALL.
+
+Yes!
+
+FIRST DOMINO.
+
+ Mingle with the dances.
+
+SEVERAL MASKS.
+
+[_Pursuing another._]
+
+ He's so funny!
+
+A MASK.
+
+It must be Sandor!
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+ No! it's Fürstenberg!
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+And who's the bear, dancing to Schubert's waltz?
+
+A MASK.
+
+What's sad Elvira's dress? A star?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ A night-light.
+
+A MASK.
+
+Thecla, the hypocrite--?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Disguised as Truth.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+[_Entering with_ THERESA.]
+
+Not gone to Parma, sister?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ No. To-morrow.
+The Duchess put it off to see this ball.
+
+ [_Pointing to a Domino who passes at the back
+ accompanied by a Mask._]
+
+She's yonder with Bombelles: the greenish cape.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+I'm glad you're going, for _Noblesse oblige_;
+I couldn't stand much more of those asides
+Between the little Bonaparte and you.
+
+THERESA.
+
+What?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ 'Tis our glory that our ancestors
+Have not been over-prudish with our kings;
+It is no fall to pick up handkerchiefs
+When on the handkerchief a lily's broidered.
+But honor never will accept a rag
+Which bears the Bonapartist weed and hornet,
+Woe to the Ogre's brat--!
+
+THERESA.
+
+ What!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ If he touched you!
+
+THERESA.
+
+You use expressions, brother--
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ They are warnings.
+
+A BEAR.
+
+[_Passing with a Chinese woman._]
+
+How do you know I am a diplomat?
+
+THE CHINESE WOMAN.
+
+Why, by the skilful way you hide your claws.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+[_Pursuing_ FANNY.]
+
+Is there no way of knowing who you are?
+Now, are you English?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ _Ja._
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Or German?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ _Oui._
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+[_Entering with the_ DUKE.]
+
+My Lord, is not the ball beyond compare?
+
+THE PUNCHINELLO.
+
+[_To a_ DOMINO.]
+
+Your ear--!
+
+THE DOMINO.
+
+ What for?
+
+THE PUNCHINELLO.
+
+ My secret! Hush!
+
+ [_To another_ DOMINO.]
+
+ Your ear!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+This corner's charming, given up to shadows--
+
+THE CHINESE WOMAN.
+
+[_To the_ BEAR.]
+
+What are you carrying on your arm?
+
+THE BEAR.
+
+ My nose-ring.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Charming, those scattered blocks, the broken god,
+The ivied urn, and, in its frame of stone,
+Yonder the water. It is like--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A mirror!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+What had Prince Metternich to say last night?
+
+ [_Seeing the_ DUKE _unmask._]
+
+You take your mask off?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And, alas, that's all
+A stone.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ What for?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ To cast into the pond--
+All's vanished. Only circles on the water.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+You are depressed, and yet to-night the plot
+Must come to a head if I may trust the symptoms.
+These lines were slipped into my hand this morning:
+
+ [_He takes a note out of his pocket._]
+
+"Ask him to be there early, and to wear
+His uniform beneath a violet cloak."
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh, 'twere too criminal--
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ The note--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The note
+Is from a woman anxious not to miss me.
+I've taken her advice, for I am here
+Only for love's adventure.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ No!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ That's all.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+But then--the plot?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, 'twere too criminal,
+Dear country, made of sunshine and of laughter,
+To raise upon the high seat of thy glory
+A child of night, misfortune, and the Escurial!
+What if, when I were seated there, the past,
+Plunging its yellow hands into my soul,
+With hideous claws unearthed some ancestor:
+Some Rudolph or some Philip? Ah! I dread
+Lest at the humming of Imperial bees
+The monster sleeping in me should awake.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+[_Laughing._]
+
+Prince, this is madness!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_With a shudder and a look which makes_ PROKESCH
+_start back with horror._]
+
+ Madness! Do you think so?
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Good heavens!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Buried in their fastnesses,
+Cowering in Bohemia or Castile,
+Each had his madness. What is mine to be?
+Come! We'll decide! You see I am resigned.
+'Tis time to choose--and I have choice enough:
+My thoughtful forebears left a catalogue!
+Shall I be melomaniac or astrologer?
+Catch birds, bend o'er alembics, mumble prayers?
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Too well I see what Metternich has done!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Grandfather, shall I carry on your great
+Herbarium, where the hellebore is missing?
+Or shall I, living, play at being dead?
+Which ancestor will godfather my madness?
+The living-dead, the alchemist, or bigot?
+You see, they took their madness rather sadly,
+But mingled perfumes make a novel scent;
+My brain, mixed of these gloomy brains, may start
+Some pretty little madness of its own.
+Come! What shall my peculiar madness be?
+By heavens! My instincts, conquered till to-day,
+Make it quite simple: I'll be mad with love!
+I'll love and love, and crush, with bitter hate,
+This Austrian lip under a passionate kiss!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Prince!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ As Don Juan I am all my race!
+Snarer of hearts, astrologer of eyes;
+I'll have herbaria full of blighted names,
+And the philosopher's stone I seek is love!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Why, if you think of it, dear friend,
+Napoleon's son, Don Juan, is strict logic.
+The soul's the same: ever dissatisfied;
+The same unceasing lust of victory.
+Oh splendid blood another has corrupted,
+Who, striving to be Cæsar, was not able;
+Thy energy is not all dead within me.
+A misbegotten Cæsar is Don Juan!
+Yes, 'tis another way of conquering;
+Thus I shall know that fever of the heart
+Which Byron tells us kills whom it devours;
+And 'tis a way of being still my father.
+Napoleon or Don Juan!--They're decision,
+The magic will, and the seductive grace.
+When to retake a great unfaithful land,
+Calm and alone, sure of himself and her,
+The adventurer landed in the Gulf of Juan,
+He felt Don Juan's thrill; and when Don Juan
+Pricked a new conquest in his list of loves,
+Did he not feel the pride of Bonaparte?
+And, after all, who knows whether 'tis greater
+To conquer worlds, or be a moment loved?
+So be it? 'Tis well the legend closes thus,
+And that _this_ conqueror is the other's son.
+I'm the fair shadow of the dusky hero,
+And, as he conquered nations, one by one,
+So will I conquer women, one by one.
+Moonbeams shall be my sun of Austerlitz!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Ah, silence! for your irony's too bitter.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh, yes; I know. I hear the spectres crying--
+Blue-coated spectres torn along the whirlwind--
+"Well? What about the Imperial tale of triumph?
+Our toil? our wounds? our glory?--What about
+The snow, the blood, the history, the dead
+We left on all the fields of victory?
+What will you do with these?"--I'll charm the ladies!
+It's fine, among the people in the Prater,
+To ride a horse that cost three thousand florins,
+Which one can christen Jena. Austerlitz
+Is a sure bait to catch a fair coquette.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+You'll never have the heart to use it thus.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Why, yes; why, yes, my friend. And in my scarf--
+For 'tis a thing looks well upon a lover--
+I'll wear a dainty eaglet for a pin.
+There's music!--Now, O Cæsar's son, you're but
+Mozart's Don Juan! Nay, not even Mozart's!
+Strauss's! I'll waltz; for now I must become
+Charming and useless: Austrian fancy-goods!
+My aunt?--Why--!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Oh, not that!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I want to see--
+
+[PROKESCH _goes out_.]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+How deep the linden's perfume is to-night.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Notice my salver. I'm so proud of it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You represent?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ The "Chocolate-girl," the famous
+Picture in Dresden.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Affectedly._] Cha'ming. But your chocolate
+Must be a nuisance.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ No.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Do put it down.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Well, Franz? A little bit in love with life?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Glad to be nephew of a pretty aunt.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+And I am glad to have so big a nephew.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Too pretty.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ And too big.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ For such a game.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+What game?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The game of tender intimacy.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+I fear your eyes to-night--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But I love yours!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Ah, now I see! As all the court is masked,
+Even friendship wears the domino of love.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh friendship--auntie with a cousin's eyes--
+Friendship and love are always much too near
+'Twixt aunts and nephews, god-sons and god-mothers--
+Oh! do but smell the fragrance of the lindens!--
+'Twixt pretty chocolate-girls and officers,
+And frontier incidents are bound to happen.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Our friendship's lost its bloom.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I dearly love
+This sentiment one cannot understand,
+Where all's confused and mingled--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ No, let be.
+
+ [_She moves away._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh, if you put on airs of an Archduchess--!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Farewell; you've pained me deeply, Franz.
+
+ [_She goes._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, bah!
+Into our friendship I let fall a drop,
+And friendship turns to troubled love. I'll wait.
+
+ [_He sees_ THERESA.]
+
+Why! What is this? How comes it you are here?
+So you're not hastening toward the skies of Parma?
+And all this grass? What are you?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ "Little Brooklet."
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah, yes, I know. An exile on his rock,
+My father had a brooklet for his friend
+To drown the gaoler's voice, and that is why
+At Schönbrunn, which is my Saint Helena,
+My soul must not be left deprived of comfort.
+Having the gaoler I've the brooklet too.
+
+THERESA.
+
+But you will never stoop to look at me.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Because I dreamed of flying from my rock;
+But that's all over.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ How?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ All hope is gone.
+I wake from dreams.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ You suffer?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Little Brooklet
+Must give her murmuring freshness.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Here it is.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What if I trouble its waters?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Trouble them.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Come to the little house among the trees--
+My hunting lodge--to-night!
+
+THERESA.
+
+ I am to come--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Say neither yes nor no.--I'll wait--
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Alas!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Think how unhappy I shall henceforth be!
+I've lost all hope of playing a great part;
+I can but weep; I need a heart to weep on.
+Away!
+
+A MASK.
+
+[_Seeing a stout lady dressed as a shepherdess._]
+
+ That shepherdess has eaten her flock!
+
+THE BEAR.
+
+If you'll but love me--
+
+THE CHINESE WOMAN.
