diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/dynst10.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/dynst10.txt | 30845 |
1 files changed, 30845 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/dynst10.txt b/old/dynst10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac17c14 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/dynst10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,30845 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Dynasts, by Thomas Hardy +#24 in our series by Thomas Hardy + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. The words +are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they +need about what they can legally do with the texts. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These Etexts Are Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below, including for donations. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3) +organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541 + + + +Title: The Dynasts + +Author: Thomas Hardy + +Release Date: May, 2003 [Etext #4043] +[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule] +[The actual date this file first posted = 10/19/01] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Dynasts, by Thomas Hardy +****This file should be named dynst10.txt or dynst10.zip*** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, dynst11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, dynst10a.txt + +This etext was produced by Douglas Levy. + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our books one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after +the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our sites at: +http://gutenberg.net +http://promo.net/pg + + +Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement +can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 +or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release fifty new Etext +files per month, or 500 more Etexts in 2000 for a total of 3000+ +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +should reach over 300 billion Etexts given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 4,000 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of July 12, 2001 contributions are only being solicited from people in: +Arkansas, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Idaho, +Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, Minnesota, +Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, North +Carolina, Ohio, Oklahoma, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Carolina*, South Dakota, +Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, +Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +*In Progress + +We have filed in about 45 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, +additions to this list will be made and fund raising +will begin in the additional states. Please feel +free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork +to legally request donations in all 50 states. If +your state is not listed and you would like to know +if we have added it since the list you have, just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in +states where we are not yet registered, we know +of no prohibition against accepting donations +from donors in these states who approach us with +an offer to donate. + + +International donations are accepted, +but we don't know ANYTHING about how +to make them tax-deductible, or +even if they CAN be made deductible, +and don't have the staff to handle it +even if there are ways. + +All donations should be made to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3) +organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541, +and has been approved as a 501(c)(3) organization by the US Internal +Revenue Service (IRS). Donations are tax-deductible to the maximum +extent permitted by law. As the requirements for other states are met, +additions to this list will be made and fund raising will begin in the +additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +*** + + +Example command-line FTP session: + +ftp ftp.ibiblio.org +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 or etext00 through etext02, etc. +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etexts, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this etext, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the etext, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by Douglas Levy. + + + + + +THE DYNASTS + + + +AN EPIC-DRAMA OF THE WAR WITH NAPOLEON, + IN THREE PARTS, NINETEEN ACTS, AND + ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY SCENES + + +The Time covered by the Action being about ten Years + + + +"And I heard sounds of insult, shame, and wrong, + And trumpets blown for wars." + + + + +PREFACE + + +The Spectacle here presented in the likeness of a Drama is concerned +with the Great Historical Calamity, or Clash of Peoples, artificially +brought about some hundred years ago. + +The choice of such a subject was mainly due to three accidents of +locality. It chanced that the writer was familiar with a part of +England that lay within hail of the watering-place in which King +George the Third had his favourite summer residence during the war +with the first Napoleon, and where he was visited by ministers and +others who bore the weight of English affairs on their more or less +competent shoulders at that stressful time. Secondly, this district, +being also near the coast which had echoed with rumours of invasion +in their intensest form while the descent threatened, was formerly +animated by memories and traditions of the desperate military +preparations for that contingency. Thirdly, the same countryside +happened to include the village which was the birthplace of Nelson's +flag-captain at Trafalgar. + +When, as the first published result of these accidents, _The Trumpet +Major_ was printed, more than twenty years ago, I found myself in +the tantalizing position of having touched the fringe of a vast +international tragedy without being able, through limits of plan, +knowledge, and opportunity, to enter further into its events; a +restriction that prevailed for many years. But the slight regard +paid to English influence and action throughout the struggle by +those Continental writers who had dealt imaginatively with Napoleon's +career, seemed always to leave room for a new handling of the theme +which should re-embody the features of this influence in their true +proportion; and accordingly, on a belated day about six years back, +the following drama was outlined, to be taken up now and then at wide +intervals ever since. + +It may, I think, claim at least a tolerable fidelity to the facts of +its date as they are give in ordinary records. Whenever any evidence +of the words really spoken or written by the characters in their +various situations was attainable, as close a paraphrase has been +aimed at as was compatible with the form chosen. And in all cases +outside the oral tradition, accessible scenery, and existing relics, +my indebtedness for detail to the abundant pages of the historian, +the biographer, and the journalist, English and Foreign, has been, +of course, continuous. + +It was thought proper to introduce, as supernatural spectators +of the terrestrial action, certain impersonated abstractions, or +Intelligences, called Spirits. They are intended to be taken by the +reader for what they may be worth as contrivances of the fancy merely. +Their doctrines are but tentative, and are advanced with little eye +to a systematized philosophy warranted to lift "the burthen of the +mystery" of this unintelligible world. The chief thing hoped for +them is that they and their utterances may have dramatic plausibility +enough to procure for them, in the words of Coleridge, "that willing +suspension of disbelief for the moment which constitutes poetic +faith." The wide prevalence of the Monistic theory of the Universe +forbade, in this twentieth century, the importation of Divine +personages from any antique Mythology as ready-made sources or +channels of Causation, even in verse, and excluded the celestial +machinery of, say, _Paradise