Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) (1052 page)

CHAMPAGNY

I will, your Majesty.

[Exit CHAMPAGNY.  Re-enter QUEEN HORTENSE.]

NAPOLEON

     Ah, dear Hortense,

How is your mother now?

HORTENSE

     Calm; quite calm, sire.

I pledge me you need have no further fret

From her entreating tears.  She bids me say

That now, as always, she submits herself

With chastened dignity to circumstance,

And will descend, at notice, from your throne—

As in days earlier she ascended it—

In questionless obedience to your will.

It was your hand that crowned her; let it be

Likewise your hand that takes her crown away.

As for her children, we shall be but glad

To follow and withdraw ourselves with her,

The tenderest mother children ever knew,

From grandeurs that have brought no happiness!

NAPOLEON
[taking her hand]

But, Hortense, dear, it is not to be so!

You must stay with me, as I said before.

Your mother, too, must keep her royal state,

Since no repudiation stains this need.

Equal magnificence will orb her round

In aftertime as now.  A palace here,

A palace in the country, wealth to match,

A rank in order next my future wife's,

And conference with me as my truest friend.

Now we will seek her—Eugene, you, and I—

And make the project clear.

[Exeunt NAPOLEON and HORTENSE.  The scene darkens and shuts.]

SCENE III

VIENNA.  A PRIVATE APARTMENT IN THE IMPERIAL PALACE

[The EMPEROR FRANCIS discovered, paler than usual, and somewhat

flurried.  Enter METTERNICH the Prime Minister—a thin-lipped,

long-nosed man with inquisitive eyes.]

FRANCIS

I have been expecting you some minutes here,

The thing that fronts us brooking brief delay.—

Well, what say you by now on this strange offer?

METTERNICH

My views remain the same, your Majesty:

The policy of peace that I have upheld,

Both while in Paris and of late time here,

Points to this step as heralding sweet balm

And bandaged veins for our late crimsoned realm.

FRANCIS

Agreed.  As monarch I perceive therein

A happy doorway for my purposings.

It seems to guarantee the Hapsburg crown

A quittance of distractions such as those

That leave their shade on many a backward year!—

There is, forsooth, a suddenness about it,

And it would aid us had we clearly keyed

The cryptologues of which the world has heard

Between Napoleon and the Russian Court—

Begun there with the selfsame motiving.

METTERNICH

I would not, sire, one second ponder it.

It was an obvious first crude cast-about

In the important reckoning of means

For his great end, a strong monarchic line.

The more advanced the more it profits us;

For sharper, then, the quashing of such views,

And wreck of that conjunction in the aims

Of France and Russia, marked so much of late

As jeopardizing quiet neighbours' thrones.

FRANCIS

If that be so, on the domestic side

There seems no bar.  Speaking as father solely,

I see secured to her the proudest fate

That woman can daydream.  And I could hope

That private bliss would not be wanting her!

METTERNICH

A hope well seated, sire.  The Emperor,

Imperious and determined in his rule,

Is easy-natured in domestic life,

As my long time in Paris amply proved.

Moreover, the accessories of his glory

Have been, and will be, admirably designed

To fire the fancy of a young princess.

FRANCIS

Thus far you satisfy me.... So, to close,

Or not to close with him, is now the thing.

METTERNICH

Your Majesty commands the issue quite:

The father of his people can alone

In such a case give answer—yes or no.

Vagueness and doubt have ruined Russia's chance;

Let not, then, such be ours.

FRANCIS

     You mean, if I,

You'd answer straight.  What would that answer be?

METTERNICH

In state affairs, sire, as in private life,

Times will arise when even the faithfullest squire

Finds him unfit to jog his chieftain's choice,

On whom responsibility must lastly rest.

And such times are pre-eminently, sire,

Those wherein thought alone is not enough

To serve the head as guide.  As Emperor,

As father, both, to you, to you in sole

Must appertain the privilege to pronounce

Which track stern duty bids you tread herein.

FRANCIS

Affection is my duty, heart my guide.—

Without constraint or prompting I shall leave

The big decision in my daughter's hands.

Before my obligations to my people

Must stand her wish.  Go, find her, Metternich,

Take her the tidings.  She is free with you,

And will speak out. 
[Looking forth from the terrace.]

     She's here at hand, I see:

I'll call her in.  Then tell me what's her mind.

[He beckons from the window, and goes out in another direction.]

METTERNICH

So much for form's sake!  Can the river-flower

The current drags, direct its face up-stream?

What she must do she will; nought else at all.

[Enter through one of the windows MARIA LOUISA in garden-costume,

fresh-coloured, girlish, and smiling.  METTERNICH bends.]

MARIA LOUISA

O how, dear Chancellor, you startled me!

Please pardon my so brusquely bursting in.

I saw you not.—Those five poor little birds

That haunt out there beneath the pediment,

Snugly defended from the north-east wind,

Have lately disappeared.  I sought a trace

Of scattered feathers, which I dread to find!

METTERNICH

They are gone, I ween, the way of tender flesh

At the assaults of winter, want, and foes.

MARIA LOUISA

It is too melancholy thinking, that!

Don't say it.—But I saw the Emperor here?

Surely he beckoned me?

METTERNICH

     Sure, he did,

Your gracious Highness; and he has left me here

To break vast news that will make good his call.

MARIA LOUISA

Then do.  I'll listen.  News from near or far?

[She seats herself.]

METTERNICH

From far—though of such distance-dwarfing might

That far may read as near eventually.

