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.