[_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 ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.

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 ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.

Farewell, Franz!

THE COUNTESS.

Farewell, Bonaparte!

MARIA LOUISA.

Alas, his head grows heavy on my shoulder!

THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.

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!