L'Aiglon - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Essling! Yonder's Aspern.
Throw out a paper bridge across the steel.
Pa.s.s 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.
