ESCH.

We want a little hillock.

THE DUKE.

[_Handing him a book._]

The "Memorials."
Here stands Saint Cyr, here Molitor of Bellegarde
And on the bridge--

METTERNICH.

[_Who has come in unperceived and is standing behind
him._]

And on the bridge?

THE DUKE.

The Guards.

METTERNICH.

So all the army's French to-day, it seems!
Where are the Austrians?

THE DUKE.

They've run away.

METTERNICH.

Tut, tut--who daubed them over for you?

THE DUKE.

No one.

METTERNICH.

'Twas you. That's how you spoil the toys we give you.

THE DUKE.

Sir--!

[METTERNICH _rings_--_a_ LACKEY _appears._]

METTERNICH.

[_To the_ LACKEY.]

Take these soldiers; throw them all away.

[_To the_ DUKE.]

I'll send you new ones.

THE DUKE.

I'll not have your new ones!
If I'm a child, my toys shall be a giant's!

METTERNICH.

What gadfly--what Imperial bee has stung you?

THE DUKE.

As irony is little to my liking--

THE LACKEY.

[_Aside to the_ DUKE.]

Silence, my Lord! I'll paint 'em over again.

METTERNICH.

Well, Highness?

THE DUKE.

Nothing. Just a fit of temper.
Forgive me.

[_Aside._]

I've a friend; I can be patient.

METTERNICH.

I came to bring your friend--

THE DUKE.

My friend?

METTERNICH.

Yes; Marshal
Marmont.

THE DUKE.

Oh! Marmont!

METTERNICH.

[_With a look at_ PROKESCH.]

He's among the few
I like to see about you--

PROKESCH.

[_Mutters._]

I should hope so!

METTERNICH.

He's here.

THE DUKE.

Why, let him come!

[METTERNICH _goes out. The_ DUKE _throws himself
wildly on the couch._]

My father! Glory!
The Eagles! The Imperial throne! The purple!

[_Suddenly calm, he offers his hand to_ MARMONT,
_who enters with_ METTERNICH.]

Ah, Marshal Marmont! How are _you_ to-day?

MARMONT.

My Lord--!

METTERNICH.

[_Anxious to get_ PROKESCH _away._]

Come, Prokesch, come and see how well
The Duke is lodged.

[_He takes him by the arm and leads him off._]

THE DUKE.

[_After a paus