"Was I an undutiful son?" asked he, in a faltering voice. "I implore you, my friends, make me no courtier's reply, but speak the plain, unvarnished truth, and tell me whether I was an ungrateful son to my noble mother. Lacy, by the memory of your own mother, be honest."
"By the memory of my mother, sire," said Lacy, solemnly, "no! You bore the burden of your filial duty with exemplary patience, and bowed your will to the will of your mother, even when you knew that she erred in judgment."
"And you, Rosenberg?" asked Joseph, with a sad smile.
"My opinion, sire, is that you were a noble, all-enduring son, whose heart was not hardened against his mother, although from your childhood it had provocation to become so. Your majesty bore with more than any other man would have done whose lips had not been locked by filial tenderness."
"I was silent but resentful," said Joseph, mournfully. "I bore my burdens ungraciously, and Maria Theresa was aware of it. I have often been angered by her, but she has often wept for my sake. Oh, those tears disturb my conscience."
"Your majesty should remember that the empress forgave and forgot all the dissensions of by-gone years, and that in her last illness she expressed herself supremely happy in your majesty's care and tenderness."
"You should remember also, that with the sagacity which is often vouchsafed to the dying, Maria Theresa confessed that she had unwillingly darkened your majesty's life by her exactions, and in the magnanimity of her regret asked your forgiveness."
"I have said all this to myself," replied Joseph, "I have repeated it over and over in these wretched sleepless nights; but still the dagger of remorse is in my heart, and now I would gladly give years of my life, if my mother were living, that I might redeem the past by cheerful submission to her every wish."
"Let the great empress rest in peace!" exclaimed Lacy. "She was weary of life, and died with more than willingness. Your majesty must cherish YOUR life, mindful of the vast inheritance which your mother has left you."
"You are right, Lacy," cried Joseph, warmly. "It is a noble inheritance, and I swear to you both to cherish it, not for my own sake, but for the sake of the millions of human beings of whose destinies I shall be the arbiter. I swear to be a good sovereign to my people. By the tears which my mother has shed for me, I will dry the tears of the unfortunate, and the blessing she left me with her dying breath, I shall bestow upon the Austrians whom she loved so well. If I should ever forget this vow, you are here to remind me of it. And now that my reign begins, I exact of you both a proof of your loyalty."