[_Pointing to the_ ATTACHe, _who has followed her._]

Let me get rid of this importunate mask.

And I'll come back.

THE DUKE.

I'll wait. 'Tis fate. I yield.

I'll love, with stormy April in my heart.

I'll love--like these--like all!

BOMBELLES.

[_Who has come in with_ MARIA LOUISA. _She sits on the stone bench._]

Was he in love?

MARIA LOUISA.

What! must you still be harping on him?

BOMBELLES.

Yes.

THE DUKE.

My mother and Bombelles--!

BOMBELLES.

Speak!

MARIA LOUISA.

I don't know.

He was intimidated in my presence.

Even on his throne, beneath his golden laurels, He felt his inequality of birth; And then, to keep a countenance, he'd call me His "Good Louisa." Yes! such shocking taste!

For I love sentiment. I am a woman.

BOMBELLES.

And queen of all!

MARIA LOUISA.

A little thing I said When Saint Aulaire came to my room at Blois With news of his disasters, made them furious.

I was in bed. My naked foot peeped out, And, lying on the polished wood, as if Thomire had carved it, seemed at once to turn The Medicean bed into an Empire bed.

And seeing the Envoy furtively look down, I smiled and said, "You're looking at my foot."

And so he was. In spite of all misfortunes, Indeed the man was looking at my foot.

Was this coquettish? Well, what of it? Heavens!

Where was the crime if I remained a woman?

For, after all, amid the crash of France, The beauty of my foot had _some_ importance!

THE DUKE.

Would I could fly! but I am glued to the spot!

BOMBELLES.

What's the grey pebble in your bracelet?

MARIA LOUISA.

That?

Ah, I can never see it without tears.

That is a fragment--

BOMBELLES.

Of the Pyramids?

MARIA LOUISA.

What nonsense! 'Tis a fragment of the tomb Where Juliet sleeps beside her Romeo-- I had this souvenir--

BOMBELLES.

For pity's sake Don't mention Neipperg!

MARIA LOUISA.

If he irritates you, Why speak about the first?

BOMBELLES.

That's different, But did you love him?

MARIA LOUISA.

Whom?

BOMBELLES.

The--first.

MARIA LOUISA.

Again?