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 Napoléon 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.]