Lost_, as peremptorily as that of the +_Iliad_ or the _Eddas_. And the abandonment of the masculine pronoun +in allusions to the First or Fundamental Energy seemed a necessary +and logical consequence of the long abandonment by thinkers of the +anthropomorphic conception of the same. + +These phantasmal Intelligences are divided into groups, of which one +only, that of the Pities, approximates to "the Universal Sympathy of +human nature--the spectator idealized"(1) of the Greek Chorus; it is +impressionable and inconsistent in its views, which sway hither and +thither as wrought on by events. Another group approximates to the +passionless Insight of the Ages. The remainder are eclectically +chosen auxiliaries whose signification may be readily discerned. +In point of literary form, the scheme of contrasted Choruses and +other conventions of this external feature was shaped with a single +view to the modern expression of a modern outlook, and in frank +divergence from classical and other dramatic precedent which ruled +the ancient voicings of ancient themes. + +It may hardly be necessary to inform readers that in devising this +chronicle-piece no attempt has been made to create that completely +organic structure of action, and closely-webbed development of +character and motive, which are demanded in a drama strictly self- +contained. A panoramic show like the present is a series of historical +"ordinates" (to use a term in geometry): the subject is familiar to +all; and foreknowledge is assumed to fill in the junctions required +to combine the scenes into an artistic unity. Should the mental +spectator be unwilling or unable to do this, a historical presentment +on an intermittent plan, in which the _dramatis personae_ number some +hundreds, exclusive of crowds and armies, becomes in his individual +case unsuitable. + +In this assumption of a completion of the action by those to whom +the drama is addressed, it is interesting, if unnecessary, to name +an exemplar as old as Aeschylus, whose plays are, as Dr. Verrall +reminds us,(2) scenes from stories taken as known, and would be +unintelligible without supplementary scenes of the imagination. + +Readers will readily discern, too, that _The Dynasts_ is intended +simply for mental performance, and not for the stage. Some critics +have averred that to declare a drama(3) as being not for the stage is +to make an announcement whose subject and predicate cancel each +other. The question seems to be an unimportant matter of terminology. +Compositions cast in this shape were, without doubt, originally +written for the stage only, and as a consequence their nomenclature +of "Act," "Scene," and the like, was drawn directly from the vehicle +of representation. But in the course of time such a shape would +reveal itself to be an eminently readable one; moreover, by dispensing +with the theatre altogether, a freedom of treatment was attainable +in this form that was denied where the material possibilities of +stagery had to be rigorously remembered. With the careless +mechanicism of human speech, the technicalities of practical mumming +were retained in these productions when they had ceased to be +concerned with the stage at all. + +To say, then, in the present case, that a writing in play-shape is +not to be played, is merely another way of stating that such writing +has been done in a form for which there chances to be no brief +definition save one already in use for works that it superficially +but not entirely resembles. + +Whether mental performance alone may not eventually be the fate of +all drama other than that of contemporary or frivolous life, is a +kindred question not without interest. The mind naturally flies to +the triumphs of the Hellenic and Elizabethan theatre in exhibiting +scenes laid "far in the Unapparent," and asks why they should not +be repeated. But the meditative world is older, more invidious, +more nervous, more quizzical, than it once was, and being unhappily +perplexed by-- + + + Riddles of Death Thebes never knew, + + +may be less ready and less able than Hellas and old England were to +look through the insistent, and often grotesque, substance at the +thing signified. + +In respect of such plays of poesy and dream a practicable compromise +may conceivably result, taking the shape of a monotonic delivery of +speeches, with dreamy conventional gestures, something in the manner +traditionally maintained by the old Christmas mummers, the curiously +hypnotizing impressiveness of whose automatic style--that of persons +who spoke by no will of their own--may be remembered by all who ever +experienced it. Gauzes or screens to blur outlines might still +further shut off the actual, as has, indeed, already been done in +exceptional cases. But with this branch of the subject we are not +concerned here. + +T.H. +September 1903. + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + +THE DYNASTS: AN EPIC-DRAMA OF THE WAR WITH NAPOLEON + + + +Preface + + +PART FIRST + + +Characters + + +Fore Scene. The Overworld + + +Act First:-- + + Scene I. England. A Ridge in Wessex + " II. Paris. Office of the Minister of Marine + " III. London. The Old House of Commons + " IV. The Harbour of Boulogne + " V. London. The House of a Lady of Quality + " IV. Milan. The Cathedral + + +Act Second:-- + + Scene I. The Dockyard, Gibraltar + " II. Off Ferrol + " III. The Camp and Harbour of Boulogne + " IV. South Wessex. A Ridge-like Down near the Coast + " V. The Same. Rainbarrows' Beacon, Egdon Heath + + +Act Third:-- + + Scene I. The Chateau at Pont-de-Briques + " II. The Frontiers of Upper Austria and Bavaria + " III. Boulogne. The St. Omer Road + + +Act Fourth:-- + + Scene I. King George's Watering-place, South Wessex + " II. Before the City of Ulm + " III. Ulm. Within the City + " IV. Before Ulm. The Same Day + " V. The Same. The Michaelsberg + " VI. London. Spring Gardens + + +Act Fifth:-- + + Scene I. Off Cape Trafalgar + " II. The Same. The Quarter-deck of the "Victory" + " III. The Same. On Board the "Bucentaure" + " IV. The Same. The Cockpit of the "Victory" + " V. London. The Guildhall + " VI. An Inn at Rennes + " VII. King George's Watering-place, South Wessex + + +Act Sixth:-- + + Scene I. The Field of Austerlitz. The French Position + " II. The Same. The Russian Position + " III. The Same. The French Position + " IV. The Same. The Russian Position + " V. The Same. Near the Windmill of Paleny + " VI. Shockerwick House, near Bath + " VII. Paris. A Street leading to the Tuileries + " VIII. Putney. Bowling Green House + + + + + +PART SECOND + + +Characters + + +Act First:-- + + Scene I. London. Fox's Lodgings, Arlington Street + " II. The Route between London and Paris + " III. The Streets of Berlin + " IV. The Field of Jena + " V. Berlin. A Room overlooking a Public Place + " VI. The Same + " VII. Tilsit and the River Niemen + " VIII. The Same + + +Act Second:-- + + Scene I. The Pyrenees and Valleys adjoining + " II. Aranjuez, near Madrid. A Room in the Palace of + Godoy, the "Prince of Peace" + " III. London. The Marchioness of Salisbury's + " IV. Madrid and its Environs + " V. The Open Sea between the English Coasts and the + Spanish Peninsula + " VI. St. Cloud. The Boudoir of Josephine + " VII. Vimiero + + +Act Third:-- + + Scene I. Spain. A Road near Astorga + " II. The Same + " III. Before Coruna + " IV. Coruna. Near the Ramparts + " V. Vienna. A Cafe in the Stephans-Platz + + +Act Fourth:-- + + Scene I. A Road out of Vienna + " II. The Island of Lobau, with Wagram beyond + " III. The Field of Wagram + " IV. The Field of Talavera + " V. The Same + " VI. Brighton. The Royal Pavilion + " VII. The Same + " VIII. Walcheren + + +Act Fifth:-- + + Scene I. Paris. A Ballroom in the House of Cambaceres + " II. Paris. The Tuileries + " III. Vienna. A Private Apartment in the Imperial Palace + " IV. London. A Club in St. James's Street + " V. The old West Highway out of Vienna + " VI. Courcelles + " VII. Petersburg. The Palace of the Empress-Mother + " VIII. Paris. The Grand Gallery of the Louvre and the + Salon-Carre adjoining + + +Act Fifth:-- + + Scene I. The Lines of Torres Vedras + " II. The Same. Outside the Lines + " III. Paris. The Tuileries + " IV. Spain. Albuera + " V. Windsor Castle. A Room in the King's Apartments + " VI. London. Carlton House and the Streets adjoining + " VII. The Same. The Interior of Carlton House + + + + + +PART THIRD + + +Characters + + +Act First:-- + + Scene I. The Banks of the Niemen, near Kowno + " II. The Ford of Santa Marta, Salamanca + " III. The Field of Salamanca + " IV. The Field of Borodino + " V. The Same + " VI. Moscow + " VII. The Same. Outside the City + " VIII. The Same. The Interior of the Kremlin + " IX. The Road from Smolensko into Lithuania + " X. The Bridge of the Beresina + " XI. The Open Country between Smorgoni and Wilna + " XII. Paris. The Tuileries + + +Act Second:-- + + Scene I. The Plain of Vitoria + " II. The Same, from the Puebla Heights + " III. The Same. The Road from the Town + " IV. A Fete at Vauxhall Gardens + + +Act Third:-- + + Scene I. Leipzig. Napoleon's Quarters in the Reudnitz Suburb + " II. The Same. The City and the Battlefield + " III. The Same, from the Tower of the Pleissenburg + " IV. The Same. At the Thonberg Windmill + " V. The Same. A Street near the Ranstadt Gate + " VI. The Pyrenees. Near the River Nivelle + + +Act Fourth:-- + + Scene I. The Upper Rhine + " II. Paris. The Tuileries + " III. The Same. The Apartments of the Empress + " IV. Fontainebleau. A Room in the Palace + " V. Bayonne. The British Camp + " VI. A Highway in the Outskirts of Avignon + " VII. Malmaison. The Empress Josephine's Bedchamber + " VIII. London. The Opera-House + + +Act Fifth:-- + + Scene I. Elba. The Quay, Porto Ferrajo + " II. Vienna. The Imperial Palace + " III. La Mure, near Grenoble + " IV. Schonbrunn + " V. London. The Old House of Commons + " VI. Wessex. Durnover Green, Casterbridge + + +Act Sixth:-- + + Scene I. The Belgian Frontier + " II. A Ballroom in Brussels + " III. Charleroi. Napoleon's Quarters + " IV. A Chamber overlooking a Main Street in Brussels + " V. The Field of Ligny + " VI. The Field of Quatre-Bras + " VII. Brussels. The Place Royale + " VIII. The Road to Waterloo + + +Act Seventh:-- + + Scene I. The Field of Waterloo + " II. The Same. The French Position + " III. Saint Lambert's Chapel Hill + " IV. The Field of Waterloo. The English Position + " V. The Same. The Women's Camp near Mont Saint-Jean + " VI. The Same. The French Position + " VII. The Same. The English Position + " VIII. The Same. Later + " IX. The Wood of Bossu + + +After Scene. The Overworld + + + + + +PART FIRST + + + +CHARACTERS + + +I. PHANTOM INTELLIGENCES + + + THE ANCIENT SPIRIT OF THE YEARS/CHORUS OF THE YEARS. + + THE SPIRIT OF THE PITIES/CHORUS OF THE PITIES. + + SPIRITS SINISTER AND IRONIC/CHORUSES OF SINISTER AND IRONIC SPIRITS. + + THE SPIRIT OF RUMOUR/CHORUS OF RUMOURS. + + THE SHADE OF THE EARTH. + + SPIRIT-MESSENGERS. + + RECORDING ANGELS. + + +II. PERSONS (The names in lower case are mute figures.) + + +MEN + + GEORGE THE THIRD. + The Duke of Cumberland + PITT. + FOX. + SHERIDAN. + WINDHAM. + WHITBREAD. + TIERNEY. + BATHURST AND FULLER. + Lord Chancellor Eldon. + EARL OF MALMESBURY. + LORD MULGRAVE. + ANOTHER CABINET MINISTER. + Lord Grenville. + Viscount Castlereagh. + Viscount Sidmouth. + ANOTHER NOBLE LORD. + ROSE. + Canning. + Perceval. + Grey. + Speaker Abbot. + TOMLINE, BISHOP OF LINCOLN. + SIR WALTER FARQUHAR. + Count Munster. + Other Peers, Ministers, ex-Ministers, Members of Parliament, + and Persons of Quality. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + NELSON. + COLLINGWOOD. + HARDY. + SECRETARY SCOTT. + DR. BEATTY. + DR. MAGRATH. + DR. ALEXANDER SCOTT. + BURKE, PURSER. + Lieutenant Pasco. + ANOTHER LIEUTENANT. + POLLARD, A MIDSHIPMAN. + Captain Adair. + Lieutenants Ram and Whipple. + Other English Naval Officers. + Sergeant-Major Secker and Marines. + Staff and other Officers of the English Army. + A COMPANY OF SOLDIERS. + Regiments of the English Army and Hanoverian. + SAILORS AND BOATMEN. + A MILITIAMAN. + Naval Crews. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + The Lord Mayor and Corporation of London. + A GENTLEMAN OF FASHION. + WILTSHIRE, A COUNTRY GENTLEMAN + A HORSEMAN. + TWO BEACON-WATCHERS. + ENGLISH CITIZENS AND BURGESSES. + COACH AND OTHER HIGHWAY PASSENGERS. + MESSENGERS, SERVANTS, AND RUSTICS. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + DARU, NAPOLEON'S WAR SECRETARY. + LAURISTON, AIDE-DE-CAMP. + MONGE, A PHILOSOPHER. + BERTHIER. + MURAT, BROTHER-IN-LAW OF NAPOLEON. + SOULT. + NEY. + LANNES. + Bernadotte. + Marmont. + Dupont. + Oudinot. + Davout. + Vandamme. + Other French Marshals. + A SUB-OFFICER. + +. . . . . . . . . . + + VILLENEUVE, NAPOLEON'S ADMIRAL. + DECRES, MINISTER OF MARINE. + FLAG-CAPTAIN MAGENDIE. + LIEUTENANT DAUDIGNON. + LIEUTENANT FOURNIER. + Captain Lucas. + OTHER FRENCH NAVAL OFFICERS AND PETTY OFFICERS. + Seamen of the French and Spanish Navies. + Regiments of the French Army. + COURIERS. + HERALDS. + Aides, Officials, Pages, etc. + ATTENDANTS. + French Citizens. + +. . . . . . . . . . + + CARDINAL CAPRARA. + Priests, Acolytes, and Choristers. + Italian Doctors and Presidents of Institutions. + Milanese Citizens. + +. . . . . . . . . . + + THE EMPEROR FRANCIS. + THE ARCHDUKE FERDINAND. + Prince John of Lichtenstien. + PRINCE SCHWARZENBERG. + MACK, AUSTRIAN GENERAL. + JELLACHICH. + RIESC. + WEIROTHER. + ANOTHER AUSTRIAN GENERAL. + TWO AUSTRIAN OFFICERS. + +. . . . . . . . . . + + The Emperor Alexander. + PRINCE KUTUZOF, RUSSIAN FIELD-MARSHAL. + COUNT LANGERON. + COUNT BUXHOVDEN. + COUNT MILORADOVICH. + DOKHTOROF. + +. . . . . . . . . . + + Giulay, Gottesheim, Klenau, and Prschebiszewsky. + Regiments of the Austrian Army. + Regiments of the Russian Army. + + +WOMEN + + Queen Charlotte. + English Princesses. + Ladies of the English Court. + LADY HESTER STANHOPE. + A LADY. + Lady Caroline Lamb, Mrs. Damer, and other English Ladies. + +. . . . . . . . . . + + THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. + Princesses and Ladies of Josephine's Court. + Seven Milanese Young Ladies. + +. . . . . . . . . . + + City- and Towns-women. + Country-women. + A MILITIAMAN'S WIFE. + A STREET-WOMAN. + Ship-women. + Servants. + + + + +FORE SCENE + + +THE OVERWORLD + + + [Enter the Ancient Spirit and Chorus of the Years, the Spirit + and Chorus of the Pities, the Shade of the Earth, the Spirits + Sinister and Ironic with their Choruses, Rumours, Spirit- + Messengers, and Recording Angels.] + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + What of the Immanent Will and Its designs? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + It works unconsciously, as heretofore, + Eternal artistries in Circumstance, + Whose patterns, wrought by rapt aesthetic rote, + Seem in themselves Its single listless aim, + And not their consequence. + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + Still thus? Still thus? + Ever unconscious! + An automatic sense + Unweeting why or whence? + Be, then, the inevitable, as of old, + Although that SO it be we dare not hold! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Hold what ye list, fond believing Sprites, + You cannot swerve the pulsion of the Byss, + Which thinking on, yet weighing not Its thought, + Unchecks Its clock-like laws. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER (aside) + + Good, as before. + My little engines, then, will still have play. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Why doth It so and so, and ever so, + This viewless, voiceless Turner of the Wheel? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + As one sad story runs, It lends Its heed + To other worlds, being wearied out with this; + Wherefore Its mindlessness of earthly woes. + Some, too, have told at whiles that rightfully + Its warefulness, Its care, this planet lost + When in her early growth and crudity + By bad mad acts of severance men contrived, + Working such nescience by their own device.-- + Yea, so it stands in certain chronicles, + Though not in mine. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Meet is it, none the less, + To bear in thought that though Its consciousness + May be estranged, engrossed afar, or sealed, + Sublunar shocks may wake Its watch anon? