L'Aiglon - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Quick!
Thalberg, my Tarantelle!
[THALBERG _sits at the piano and plays._]
[_To_ METTERNICH.] Where is her Majesty,
My lovely sister?
A LADY.
We looked in to fetch her.
ANOTHER LADY.
We're rus.h.i.+ng through the valley on a coach.
Sandor is driving.
A MAN'S VOICE.
We must thrust the lava Back in its crater!
THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.
Oh! do hold your tongues They will insist on talking of volcanoes.
BOMBELLES.
What's this volcano?
A LADY.
[_To another._]
Astrachan this winter.
SANDOR.
[_To_ BOMBELLES.]
Why, liberal opinions.
BOMBELLES.
Ah!
LORD COWLEY.
Or, rather, France!
METTERNICH.
[_To the_ ATTACHe.]
You hear him?
A LADY.
[_To a young man._]
Montenegro, sing to me Under your breath, for me alone.
MONTENEGRO.
[_Whom_ THALBERG _accompanies, sings very softly._]
Corazon--
[_He continues, pianissimo._]
ANOTHER LADY.
[_To_ GENTZ.]
Ah, Gentz!
[_She dips into her reticule._]
Some bon-bons, Gentz?
[_She gives him some._]
GENTZ.
You are an angel.
ANOTHER LADY.
[_Similar business._]
Perfume from Paris?
[_She takes out a little bottle of scent and gives it to him._]
METTERNICH.
[_Hurriedly to_ GENTZ.]
Tear the label off!
