(To PROKESCH.) There! (To the LACKEY.) I'm not going out. (The LACKEY disappears.) (PROKESCH: They let you read?) Oh, anything. The days are past when Fanny, That I might learn, learnt history by heart. And, later, books were handed me in secret. (PROKESCH: The good Archduchess--?) Every day a book. Locked safe all night I read it. I was drunk! When it was finished, to conceal my crime, I tossed it on the tester's canopy, And there the heap grew, hidden in the darkness; I slept beneath a dome of history. All day the heap lay quiet, but at night, When I was sleeping, it began to stir, And from the pages clamorous with battles. The battles issued, stretching torpid wings; And laurels showered upon my slumbering eyes. Austerlitz gleamed among my curtains, Jena Glowed in the gilded tassels holding them And on a sudden lapsed into my dream. Till once, when Metternich was gravely telling His version of my father's history, Down comes my canopy crushed by the glory; A hundred volumes with their fluttering pages Shouting one name!

The Duke Monologue from L'Aiglon

Rehearse The Duke's monologue