in that narrow space!
THERESA.
Oh!--
THE DUKE.
In that gap, too narrow and too dark,
Fate ne'er let fall a single pin of glory.
Lay me upon the bed.
DIETRICHSTEIN.
How pale he grows!
THE DUKE.
Ah, I was greater in my cradle, than
I am upon this bed; and women rocked me--
Yes, I had three to rock me, and they sang
Their strange old songs: dear songs of Mistress Marchand!
Oh, who will lull me now with cradle-songs?
MARIA LOUISA.
Is not your mother here to sing to you?
THE DUKE.
Do you know any songs of France?
MARIA LOUISA.
Why--no.
THE DUKE.
[_To_ THERESA.]
And you?
THERESA.
Perhaps.
THE DUKE.
Oh, sing below your breath.
"The rain falls, Shepherdess" and "May is come,"
And sing "Upon the bridge that spans the Rhone,"
That I may sleep, rocked on the people's fancy.
There was a song I used to love; sing that:--
There was a little man,
And he was clad in gray--
THERESA.
Break, tender heart, as broke the heart of iron--
THE COUNTESS.
A crystal, shattered by a brazen echo--
THE ARCHDUCHESS.
A harp-string, shattered by a battle-song--
THERESA.
A lily sinking silently on laurels.
THE DOCTOR.
My Lord is very ill. Stand more apart.
THERESA.
Farewell, Francois--!
THE ARCHDUCHESS.
Farewell, Franz!
THE COUNTESS.
Farewell, Bonaparte!
MARIA LOUISA.
Alas, his head grows heavy on my shoulder!
THE ARCHDUCHESS.
Duke of Reichstadt!
THE COUNTESS.
King of Rome!
THERESA.
Poor child!
THE DUKE.
[_Deliriously._]
The horses! horses!
THE PRELATE [WAGNER].
Let us fall to prayer!
THE DUKE.
Horses! that I may ride to meet my father!
MARIA LOUISA.
Will you not let me wipe away your tears?
THE DUKE.
No, for the Victories, my sisters--Lo!
I see them! see them! in a headlong flight
Draw nigh to lave their glory in my tears!
MARIA LOUISA.
What are you saying?
THE DUKE.
Nothing. Did I speak?
Hush! Father, that's our secret: yours and mine!--
My funeral will be ugly. Mumbling women;
Lackeys with torches; droning Capuchins;
And then they'll lock me in their crypt--and then--
MARIA LOUISA.
Tell me your sufferings, child!
THE DUKE.
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