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Nay. In the Foretime, even to the germ of Being, + Nothing appears of shape to indicate + That cognizance has marshalled things terrene, + Or will (such is my thinking) in my span. + Rather they show that, like a knitter drowsed, + Whose fingers play in skilled unmindfulness, + The Will has woven with an absent heed + Since life first was; and ever will so weave. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + Hence we've rare dramas going--more so since + It wove Its web in the Ajaccian womb! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Well, no more this on what no mind can mete. + Our scope is but to register and watch + By means of this great gift accorded us-- + The free trajection of our entities. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + On things terrene, then, I would say that though + The human news wherewith the Rumours stirred us + May please thy temper, Years, 'twere better far + Such deeds were nulled, and this strange man's career + Wound up, as making inharmonious jars + In her creation whose meek wraith we know. + The more that he, turned man of mere traditions, + Now profits naught. For the large potencies + Instilled into his idiosyncrasy-- + To throne fair Liberty in Privilege' room-- + Are taking taint, and sink to common plots + For his own gain. + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + And who, then, Cordial One, + Wouldst substitute for this Intractable? + + +CHORUS OF THE EARTH + + We would establish those of kindlier build, + In fair Compassions skilled, + Men of deep art in life-development; + Watchers and warders of thy varied lands, + Men surfeited of laying heavy hands, + Upon the innocent, + The mild, the fragile, the obscure content + Among the myriads of thy family. + Those, too, who love the true, the excellent, + And make their daily moves a melody. + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + They may come, will they. I am not averse. + Yet know I am but the ineffectual Shade + Of her the Travailler, herself a thrall + To It; in all her labourings curbed and kinged! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Shall such be mooted now? Already change + Hath played strange pranks since first I brooded here. + But old Laws operate yet; and phase and phase + Of men's dynastic and imperial moils + Shape on accustomed lines. Though, as for me, + I care not thy shape, or what they be. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + You seem to have small sense of mercy, Sire? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Mercy I view, not urge;--nor more than mark + What designate your titles Good and Ill. + 'Tis not in me to feel with, or against, + These flesh-hinged mannikins Its hand upwinds + To click-clack off Its preadjusted laws; + But only through my centuries to behold + Their aspects, and their movements, and their mould. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + They are shapes that bleed, mere mannikins or no, + And each has parcel in the total Will. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Which overrides them as a whole its parts + In other entities. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER (aside) + + Limbs of Itself: + Each one a jot of It in quaint disguise? + I'll fear all men henceforward! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Go to. Let this terrestrial tragedy-- + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Nay, Comedy-- + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Let this earth-tragedy + Whereof we spake, afford a spectacle + Forthwith conned closelier than your custom is.-- + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + How does it stand? (To a Recording Angel) + Open and chant the page + Thou'st lately writ, that sums these happenings, + In brief reminder of their instant points + Slighted by us amid our converse here. + + +RECORDING ANGEL (from a book, in recitative) + + Now mellow-eyed Peace is made captive, + And Vengeance is chartered + To deal forth its dooms on the Peoples + With sword and with spear. + + Men's musings are busy with forecasts + Of muster and battle, + And visions of shock and disaster + Rise red on the year. + + The easternmost ruler sits wistful, + And tense he to midward; + The King to the west mans his borders + In front and in rear. + + While one they eye, flushed from his crowning, + Ranks legions around him + To shake the enisled neighbour nation + And close her career! + + +SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + O woven-winged squadrons of Toulon + And fellows of Rochefort, + Wait, wait for a wind, and draw westward + Ere Nelson be near! + + For he reads not your force, or your freightage + Of warriors fell-handed, + Or when they will join for the onset, + Or whither they steer! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + O Nelson, so zealous a watcher + Through months-long of cruizing, + Thy foes may elide thee a moment, + Put forth, and get clear; + + And rendezvous westerly straightway + With Spain's aiding navies, + And hasten to head violation + Of Albion's frontier! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Methinks too much assurance thrills your note + On secrets in my locker, gentle sprites; + But it may serve.--Our thought being now reflexed + To forces operant on this English isle, + Behoves it us to enter scene by scene, + And watch the spectacle of Europe's moves + In her embroil, as they were self-ordained + According to the naive and liberal creed + Of our great-hearted young Compassionates, + Forgetting the Prime Mover of the gear, + As puppet-watchers him who pulls the strings.-- + You'll mark the twitchings of this Bonaparte + As he with other figures foots his reel, + Until he twitch him into his lonely grave: + Also regard the frail ones that his flings + Have made gyrate like animalcula + In tepid pools.--Hence to the precinct, then, + And count as framework to the stagery + Yon architraves of sunbeam-smitten cloud.-- + So may ye judge Earth's jackaclocks to be + No fugled by one Will, but function-free. + + [The nether sky opens, and Europe is disclosed as a prone and + emaciated figure, the Alps shaping like a backbone, and the + branching mountain-chains like ribs, the peninsular plateau of + Spain forming a head. Broad and lengthy lowlands stretch from + the north of France across Russia like a grey-green garment hemmed + by the Ural mountains and the glistening Arctic Ocean. + + The point of view then sinks downwards through space, and draws + near to the surface of the perturbed countries, where the peoples, + distressed by events which they did not cause, are seen writhing, + crawling, heaving, and vibrating in their various cities and + nationalities.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS (to the Spirit of the Pities) + + As key-scene to the whole, I first lay bare + The Will-webs of thy fearful questioning; + For know that of my antique privileges + This gift to visualize the Mode is one + (Though by exhaustive strain and effort only). + See, then, and learn, ere my power pass again. + + [A new and penetrating light descends on the spectacle, enduring + men and things with a seeming transparency, and exhibiting as one + organism the anatomy of life and movement in all humanity and + vitalized matter included in the display.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Amid this scene of bodies substantive + Strange waves I sight like winds grown visible, + Which bear men's forms on their innumerous coils, + Twining and serpenting round and through. + Also retracting threads like gossamers-- + Except in being irresistible-- + Which complicate with some, and balance all. