And these are not my people
who surround me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the
passing scarce a finger mark in the dust of time."
"Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be
stone and rule with a rod of iron. Make the people fear you,
since they refuse to love you; be stone."
"You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead."
"Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could
the fires of ambition light your soul!"
"My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only
a coal remains."
And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp
green lawns to the beds of flowers, where, followed by a maid at
a respectful distance, a slim young girl in white was cutting
the hardy geraniums, dahlias and seed poppies.
"God knows what her legacy will be!"
"It is for you to make it, Sire."
Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came toward
them, her arms laden with flowers. She was at the age of ten,
with a beautiful, serious face, which some might have called
prophetic. Her hair was dark, shining like coal and purple, and
gossamer in its fineness; her skin had the blue-whiteness of
milk; while from under long black lashes two luminous brown eyes
looked thoughtfully at the world.
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