Yes; when I choose. I do not choose! I hate the mystery Of sounds! And in a lovely sunset, feel With dread some fair thing growing soft within me! MARIA LOUISA. That fair thing in your heart, my son, is I! THE DUKE. You said it. MARIA LOUISA. Do you hate it? THE DUKE. I love _you_. MARIA LOUISA. Then think a little ere you do me harm. My father and Prince Metternich are so good! When the decree, for instance, made you Count, I said, Not Count; Duke at the least; for Duke Is something. And you're Duke of Reichstadt. THE DUKE. Lord of Gross-Bohen, Buchtiehrad, Tirnowan, Schwaden, Kron-Porsitschan-- MARIA LOUISA. And then, the tact! Your father's name was never mentioned once! THE DUKE. Why not have called me "Son of unknown Father"? MARIA LOUISA. With your estates and revenues you can be The pleasantest and richest Prince of Austria. THE DUKE. The richest Prince? MARIA LOUISA. And pleasantest-- THE DUKE. Of--Austria! MARIA LOUISA. Enjoy your happiness. THE DUKE. I drain its lees. MARIA LOUISA. First in precedence after the Archdukes, Some day you'll marry with a fair Princess, Or an Archduchess, or perhaps a-- THE DUKE. Ever I see what once my childish eyes caught sight of: His little throne, whose back was like a drum, And, made of gold, more splendid since Saint Helena. Upon that back the simple little N, The letter which cries No to time! MARIA LOUISA. But-- THE DUKE. Yes! The N with which he branded Kings! MARIA LOUISA. The Kings Whose blood runs through your mother's veins and yours! THE DUKE. I do not need their blood! What use to me? MARIA LOUISA. A glorious heritage! THE DUKE. Oh, paltry! MARIA LOUISA. What! Not proud to bear the blood of Charles the Fifth? THE DUKE. No! for it courses in the veins of others! But when I tell myself I bear in mine A Corsican Lieutenant's blood, I weep To see the thin blue trickle at my wrist. MARIA LOUISA. Franz! THE DUKE. And the old blood can but harm the new. If I bear blood of Kings, let me be bled. MARIA LOUISA. Silence! THE DUKE. What am I saying, after all? If ever I had yours long since I've lost it. His blood and yours have fought in me, and yours Was put to flight, as usual, by the other. MARIA LOUISA. Peace, Duke of Reichstadt! THE DUKE. Metternich, the fool, Thought to scrawl "Duke of Reichstadt" o'er my name. But hold the paper up before the sun: You'll see "Napoleon" in the watermark! MARIA LOUISA. My son! THE DUKE.