+
+ You will sell your skin?
+
+A DOMINO.
+
+[_Passing on_ GENTZ'S _arm_.]
+
+The Viscount's here as Doge in grand dalmatic.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Then is the Baroness the Adriatic.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Who has scribbled a note; to a_ LACKEY.]
+
+This for my lackeys. I shall not come in.
+I'm sleeping at the hunting-lodge. Make haste!
+Let me have word they've read and understood.
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+Nought else, my Lord?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ To-morrow the bay mare.
+
+FANNY ELSSLER.
+
+His uniform beneath a--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Turning._]
+
+ Violet cloak.
+Prokesch! I said your note was from a woman!
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_Pointing to the_ ATTACHÉ, _who has followed her._]
+
+Let me get rid of this importunate mask.
+And I'll come back.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I'll wait. 'Tis fate. I yield.
+I'll love, with stormy April in my heart.
+I'll love--like these--like all!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+[_Who has come in with_ MARIA LOUISA. _She sits on the stone bench._]
+
+ Was he in love?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+What! must you still be harping on him?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Yes.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+My mother and Bombelles--!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Speak!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ I don't know.
+He was intimidated in my presence.
+Even on his throne, beneath his golden laurels,
+He felt his inequality of birth;
+And then, to keep a countenance, he'd call me
+His "Good Louisa." Yes! such shocking taste!
+For I love sentiment. I am a woman.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+And queen of all!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ A little thing I said
+When Saint Aulaire came to my room at Blois
+With news of his disasters, made them furious.
+I was in bed. My naked foot peeped out,
+And, lying on the polished wood, as if
+Thomire had carved it, seemed at once to turn
+The Medicean bed into an Empire bed.
+And seeing the Envoy furtively look down,
+I smiled and said, "You're looking at my foot."
+And so he was. In spite of all misfortunes,
+Indeed the man was looking at my foot.
+Was this coquettish? Well, what of it? Heavens!
+Where was the crime if I remained a woman?
+For, after all, amid the crash of France,
+The beauty of my foot had _some_ importance!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Would I could fly! but I am glued to the spot!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+What's the grey pebble in your bracelet?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ That?
+Ah, I can never see it without tears.
+That is a fragment--
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Of the Pyramids?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+What nonsense! 'Tis a fragment of the tomb
+Where Juliet sleeps beside her Romeo--
+I had this souvenir--
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ For pity's sake
+Don't mention Neipperg!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ If he irritates you,
+Why speak about the first?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ That's different,
+But did you love him?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Whom?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ The--first.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Again?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+So great a man! You must--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Oh, as for that,
+No man is ever loved because he's great.
+Let's talk of him no more: let's talk of us.
+Will you like Parma?
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Tell me, was he jealous?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+So much so that he drove away Leroy,
+Because the poor man-milliner cried out
+With admiration when he saw my shoulders,
+While trying on a peplum.
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Then Napoleon--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Oh, hush!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+ Would not have liked to hear me say
+How fair they are? Would not have liked--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Bombelles!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+To hear me whisper to your Majesty--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Father, forgive me for the things I hear!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+That you are like our own Arlesian maids
+But, ah! how much more beautiful!--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Oh, Charles!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+Would not have liked to see me bend and press---
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Breaking in upon them._]
+
+Not that! I will not have it! I forbid you!--
+Thank God, I'm saved!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Franz!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ For this cry, this movement
+Were not my own. Within me still remains
+A reverence for my mother and her freedom!
+'Twas he--'Twas he by whom my soul's possessed,
+Who sprang upon you with this tragic force!
+Thank God! I'm saved! The Corsican leapt out!
+
+BOMBELLES.
+
+Sir--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Nothing, sir!
+
+ [_To_ MARIA LOUISA.]
+
+ My humble duty, Madam!
+Return to Sala, spend your days in peace.
+The castle has two wings, as I am told:
+One is a theatre and one a chapel.
+Thus dwelling in the middle, you shall feel
+Evenly balanced 'twixt the world and God.
+My humble duty!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Franz!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Why, truly, Madam,
+It's your prerogative to be mere woman.
+Go, be a woman in the Sala palace;
+But tell yourself, Ah! tell yourself--and this
+Shall be your sad atonement for his glory,
+Widow who cast aside her widow's weeds!--
+Tell yourself this: Men only gaze upon you
+For the immortal fame he robed you in,
+And only whisper praises of your beauty
+Because of old he conquered all the world!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+I'll hear no more! Bombelles, let us begone!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Return to Sala. I am saved. Thank God!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Farewell!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ O hands, cold hands within the tomb,
+Sad hands because the Imperial ring slipped from you,
+Hands that have held her brow who years ago
+Shed bitter tears that I was not her son,
+Hands laid in blessing on my orphaned soul,
+Weeping I kiss you, hands of Josephine!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+The Creole! Do you think at Malmaison--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Silence! If it be true, all the more reason!
+All the more reason why I should be faithful!
+
+ [MARIA LOUISA _and_ BOMBELLES _go out_.]
+ [_Enter_ METTERNICH _and_ SEDLINZKY.]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_To_ SEDLINZKY.]
+
+Yes, yes; I humbled that rebellious child!
+
+ [_He sees the_ DUKE.]
+
+You here? And in this uniform? What means?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Were we not asked to come here in--disguise?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+The pride your Excellency broke last night
+Even in its fragments keeps its insolence.
+
+ [_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+What are you dreaming of, far from the ball,
+My little Colonel?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Of my Little Corporal!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+[_On the point of breaking out._]
+
+Oh, I--
+
+ [_Mastering himself._]
+
+ But I must go to my despatches.
+'Tis all to do again!
+
+ [_He and_ SEDLINZKY _go out._]
+ [_Enter_ FANNY ELSSLER.]
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Prince!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No! that woman!
+I will not--!
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_Unmasking._]
+
+ Fly?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Recognising her._]
+
+ Fanny!
+
+FANNY.
+
+ The plot!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What's that?
+
+FANNY.
+
+I'm in it. Let me tell you--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah!
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Look innocent.
+Sit down. Pretend you're very much in love.
+You on the rock. I on the Neptune's head.
+
+ [_Speaking to the stone head_.]
+
+May I sit down, good Neptune?
+
+THE STONE HEAD.
+
+ If you like.
+Only I warn you, it's all over ants.
+
+FANNY.
+
+Lord! Neptune's talking!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Understanding and remembering._]
+
+ Ah! beneath the ivy!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+The entrance to my cavern through an ant-heap.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You! Flambeau!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ In the cave of Rob--
+
+MASKS.
+
+ Ho hi!
+
+FANNY.
+
+Hush! Masks!
+
+MASKS.
+
+ Oh, very funny!
+
+ [_They pass out._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ --inson Crusoe!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What! Since last night?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Oh, yes; I smoke my pipe--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+There in the hole?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ You copied from the beggar
+Who first invented bearskins, so they say,
+And had a funny Mameluke called Friday.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I cannot find the spot.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ It's on the right.
+Here, where I blow a cloud out of my pipe.
+
+FANNY.
+
+The small Vesuvius!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You must be--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Uncomfortable.
+But then--I said you'd find me at the ball.
+
+FANNY.
+
+If they should catch us talking to a smoke!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Ouch!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What's the matter?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ An attack of ants.
+Since yesterday we've had the bloodiest battles.
+
+FANNY.
+
+But--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ They outnumber me, but I've tobacco,
+I blow a blast--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You bring your heavy guns?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+May I lift up my rock a bit?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Seeing_ MASKS _approaching._]
+
+ Nuns!
+
+THE DUKE AND FANNY.
+
+Hush!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Now I look as if I took the air
+On the tomb's balcony.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And in the moon
+Beside the urn, uplifting thus the stone,
+You're rising to the ghostly night-review.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+I'm very hungry.
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Hush!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To some_ SERVANTS _who enter bearing dishes._]
+
+ What's that you carry?
+
+ [_The_ SERVANTS _stop. The_ DUKE _takes a little of
+ everything_.]
+
+Thank you.
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_Stopping them._]
+
+ One moment.
+
+ [_She takes what is left. The_ SERVANTS _pass out._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Giving_ FLAMBEAU _the cakes._]
+
+ Take them.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Enough.
+My strength returns.
+
+ [_To_ FANNY.]
+
+ Explain. We've little time.
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_Nervously._]
+
+Well, then--the Countess--she is here--the Countess--
+That's how my nerve goes when I have to dance--
+She wears beneath a russet cloak your uniform,
+With which the Eaglet's turned into a sea-mew.
+She was already like you in the face,
+But since she's dyed her sable tresses fair
+Your glass could not distinguish you from her.
+So, while they play their "Michel and Christine,"
+You'll change your mantle quickly with your cousin--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Put on a mask--!
+
+FANNY.
+
+ And disappear like magic!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+My double takes my place--
+
+FANNY.
+
+ And openly
+Leaves the assembly--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Sets me free of spies--
+
+FANNY.
+
+Goes home to Schönbrunn--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Locks the door with care--
+
+FANNY.
+
+Forgets to wake--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Till I am miles away.
+Only--
+
+FANNY.
+
+ What "only" is there?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Quite a big one.
+Suppose the false Duke's spoken to?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Impossible.
+It's all stage-managed like a ballet. Ladies
+Will flutter round him, keep intruders off,
+And as a ball from racket flies to racket
+Hell pass from hand to hand until he's safe.
+
+MASKS.
+
+[_Running across at the back._]
+
+Who is the wolf? Wow! Wow! Who is the bear? There! There!
+
+FANNY.
+
+You leave the Gardens--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ By the Hietzing gate--
+
+FANNY.
+
+No.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Where, then?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Listeners. I fan myself.
+Glance at your humble servant's pretty fan.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What for?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ I've drawn a sketch-map of the park.
