L'Aiglon - BestLightNovel.com
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Eh?
DIETRICHSTEIN.
The English Amba.s.sador.
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_ AMBa.s.sADOR, _while the_ DUKE _moves away._]
They call the village in the Helenenthal Saint Helena. A fas.h.i.+onable 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 Englis.h.!.+
VOICES.
We're off!
THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.
[_To_ MARIA LOUISA.]
Louisa?
MARIA LOUISA.
No, I stay at home.
VOICES.
The carriages.
THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.
[_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.]