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + These are the Prime Volitions,--fibrils, veins, + Will-tissues, nerves, and pulses of the Cause, + That heave throughout the Earth's compositure. + Their sum is like the lobule of a Brain + Evolving always that it wots not of; + A Brain whose whole connotes the Everywhere, + And whose procedure may but be discerned + By phantom eyes like ours; the while unguessed + Of those it stirs, who (even as ye do) dream + Their motions free, their orderings supreme; + Each life apart from each, with power to mete + Its own day's measures; balanced, self complete; + Though they subsist but atoms of the One + Labouring through all, divisible from none; + But this no further now. Deem yet man's deeds self-done. + + +GENERAL CHORUS OF INTELLIGENCES (aerial music) + + We'll close up Time, as a bird its van, + We'll traverse Space, as spirits can, + Link pulses severed by leagues and years, + Bring cradles into touch with biers; + So that the far-off Consequence appear + Prompt at the heel of foregone Cause.-- + The PRIME, that willed ere wareness was, + Whose Brain perchance is Space, whose Thought its laws, + Which we as threads and streams discern, + We may but muse on, never learn. + + + +END OF THE FORE SCENE + + + + +ACT FIRST + + +SCENE I + +ENGLAND. A RIDGE IN WESSEX + + [The time is a fine day in March 1805. A highway crosses the + ridge, which is near the sea, and the south coast is seen + bounding the landscape below, the open Channel extending beyond.] + + +SPIRITS OF THE YEARS + + Hark now, and gather how the martial mood + Stirs England's humblest hearts. Anon we'll trace + Its heavings in the upper coteries there. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +Ay; begin small, and so lead up to the greater. It is a sound +dramatic principle. I always aim to follow it in my pestilences, +fires, famines, and other comedies. And though, to be sure, I did +not in my Lisbon earthquake, I did in my French Terror, and my St. +Domingo burlesque. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + THY Lisbon earthquake, THY French Terror. Wait. + Thinking thou will'st, thou dost but indicate. + + [A stage-coach enters, with passengers outside. Their voices + after the foregoing sound small and commonplace, as from another + medium.] + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +There seems to be a deal of traffic over Ridgeway, even at this time +o' year. + + +SECOND PASSENGER + +Yes. It is because the King and Court are coming down here later +on. They wake up this part rarely! . . . See, now, how the Channel +and coast open out like a chart. That patch of mist below us is the +town we are bound for. There's the Isle of Slingers beyond, like a +floating snail. That wide bay on the right is where the "Abergavenny," +Captain John Wordsworth, was wrecked last month. One can see half +across to France up here. + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +Half across. And then another little half, and then all that's +behind--the Corsican mischief! + + +SECOND PASSENGER + +Yes. People who live hereabout--I am a native of these parts--feel +the nearness of France more than they do inland. + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +That's why we have seen so many of these marching regiments on the +road. This year his grandest attempt upon us is to be made, I reckon. + + +SECOND PASSENGER + +May we be ready! + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +Well, we ought to be. We've had alarms enough, God knows. + + [Some companies of infantry are seen ahead, and the coach presently + overtakes them.] + + +SOLDIERS (singing as they walk) + + We be the King's men, hale and hearty, + Marching to meet one Buonaparty; + If he won't sail, lest the wind should blow, + We shall have marched for nothing, O! + Right fol-lol! + + We be the King's men, hale and hearty, + Marching to meet one Buonaparty; + If he be sea-sick, says "No, no!" + We shall have marched for nothing, O! + Right fol-lol! + + [The soldiers draw aside, and the coach passes on.] + + +SECOND PASSENGER + +Is there truth in it that Bonaparte wrote a letter to the King last +month? + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +Yes, sir. A letter in his own hand, in which he expected the King +to reply to him in the same manner. + + +SOLDIERS (continuing, as they are left behind) + + We be the King's men, hale and hearty, + Marching to meet one Buonaparty; + Never mind, mates; we'll be merry, though + We may have marched for nothing, O! + Right fol-lol! + + +THIRD PASSENGER + +And was Boney's letter friendly? + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +Certainly, sir. He requested peace with the King. + + +THIRD PASSENGER + +And why shouldn't the King reply in the same manner? + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +What! Encourage this man in an act of shameless presumption, and +give him the pleasure of considering himself the equal of the King +of England--whom he actually calls his brother! + + +THIRD PASSENGER + +He must be taken for what he is, not for what he was; and if he calls +King George his brother it doesn't speak badly for his friendliness. + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +Whether or no, the King, rightly enough, did not reply in person, +but through Lord Mulgrave our Foreign Minister, to the effect that +his Britannic Majesty cannot give a specific answer till he has +communicated with the Continental powers. + + +THIRD PASSENGER + +Both the manner and the matter of the reply are British; but a huge +mistake. + + +FIRST PASSENGER + +Sir, am I to deem you a friend of Bonaparte, a traitor to your +country--- + + +THIRD PASSENGER + +Damn my wig, sir, if I'll be called a traitor by you or any Court +sycophant at all at all! + + [He unpacks a case of pistols.] + + +SECOND PASSENGER + +Gentlemen forbear, forbear! Should such differences be suffered to +arise on a spot where we may, in less than three months, be fighting +for our very existence? This is foolish, I say. Heaven alone, who +reads the secrets of this man's heart, can tell what his meaning and +intent may be, and if his letter has been answered wisely or no. + + [The coach is stopped to skid the wheel for the descent of the + hill, and before it starts again a dusty horseman overtakes it.] + + +SEVERAL PASSENGERS + +A London messenger! (To horseman) Any news, sir? We are from +Bristol only. + + +HORSEMAN + +Yes; much. We have declared war against Spain, an error giving +vast delight to France. Bonaparte says he will date his next +dispatches from London, and the landing of his army may be daily +expected. + + [Exit horseman.] + + +THIRD PASSENGER + +Sir, I apologize. He's not to be trusted! War is his name, and +aggression is with him! + + [He repacks the pistols. A silence follows. The coach and + passengers move downwards and disappear towards the coast.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Ill chanced it that the English monarch George + Did not respond to the said Emperor! + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + I saw good sport therein, and paean'd the Will + To unimpel so stultifying a move! + Which would have marred the European broil, + And sheathed all swords, and silenced every gun + That riddles human flesh. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + O say no more; + If aught could gratify the Absolute + 'Twould verily be thy censure, not thy praise! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + The ruling was that we should witness things + And not dispute them. To the drama, then. + Emprizes over-Channel are the key + To this land's stir and ferment.--Thither we. + + [Clouds gather over the scene, and slowly open elsewhere.] + + + +SCENE II + +PARIS. OFFICE OF THE MINISTER OF MARINE + + [ADMIRAL DECRES seated at a table. A knock without.] + + +DECRES + +Come in! Good news, I hope! + + [An attendant enters.] + + +ATTENDANT +A courier, sir. + + +DECRES + +Show him in straightway. + + [The attendant goes out.] + + From the Emperor +As I expected! + + +COURIER + + Sir, for your own hand +And yours alone. + + +DECRES + + Thanks. Be in waiting near. + + [The courier withdraws.] + + +DECRES reads: + +"I am resolved that no wild dream of Ind, +And what we there might win; or of the West, +And bold re-conquest there of Surinam +And other Dutch retreats along those coasts, +Or British islands nigh, shall draw me now +From piercing into England through Boulogne +As lined in my first plan. If I do strike, +I strike effectively; to forge which feat +There's but one way--planting a mortal wound +In England's heart--the very English land-- +Whose insolent and cynical reply +To my well-based complaint on breach of faith +Concerning Malta, as at Amiens pledged, +Has lighted up anew such flames of ire +As may involve the world.