Chapter 3
[_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.
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!