KE.
Ever
I see what once my childish eyes caught sight of:
His little throne, whose back was like a drum,
And, made of gold, more splendid since Saint Helena.
Upon that back the simple little N,
The letter which cries No to time!
MARIA LOUISA.
But--
THE DUKE.
Yes!
The N with which he branded Kings!
MARIA LOUISA.
The Kings
Whose blood runs through your mother's veins and yours!
THE DUKE.
I do not need their blood! What use to me?
MARIA LOUISA.
A glorious heritage!
THE DUKE.
Oh, paltry!
MARIA LOUISA.
What!
Not proud to bear the blood of Charles the Fifth?
THE DUKE.
No! for it courses in the veins of others!
But when I tell myself I bear in mine
A Corsican Lieutenant's blood, I weep
To see the thin blue trickle at my wrist.
MARIA LOUISA.
Franz!
THE DUKE.
And the old blood can but harm the new.
If I bear blood of Kings, let me be bled.
MARIA LOUISA.
Silence!
THE DUKE.
What am I saying, after all?
If ever I had yours long since I've lost it.
His blood and yours have fought in me, and yours
Was put to flight, as usual, by the other.
MARIA LOUISA.
Peace, Duke of Reichstadt!
THE DUKE.
Metternich, the fool,
Thought to scrawl "Duke of Reichstadt" o'er my name.
But hold the paper up before the sun:
You'll see "Napoleon" in the watermark!
MARIA LOUISA.
My son!
THE DUKE.
You called me Duke of Reichstadt? No!
But would you have my veritable name?
'Tis what the people call me in the Prater
As they make way: The Little Bonaparte!
I am his son! and no one's son but his!
MARIA LOUISA.
You hurt me.
THE DUKE.
Ah, forgive me, mother, mother.
Go to the ball, forget my frenzied words.
You need not even trouble to repeat them
To Metternich, my mother.
MARIA LOUISA.
Do you think so?
THE DUKE.
Softly the waltz floats through the evening air;
No, tell him nothing; that will save you trouble.
Forget it all: you, who forget so quickly!
MARIA LOUISA.
Yet--
THE DUKE.
Think of Parma, of the Sala palace,
And of your happy life. Is this a brow
To bear the shadow of an eagle's wing?
Ah! but I love you more than you can think!
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