+Observe the road; it's red; it makes a bend;
+Do you see? The little squares of white are statues;
+The little dots of apple-green are trees;
+Thus you elude the evil-minded spies;
+Turn to the left; pass by the pheasantry--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What are the scratches?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Where the hill goes up.
+Then you go down again; pass by the Triton
+And come out Emperor at this little gate.
+All clearly understood?--I shut my fan.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Emperor!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ That's right. Get out your robes and crown!
+Don't go so fast!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What's at the gate?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ A cab.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+A cab?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ With spanking horses; have no fear.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Where does it take me?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ To the rendezvous.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Where's that?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Out of your way, but so the Countess
+Would have it:--Wagram.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What a Bonaparte!
+
+FANNY.
+
+Well? Are you pleased?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Dear little Tanagra,
+I'll recompense your zeal--
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Ungrateful monster!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And Prokesch?
+
+FANNY.
+
+ He'll be waiting for you there.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The only man whose eye we had to fear--
+Prince Metternich--has left. All will go well.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Metternich gone! You never said a word!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Well--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And you let me catch my death, beneath
+This beastly urn--!
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Masks coming!
+
+MASKS.
+
+ Sandor! Zichy!
+It's Thalberg!--Never!--Thalberg is a Turk!
+It's Cocica!--Not he!--He's fled!--Oh! catch him!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Gone?
+
+THE DUKE AND FANNY.
+
+ Gone.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Emerging, dressed as in the previous act._]
+
+ Then--
+
+THE DUKE AND FANNY.
+
+ Are you mad?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ We'll shut the trap.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But if they see you--!
+
+FANNY.
+
+ Vanish! This is frightful!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What will they say?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I'll tell you what they'll say--
+
+MASKS.
+
+[_Seeing_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+And this one! Oh! a veteran of the Empire!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+Well, there you are, you see! That's what they'll say.
+
+MASKS.
+
+Capital! Capital!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I take my ease.
+
+A MASK.
+
+[_To another._]
+
+Come and admire the veteran!
+
+THE OTHER.
+
+ First rate!
+
+THIRD MASK.
+
+Look at his earrings!
+
+FOURTH MASK.
+
+ And his bushy eyebrows!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+But how shall I get out without a cloak?
+
+FANNY.
+
+Here's Gentz's ticket: such a handsome mantle.
+
+A MASK.
+
+Hail, Veteran!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The honor's mine.
+
+ [_The_ USHER _enters, followed by_ SERVANTS _who
+ push on orange-trees, the boxes laid as tables._]
+
+THE USHER.
+
+ Make room!
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+[_Who took the_ DUKE'S _note._]
+
+They understand, my Lord. The hunting-lodge.
+
+FANNY.
+
+What's that?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I had forgotten. I gave orders--
+I was to spend the night there. Warn the Countess.
+Run! Run and say 'tis thither she must go!
+
+ [FANNY _goes out quickly._]
+
+[Illustration: The Duke de Reichstadt
+
+Francesco Duc de Reichstadt]
+
+A MASK.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+Well, Sergeant? So you served--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ The gr-reat--
+
+SEVERAL MASKS.
+
+[_Laughing._]
+
+ The gr-reat!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+They didn't laugh when we were quartered on 'em!
+
+EXCLAMATIONS.
+
+A picture by Raffet!--Charlet!--Vernet!
+
+SEVERAL MASKS.
+
+How worn his coat is!--And how singed!--And dusty!--
+Who's your costumier?--Tell us!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ They are ladies:--
+The ancient firm of War and Victory Sisters.
+
+A MASK.
+
+That's good.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ It's not the firm you patronize.
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+I'll swear it's Zichy.
+
+ _Offering his hand._]
+
+ Count, your hand.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Blowing a puff of smoke in his face._]
+
+ Get out.
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+[_Going out, to the others._]
+
+He's masked his language as he's masked his face.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Singing._]
+
+ When we marched to Krasnoï,
+ Cold and hungry, too, were we!
+
+A MASK.
+
+He's really excellent. In Russia, old 'un,
+'Twas pretty cold?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Yes; till we gave 'em hell.
+
+ [_Sings._]
+
+ By Jingo, but it keeps you warm
+ Merely to see his uniform!
+
+A MASK.
+
+His uniform wants patching now, though; what?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+So did your breeches when he'd kicked you; what?
+
+SEVERAL.
+
+Ha! Very funny!
+
+FIRST MASK.
+
+ Natural.
+
+SECOND MASK.
+
+ Exact.
+
+THIRD MASK..
+
+But doubtful taste.
+
+THE USHER.
+
+ The comedy's begun!
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+I'm back again. The Countess understands.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+Will you accept a veteran's arm?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ No.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Why?
+
+THERESA.
+
+I'm leaving, sir. Apart from that, I'm French,
+And see no humor in a parody
+Of heroes whom by chance you conquered.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ You--
+Ah! I adore you!
+
+ [_She runs away. Just as she is disappearing the_
+ DUKE _makes a movement toward her._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah!--the tryst.
+
+THERESA.
+
+ The tryst--?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No--nothing.
+
+ [THERESA _passes on._]
+
+ She must keep it. She must show
+Whether she would have been sublimely weak,
+And given herself unthinking--without hope--
+Only because she saw me sad to-night.
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+Watch where they've got to in the comedy.
+
+ [FLAMBEAU _goes to the entrance of the theatre._]
+
+ [_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+The time has come.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ All eyes are running over
+With grief for Stanislas, the mournful Pole.
+
+FANNY.
+
+Here is the Countess, Duke.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ My very image!
+I'm coming toward myself as in a glass.
+
+ [_The_ COUNTESS CAMERATA _enters, dressed exactly
+ like the_ DUKE, _with the exception of her
+ cloak, which is brown._]
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+Well met, Napoleon!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And Napoleone!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+I'm very calm--and you?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I see the risks
+You'll run for my sake.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Not for your sake.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+No! For the name, the glory, and our blood!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You bravely clash your arms, fair Amazon!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+The deed were nothing, were it done for love.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Speaking of love, if, when you've taken my place
+In yonder hunting-lodge, by any chance
+A woman came--
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Ah! I felt sure of it!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Tell her about my flight--and swear to me--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_At the entrance to the theatre, describing the play._]
+
+The soldier holds his tongue!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Good.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Doesn't murmur.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Swear you will tell me later if she comes.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+Thinking of hearts, when Empire is at hand!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It is because I mount a throne to-morrow
+I lay such value on a heart to-night.
+O God! to feel respect in every kiss,
+Snares in avowals, in embraces dread,
+And in fair eyes, more dazzled than in love,
+See laurel-wreaths about me as on coins!
+I was to pluck my last real love to-night!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_As before._]
+
+He's telling them about his pocket-book.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I would she kept this white and spotless tryst,
+She who has not yet studied to dissemble;
+'Twere well she came, for nevermore, perchance,
+Whatever later trysts I yet may keep,
+Shall I be waiting with such eager love,
+As at the tryst to-night I may not keep.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+I find your Highness very deeply stirred.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Less than I shall be if you say "She came."
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_As before._]
+
+We must make haste, for with his eyes turned up,
+He's singing something to his colonel.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Change!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Wait for the signal. Have no fear; I'm watching.
+Attention! By the magic of my wand!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+Think well! Perhaps you turn him into Cæsar!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+That's why my wand is fashioned of a ramrod.
+
+ [_Noise of people leaving the theatre._]
+
+They're coming! Now!
+
+ [_The_ DUKE _and the_ COUNTESS _exchange cloaks._]
+
+MASKS AND DOMINOS.
+
+ [_Entering._]
+
+ They've dressed the orange-trees!
+
+ALL.
+
+Oh!
+
+FANNY.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE, _pointing to the_ COUNTESS.]
+
+ There's our swarm of women buzzing round him.
+
+LADIES.
+
+[_Around the false_ DUKE.]
+
+Prince!--Duke--! My Lord--! Your Highness--!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ No one else
+Has any chance to-night!
+
+CRIES.
+
+[_From the tables._]
+
+ Sandor! Zichy! Mina!
+
+THE DOMINO CALLED MINA.
+
+How did you know me?
+
+A MASK.
+
+ By your opal necklace.
+
+ANOTHER MASK.
+
+We'll gather oranges for our dessert.
+
+A LADY.
+
+[_To the false_ DUKE.]
+
+Duke--
+
+MASKS.
+
+ Danube sterlets! Caviar from the Volga!
+
+[_All are seated._]
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Rising, glass in hand._]
+
+Ladies and gentlemen--
+
+ALL.
+
+ Hear! Hear!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Now comes
+The trying moment.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ I have filled this bumper
+In honor--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ She is going--
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Of our friend,
+Who, having organized the feast, has left us
+Amid the music, flowers, delicious ices,
+To toil till dawn dictating his despatches.
+
+FANNY.
+
+How well she imitates your careless stride!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+To the Prince-chancellor, Counsellor, Chamberlain,
+Ladies and gentlemen, drain brimming glasses!
+Metternich, Austrian Prince, Grandee of Spain,
+Duke of Portella, Lord of Daruvar--
+
+FANNY.
+
+She's coming forward! Look how calm she is!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Knight of Saint Ann--
+
+FANNY.
+
+ He helps us with his chatter,
+And doesn't know it.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Knight o' the Swedish Seraphs,
+The Danish Elephant, the Golden Fleece--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+If Nepomuk has one or two more titles--
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Curator of the Fine Arts, Czechish Magnate--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+She's overdoing it: I move more quickly.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Bailiff of Malta--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ha! She stops!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Grand Cross
+Of Charles the Third, the Falcon, Bear, and Lion--
+Phew--!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_To the_ LADY _seated next to_ GENTZ.]
+
+ He's fainting! Fan him quickly, someone!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+Fellow of all the Academies on earth--!
+
+ALL.
+
+Hurrah!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And while they clash their glasses, Prince,
+She's starting--she has started--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_To the false_ DUKE.]
