The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 97

[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 a.s.saults 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 Archd.u.c.h.ess, 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 Archd.u.c.h.ess, and revered, Such things have been! In Spain and Portugal Like enmities have led to intermarriage.