"Chantons, celebrons notre reine!"
The heart of the young queen overflowed with excess of joy. She leaned toward the emperor, and gently drawing him forward, the brother and sister both acknowledged the graceful compliment. The emperor was saluted with shouts, and the singers began for the second time, "Chantons, celebrons notre reine!" The people, with one accord, rose from their seats, and now, on every side, even from the stage, were heard the cries of "Long live our queen! Long live the emperor!"
Marie Antoinette, leaning on her brother's arm, bent forward again, and, for the third time, the singers, and with them the people sang, "Chantons, eelebrons notre reine!"
This time, every occupant of the imperial box rose to return acknowledgments, and the audience began for the fourth time,
"Chantons, celebrons notre reine!"
The queen was so overcome, that she could no longer restrain her tears. She tried to incline her head, but her emotion overpowered her, and covering her face with her handkerchief, she leaned upon the shoulder of her brother, and wept.
The applause ceased. The emotion of Marie Antoinette had communicated itself to her worshippers, and many an eye was dimmed with sympathetic tears.
Suddenly, in the parterre, a tall, manly form arose from his seat, and, pointing to the queen, recited the following couplet
"Si le peuple pout esperer Qu'il hui sera permis de rire, Ce n'est que sons l'heureux empire Des princes qui savent pleurer."
This happy impromptu was enthusiastically received. Marie Antoinette had dried her tears to listen, and as she prepared to leave the theatre, she turned to her brother, and said