+
+ Franz! Not going?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+All's lost!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Damnation!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+[_To the false_ DUKE.]
+
+ Wait!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The Archduchess
+Knew nothing of the plot--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ You grieved me, Franz;
+Just now you--
+
+ [_She recognises the_ COUNTESS.]
+
+ Ah!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ All's lost.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ But--
+
+ [_Offering her hand to the_ COUNTESS.]
+
+ Well, good-night.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+Ah, Madam--How--?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Why don't you kiss my hand?
+
+ [_The_ COUNTESS _goes out._]
+
+A MASK.
+
+The Duke already gone?
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+ He's whimsical.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Meaningly, to the_ ARCHDUCHESS.]
+
+Your hand--as to the Duke?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Yes, gentle mask.
+
+GENTZ.
+
+And now--
+
+SEVERAL.
+
+ Again?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ One word---
+
+VOICES.
+
+ Oh, go ahead!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+I wanted to complete my little toast,
+But while the Duke was here I couldn't name
+The proudest title Metternich can boast of;
+But now we're rid of him, I have the honor:--
+Ladies and gentlemen, here's the destroyer
+Of Bonaparte!
+
+ALL.
+
+ Hurrah!--To the Destroyer!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+What are you doing?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Who is pouring his wine into his gun-barrel_.]
+
+ Lest it might go off!
+
+A MASK.
+
+This Bonaparte--
+
+SECOND MASK.
+
+ Wasn't marble.
+
+THIRD MASK.
+
+ Stucco.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Have a care! An Empire is at stake!
+
+A MASK.
+
+Much overpraised--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Take care!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ A middling soldier,
+But then he rode a camel while in Egypt;
+What more do you want?
+
+A MASK.
+
+ Gentz imitates him.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Lord!
+
+ANOTHER MASK.
+
+Do it!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+ Remember, you're not here at all!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_Arranging his hair, and striking the conventional attitude._]
+
+Curl--eye--hand--There!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Old fool!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ He mocks him, yet
+Even the mockery's great, for it evokes him.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+You know he used to tumble off his horse?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+That's what the Ultras always said about him.
+
+A MASK.
+
+His talk was poor.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Go on!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, that's the rule.
+What could these worms and insects talk about
+If they had not the eagle to abuse?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+His name was not Napoleon at all.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+What!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ That was manufactured. It's so simple!
+You want to make a sounding name--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ You idiot!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+Which shall creep into history by and by:
+Take three bright, simple vowels: Na--po--le--
+And add a nasal sound: On--
+
+A MASK.
+
+ Wonderful!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+Yes: Na--po--le, the lightning; On, the thunder.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+That's all!
+
+A MASK.
+
+ What was his name?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ What? Don't you know?
+
+A MASK.
+
+Why, no.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ His name was Nicholas.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Bursting out._]
+
+ Be damned!
+
+SEVERAL MASKS.
+
+[_Laughing._]
+
+Bravo the Veteran!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+ Nicholas!--Have a quail.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Taking the dish._]
+
+But Nicholas was good at winning battles.
+
+A MASK.
+
+And what a funny court he scraped together!
+
+SECOND MASK.
+
+If you talked titles, pedigrees, precedence,
+There wasn't a soul who had a word to say.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Wasn't Cambronne at Court to say the word?
+
+A MASK.
+
+But--in war--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Oh--!
+
+SECOND MASK.
+
+ What did he do?
+
+ANOTHER MASK.
+
+ Why, wrote reports.
+
+A MASK.
+
+And always stood about on distant hills.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+By God--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Hush!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ Once a ball was good enough
+To wound him in the foot at Ratisbon:
+Enough to make a subject for a picture.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+Be calm--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Be calm--!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Just take away this knife.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+In short--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ He'd best be careful what he says.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+You must put up with it!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Not for an Empire!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+In short this hero was--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Take care! Take care!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+He was a coward.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh!
+
+THE FRENCH ATTACHÉ.
+
+ No! That's a lie!
+
+ALL.
+
+Eh? What?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ What's that?
+
+ALL.
+
+ Who spoke?
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ I love a quarrel!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Aha! Thank God, there was a man among them!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+Who dared--?
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ I dared, sir!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ He's the Attaché
+Of the French Embassy.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ _You_ challenge _me!_
+You represent the King, sir!
+
+GENTZ.
+
+ Quite amusing!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+The King is not in question, but my country.
+You are insulting France, when you insult
+The man she loved through many glorious years.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+Buonaparte--
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Please say Bonaparte.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+Well, Bonaparte--
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ The Emperor!
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ Your card?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Who has disappeared for a moment, and has come back cloaked._]
+
+Come! I've got Gentz's cloak. It's lined with fur.
+
+ [TIBURTIUS _and the_ ATTACHÉ _have exchanged
+ cards_. TIBURTIUS _steps forward and nervously
+ lights a cigar._]
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+[_To a_ LACKEY.]
+
+A light.
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+ You hate the Corsican?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ What's that?
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+Your sister loves his son. Would you surprise them?
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+When?
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+ Now.
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ Where?
+
+THE LACKEY.
+
+ Where I know--
+
+TIBURTIUS.
+
+ Wait for me here.
+Austria shall be relieved.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Placing his hand on the_ ATTACHÉ'S _shoulder._]
+
+ I thank you, sir.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+[_Turning._]
+
+What for, sir?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Hush.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ The Duke!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A plot.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Amazement!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I've nothing but my secret. Now it's yours.
+We meet to-night at Wagram. _Be_ there.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ I!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Are you not one of us?
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ I am the King's.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But you're to fight a duel for my Father.
+And so we're somewhat brothers. Fare-you-well.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+You hope to win me?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I am sure to win you.
+Did not my Sire win Philippe de Ségur?
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+To-morrow I return to France. I warn you--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You are a future Marshal of the Empire.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+I warn you, if my regiment meets yours
+I shall not hesitate to fire.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Of course not.
+Shake hands before we cut each other's throats.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+If you have any messages for Paris,
+I get there on the fourth; I should be happy--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I hope to be there, sir, ahead of you.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+Yet, if I reach the--kingdom--ere you come?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Salute for me the Column of Vendôme!
+
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE FIFTH ACT
+
+_The battle-field of Wagram. Night. A small hill running off toward the
+left. A sign-post stands on the hill._
+
+_The_ DUKE _is standing on the summit of the hill gazing across the
+battle-field_. PROKESCH _and_ FLAMBEAU _are talking together in
+undertones near the front._
+
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+WAGRAM!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Dreaming._]
+
+"My son shall reign--a mighty sovereign--"
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Capital bit of country for the harvest.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+"His task to foster whatsoe'er is good."
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+What solemn prayer is he reciting?
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Hush!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+"Complete my work, and not avenge my death--
+All patriots--"
+
+ [_To_ PROKESCH.]
+
+ The horses?
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ No, not yet.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+"He would but ape me, if he made great wars--"
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+He is rehearsing all his Father's counsels.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Hush!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ "He shall scorn all parties--"
+
+ [_To_ PROKESCH.]
+
+ Well? The horses.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Too soon, my Lord.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Like an impatient lover
+I've come too early to my tryst with France.
+
+ [_He takes a few strides and finds himself in front
+ of a sign-post._]
+
+Their sign-post! Is it true that I shall move
+Unhindered by their hideous black and yellow?
+How good to read upon the gleaming white
+"Road to Saint Cloud" instead of "Grosshofen."
+Grosshofen? Now I think of it, I ordered
+My regiment to Grosshofen at dawn.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+What!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes; I gave the order yesterday,
+Before I knew.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ We shall be far away.
+
+ [_An old man comes out of the cottage._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Who's that?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ He's ours. His hut our meeting-place.
+Old soldier. Shows the battle-field to strangers.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+There--on the left--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ No, thanks. I know it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Why
+Does he serve us?
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+ I was dying yonder;
+The great Napoleon passed--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ He always rode
+Over a battle-field.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+ The Emperor stopped
+And had me cared for by his leach--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ivan.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+So, if his son is weary of Vienna,
+I'll help him go.--My arm--before his eyes!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+It isn't everybody has the honor
+Of having limbs off in Napoleon's presence.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+'Twas war-time; so we fought.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ We died.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+ _We_ died.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+We marched.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+ _We_ marched.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ We fired into the haze.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+_We_ fired.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Some grimy officer rode up.
+And roared, "We've conquered!"
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+ So he roared to us.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+What?--So he did.
+
+ [_Pointing to the_ DUKE.]
+
+ Suppose he heard!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I hear.
+
+THE OLD MAN.
+
+Bah! My geraniums flourish.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Shouldn't wonder.
+For on this spot eleven drummer-boys--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Eleven drummer-boys--?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I see them now!
+Eleven bullet-heads, as like as peas,
+Between the flapping of their foolish ears,
+Who marched, they knew not whence, nor why, nor whither,
+But gayly marched and rolled their rataplan!
+We used to chaff them, for their funny ways
+Made them the darlings of the sutler's wife.
+But when they beat the charge like little rabbits--
+Eleven drums with two-and-twenty sticks--
+They set our bayonets thrilling with their thunder;
+The quivering zigzags seemed to cry aloud,
+"Our lightning's not in vain!"--Well, on this spot,
+A brazen devil hiccoughed fire and steel
+And took them in the flank; yes! all the eleven!
+But, by the Lord! you should have seen the woman!
+She gathered up her apron like a gleaner,
+And madly gleaned the little ebony drumsticks.
+
+ [_He clears his throat._]
+
+Only to speak of it gives me a cold--!
+
+ [_He picks a red geranium._]
+
+Here's how to make a mere geranium
+A ribbon of the Legion: keep one petal.
+What? You look well upon my velvet lining?
