"You will do no such thing," said Eugene, laying his hand upon the prince's shoulder, and looking anxiously into his face. "You will not endanger the great cause for which we have fought together by the interference of petty personal jealousies. No, Max Emmanuel, you are too magnanimous to sacrifice the interests of Christendom to such considerations. Moreover, you have gained too much renown as a general, to be overshadowed by the reputation of any man."
"I do not know THAT. I only know that the Duke of Lorraine is in my way, and that for the future he must stand aside, or I resign my commission in the imperial army. But these are matters of future discussion. We will postpone this altercation until the opening of our next campaign. Meanwhile—do you know what brought me hither this morning? I come to snatch you away from cold contemplation, and introduce you to society."
"I have no taste for society," replied Eugene, shrinking from the very thought. "I love solitude; and mine is peopled with delicious visions of the past, as well as glorious aspirations for the future."
"Of what nature are your aspirations? They point to military distinction, I hope. Do they not?"
"Yes; and I trust that I shall attain it honorably. Fate will assign me my place; the rest remains for me to do. I have too much to learn, to mingle with the world."
"Man learns not only through the study of books, but through that of human nature," exclaimed Max Emmanuel; "and you need never hope for greatness unless you gain knowledge of the world. I have come to entice you away, and I will not be refused."
"Whither would you entice me?" asked Eugene, smiling.
"To the paradise of pleasure and of lovely women—to Venice!"
Eugene started, and a glow overspread his pale face. "To Venice!" echoed he. "To Venice!"
"Ay, prince—to Venice," repeated Max Emmanuel. "To live over the
'Arabian Nights,' by joining the great carnival."