How still was it in the music-room, how full and touching was the
voice of the queen as she began the last verse:
"Oh, sleep, my child, now so to sleep. Thy crying grieves my heart;
Thy mother, child, has cause to weep, But sleep and feel no smart."
[Footnote: "Dors, mon enfant, clos ta paupiere, Tes cris me
dechirent la coeur; Dors, mon enfant, ta pauvre more A bien assez de
sa douleur."]
All was still in the music-room when the last words were sung;
motionless, with downcast eyes, sat the dauphin long after the sad
voice of the queen had ceased.
"Ah, see," cried Madame Elizabeth, with a smile, "I believe now our
Louis has fallen asleep."
But the child quickly raised his head and looked at the smiling
young princess with a reproachful glance.
"Ah, my dear aunt," cried he, reprovingly, "how could any one sleep
when mamma sings?" [Footnote: The dauphin's own words.--See
Beauchesne, vol. i., p. 27.]
Marie Antoinette drew the child within her arms, and her countenance
beamed with delight. Never had the queen received so grateful a
compliment from the most flattering courtier as these words of her
fair-haired boy conveyed, who threw his arms around her neck and
nestled up to her.
The Queen of France is still a rich, enviable woman, for she has
children who love her; the Queen of France ought not to look without
courage into the future, for the future belongs to her son.
Pages:
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405