+
+ [_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+Is this what you bestowed upon me, Sire?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I gave a phantom--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ And I wear a flower!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Seeing the conspirators enter._]
+
+Those shadows--?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ Friends.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Turning._]
+
+ Marmont?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ Good luck, my Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Why do the others stand so far away?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Because they fear they may disturb your Highness,
+And, Sire, you are already Emperor!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The word strikes strangely on my wondering ear--
+The Emperor! What Emperor is here?
+ This youth of twenty on the throne?
+As through a casement now myself I see
+Pass down the shouting street; 'tis good to be
+ Young, and the first Napoleon's son!
+All Notre Dame invades my dreaming soul,
+I see the incense, hear the organ roll,
+ A nation offers up a prayer!
+God! what great causes may be served by kings!
+How they can love! Achieve what righteous things!
+ Prokesch, the Future shows too fair!
+O France, who with thy blood didst write our name,
+With happy days I will repay the fame;
+ I come, triumphant in my pride.
+Sun on my flags; the air with shouts is rent.
+The Champs Elysées, with their chestnut scent,
+ Waft me fair welcome as I ride.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+The women stand on chairs to see your face,
+Each the fair symbol of Parisian grace,
+ The guns in wreaths of flowers are dressed;
+Fierce Paris madly hails your sovereignship.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It were like kissing France upon the lip
+ If Paris took me to her breast.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+And you will hear the sufferer's complaint;
+Do you not feel your hand already faint
+ Signing so many an amnesty?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The lies they've told me make the truth more dear,
+Oh, Freedom, Freedom, thou hast nought to fear
+ From one so late from bonds set free!
+What can I do to foster noble aims?
+Treviso, Montebello, these are names
+ Their sons inherit without fear,
+But other names are glorious, and since
+My Father would have made Corneille a Prince
+ I'll make our Victor Hugo Peer!
+I'll do--I'll do--I'll be the poor man's shield!
+The heroic savour, rising from this field,
+ Gives me a foretaste of my home;
+Wagram! 'Twas well I hither came to drain
+The stirrup-cup upon thy glorious plain!
+ Oh, my beloved France!--I come--!
+Ah--!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ What is it?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Nothing.
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ You are suffering!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yes, to the marrow, but a gallop cures me.
+Stars twinkle in the skies like golden rowels.
+Here are the steeds, and we're to ride to France!
+Embrace me, friend!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ Emotion strangles me.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Brother!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, hush!--The saddle-girth!--
+Oh, it's delicious to escape on horseback
+Through such a night, in dancing-pumps!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+[_To_ MARMONT, _pointing to the Conspirators._]
+
+ Those youths--
+Why have they come?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ Why, that the world may know
+They also were conspirators!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A whip!
+
+A CONSPIRATOR.
+
+[_Introducing himself to the_ DUKE.]
+
+The Viscount of Otranto--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Fouché's son!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+No matter now.
+
+ [_Arranging the horse._]
+
+ The stirrup long?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No; short.
+
+SECOND CONSPIRATOR.
+
+[_Bending low to the_ DUKE.]
+
+Goubeaux, the Countess Camerata's agent.
+Your humble servant Goubeaux--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Very well.
+
+GOUBEAUX.
+
+[_Bowing once more._]
+
+The Countess's chief agent.
+
+THIRD CONSPIRATOR.
+
+[_Advancing eagerly._]
+
+ Pionnet--
+I'm Pionnet. I represent King Joseph;
+On his behalf I brought the subsidies.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ FLAMBEAU, _busy with the horse._]
+
+Only the snaffle--
+
+FOURTH CONSPIRATOR.
+
+ I arranged the guides
+And relays, and at yonder village, Sire,
+Disguises--Morchain.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ All right, Whatsyourname.
+
+FOURTH CONSPIRATOR.
+
+Morchain!
+
+FIFTH CONSPIRATOR.
+
+ I got the passports. Thankless task!
+See how the seals are forged! Guibert.
+
+ALL.
+
+[_Each mentioning his name._]
+
+ Goubeaux--
+Morchain--Otranto--Pionnet--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ We know.
+
+ONE OF THE CONSPIRATORS.
+
+Your Father had a memory for names.
+
+SIXTH CONSPIRATOR.
+
+[_Hurrying up._]
+
+Borowski, Sire! It was my glorious task
+To hire the uniform the Countess wears!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Enough! Enough! I shall remember all,
+And best of all the one who has not spoken!
+Your name?
+
+ [_The man spoken to turns, and the_ DUKE _recognises
+ the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+ What! _You_ here!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Not as partisan.
+Only as friend. Indeed no slight occasion
+Was needed--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+ Mount!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The dawn is in the east,
+I seize the reins, and--_Alea jacta est!_
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+My Lord, if I have sought this rendezvous,
+'Twas to defend you--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ To defend me, sir?
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+I feared you were in danger--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Danger?--What?
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+The rogue Tiburtius, whom I hope to pink,
+Sneaked from the ball and never sent his seconds,
+So I ran after him, and saw him meet
+Another rogue, and heard the two conspire
+To kill you at some rendezvous.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The Countess!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+The rendezvous was here, as you had told me.
+I came. All's well. I go.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The rendezvous
+Was in the hunting-lodge. They'll kill the Countess!
+We must go back!
+
+ALL.
+
+ No! No!
+
+A CONSPIRATOR.
+
+ Oh, why?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ The Countess--?
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+She can unmask.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Alas, you little know her.
+She'd die ten times to let me win ten minutes.
+Come back!
+
+VOICES.
+
+ No!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But I cannot--Ah, come back!--
+I cannot let them kill her in my absence!
+
+OTRANTO.
+
+Our efforts wasted!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ If we re-conspire
+They will not let you fly.
+
+ANOTHER CONSPIRATOR.
+
+ And France?
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+ The Empire?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Back!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ Forward!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Back!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ You cast away the crown!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+To leave her were to cast my soul away!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+One sometimes has to sacrifice--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ A woman?
+
+MARMONT.
+
+Risk--for a woman--all the chance of triumph--!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+He's a French Prince! That's certain, anyhow!
+
+OTRANTO.
+
+We must abduct him!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Back!
+
+OTRANTO.
+
+ My coach is here.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+I'll run you through the body if you touch him!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Back! or with whip uplifted I will charge
+After the fashion of Murat, my uncle!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+Stand back!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Help, Prokesch!
+
+VOICES.
+
+ We shall have to force him.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+And you, who say you came in my defence,
+It is by robbing me of faith and scruple,
+They would assassinate me truly! Now, defend me!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+No, Sire! begone!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What, _you!_ this base advice?
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+Go, Sire, I will defend the woman.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You?
+You cannot.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Not as partisan; as friend.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+It would ensure my flight.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Begone, my Lord.
+Whate'er I do is for the Countess.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes,
+But I--
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+ I'll lead him.
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Prokesch knows the way.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Still hesitating._]
+
+I cannot--
+
+VOICES.
+
+ Yes!
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ The better way!
+
+VOICES.
+
+ Begone.
+
+THE COUNTESS CAMERATA.
+
+[_Entering, still in her disguise._]
+
+Unhappy boy! Not gone!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You!--but they told me--
+How could I go?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ On horseback.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But your life--!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+A woman's life! What loss would that have been?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But--
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ You should have abandoned me.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But think!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+Think of the time you've lost!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Your risks--?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ What risks?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And all our fears on your behalf--
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ What fears?
+Was not your Flambeau, there, my fencing-master?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The man--?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Begone!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ What did you do?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Oh, nothing.
+Of course he drew his sword, and I drew mine.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You fought for me!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ "I did not know," he muttered,
+"The Corsican's son had so much skill, I think
+He knew it not himself"--But then my voice--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh! You are wounded!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Scratched across the fingers.
+My voice betrayed me. Back he sprang! "A woman!"
+"Defend yourself!" said I, "I should be laughed at,
+For you are not the Chevalier d'Eon!"
+"Defend yourself, I'm a Napoleon!"
+Feeling my blade slip snake-like over his,
+He lunges, and I make--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Our secret stroke!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+One! Two!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ That must have been a rough surprise!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+'Twas a surprise from which he'll not recover.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Heavens! And the girl--!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ What does she matter now?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+But, did she come?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Well--No, then! When the door
+Was broken open by a furious fist,
+I was alone. She had not come.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ That's well.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+But servants came; and if I were arrested
+All would be known too soon. I lost my head.
+I stumbled out. I heard I know not whom
+Sending to fetch the Prefect of Police;
+And so I fled upon your saddle-horse.
+I've killed it--I'm exhausted--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Look! She swoons!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+After what I had done I hoped at least
+To hear from witnesses that you were gone!
+
+A CONSPIRATOR.
+
+You were pursued--And in a moment--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Take care of her. Conceal her in the hut.
+
+A CONSPIRATOR.
+
+Yes.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Go!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ But are you better?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Not yet gone?
+For God's sake, go! Ah! could your Father see you
+Waiting, enfeebled, tender, hesitating,
+With what contempt he'd shrug his epaulettes!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Good-bye!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ We're caught! Too late!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Entering with police officers; he advances to the_
+COUNTESS, _whom he mistakes for the_ DUKE.]
+
+ Too late, my Lord.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+[_Furiously, to the_ DUKE.]
+
+Ah, Temporizer! Dreamer! Cold Idealist!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Who has turned to the person addressed by the_ COUNTESS
+_and recognized the_ DUKE, _starts, and, addressing
+him._]
+
+Your Highness--
+
+ [_He turns to the_ COUNTESS.]
+
+ Your High--
+
+ [_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+ Your High--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ He's puzzled!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+So that's it!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ You've been drinking. You see double.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Count Prokesch, I must ask you to retire.
+
+ [PROKESCH _exit._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+We shan't be crowned just yet by Uncle Fesch!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_Indicating the_ ATTACHÉ.]
+
+Lead off this gentleman. You, sir, in this?
+Your Government shall hear of it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I swear
+He was not of the plot!
+
+THE ATTACHÉ.
