I see a youth who suffers, Rather than live a favored prince's life. Your soul is still alive, but here at court They'll lull it fast asleep with love and music. I had a soul once, like the rest of the world; But--! And I wither, decently obscene-- Till some day, in the cause of liberty, One of those rash young fools of the University Amid my sweetmeats, perfumes, and dishonor Slays me as Kotzebue was slain by Sand. Yes, I'm afraid--do try a sugared raisin-- That I shall perish at his hand. THE DUKE. You will. GENTZ. What?--How? THE DUKE. A youth will slay you. GENTZ. But-- THE DUKE. A youth of your acquaintance. GENTZ. Sir--? THE DUKE. His name Is Frederick. 'Tis the youth you were yourself. For now he's risen again in you; and since He whispers in your ear like dull remorse, All's over with you: he will show no mercy. GENTZ. 'Tis true, my youth cuts like a knife within me. Ah, well I knew that gaze had not deceived me! 'Tis that of one who ponders upon Empire. THE DUKE. I do not understand, sir, what you mean. [_He moves away._] METTERNICH. [_To_ GENTZ.] You've had a chat with--? GENTZ. Yes. METTERNICH. Delightful? GENTZ. Very. METTERNICH. He's in the hollow of my hand. GENTZ. Entirely. THE DUKE. [_Stopping before_ THERESA.] Why did you weep? THERESA. Because, my Lord-- THE DUKE. Ah, no! I know. But do not weep. METTERNICH. [_Bowing to the_ DUKE.] I take my leave. [_He goes out with the_ ATTACHÉ.] THE DUKE. [_To_ MARIA LOUISA _and_ DIETRICHSTEIN, _who are turning over some papers on his table._] Examining my work? DIETRICHSTEIN. It's excellent. But why on purpose make mistakes in German? Pure mischief! MARIA LOUISA. Oh! and at your age, mischief! THE DUKE. How can I help it? I am not an eagle. DIETRICHSTEIN. You still make France a noun of feminine gender. THE DUKE. I never know what's _der_ or _die_ or _das_. DIETRICHSTEIN. In this case neuter is correct. THE DUKE. But mean. I don't much care about a neuter France. MARIA LOUISA. [_To_ THALBERG, _who is playing softly on the piano._] My son detests all music. THE DUKE. I detest it. LORD COWLEY. [_Coming toward the_ DUKE.] Highness-- DIETRICHSTEIN. [_Aside to the_ DUKE.] A pleasant word. THE DUKE. Eh? DIETRICHSTEIN. The English Ambassador. LORD COWLEY. Where had you been just now When you came galloping and out of breath? THE DUKE.