(All go out but Napoleon)
Lou. These kings I ’ve called here to a dance must lead
A funeral. What can I say to them?
To Austria—his brother! England—his own cousin!
To Belgium—her brother! Spain— O, all
The world, that loved him!... An Emperor—and shot.
(Musical procession passes in street. Shouts of ‘Vive l’ empereur! Vive l’ empereur!’)
He too heard shouts like those—saw fires ascend
To write his triumph—ay—and he is cold—
Quite cold—shot dead.... Carlotta! prophetess!
I feel—I know—thy oracle ’s from God!
(Falls at the foot of the imperial chair)
(CURTAIN)
Scene II: Miramar. A balcony overlooking the sea. Lady Maria alone.
Mar. Here they went out together—arm in arm,—
Sweet, healing spirits to a bleeding land.
Down yonder terrace to the sea they passed,—
He unto death, and she—to—(Sighs deeply)
Car. (Without) Cousin!
Mar. Ah!