+
+ Forgive me, Sire,
+Since they're arresting us I take my share.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To the_ ATTACHÉ, _as he is led off._]
+
+Good-bye, then.
+
+ [_To_ SEDLINZKY.]
+
+ Now, policeman, show your zeal.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_To his men, pointing to the_ COUNTESS.]
+
+Take the false Prince wherever--she--belongs.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Haughtily._]
+
+With all the honors due to me!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ That voice!
+Ah, hapless child! You would have made a leader!
+
+ [_She is led off._]
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+As for the rest, we'll shut our eyes: _Verb. sap._
+
+A CONSPIRATOR.
+
+I think--
+
+MARMONT.
+
+ To serve the cause--
+
+ANOTHER CONSPIRATOR.
+
+ We'd better go.
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+Reserve our strength--
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+ For later--
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+ Bide our time.
+
+ [_All disappear._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To_ SEDLINZKY.]
+
+Open your eyes again. Here's one more left.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Oh, fly for my sake!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Yours?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_To a policeman._]
+
+ 'Tis he!
+
+POLICEMAN.
+
+ Perhaps.
+Wanted in Paris.
+
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ How can we make sure!
+
+ [_The_ POLICEMAN _hands him a paper, which he
+ reads._]
+
+"Nose ordinary, eyes ordinary,
+Mouth ordinary--" Extraordinary!
+
+ [_Watching_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+Two bullets in his--back.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ A lie!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Of course.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+I'm lost. All right; I'll have my little joke,
+And deck myself in flowers ere dropping out.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+You answer to the name of Seraph Flambeau.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+No, sir! That name's not good enough to die with.
+I'll be drum-major in the Dance of Death;
+Not merely Seraph, nor Flambeau, the torch.
+I broaden! I'm Archangel Chandelier!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Will you deliver him to France?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Yes.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Like a thief?
+You have no right, sir--!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ But we'll take it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Heavens!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+'Twas getting past a joke that I should never
+Be present when they wanted to behead me.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Also his decoration is illegal.
+Take off that ribbon!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Take it. But it grows
+As often as I choose on my old hide.
+
+ [_Unseen by the others he stabs himself._]
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Take off his cloak!
+
+ [_When the cloak is removed, the spot of blood
+ shows like the ribbon of the Legion of Honor
+ on_ FLAMBEAU'S _shirt._]
+
+ What's that?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Looks rather well!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+Come! Make an end!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+ My Lord, this leaves me not
+Till death!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ What! He has pinned another on!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+You cannot make an end! I've pinned another;
+And when that's gone, another, and another!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+What will they do?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ What did they do to Ney?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Impossible--!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ A little firing-party--
+Rrrrrr!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I always laughed at bullets;
+But French ones? Never! None of that, Lisette!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You will not give him up?
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Without delay!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Seraph, your wings are clipped; good-night, my friend!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+March!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Look! He staggers! Flambeau!--Look!
+
+POLICEMAN.
+
+ He's falling!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_On his knees; knocking off the policeman's hat_.]
+
+The Duke is speaking! Take that stovepipe off!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Flambeau, you've killed yourself!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ No! I've pinned on
+An everlasting ribbon of the Legion!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I'll not allow one of your men to touch him:
+What! the clean soldier touched by soiled policemen!
+Leave us alone together. Go!--Begone!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+My Lord--!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_To a policeman, pointing to the old man of the hut._]
+
+ Lead off that peasant.
+
+ [_The old man is led off._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I'll await
+My regiment. 'Tis summoned here at dawn.
+The standards shall salute him, and the drums,
+And my own soldiers shall uplift his body.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+[_To a policeman._]
+
+Where are the horses?
+
+THE POLICEMAN.
+
+[_Aside to him._]
+
+ Gone.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ Then let him be.
+
+[_To the_ DUKE.]
+
+Highness, we cede.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Begone!
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ I understand--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I turn you out.
+
+SEDLINZKY.
+
+ My Lord!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I turn you out!
+For on the field of Wagram I'm at home!
+
+[SEDLINZKY _and the policeman go._]
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+It's funny, all the same, that on this field
+Where I was wounded for the Father, now
+I perish for the son.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ No! not for me!
+It is for him: I am not worth your death.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+For him?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ For him! This is the field of Wagram.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Ah, yes!--I die--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Do you not recognize
+Wagram, the field, the hill, the pointed steeple?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Yes!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Do you see the Austrian cannon yonder
+All painted yellow, belching fire and smoke?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+The battle--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Do you hear the noise of it?
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+I die at Wagram! Ah! I die at Wagram!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Do you not see the wounded horse rush by,
+Dragging his slaughtered rider by the stirrups?
+We are at Wagram! 'Tis a solemn moment.
+Davoust has come to turn Neusiedel's flank;
+The Emperor has raised his little spy-glass;
+You have been wounded by a bayonet,
+And I have brought you to this little hill.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+But the light cavalry? Haven't they charged?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Yonder the blue, striped with white shoulder-belts:
+Those are the Infantry.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ With General Reille!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The Emperor should send Oudinot to help!
+He lets his left be crushed!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ Ah! that's his cunning!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+They fight! They fight! Macdonald hastens up,
+And wounded Massena drives slowly by.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+If the Archduke deploys his right he's lost.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+All's well!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ They fight?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The Prince of Auersburg
+Is taken by the Polish Lancers of the Guard.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+The Emperor? What's the Emperor doing?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Watching.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Is the Archduke caught in the little 'un's trap?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The distant dust-cloud yonder is Nansouty.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+Has the Archduke not yet deployed his right?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The smoke is Lauriston--
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ But the Archduke?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Now he deploys his right.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ His goose is cooked.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Here come the guns!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+ I thirst!--I stifle--Drink!
+What--is--the--Emperor doing?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ With a smile
+He shuts his little spy-glass.
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_Closing his eyes._]
+
+ Victory!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Flambeau!
+
+ [_He looks at him, and moves away a little._]
+
+ This dying soldier frightens me.
+Yet 'tis not strange a dying grenadier
+Should fall asleep upon this field of glory.
+The field is well acquainted with his likes.
+
+[_He bends over him and cries._]
+
+Yes! Victory! The soldiers toss their shakos!
+
+FLAMBEAU.
+
+[_In his death-rattle._]
+
+I thirst--!
+
+DISTANT VOICES.
+
+ I thirst!--I thirst!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Shuddering._]
+
+ What are those echoes?
+
+A VOICE.
+
+I thirst--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ O God!
+
+THE SAME VOICES.
+
+[_Very distant._]
+
+ I die--I die!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_With horror._]
+
+ His voice
+Reverberates beneath the lurid sky.
+
+THE VOICES.
+
+I die--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I understand! His cries of death
+Are, for this vale which knows them all by heart,
+As the first measures of a well-known song.
+The plain takes up the moaning death has hushed.
+
+THE PLAIN.
+
+Ah--! Ah--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I understand! complaints and sobs!--
+'Tis Wagram's field, remembering aloud!
+
+THE PLAIN.
+
+Ah--! Ah--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Looking at_ FLAMBEAU.]
+
+ How still he lies!--I must begone!
+For 'tis as if he'd fallen in the battle!
+
+ [_And bending over him he murmurs._]
+
+Thus and no otherwise they must have looked!
+The uniform--the blood--!
+
+ [_He is about to go, but suddenly, with horror._]
+
+ Another! There!
+There--! Everywhere--! The same accusing shapes!
+They're dying thus as far as eye can reach!
+
+THE PLAIN.
+
+Alas--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ I hear them speaking in the gloom!
+
+VOICES.
+
+My brow bleeds--! My leg is dead--! My arm hangs loose!--
+I'm crushed beneath this gun!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The battle-field!
+I've willed it: it has risen.
+
+VOICES.
+
+ Water!--Water
+Upon my gash! Ah! tell me what I've broken!
+Ah! do not let me perish in this ditch!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Forests of arms are quivering in the plain;
+I tread upon a field of epaulettes.
+
+A VOICE.
+
+Help!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And I slip on leather shoulder-belts!
+
+A VOICE.
+
+Dragoon, reach me your hands!
+
+ANOTHER.
+
+ They're shot away!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah! whither turn?
+
+VOICES.
+
+ The ravens!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Horrible!
+The wooden soldiers ranged upon my table!
+
+THE VOICES.
+
+Horses have trampled on me! Drink!--The ravens!
+I'm dying!--How I suffer!--God forgive me!
+The ravens!--Help!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Alas! Where are the Eagles?
+
+THE VOICES.
+
+Water!--This brook runs blood!--Yet let me drink!
+I thirst!--I die!--God's curse!--I'm hurt!--Mother!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah!
+
+A VOICE.
+
+ For God's sake! put a bullet through my head!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah! Now I understand my wakeful nights--
+
+A VOICE.
+
+Curse the Light Cavalry! They're base assassins!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The racking cough that wakes me in a sweat!
+
+A VOICE.
+
+I cannot drag my leg! Oh, wrench it off!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+The blood I spit! I know whose blood it is!
+
+THE PLAIN.
+
+Ah!--Ah--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ And all the arms! And all the arms I see!
+The handless wrists! The hands with shattered fingers!
+The monstrous harvest which a mighty wind
+Bends me-ward with a curse! Oh! Mercy! Mercy!
+Old Cuirassier, groaning with outstretched hands--
+Horrible agonized hands with bloody wrists!--
+Mercy! Poor little Private of the Guards,
+Who slowly raise your livid face to mine!
+Look not upon me with those glazing eyes!
+Why do you creep upon me through the gloom?
+God! 'Tis as though you strove to utter cries!
+Why do you all suck in a mighty breath?
+Why do you open horror-sated lips?
+What will you cry?--What?--What?
+
+ALL THE VOICES.
+
+ Long live the Emperor!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah! Pardon, for the glory's sake!--I thank you.
+I understand. I am the expiation.
+All was not paid, and I complete the price.