But, dear Archduchess, with your kindly leave

I'll speak straight out.  The Emperor of the French

Has sent to-day to make, through Schwarzenberg,

A formal offer of his heart and hand,

His honours, dignities, imperial throne,

To you, whom he admires above all those

The world can show elsewhere.

MARIA LOUISA
[frightened]

     My husband—he?

What, an old man like him!

METTERNICH
[cautiously]

     He's scarcely old,

Dear lady.  True, deeds densely crowd in him;

Turn months to years calendaring his span;

Yet by Time's common clockwork he's but young.

MARIA LOUISA

So wicked, too!

METTERNICH
[nettled]

Well-that's a point of view.

MARIA LOUISA

But, Chancellor, think what things I have said to him!

Can women marry where they have taunted so?

METTERNICH

Things?  Nothing inexpungeable, I deem,

By time and true good humour.

MARIA LOUISA

     O I have!

Horrible things.  Why—ay, a hundred times—

I have said I wished him dead!  At that strained hour

When the first voicings of the late war came,

Thrilling out how the French were smitten sore

And Bonaparte retreating, I clapped hands

And answered that I hoped he'd lose his head

As well as lose the battle!

METTERNICH

     Words.  But words!

Born like the bubbles of a spring that come

Of zest for springing—aimless in their shape.

MARIA LOUISA

It seems indecent, mean, to wed a man

Whom one has held such fierce opinions of!

METTERNICH

My much beloved Archduchess, and revered,

Such things have been!  In Spain and Portugal

Like enmities have led to intermarriage.

In England, after warring thirty years

The Red and White Rose wedded.

MARIA LOUISA
[after a silence]

     Tell me, now,

What does my father wish?

METTERNICH

     His wish is yours.

Whatever your Imperial Highness feels

On this grave verdict of your destiny,

Home, title, future sphere, he bids you think

Not of himself, but of your own desire.

MARIA LOUISA
[reflecting]

My wish is what my duty bids me wish.

Where a wide Empire's welfare is in poise,

That welfare must be pondered, not my will.

I ask of you, then, Chancellor Metternich,

Straightway to beg the Emperor my father

That he fulfil his duty to the realm,

And quite subordinate thereto all thought

Of how it personally impinge on me.

[A slight noise as of something falling is heard in the room.  They

glance momentarily, and see that a small enamel portrait of MARIE

ANTOINETTE, which was standing on a console-table, has slipped down

on its face.]

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

What mischief's this?  The Will must have its way.

SPIRIT SINISTER

Perhaps Earth shivered at the lady's say?

SHADE OF THE EARTH

I own hereto.  When France and Austria wed

My echoes are men's groans, my dews are red;

So I have reason for a passing dread!

METTERNICH

Right nobly phrased, Archduchess; wisely too.

I will acquaint your sire the Emperor

With these your views.  He waits them anxiously. 
[Going.]

MARIA LOUISA

Let me go first.  It much confuses me

To think—But I would fain let thinking be!

[She goes out trembling.  Enter FRANCIS by another door.]

METTERNICH

I was about to seek your Majesty.

The good Archduchess luminously holds

That in this weighty question you regard

The Empire.  Best for it is best for her.

FRANCIS
[moved]

My daughter's views thereon do not surprise me.

She is too staunch to pit a private whim

Against the fortunes of a commonwealth.

During your speech with her I have taken thought

To shape decision sagely.  An assent

Would yield the Empire many years of peace,

And leave me scope to heal those still green sores

Which linger from our late unhappy moils.

Therefore, my daughter not being disinclined,

I know no basis for a negative.

Send, then, a courier prompt to Paris: say

The offer made for the Archduchess' hand

I do accept—with this defined reserve,

That no condition, treaty, bond, attach

To such alliance save the tie itself.

There are some sacrifices whose grave rites

No bargain must contaminate.  This is one—

This personal gift of a beloved child!

METTERNICH
[leaving]

I'll see to it this hour, your Majesty,

And cant the words in keeping with your wish.

To himself as he goes.]

Decently done!... He slipped out "sacrifice,"

And scarce could hide his heartache for his girl.

Well ached it!—But when these things have to be

It is as well to breast them stoically.

[Exit METTERNICH.  The clouds draw over.]

SCENE IV

LONDON.  A CLUB IN ST. JAMES'S STREET

[A winter midnight.  Two members are conversing by the fire, and

others are seen lolling in the background, some of them snoring.]

FIRST MEMBER

I learn from a private letter that it was carried out in the

Emperor's Cabinet at the Tuileries—just off the throne-room, where

they all assembled in the evening,—Boney and the wife of his bosom

[In pure white muslin from head to foot, they say]
, the Kings and

Queens of Holland, Whestphalia, and Naples, the Princess Pauline,

and one or two more; the officials present being Cambaceres the

Chancellor, and Count Regnaud.  Quite a small party.  It was over

in minutes—short and sweet, like a donkey's gallop.

SECOND MEMBER

Anything but sweet for her.  How did she stand it?

FIRST MEMBER

Serenely, I believe, while the Emperor was making his speech

renouncing her; but when it came to her turn to say she renounced

him she began sobbing mightily, and was so completely choked up that

she couldn't get out a word.

SECOND MEMBER

Poor old dame!  I pity her, by God; though she had a rattling good

spell while it lasted.

FIRST MEMBER

They say he was a bit upset, too, at sight of her tears  But I

dare vow that was put on.  Fancy Boney caring a curse what a woman

feels.  She had learnt her speech by heart, but that did not help