[_To the_ PEt.i.tIONERS.]

Begone!

[_All go._]

What's this?

THE DUKE.

It seems if I were only A mountain shepherd or a forester, With nothing to attract your notice, Sire, Save a c.o.c.k's feather in my huntsman's hat, You would have drawn me to your melting heart.

THE EMPEROR.

But Franz--!

THE DUKE.

Ah, now I know why all your subjects, All those who are unhappy, call themselves Your sons as much as we; but is it just, Sire, is it just, that I, when I'm unhappy, Have less of kinship than the least of these?

THE EMPEROR.

But why just now--for I must scold you, sir-- When I was busy with these wretched people-- Why come to me just now, and not in private?

THE DUKE.

I wished to find you when your heart was open.

THE EMPEROR.

My heart--my heart!--You're somewhat over-bold!

THE DUKE.

I know that you can do the thing I ask, That I am wretched almost past endurance, And that you are my Grandfather--that's all.

THE EMPEROR.

But there is Europe--England--above all, There's Metternich.

THE DUKE.

You are my Grandfather.

THE EMPEROR.

You don't know half the difficulties.

THE DUKE.

But I am the grandson of your Majesty.

THE EMPEROR.

But--

THE DUKE.

Sire, in whom alone I place my trust, Be Grandfather a little while!

THE EMPEROR.

But I--

THE DUKE.

Just for a moment drop the Emperor.

THE EMPEROR.

Ah, what a coaxing way you always had.

THE DUKE.

You know I cannot bear you when you look Like the great portrait hanging in the throne-room, With the ermine cloak and Golden Fleece upon you; But here, like this, I like you very much.

With the dear silver of your floating hair, Your kindly eyes, your simple coat and waistcoat; For now you're just a dear old gentleman, By whom a grandchild might be petted.

THE EMPEROR.

Petted!

THE DUKE.

Are you not bored to see the heavy jowls Of Louis-Philip on the coins of France?

THE EMPEROR.

Hush! hush!

THE DUKE.

Do you adore these podgy Bourbons?

THE EMPEROR.

You are not like your cousins the Archdukes.

THE DUKE.

Indeed?