Oh! Superhuman!--
And then, official mourning for six weeks.

THE COUNTESS.

He snatches at the cradle's lace, as if
To make a winding sheet--

THE DUKE.

It will be ugly--
I must remember how they christen better
In Paris than they bury in Vienna.
General Hartmann!

HARTMANN.

Prince!

THE DUKE.

Yes--while I wait
For death, I'll rock my childhood--

[_He hands_ GENERAL HARTMANN _a book from
under his pillow._]

Here--

[GENERAL HARTMANN _takes the book. The_ DUKE
_falls to rocking the cradle._]

I rock
My past--I rock my past--As though
The Duke of Reichstadt rocked the King of Rome.
General--I marked a place--

HARTMANN.

I see it.

THE DUKE.

Good. While I'm dying, read aloud--

MARIA LOUISA.

No, no!
You shall not die!

THE DUKE.

You may begin to read.

HARTMANN.

[_Standing at the foot of the bed and reading._]

"Toward seven o'clock the Calvary appear,
Forming the head of the procession--"

MARIA LOUISA.

[_Falling on her knees in a paroxysm of sobs._]

Franz!

HARTMANN.

"The people, shaken with great sobs of joy,
Utter a shout:--'Long live the King of Rome!'--"

MARIA LOUISA.

Franz!

HARTMANN.

"And the guns salute; the Cardinal
Receives their Majesties, and so the pageant
Moves up the aisle as ancient rules prescribe.
The Ushers, Kings-at-Arms, their chief, the pages,
The various officers of the staff, the--"

[_Noticing that the_ DUKE _has closed his eyes, he
stops._]

THE DUKE.

[_Opening his eyes._]

Yes?

HARTMANN.
"The Chamberlains, the Prefects of the palace,
Ministers, Masters of the Horse--"

THE DUKE.

[_With failing voice._]

Go on.

HARTMANN.

"Marshals of France, Grand Eagles; and Princess
Aldobrandini holds the chrisom-cloth;
The Countesses Vilain and de Beauvau
Bring in the ewer and the salt-cellar--"

THE DUKE.

[_Still paler and growing rigid._]

Read on, sir. Mother--mother--lift me up.

[MARIA LOUISA, _assisted by the_ PRELATE _and_
DOCTOR MALFATTI, _raises him on his pillows._]

HARTMANN.