--Now to the case: +Our naval forces can be all assembled +Without the foe's foreknowledge or surmise, +By these rules following; to whose text I ask +Your gravest application; and, when conned, +That steadfastly you stand by word and word, +Making no question of one jot therein. + +"First, then, let Villeneuve wait a favouring wind +For process westward swift to Martinique, +Coaxing the English after. Join him there +Gravina, Missiessy, and Ganteaume; +Which junction once effected all our keels-- +While the pursuers linger in the West +At hopeless fault.--Having hoodwinked them thus, +Our boats skim over, disembark the army, +And in the twinkling of a patriot's eye +All London will be ours. + +"In strictest secrecy carve this to shape-- +Let never an admiral or captain scent +Save Villeneuve and Ganteaume; and pen each charge +With your own quill. The surelier to outwit them +I start for Italy; and there, as 'twere +Engrossed in fetes and Coronation rites, +Abide till, at the need, I reach Boulogne, +And head the enterprize.--NAPOLEON." + + [DECRES reflects, and turns to write.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + He buckles to the work. First to Villeneuve, + His onetime companion and his boyhood's friend, + Now lingering at Toulon, he jots swift lines, + The duly to Ganteaume.--They are sealed forthwith, + And superscribed: "Break not till on the main." + + [Boisterous singing is heard in the street.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I hear confused and simmering sounds without, + Like those which thrill the hives at evenfall + When swarming pends. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + They but proclaim the crowd, + Which sings and shouts its hot enthusiasms + For this dead-ripe design on England's shore, + Till the persuasion of its own plump words, + Acting upon mercurial temperaments, + Makes hope as prophecy. "Our Emperor + Will show himself (say they) in this exploit + Unwavering, keen, and irresistible + As is the lightning prong. Our vast flotillas + Have been embodied as by sorcery; + Soldiers made seamen, and the ports transformed + To rocking cities casemented with guns. + Against these valiants balance England's means: + Raw merchant-fellows from the counting-house, + Raw labourers from the fields, who thumb for arms + Clumsy untempered pikes forged hurriedly, + And cry them full-equipt. Their batteries, + Their flying carriages, their catamarans, + Shall profit not, and in one summer night + We'll find us there!" + + +RECORDING ANGEL + + And is this prophecy true? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Occasion will reveal. + + +SHADE OF EARTH + + What boots it, Sire, + To down this dynasty, set that one up, + Goad panting peoples to the throes thereof, + Make wither here my fruit, maintain it there, + And hold me travailling through fineless years + In vain and objectless monotony, + When all such tedious conjuring could be shunned + By uncreation? Howsoever wise + The governance of these massed mortalities, + A juster wisdom his who should have ruled + They had not been. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Nay, something hidden urged + The giving matter motion; and these coils + Are, maybe, good as any. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + But why any? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Sprite of Compassions, ask the Immanent! + I am but an accessory of Its works, + Whom the Ages render conscious; and at most + Figure as bounden witness of Its laws. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + How ask the aim of unrelaxing Will? + Tranced in Its purpose to unknowingness? + (If thy words, Ancient Phantom, token true.) + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Thou answerest well. But cease to ask of me. + Meanwhile the mime proceeds.--We turn herefrom, + Change our homuncules, and observe forthwith + How the High Influence sways the English realm, + And how the jacks lip out their reasonings there. + + [The Cloud-curtain draws.] + + + +SCENE III + +LONDON. THE OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS + + [A long chamber with a gallery on each side supported by thin + columns having gilt Ionic capitals. Three round-headed windows + are at the further end, above the Speaker's chair, which is backed + by a huge pedimented structure in white and gilt, surmounted by the + lion and the unicorn. The windows are uncurtained, one being open, + through which some boughs are seen waving in the midnight gloom + without. Wax candles, burnt low, wave and gutter in a brass + chandelier which hangs from the middle of the ceiling, and in + branches projecting from the galleries. + + The House is sitting, the benches, which extend round to the + Speaker's elbows, being closely packed, and the galleries + likewise full. Among the members present on the Government + side are PITT and other ministers with their supporters, + including CANNING, CASTLEREAGH, LORD C. SOMERSET, ERSKINE, + W. DUNDAS, HUSKISSON, ROSE, BEST, ELLIOT, DALLAS, and the + general body of the party. On the opposite side are noticeable + FOX, SHERIDAN, WINDHAM, WHITBREAD, GREY, T. GRENVILLE, TIERNEY, + EARL TEMPLE, PONSONBY, G. AND H. WALPOLE, DUDLEY NORTH, and + TIMOTHY SHELLEY. Speaker ABBOT occupies the Chair.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + As prelude to the scene, as means to aid + Our younger comrades in its construing, + Pray spread your scripture, and rehearse in brief + The reasonings here of late--to whose effects + Words of to-night form sequence. + + [The Recording Angels chant from their books, antiphonally, in a + minor recitative.] + + +ANGEL I (aerial music) + + Feeble-framed dull unresolve, unresourcefulness, + Sat in the halls of the Kingdom's high Councillors, + Whence the grey glooms of a ghost-eyed despondency + Wanned as with winter the national mind. + + +ANGEL II + + England stands forth to the sword of Napoleon + Nakedly--not an ally in support of her; + Men and munitions dispersed inexpediently; + Projects of range and scope poorly defined. + + +ANGEL I + + Once more doth Pitt deem the land crying loud to him.-- + Frail though and spent, and an-hungered for restfulness + Once more responds he, dead fervours to energize, + Aims to concentre, slack efforts to bind. + + +ANGEL II + + Ere the first fruit thereof grow audible, + Holding as hapless his dream of good guardianship, + Jestingly, earnestly, shouting it serviceless, + Tardy, inept, and uncouthly designed. + + +ANGELS I AND II + + So now, to-night, in slashing old sentences, + Hear them speak,--gravely these, those with gay-heartedness,-- + Midst their admonishments little conceiving how + Scarlet the scroll that the years will unwind! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES (to the Spirit of the Years) + + Let us put on and suffer for the nonce + The feverish fleshings of Humanity, + And join the pale debaters here convened. + So may thy soul be won to sympathy + By donning their poor mould. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + I'll humour thee, + Though my unpassioned essence could not change + Did I incarn in moulds of all mankind! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + +'Tis enough to make every little dog in England run to mixen to +hear this Pitt sung so strenuously! I'll be the third of the +incarnate, on the chance of hearing the tune played the other way. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +And I the fourth. There's sure to be something in my line toward, +where politicians gathered together! + + [The four Phantoms enter the Gallery of the House in the disguise + of ordinary strangers.] + + +SHERIDAN (rising) + +The Bill I would have leave to introduce +Is framed, sir, to repeal last Session's Act, +By party-scribes intituled a Provision +For England's Proper Guard; but elsewhere known +As Mr. Pitt's new Patent Parish Pill. (Laughter.) + +The ministerial countenances, I mark, +Congeal to dazed surprise at my straight motion-- +Why, passes sane conjecture. It may be +That, with a haughty and unwavering faith +In their own battering-rams of argument, +They deemed our buoyance whelmed, and sapped, and sunk +To our hope's sheer bottom, whence a miracle +Was all could friend and float us; or, maybe, +They are amazed at our rude disrespect +In making mockery of an English Law +Sprung sacred from the King's own Premier's brain! +--I hear them snort; but let them wince at will, +My duty must be done; shall be done quickly +By citing some few facts. + + An Act for our defence! +It weakens, not defends; and oversea +Swoln France's despot and his myrmidons +This moment know it, and can scoff thereat. +Our people know it too--those who can peer +Behind the scenes of this poor painted show +Called soldiering!--The Act has failed, must fail, +As my right honourable friend well proved +When speaking t'other night, whose silencing +By his right honourable _vis a vis_ +Was of the genuine Governmental sort, +And like the catamarans their sapience shaped +All fizzle and no harm. (Laughter.) The Act, in brief, +Effects this much: that the whole force of England +Is strengthened by--eleven thousand men! +So sorted that the British infantry +Are now eight hundred less than heretofore! + +In Ireland, where the glamouring influence +Of the right honourable gentleman +Prevails with magic might, ELEVEN men +Have been amassed. And in the Cinque-Port towns, +Where he is held in absolute veneration, +His method has so quickened martial fire +As to bring in--one man. O would that man +Might meet my sight! (Laughter.) A Hercules, no doubt, +A god-like emanation from this Act, +Who with his single arm will overthrow +All Buonaparte's legions ere their keels +Have scraped one pebble of our fortless shore! . . . +Such is my motion, sir, and such my mind. + +[He sits down amid cheers. The candle-snuffers go round, and Pitt +rises. During the momentary pause before he speaks the House assumes +an attentive stillness, in which can be heard the rustling of the +trees without, a horn from an early coach, and the voice of the watch +crying the hour.] + + +PITT + +Not one on this side but appreciates +Those mental gems and airy pleasantries +Flashed by the honourable gentleman, +Who shines in them by birthright. Each device +Of drollery he has laboured to outshape, +(Or treasured up from others who have shaped it,) +Displays that are the conjurings of the moment, +(Or mellowed and matured by sleeping on)-- +Dry hoardings in his book of commonplace, +Stored without stint of toil through days and months-- +He heaps into one mass, and light and fans +As fuel for his flaming eloquence, +Mouthed and maintained without a thought or care +If germane to the theme, or not at all. + +Now vain indeed it were should I assay +To match him in such sort. For, sir, alas, +To use imagination as the ground +Of chronicle, take myth and merry tale +As texts for prophecy, is not my gift +Being but a person primed with simple fact, +Unprinked by jewelled art.--But to the thing. + +The preparations of the enemy, +Doggedly bent to desolate our land, +Advance with a sustained activity. +They are seen, they are known, by you and by us all. +But they evince no clear-eyed tentative +In furtherance of the threat, whose coming off, +Ay, years may yet postpone; whereby the Act +Will far outstrip him, and the thousands called +Duly to join the ranks by its provisions, +In process sure, if slow, will ratch the lines +Of English regiments--seasoned, cool, resolved-- +To glorious length and firm prepotency. +And why, then, should we dream of its repeal +Ere profiting by its advantages? +Must the House listen to such wilding words +As this proposal, at the very hour +When the Act's gearing finds its ordered grooves +And circles into full utility? +The motion of the honourable gentleman +Reminds me aptly of a publican +Who should, when malting, mixing, mashing's past, +Fermenting, barrelling, and spigoting, +Quick taste the brew, and shake his sapient head, +And cry in acid voice: The ale is new! +Brew old, you varlets; cast this slop away! (Cheers.) + +But gravely, sir, I would conclude to-night, +And, as a serious man on serious things, +I now speak here. . . . I pledge myself to this: +Unprecedented and magnificent +As were our strivings in the previous war, +Our efforts in the present shall transcend them, +As men will learn. Such efforts are not sized +By this light measuring-rule my critic here +Whips from his pocket like a clerk-o'-works! . . . +Tasking and toilsome war's details must be, +And toilsome, too, must be their criticism,-- +Not in a moment's stroke extemporized. + +The strange fatality that haunts the times +Wherein our lot is cast, has no example. +Times are they fraught with peril, trouble, gloom; +We have to mark their lourings, and to face them. +Sir, reading thus the full significance +Of these big days, large though my lackings be, +Can any hold of those who know my past +That I, of all men, slight our safeguarding? +No: by all honour no!--Were I convinced +That such could be the mind of members here, +My sorrowing thereat would doubly shade +The shade on England now! So I do trust +All in the House will take my tendered word, +And credit my deliverance here to-night, +That in this vital point of watch and ward +Against the threatenings from yonder coast +We stand prepared; and under Providence +Shall fend whatever hid or open stroke +A foe may deal. + + [He sits down amid loud ministerial cheers, with symptoms of + great exhaustion.] + + +WINDHAM + +The question that compels the House to-night +Is not of differences in wit and wit, +But if for England it be well or no +To null the new-fledged Act, as one inept +For setting up with speed and hot effect +The red machinery of desperate war.-- +Whatever it may do, or not, it stands, +A statesman' raw experiment. If ill, +Shall more experiments and more be tried +In stress of jeopardy that stirs demand +For sureness of proceeding? Must this House +Exchange safe action based on practised lines +For yet more ventures into risks unknown +To gratify a quaint projector's whim, +While enemies hang grinning round our gates +To profit by mistake? + + My friend who spoke +Found comedy in the matter. Comical +As it may be in parentage and feature, +Most grave and tragic in its consequence +This Act may prove. We are moving thoughtlessly, +We squander precious, brief, life-saving time +On idle guess-games. Fail the measure must, +Nay, failed it has already; and should rouse +Resolve in its progenitor himself +To move for its repeal! (Cheers.) + + +WHITBREAD + +I rise but to subjoin a phrase or two +To those of my right honourable friend. +I, too, am one who reads the present pinch +As passing all our risks heretofore. +For why? Our bold and reckless enemy, +Relaxing not his plans, has treasured time +To mass his monstrous force on all the coigns +From which our coast is close assailable. +Ay, even afloat his concentrations work: +Two vast united squadrons of his sail +Move at this moment viewless on the seas.-- +Their whereabouts, untraced, unguessable, +Will not be known to us till some black blow +Be dealt by them in some undreamt-of quarter +To knell our rule. + +That we are reasonably enfenced therefrom +By such an Act is but a madman's dream. . . . +A commonwealth so situate cries aloud +For more, far mightier, measures! End an Act +In Heaven's name, then, which only can obstruct +The fabrication of more trusty tackle +For building up an army! (Cheers.) + + +BATHURST + + Sir, the point +To any sober mind is bright as noon; +Whether the Act should have befitting trial +Or be blasphemed at sight. I firmly hold +The latter loud iniquity.