I write this midnight, that amaze may pitch To coolness ere your messenger arrives.
SCHWARZENBERG
This radiant revelation flicks a gleam On many circling things!--the courtesies Which graced his bearing toward our officer Amid the tumults of the late campaign, His wish for peace with England, his affront At Alexander"s tedious-timed reply...
Well, it will thrust a thorn in Russia"s side, If I err not, whatever else betide!
[Exeunt. The maskers surge into the foreground of the scene, and their motions become more and more fantastic. A strange gloom begins and intensifies, until only the high lights of their grinning figures are visible. These also, with the whole ball- room, gradually darken, and the music softens to silence.]
SCENE II
PARIS. THE TUILERIES
[The evening of the next day. A saloon of the Palace, with folding-doors communicating with a dining-room. The doors are flung open, revealing on the dining-table an untouched dinner, NAPOLEON and JOSEPHINE rising from it, and DE BAUSSET, chamberlain- in-waiting, pacing up and down. The EMPEROR and EMPRESS come forward into the saloon, the latter pale and distressed, and patting her eyes with her handkerchief.
The doors are closed behind them; a page brings in coffee; NAPOLEON signals to him to leave. JOSEPHINE goes to pour out the coffee, but NAPOLEON pushes her aside and pours it out himself, looking at her in a way which causes her to sink cowering into a chair like a frightened animal.]
JOSEPHINE
I see my doom, my friend, upon your face!
NAPOLEON
You see me bored by Cambaceres" ball.
JOSEPHINE
It means divorce!--a thing more terrible Than carrying elsewhere the dalliances That formerly were mine. I kicked at that; But now agree, as I for long have done, To any infidelities of act May I be yours in name!
NAPOLEON
My mind must bend To other things than our domestic petting: The Empire orbs above our happiness, And "tis the Empire dictates this divorce.
I reckon on your courage and calm sense To breast with me the law"s formalities, And get it through before the year has flown.
JOSEPHINE
But are you REALLY going to part from me?
O no, no, my dear husband; no, in truth, It cannot be my Love will serve me so!
NAPOLEON
I mean but mere divorcement, as I said, On simple grounds of sapient sovereignty.
JOSEPHINE
But nothing have I done save good to you:-- Since the fond day we wedded into one I never even have THOUGHT you jot of harm!
Many the happy junctures when you have said I stood as guardian-angel over you, As your Dame Fortune, too, and endless things Of such-like pretty tenour--yes, you have!
Then how can you so gird against me now?
You had not p.r.i.c.ked upon it much of late, And so I hoped and hoped the ugly spectre Had been laid dead and still.
NAPOLEON [impatiently]
I tell you, dear, The thing"s decreed, and even the princess chosen.
JOSEPHINE
Ah--so--the princess chosen!... I surmise It is none else than the Grand-d.u.c.h.ess Anne: Gossip was right--though I would not believe.
She"s young; but no great beauty!--Yes, I see Her silly, soulless eyes and horrid hair; In which new gauderies you"ll forget sad me!
NAPOLEON
Upon my soul you are childish, Josephine: A woman of your years to pout it so!-- I say it"s not the Tsar"s Grand-d.u.c.h.ess Anne.
JOSEPHINE
Some other Fair, then. You whose name can nod The flower of all the world"s virginity Into your bed, will well take care of that!
[Spitefully.] She may not have a child, friend, after all.
NAPOLEON [drily]
You hope she won"t, I know!--But don"t forget Madame Walewska did, and had she shown Such cleverness as yours, poor little fool, Her withered husband might have been displaced, And her boy made my heir.--Well, let that be.
The severing parchments will be signed by us Upon the fifteenth, prompt.
JOSEPHINE
What--I have to sign My putting away upon the fifteenth next?
NAPOLEON
Ay--both of us.