was
hitherto the most implacable enemy of Bonaparte, should have suddenly
done him so much honor."

"But at last every one will have to believe it, your majesty," said
Metternich, in his gentle, melodious voice. "The facts will refute the
surmises of the incredulous."

"But it is outrageous," cried the emperor, "and I can hardly think it
possible that I am to assist Bonaparte in making a decent match, and
that I am to stoop so low as to call the son of the Corsican lawyer my
son-in-law! Let me tell you, it will never do; I should ever after be
afraid of passing the church of the Capuchins; I should always imagine
that the tombs of my ancestors opened, and their ghosts arose and asked
me, 'How could you permit the imperial blood of the Hapsburgs to mingle
with that of the little Corsican lawyer's son, the insurgent and
revolutionary captain, who chances to be a successful warrior?' Yes, and
I ask myself the question: How can I permit an archduchess, my daughter,
to be married to a man seated on a throne which does not belong to him,
and which the Bourbons, the legitimate rulers of France, will one day
take from him?? How can I permit it, I ask, and how am I to bear it, if
this fellow without a pedigree should some day take the liberty to call
me his dear father-in-law? How is it possible for me to expose myself to
such risk?"

"Will your majesty permit me to answer these just questions of your
imperial conscience?" asked Metternich.

"Do so," exclaimed Francis. "Explain the whole matter to me as though I
were not the emperor, but a common citizen offended at the idea that the
Emperor of Austria should permit his daughter to be married to the
revolutionary leader who has the impudence to assume the imperial title.
What would you say? How would you excuse me?"

Metternich advanced a step toward the emperor, and replied: "I would say
the Emperor Francis has acted as a wise statesman and ruler, and as a
father of his people. In order to preserve Austria from new wars, he has
sacrificed his most precious treasure, his only child. It is a pledge
securing peace to his exhausted people. Austria is not now able to
resist Napoleon in case he should again attack her. Our frontiers are
defenceless; our finances are exhausted. Hitherto every war has caused
us grievous losses in money, men, and territory; and so long as we stand
alone, so long as Russia persists in her absurd policy of being the
cat's-paw of France, it would be