Her song was a passionate appeal to the two princes, whom she addressed openly, in behalf of Poland.
It was over, and not a sound was heard in the theatre. The audience hung, in breathless anxiety, upon the verdict that must come from those who had been addressed. They were so intent upon Frederick and Joseph that they did not see the singer leave the stage. They were not destined, however, to be enlightened or relieved, for no demonstration was made in the imperial box.
But Joseph, rising from his seat, signed to the marshal of the household to approach.
"Go, count," said he, "go quickly, and ask her name. Tell her it is the emperor who desires to know her."
"Her name is Poland," said Kaunitz, in an absent tone. Then, addressing Joseph, he continued: "Did I not tell your majesty that your adventure was not to end with the throwing of a bouquet? I know these Polish women; they coquette with every thing—above all, with the throes of their dying fatherland."
The emperor smiled, but said nothing. He was watching the return of the marshal of the household.
"Well, count, what is her name?" cried he earnestly.
"Sire, I am unable to find it out. The lady has left the theatre, and no one here, not even the director, knows her name."
"Strange," said the emperor. "Let a messenger, then, be sent to
Bernasconi: she, of course, must know."
"Pardon me, your majesty, I have been to Bernasconi. She is here, preparing to sing her second air. She has suddenly recovered and will have the honor of appearing before your majesties in a few moments."