+'Twas fated I should seek his battle-field,
+And here, above the multitudinous dead,
+Be the white victim, growing daily whiter,
+Renouncing, praying, asking but to suffer,
+Yearning toward heaven, like sacrificial incense!
+And while betwixt the heavens and this field
+I am outstretched with all my soul and body,
+Father, I feel the shuddering furrows rise,
+I feel the hill upheaved beneath my feet
+To lift me gently to the stooping heavens!
+'Tis meet and right the battle-field should offer
+This sacrifice, that henceforth it may bear
+Pure and unstained its name of Victory.
+Wagram, behold me! Ransom of old days,
+Son, offered for, alas! how many sons!
+Above the dreadful haze wherein thou stirrest,
+Uplift me, Wagram, in thy scarlet hands!
+It must be so! I know it! Feel it! Will it!
+The breath of death has rustled through my hair!
+The shudder of death has passed athwart my soul!
+I am all white: a sacramental Host!
+What more reproaches can they hurl, O Father,
+Against our hapless fate?--Oh, hush! I add
+In silence Schönbrunn to Saint Helena!--
+'Tis done!--But if the Eaglet is resigned
+To perish like the innocent, yielding swan,
+Nailed in the gloom above some lofty gate,
+He must become the high and holy signal
+That scares the ravens and calls back the eagles.
+There must be no more meanings in the field,
+Nor dreadful writhings in the underwood.
+Bear on thy wings, O whirlwind of the plain,
+The shouts of conquerors and songs of triumph!
+
+ [_A proud and joyous clamor arises in the distance._]
+
+I've changed the meanings into trumpet blasts!
+
+ [_The wind wafts vague sounds of trumpet-calls._]
+
+I've earned the right to see what crawled and writhed,
+Suddenly leap into a phantom charge!
+
+ [_Noise as of a cavalcade. The_ VOICES, _which before
+ were lugubrious, now call to each other
+ with commands and signals._]
+
+THE VOICES.
+
+Forward!
+
+ [_The drums of the wind beat the charge._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The pomp and pageantry of battle,
+The dust that's raised by charging cavalry!
+
+VOICES.
+
+Charge!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The wild laughter of the fierce Hussars!
+
+VOICES.
+
+[_In a shout of epic laughter._]
+
+Ha! Ha!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Now, Goddess of the hundred mouths,
+Victory, from whose lips I've torn the gag,
+Sing in the distance!
+
+VOICES.
+
+[_Far away._]
+
+ Form battalions!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Upright in the first glow of dawn._]
+
+Glory! O God, to battle in this blaze!
+
+VOICES.
+
+Fire!--Half-columns, by your right, advance!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+To battle in this tumult you commanded!
+O Father! Father!--
+
+ [_Amid the noise of battle, which is dying away
+ in the distance, a haughty, metallic voice is
+ heard, preceded and followed by a roll of
+ drums._]
+
+THE VOICE.
+
+ Officers--and--men!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_In wild delirium, drawing his sword._]
+
+I come!--I fight!--Laugh, fife! and banners wave!
+Fix bayonets! Fall on the whitecoats! Forward!
+
+ [_And while the dream-sounds die away toward the
+ right, swept by the wind, all of a sudden, on the
+ left, a real military band bursts out; and abruptly,
+ like the awaking out of a dream, there
+ is the contrast between the furious battle-music
+ of the French, and a tame march of Schubert's
+ Austrian and dance-like, drawing near in the
+ rosy glow of the morning._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Who has turned with a shudder._]
+
+What white thing marching through the dawning day?
+The Austrian Infantry!
+
+ [_Beside himself, and urging along imaginary
+Grenadiers_.]
+
+ Ha! Up! and at them!
+The enemy!--Fall on them!---Crush them!
+Follow on! Follow on! We'll pass across their bodies!
+
+ [_With his sword high he rushes at the first ranks
+ of an Austrian regiment which appears on the
+ road._]
+
+AN OFFICER.
+
+[_Throwing himself on the_ DUKE _and stopping him._]
+
+For God's sake. Prince!--This is your regiment!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_As if awakening._]
+
+Ah--? This is my--?
+
+ [_He falls back; passes his hand across his forehead,
+ and gazes wildly at the white soldiers who
+ march past to the sound of the fife. He sees his
+ destiny, and accepts it. The arm he had raised
+ for the charge sinks slowly, his fist falls on his
+ hip; his sword falls into the regulation position,
+ and, stiff as an automaton, with a toneless
+ and mechanical voice, the voice of an Austrian
+ officer, he cries:_]
+
+ Halt! Front turn! Eyes right!
+
+
+THE CURTAIN FALLS AS THE DRILL BEGINS.
+
+[Illustration: large N with a crown above]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE SIXTH ACT
+
+_The_ DUKE'S _bedroom at Schönbrunn. The walls are covered with Gobelin
+tapestry. Through folding-doors on the left there is a glimpse of the
+china-cabinet. There are also folding-doors on the right and in the
+centre. Empire furniture. A little camp-bedstead stands almost in the
+middle of the room. Many bunches of violets are scattered about._
+
+_The_ DUKE _is discovered buried in a deep arm-chair, his fingers idly
+toying with a large bunch of violets. The_ ARCHDUCHESS _is offering him
+a glass of milk._ DOCTOR MALFATTI _is seated at the back of the room._
+
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Again? Well, there, then.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ No, you've left a little.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+You?--Why, I thought you ill!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ They've let me come.
+Thank heaven!--And you?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Why, if you leave your sick-bed
+I must be worse indeed.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Come, now, that's nonsense!
+You know you're better.
+
+ [_She examines the cup the_ DUKE _hands her._]
+
+ There, that's finished.
+
+ _She calls the_ DOCTOR, _who has been seated at the
+ back of the room._]
+
+His Highness drank his milk.
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+ I'm very glad.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+How good it was of him!
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+ How good!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ How hard--
+When I had dreamed of history's reward,
+And when ambition seared my soul--How hard,
+To be content with praise for drinking milk!
+
+ [_To the violets on his pillow._]
+
+Oh, ball of freshness laid upon my fever.
+Dear flowers that bring the Spring into my room--!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+All bring you violets now?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah, yes! Already.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Hush! As an act of gratitude to God
+For saving us--since both of us are better--
+I am to take the Sacrament this morning,
+I think--I hope--Franz, will you not come, too?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_After a long look at her._]
+
+Ah, now I see the pious trick you'd play me!
+This is the end!
+
+ [_He rises._]
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ I knew you'd say so!
+
+ [_With forced playfulness._]
+
+ Think!
+The etiquette--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The--etiquette?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ You know
+You cannot be deceived. When Austrian Princes
+Receive the--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Last--?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Oh! not that mournful word!--
+All the Imperial Family must be present.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+That's true.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ But we're alone! I've had an altar
+Placed in that cabinet; and look about you:
+No sign of an Archduke or an Archduchess.
+The Prelate says the Mass for you and me;
+'Tis but the ordinary Mass; you see
+This Sacrament is not--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The last. 'Tis true.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Well? Are you coming? Hark! The Mass begins!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+'Tis true, the illustrious audience should be present.
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+We've but the Prelate and the Acolyte.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+So, then, I am to have a respite--?
+
+[_They go out._]
+
+[_As soon as they have disappeared, the opposite
+door opens and_ GENERAL HARTMANN _ushers in
+the_ COURT.]
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ Come!
+Place yourselves here; and when, with humbled eyes
+The Duke is prostrate to receive the Host--
+
+ONE OF THE PRINCES.
+
+We'll place ourselves--
+
+A PRINCESS.
+
+[_To a child._]
+
+ Hush!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ In that awful moment
+When nothing can distract a Christian's thoughts
+I'll softly ope the door. For one brief second
+Your Highnesses will see his golden head;
+Then I shall close the door, and thus he'll rise,
+Not knowing he received, before the Court,
+As usage dictates, the Viaticum.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+Silence!
+
+PROKESCH.
+
+[_Who has just brought in the_ COUNTESS _and_ THERESA.]
+
+ They have permitted me to place you
+Behind the Imperial Family, and thus,
+Above the heads of Princes bent in prayer,
+O'er whom mysterious fate is hovering,
+And pallid children clasping pitiful hands,
+For the last time you'll see the dying Duke.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Oh, thank you, thank you, sir!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ Let no one stir
+When the door opens!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Ah! The sacring-bell!
+
+A PRINCESS.
+
+It is the Elevation!
+
+[_All kneel._]
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ Gently!
+
+THE COUNTESS CAMERATA.
+
+[_To_ METTERNICH.]
+
+ Well,
+Prince? Is there nothing you regret?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ No, nothing.
+I did my duty. Madam--often suffered
+While doing it--for my country's weal, my master's,
+And in defence of ancient privilege.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+You've no regrets?
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ No. None.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ The _Agnus Dei_.
+
+ [_To_ HARTMANN, _who very gently opens the door
+ a very little way and peers through._]
+
+Let not the door creak as you open it!
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+None. But he was a noble Prince. I kneel
+To-day not only to the Lamb of God!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+The Prelate has uncovered the Ciborium!
+
+ALL.
+
+Oh!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ Rigid silence! I'm about to open!
+
+ALL.
+
+[_With emotion._]
+
+Oh!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ I open!
+
+ [_He silently thrusts the wings of the folding-doors
+ open. All the_ COURT _is prostrate. There is a
+ vague glimpse of candle light. A moment's
+ pause of profound emotion and silence_. THERESA
+ _slowly rises to look across the kneeling
+ forms; she looks and sees._]
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_Amid the sobs which overmaster her._]
+
+ Oh! to behold him thus!
+
+ [_Movement._ GENERAL HARTMANN _has swiftly
+ closed the doors. Everybody has risen._]
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+Retire! He heard the sobbing!
+
+ [_All have hurried toward the door on the right,
+ but the door on the left opens quickly; the_ DUKE
+ _appears on the threshold and sees them all standing
+ before him. After a long look which takes
+ in the situation:_]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Ah!--I see.
