The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon - BestLightNovel.com
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[He beckons from the window, and goes out in another direction.]
METTERNICH
So much for form's sake! Can the river-flower The current drags, direct its face up-stream?
What she must do she will; nought else at all.
[Enter through one of the windows MARIA LOUISA in garden-costume, fresh-coloured, girlish, and smiling. METTERNICH bends.]
MARIA LOUISA
O how, dear Chancellor, you startled me!
Please pardon my so brusquely bursting in.
I saw you not.--Those five poor little birds That haunt out there beneath the pediment, Snugly defended from the north-east wind, Have lately disappeared. I sought a trace Of scattered feathers, which I dread to find!
METTERNICH
They are gone, I ween, the way of tender flesh At the a.s.saults of winter, want, and foes.
MARIA LOUISA
It is too melancholy thinking, that!
Don't say it.--But I saw the Emperor here?
Surely he beckoned me?
METTERNICH
Sure, he did, Your gracious Highness; and he has left me here To break vast news that will make good his call.
MARIA LOUISA
Then do. I'll listen. News from near or far?
[She seats herself.]
METTERNICH
From far--though of such distance-dwarfing might That far may read as near eventually.
But, dear Archd.u.c.h.ess, with your kindly leave I'll speak straight out. The Emperor of the French Has sent to-day to make, through Schwarzenberg, A formal offer of his heart and hand, His honours, dignities, imperial throne, To you, whom he admires above all those The world can show elsewhere.
MARIA LOUISA [frightened]
My husband--he?
What, an old man like him!
METTERNICH [cautiously]
He's scarcely old, Dear lady. True, deeds densely crowd in him; Turn months to years calendaring his span; Yet by Time's common clockwork he's but young.
MARIA LOUISA
So wicked, too!
METTERNICH [nettled]
Well-that's a point of view.
MARIA LOUISA
But, Chancellor, think what things I have said to him!
Can women marry where they have taunted so?
METTERNICH
Things? Nothing inexpungeable, I deem, By time and true good humour.
MARIA LOUISA
O I have!
Horrible things. Why--ay, a hundred times-- I have said I wished him dead! At that strained hour When the first voicings of the late war came, Thrilling out how the French were smitten sore And Bonaparte retreating, I clapped hands And answered that I hoped he'd lose his head As well as lose the battle!
METTERNICH
Words. But words!
Born like the bubbles of a spring that come Of zest for springing--aimless in their shape.
MARIA LOUISA
It seems indecent, mean, to wed a man Whom one has held such fierce opinions of!
METTERNICH
My much beloved Archd.u.c.h.ess, and revered, Such things have been! In Spain and Portugal Like enmities have led to intermarriage.
