He hates the ferment of the modern mind, But he's an excellent old man.

THE DUKE.

Two-sided.

Flowers from whose leaves death-sentences are shed, Good Emperor Franz is like these specimens.

[_He closes the herbarium._]

However, he's beloved, he's popular, I love him well.

THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.

How he could help your cause!

THE DUKE.

Ah! if he would!

THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.

Promise you'll never fly Until you've tried your utmost with him.

THE DUKE.

Yes, I promise that.

THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.

And I'll reward you now.

THE DUKE.

You?

THE ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS.

Oh, one has one's little influence!

The astounding Prokesch they deprived you of-- I said and did so much--in short, he's here.

[_She strikes the ground with her parasol. The door opens and_ PROKESCH _enters. The_ DUKE _rushes to him. The_ ARCHd.u.c.h.eSS _goes out quickly._]

THE DUKE.

At last!

PROKESCH.

They may be listening.

THE DUKE.

Oh, they are!

They never tell, though.

PROKESCH.

What?

THE DUKE.

I've tested them.

Uttered the most seditious sentiments; They've never been repeated. Never.

PROKESCH.

Strange!

THE DUKE.

I think the listener, paid by the police, Pockets the cash and stops his friendly ears.

PROKESCH.

The Countess Camerata? Any news?

THE DUKE.

Nothing.

PROKESCH.

Oh!

THE DUKE.

Nothing. She's forgotten me; Or else she's been discovered--or, perhaps-- What folly not to have fled last year! And yet 'Twas better; now I'm readier, but--forgotten.

PROKESCH.

Oh, hush! Your work-room? Charming.

THE DUKE.

It's Chinese.

The hideous gilded birds! The nightmare faces Sneering with scorpion-smiles from every corner!

They lodge me in the famous lacquered chamber So that my uniform may seem more white Against the blackness of its glowing walls!

PROKESCH.