+
+ [_He draws himself up, and comes toward them
+ with sudden majesty._]
+
+I thank the breaking heart that broke the silence;
+Let her who wept feel no remorse for weeping:
+They had no right to rob me of my death.
+
+ [_To the_ ARCHDUKES _and_ ARCHDUCHESSES, _who
+ withdraw respectfully._]
+
+But leave me now, my Austrian family!
+"My son was born a Frenchman; until death
+Let him remember that." And I remember.
+
+ [_To the_ PRINCES _who are leaving._]
+
+Farewell.
+
+ [_To the others_.]
+
+ Whose was the breaking heart?
+
+THERESA.
+
+[_Who has remained humbly on her knees in a corner._]
+
+ My Lord--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Approaching her, and speaking with great tenderness._]
+
+You are not very reasonable! Once
+Over your book you wept to see me live
+An Austrian Prince with flowers in my coat;
+And now you weep because that life has killed me.
+
+THERESA.
+
+The tryst--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Well?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ I was there.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Alas, poor soul!
+
+THERESA.
+
+Yes--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Why?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Because I love you.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To the_ COUNTESS.]
+
+ Madam,
+You hid this from me. Why?
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Because I love you.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ THERESA _and the_ COUNTESS.]
+
+Who brought you both to see me?
+
+ [THERESA _and the_ COUNTESS _look at the_ ARCHDUCHESS.]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To the_ ARCHDUCHESS.]
+
+ You?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Myself.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Why so much thoughtfulness?
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Because I love you.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Women have loved me as they love a child--
+
+ [_The_ THREE WOMEN _make a gesture of protest._]
+
+Ah, yes! The child they pity, spoil, and shelter--
+And with maternal fingers, on my brow
+Still sought the golden curls which Lawrence painted.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+No, no! We knew the struggles of your soul!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+And history itself will not record
+The Prince whose soul was seared with all ambitions,
+But see the solemn, rosy, fair-haired child
+Tricked out in laces in his little goat-cart,
+Holding the globe as 'twere an air-balloon.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Speak to me! I am here! Give me a word
+To soothe remorse, for through no fault of mine
+I was too small beside your mighty dreams.
+I have the thriftless conscience of a bird!
+The tinkling bells that jangle in my brain
+Have never ceased till now. Look at me now!
+Speak to me now! Forgive me now!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ O God!
+Inspire me with the deep, yet tender word
+With which a son forgives his mother.
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Franz,
+The cradle which you asked them for last night--
+
+A LACKEY.
+
+'Tis here.
+
+ [_He goes out to fetch it._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Looking at_ METTERNICH.]
+
+ Ah, my Lord Chancellor, I die
+Too soon for you; and you should weep.
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ My Lord--!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I was your weapon and my death disarms you!
+Europe, which never dared to say you nay,
+When you were he who could unchain the Eaglet,
+Listening to-morrow, will take heart, and say
+"I do not hear it stirring in its cage!"
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+My Lord! My Lord!
+
+ [_The great enamelled cradle is brought in._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ The cradle Paris gave me!
+My splendid cradle, Prudhon's masterpiece!
+Amidst its gold and mother-o'-pearl I slept,
+A babe, whose christening was a coronation.
+Place it beside this little bed, whereon
+My Father slept when victory fanned his slumbers.
+Closer! until its laces graze the sheets.
+Alas! how near my cradle to my death-bed!
+
+ [ _He points to the gap between the cradle and the
+ bed._]
+
+And all my life lies in that narrow space!
+
+THERESA.
+
+Oh!--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ In that gap, too narrow and too dark,
+Fate ne'er let fall a single pin of glory.
+Lay me upon the bed.
+
+DIETRICHSTEIN.
+
+ How pale he grows!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Ah, I was greater in my cradle, than
+I am upon this bed; and women rocked me--
+Yes, I had three to rock me, and they sang
+Their strange old songs: dear songs of Mistress Marchand!
+Oh, who will lull me now with cradle-songs?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Is not your mother here to sing to you?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Do you know any songs of France?
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ Why--no.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_To_ THERESA.]
+
+And you?
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Perhaps.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh, sing below your breath.
+"The rain falls, Shepherdess" and "May is come,"
+And sing "Upon the bridge that spans the Rhone,"
+That I may sleep, rocked on the people's fancy.
+There was a song I used to love; sing that:--
+ There was a little man,
+ And he was clad in gray--
+
+THERESA.
+
+Break, tender heart, as broke the heart of iron--
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+A crystal, shattered by a brazen echo--
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+A harp-string, shattered by a battle-song--
+
+THERESA.
+
+A lily sinking silently on laurels.
+
+THE DOCTOR.
+
+My Lord is very ill. Stand more apart.
+
+THERESA.
+
+Farewell, François--!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+ Farewell, Franz!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ Farewell, Bonaparte!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Alas, his head grows heavy on my shoulder!
+
+THE ARCHDUCHESS.
+
+Duke of Reichstadt!
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+ King of Rome!
+
+THERESA.
+
+ Poor child!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Deliriously._]
+
+The horses! horses!
+
+THE PRELATE [WAGNER].
+
+ Let us fall to prayer!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Horses! that I may ride to meet my father!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Will you not let me wipe away your tears?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+No, for the Victories, my sisters--Lo!
+I see them! see them! in a headlong flight
+Draw nigh to lave their glory in my tears!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+What are you saying?
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Nothing. Did I speak?
+Hush! Father, that's our secret: yours and mine!--
+My funeral will be ugly. Mumbling women;
+Lackeys with torches; droning Capuchins;
+And then they'll lock me in their crypt--and then--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Tell me your sufferings, child!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Oh! Superhuman!--
+And then, official mourning for six weeks.
+
+THE COUNTESS.
+
+He snatches at the cradle's lace, as if
+To make a winding sheet--
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ It will be ugly--
+I must remember how they christen better
+In Paris than they bury in Vienna.
+General Hartmann!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ Prince!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Yes--while I wait
+For death, I'll rock my childhood--
+
+ [_He hands_ GENERAL HARTMANN _a book from
+ under his pillow._]
+
+ Here--
+
+ [GENERAL HARTMANN _takes the book. The_ DUKE
+ _falls to rocking the cradle._]
+
+ I rock
+My past--I rock my past--As though
+The Duke of Reichstadt rocked the King of Rome.
+General--I marked a place--
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ I see it.
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+Good. While I'm dying, read aloud--
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+ No, no!
+You shall not die!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ You may begin to read.
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+[_Standing at the foot of the bed and reading._]
+
+"Toward seven o'clock the Calvary appear,
+Forming the head of the procession--"
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_Falling on her knees in a paroxysm of sobs._]
+
+ Franz!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+"The people, shaken with great sobs of joy,
+Utter a shout:--'Long live the King of Rome!'--"
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+Franz!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+ "And the guns salute; the Cardinal
+Receives their Majesties, and so the pageant
+Moves up the aisle as ancient rules prescribe.
+The Ushers, Kings-at-Arms, their chief, the pages,
+The various officers of the staff, the--"
+
+[_Noticing that the_ DUKE _has closed his eyes, he
+stops._]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Opening his eyes._]
+
+ Yes?
+
+HARTMANN.
+"The Chamberlains, the Prefects of the palace,
+Ministers, Masters of the Horse--"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_With failing voice._]
+
+ Go on.
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+"Marshals of France, Grand Eagles; and Princess
+Aldobrandini holds the chrisom-cloth;
+The Countesses Vilain and de Beauvau
+Bring in the ewer and the salt-cellar--"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Still paler and growing rigid._]
+
+Read on, sir. Mother--mother--lift me up.
+
+ [MARIA LOUISA, _assisted by the_ PRELATE _and_
+ DOCTOR MALFATTI, _raises him on his pillows._]
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+"Then the Grand Duke, who took on this occasion
+The Austrian Emperor's place as Sponsor: then
+Queen Hortense, and the Imperial Godmother;
+Lastly, the King of Rome, borne by Her Grace,
+The Duchess of Montesquieu. His Majesty,
+Whose healthy mien the crowd observed with joy,
+Wore a great silver mantle, lined with ermine,
+Whose train His Grace the Duke of Valmy bore.
+Princes--"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Omit the Princes.
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+[_Turning over a page._]
+
+ "Kings--"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+ Omit
+The Kings. The end, sir; read the end--
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+[_Turning over several pages._]
+
+ "And when--"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+I cannot hear you. Louder.
+
+DOCTOR MALFATTI.
+
+[_To_ WAGNER.]
+
+ The last agony.
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+[_Raising his voice._]
+
+"And when the Herald thrice within the choir
+Had cried 'Long live the King of Rome!' before
+They handed back the baby to its nurse,
+The Emperor gently took it from--"
+
+ [_He hesitates, with a glance at_ MARIA LOUISA.]
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_With infinite nobility and placing his hand with tender
+forgiveness on the head of_ MARIA LOUISA, _who is kneeling
+at his side._]
+
+ The Empress!
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+"And raised it to receive the acclamation.
+The loud--"
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Whose head drops._]
+
+ Mamma!
+
+MARIA LOUISA.
+
+[_Throwing herself across his body._]
+
+ François!
+
+THE DUKE.
+
+[_Opening his eyes._]
+
+ Napoleon!
+
+ [_He sinks back._]
+
+HARTMANN.
+
+"The loud _Te Deum_ filled the sanctuary.
+And all that night, throughout the realm of France,
+With equal pomp, solemnity, and joy--"
+
+DOCTOR MALFATTI.
+
+[_Putting his hand on the_ GENERAL'S _arm._]
+
+Dead!
+
+ [_Silence. The_ GENERAL _closes the book._]
+
+METTERNICH.
+
+ Clothe him in his Austrian uniform.
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of L'Aiglon, by Edmond Rostand
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