In short the huckstering times; the god They exiled; you, your touching fate, our weariness, And everything--I said-- THE DUKE. You said as artist 'Twould be effective to be Bonapartist! THE YOUNG MAN. So you accept? THE DUKE. No. THE YOUNG MAN. What? THE DUKE. I listened well. And you were charming as you spoke, but nothing. No quiver of your voice, told me of France; You voiced a craze, a form of literature. THE YOUNG MAN. I've carried out my mission clumsily; Could but the Countess yonder speak! THE DUKE. No use. I love the bravery glowing in her eyes, But that's not France: that is my Family! When next you seek me, later, by and by, Let the call come through some untutored voice, Wherein rough accents of the people throb; Your Byronism is much too like myself. You could not have persuaded me to-night-- I feel myself unready for the crown. THE COUNTESS. [_Coming out of_ MARIA LOUISA'S _apartment._] Unready? You? [_She turns toward the room._] Don't trouble; I'm just going. And for the ball the white one, not the mauve. [_Coming hastily toward the_ DUKE.] Unready? What do you want? THE DUKE. A year of dreams, Of study. THE COUNTESS. Come and reign. THE DUKE. My brain's not ripe. THE COUNTESS. The crown's enough to ripen any brain. THE DUKE. The crown of light, shed by the midnight lamp. THE YOUNG MAN. It's such a chance! THE DUKE. I beg your pardon? "Chance"? Is this the tailor reappearing? THE COUNTESS. Yet-- THE DUKE. I will be honest in default of genius. I only ask three hundred wakeful nights. THE YOUNG MAN. But this refusal will confirm the rumors. THE COUNTESS. They say you've never really been of us. THE YOUNG MAN. You are Young France: you're called Old Austria. THE COUNTESS. They say your mind is being weakened. THE YOUNG MAN. Yes! They say you're cheated, even in your studies. THE COUNTESS. They say you do not know your father's history. THE DUKE. Do they say that? THE YOUNG MAN. What shall we answer them? THE DUKE. Answer them thus-- [_Enter_ DIETRICHSTEIN.] Dear Count! DIETRICHSTEIN. 'Tis Obenaus. THE DUKE. Ah! for my history lesson! Let him come. [DIETRICHSTEIN _goes out. The_ DUKE _points to the clothes scattered about._] Spend as much time as possible in packing, And try to get forgotten in your corner. [_Seeing_ DIETRICHSTEIN _come in with_ BARON VON OBENAUS.] Good-day, dear Baron. [_Carelessly to the_ YOUNG MAN _and the_ COUNTESS, _pointing to the screen._] Finish over there. [_To_ OBENAUS.] My tailor.