The King of Rome. Charles Desnoyer
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BORGO PRESS BOOKS BY CHARLES DESNOYER
Joan of Arc: A Play in Five Acts
The King of Rome: A Play in Five Acts (with Léon Beauvallet)
Also of Interest:
Napoléon Bonaparte: A Play in Five Acts, by Alexandre Dumas
COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2001, 2012 by Frank J. Morlock
Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidebooks.com
DEDICATION
For my only son, Miles, with love
CAST OF CHARACTERS
EMPEROR NAPOLEON (I)
MARSHALL BERTHIER
DOCTOR YVAN, Doctor to the Emperor
MICHEL LAMBERT, also as MATHIAS WERNER
FIRST USHER
SECOND USHER
MADAME ROBERT
A LADY OF HONOR
NAPOLEON (II), KING OF ROME, DUKE OF REICHSTADT (aged 17-21)
THE GHOST OF NAPOLEON (I)
ABBÉ ORSINI
BARON DE RHEINFELD
PRIME MINISTER
ARCHDUKE CHARLES
INFANT OF PORTUGAL
JOSÉ, his factotum
THE DOCTOR, Doctor to the Duke of Reichstadt
BIRMAN, The Duke’s valet
FOUR CONSPIRATORS, friends of Michel Lambert
JEANNE Muller, a young orphan adopted by Michel Lambert
PROLOGUE, 1811 - 1814
SCENE 1. THE CANNON OF THE INVALIDES
The Tuilleries, March 20, 1811. A room. In the back a balcony giving on a garden. Entry doors left and right. Marshall Berthier is conversing with a Lady of Honor. Diverse groups of general officers and ladies. Michel Lambert, grenadier of the imperial guard is on duty by the entry door at the right.
LADY OF HONOR:
Well, Marshall, what news from outside? What are the feelings of the Parisian population?
BERTHIER:
The same as ours, Madame! The nation associates itself heartily with the great idea of its sovereign! It sees itself reigning and triumphing in him. And the heir that he demands, it knows is for itself a guarantee of its future glory and security.
LADY OF HONOR:
Oh! May his hopes and ours be realized.
MICHEL LAMBERT:
(aside) We will have a son, that’s certain. A Little Emperor, nothing less!
BERTHIER:
Oh how many wishes, how many wishes at this moment for and against!
LADY OF HONOR:
What are you saying? All France wants a son.
BERTHIER:
France, yes! But Europe? What is its thought? Who can tell?
MICHEL LAMBERT:
(aside, laughing) Europe! We must get its permission right away, excuse us! (the door opens at the right and two ushers appear)
USHER:
(announcing) The Emperor!
(Napoleon enters, everyone moves aside and bows as he passes. The Emperor is pale; he seems exhausted with fatigue and emotion. He bows without speaking and sits at the right. From the Emperor’s entrance, Michel Lambert remains motionless before the door. Deep silence.)
NAPOLEON:
(after a long silence, turns) Hello, gentlemen. (noticing Berthier) Hello, Berthier!
BERTHIER:
(bowing) Sire!
NAPOLEON:
(moved) Your hand! Your hand, my old friend!
BERTHIER:
(coming forward and pressing Napoleon’s hand) You are upset, Sire?
NAPOLEON:
Upset! Yes! I spent the night with the Empress! Poor woman. I wept. I wept for the first time!
MICHEL LAMBERT:
(drying his eyes) Come on, good! Here I am crying, too! (The Emperor goes to the window and looks out for some time in silence)
NAPOLEON:
They are all there! Awaiting with impatience for the cannon to sound and announce to the world whether the dynasty of Napoleon must perpetuate itself or die out. (he walks up and down with agitation) Oh, a son! a son! I will have one! The prayers of the people are a sure guarantee of it. Today, especially, their love for me is revealed in its entirety. For them I am no longer the conqueror, the triumpher, I am not coming, brow covered with laurels, from Wagram and Austerlitz; no—no dazzling success, no intoxicating battle, my only title to their good wishes and prayers is my love for that child who does not yet exist, and who absorbs in me all the joys of victory, all the pleasures of triumph. (turning to Berthier)
BERTHIER:
(advancing) Sire!
NAPOLEON:
What are they saying in Paris?
BERTHIER:
All the churches are filled with an enthusiastic crowd which mingles your name with its prayers.
NAPOLEON:
Yes! I know the people love me. They share my joys, my hopes, as they share my sorrows. Ah, if you knew, friend, what my anxiety has been since yesterday. Each hour that passes is a century for me! Don’t think, friend, don’t think that a vain personal ambition makes me demand a son! No, no. My ambition is noble and great! When carried by the French people on the imperial shield I accepted the mission which was confided to me; I took an oath to accomplish it! Well, a bullet can carry me off; a knife blow will suffice to stop me in my path; at my death my victories are lost, my works nullified, my plans of reform and civilization impossible. I want to leave this heritage to my son. I intend that after me, the suffering people shall find in him a tireless defender. I intend that the old order, sapped by me in its foundations, will collapse entirely beneath his efforts, swallowing all those privileges of ignorance, all those stale doctrines, all those abuses of absolutism, and that in the midst of these ruins, surging to the voice of the son of Bonaparte, a new world, regenerated and palpitating with enthusiasm, patriotism and truth—
DOCTOR YVAN:
(entering from the right) Sire! Sire!
NAPOLEON:
Doctor! Why this concern? This agitation?
DOCTOR YVAN:
Sire, a great danger threatens the Empress.
NAPOLEON:
What are you saying?
DOCTOR YVAN:
To save the child and the mother at the same time may be impossible.
NAPOLEON:
Impossible! Above all, my God! Above all, save the mother! Come, come, Doctor!
(Napoleon leaves quickly followed by Doctor Yvan. General consternation.)
BERTHIER:
O dreams of the future? What’s become of you now?
LADY