The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[Exit CHAMPAGNY. Re-enter QUEEN HORTENSE.]
NAPOLEON
Ah, dear Hortense, How is your mother now?
HORTENSE
Calm; quite calm, sire.
I pledge me you need have no further fret From her entreating tears. She bids me say That now, as always, she submits herself With chastened dignity to circ.u.mstance, And will descend, at notice, from your throne-- As in days earlier she ascended it-- In questionless obedience to your will.
It was your hand that crowned her; let it be Likewise your hand that takes her crown away.
As for her children, we shall be but glad To follow and withdraw ourselves with her, The tenderest mother children ever knew, From grandeurs that have brought no happiness!
NAPOLEON [taking her hand]
But, Hortense, dear, it is not to be so!
You must stay with me, as I said before.
Your mother, too, must keep her royal state, Since no repudiation stains this need.
Equal magnificence will orb her round In aftertime as now. A palace here, A palace in the country, wealth to match, A rank in order next my future wife's, And conference with me as my truest friend.
Now we will seek her--Eugene, you, and I-- And make the project clear.
[Exeunt NAPOLEON and HORTENSE. The scene darkens and shuts.]
SCENE III
VIENNA. A PRIVATE APARTMENT IN THE IMPERIAL PALACE
[The EMPEROR FRANCIS discovered, paler than usual, and somewhat flurried. Enter METTERNICH the Prime Minister--a thin-lipped, long-nosed man with inquisitive eyes.]
FRANCIS
I have been expecting you some minutes here, The thing that fronts us brooking brief delay.-- Well, what say you by now on this strange offer?
METTERNICH
My views remain the same, your Majesty: The policy of peace that I have upheld, Both while in Paris and of late time here, Points to this step as heralding sweet balm And bandaged veins for our late crimsoned realm.
FRANCIS
Agreed. As monarch I perceive therein A happy doorway for my purposings.
It seems to guarantee the Hapsburg crown A quittance of distractions such as those That leave their shade on many a backward year!-- There is, forsooth, a suddenness about it, And it would aid us had we clearly keyed The cryptologues of which the world has heard Between Napoleon and the Russian Court-- Begun there with the selfsame motiving.
METTERNICH
I would not, sire, one second ponder it.
It was an obvious first crude cast-about In the important reckoning of means For his great end, a strong monarchic line.
The more advanced the more it profits us; For sharper, then, the quas.h.i.+ng of such views, And wreck of that conjunction in the aims Of France and Russia, marked so much of late As jeopardizing quiet neighbours' thrones.
FRANCIS
If that be so, on the domestic side There seems no bar. Speaking as father solely, I see secured to her the proudest fate That woman can daydream. And I could hope That private bliss would not be wanting her!
METTERNICH
A hope well seated, sire. The Emperor, Imperious and determined in his rule, Is easy-natured in domestic life, As my long time in Paris amply proved.
Moreover, the accessories of his glory Have been, and will be, admirably designed To fire the fancy of a young princess.
FRANCIS
Thus far you satisfy me.... So, to close, Or not to close with him, is now the thing.
METTERNICH
Your Majesty commands the issue quite: The father of his people can alone In such a case give answer--yes or no.
Vagueness and doubt have ruined Russia's chance; Let not, then, such be ours.
FRANCIS
You mean, if I, You'd answer straight. What would that answer be?
METTERNICH
In state affairs, sire, as in private life, Times will arise when even the faithfullest squire Finds him unfit to jog his chieftain's choice, On whom responsibility must lastly rest.
And such times are pre-eminently, sire, Those wherein thought alone is not enough To serve the head as guide. As Emperor, As father, both, to you, to you in sole Must appertain the privilege to p.r.o.nounce Which track stern duty bids you tread herein.
FRANCIS
Affection is my duty, heart my guide.-- Without constraint or prompting I shall leave The big decision in my daughter's hands.
Before my obligations to my people Must stand her wish. Go, find her, Metternich, Take her the tidings. She is free with you, And will speak out. [Looking forth from the terrace.]
She's here at hand, I see: I'll call her in. Then tell me what's her mind.