--One task +Is theirs who would inter this corpse-cold Act-- +(So said)--to bring to birth a substitute! +Sir, they have none; they have given no thought to one, +And this their deeds incautiously disclose +Their cloaked intention and most secret aim! +With them the question is not how to frame +A finer trick to trounce intrusive foes, +But who shall be the future ministers +To whom such trick against intrusive foes, +Whatever it may prove, shall be entrusted! +They even ask the country gentlemen +To join them in this job. But, God be praised, +Those gentlemen are sound, and of repute; +Their names, their attainments, and their blood, + (Ironical Opposition cheers.) +Safeguard them from an onslaught on an Act +For ends so sinister and palpable! (Cheers and jeerings.) + + +FULLER + +I disapprove of censures of the Act.-- +All who would entertain such hostile thought +Would swear that black is white, that night is day. +No honest man will join a reckless crew +Who'd overthrow their country for their gain! (Laughter.) + + +TIERNEY + +It is incumbent on me to declare +In the last speaker's face my censure, based +On grounds most clear and constitutional.-- +An Act it is that studies to create +A standing army, large and permanent; +Which kind of force has ever been beheld +With jealous-eyed disfavour in this House. +It makes for sure oppression, binding men +To serve for less than service proves it worth +Conditioned by no hampering penalty. +For these and late-spoke reasons, then, I say, +Let not the Act deface the statute-book, +But blot it out forthwith. (Hear, hear.) + + +FOX (rising amid cheers) + + At this late hour, +After the riddling fire the Act has drawn on't, +My words shall hold the House the briefest while. +Too obvious to the most unwilling mind +It grows that the existence of this law +Experience and reflection have condemned. +Professing to do much, it makes for nothing; +Not only so; while feeble in effect +It shows it vicious in its principle. +Engaging to raise men for the common weal +It sets a harmful and unequal tax +Capriciously on our communities.-- +The annals of a century fail to show +More flagrant cases of oppressiveness +Than those this statute works to perpetrate, +Which (like all Bills this favoured statesman frames, +And clothes with tapestries of rhetoric +Disguising their real web of commonplace) +Though held as shaped for English bulwarking, +Breathes in its heart perversities of party, +And instincts toward oligarchic power, +Galling the many to relieve the few! (Cheers.) + +Whatever breadth and sense of equity +Inform the methods of this minister, +Those mitigants nearly always trace their root +To measures that his predecessors wrought. +And ere his Government can dare assert +Superior claim to England's confidence, +They owe it to their honour and good name +To furnish better proof of such a claim +Than is revealed by the abortiveness +Of this thing called an Act for our Defence. + +To the great gifts of its artificer +No member of this House is more disposed +To yield full recognition than am I. +No man has found more reason so to do +Through the long roll of disputatious years +Wherein we have stood opposed. . . . +But if one single fact could counsel me +To entertain a doubt of those great gifts, +And cancel faith in his capacity, +That fact would be the vast imprudence shown +In staking recklessly repute like his +On such an Act as he has offered us-- +So false in principle, so poor in fruit. +Sir, the achievements and effects thereof +Have furnished not one fragile argument +Which all the partiality of friendship +Can kindle to consider as the mark +Of a clear, vigorous, freedom-fostering mind! + + [He sits down amid lengthy cheering from the Opposition.] + + +SHERIDAN + +My summary shall be brief, and to the point.-- +The said right honourable Prime Minister +Has thought it proper to declare my speech +The jesting of an irresponsible;-- +Words from a person who has never read +The Act he claims him urgent to repeal. +Such quips and qizzings (as he reckons them) +He implicates as gathered from long hoards +Stored up with cruel care, to be discharged +With sudden blaze of pyrotechnic art +On the devoted, gentle, shrinking head +O' the right incomparable gentleman! (Laughter.) +But were my humble, solemn, sad oration (Laughter.) +Indeed such rattle as he rated it, +Is it not strange, and passing precedent, +That the illustrious chief of Government +Should have uprisen with such indecent speed +And strenuously replied? He, sir, knows well +That vast and luminous talents like his own +Could not have been demanded to choke off +A witcraft marked by nothing more of weight +Than ignorant irregularity! +_Nec Deus intersit_--and so-and-so-- +Is a well-worn citation whose close fit +None will perceive more clearly in the Fane +Than its presiding Deity opposite. (Laughter.) +His thunderous answer thus perforce condemns him! + +Moreover, to top all, the while replying, +He still thought best to leave intact the reasons +On which my blame was founded! + Thus, them, stands +My motion unimpaired, convicting clearly +Of dire perversion that capacity +We formerly admired.-- (Cries of "Oh, oh.") + This minister +Whose circumventions never circumvent, +Whose coalitions fail to coalesce; +This dab at secret treaties known to all, +This darling of the aristocracy-- + +(Laughter, "Oh, oh," cheers, and cries of "Divide.") + +Has brought the millions to the verge of ruin, +By pledging them to Continental quarrels +Of which we see no end! (Cheers.) + + [The members rise to divide.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + It irks me that they thus should Yea and Nay + As though a power lay in their oraclings, + If each decision work unconsciously, + And would be operant though unloosened were + A single lip! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + There may react on things + Some influence from these, indefinitely, + And even on That, whose outcome we all are. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Hypotheses!--More boots it to remind + The younger here of our ethereal band + And hierarchy of Intelligences, + That this thwart Parliament whose moods we watch-- + So insular, empiric, un-ideal-- + May figure forth in sharp and salient lines + To retrospective eyes of afterdays, + And print its legend large on History. + For one cause--if I read the signs aright-- + To-night's appearance of its Minister + In the assembly of his long-time sway + Is near his last, and themes to-night launched forth + Will take a tincture from that memory, + When me recall the scene and circumstance + That hung about his pleadings.--But no more; + The ritual of each party is rehearsed, + Dislodging not one vote or prejudice; + The ministers their ministries retain, + And Ins as Ins, and Outs as Outs, remain. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Meanwhile what of the Foeman's vast array + That wakes these tones? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Abide the event, young Shade: + Soon stars will shut and show a spring-eyed dawn, + And sunbeams fountain forth, that will arouse + Those forming bands to full activity. + + [An honourable member reports that he spies strangers.] + + A timely token that we dally here! + We now cast off these mortal manacles, + And speed us seaward. + + [The Phantoms vanish from the Gallery. The members file out + to the lobbies. The House and Westminster recede into the + films of night, and the point of observation shifts rapidly + across the Channel.] + + + +SCENE IV + +THE HARBOUR OF BOULOGNE + + [The morning breaks, radiant with early sunlight. The French + Army of Invasion is disclosed. On the hills on either side + of the town and behind appear large military camps formed of + timber huts. Lower down are other camps of more or less + permanent kind, the whole affording accommodation for one + hundred and fifty thousand men. + + South of the town is an extensive basin surrounded by quays, + the heaps of fresh soil around showing it to be a recent + excavation from the banks of the Liane. The basin is crowded + with the flotilla, consisting of hundreds of vessels of sundry + kinds: flat-bottomed brigs with guns and two masts; boats of + one mast, carrying each an artillery waggon, two guns, and a + two-stalled horse-box; transports with three low masts; and + long narrow pinnaces arranged for many oars. + + Timber, saw-mills, and new-cut planks spread in profusion + around, and many of the town residences are seen to be adapted + for warehouses and infirmaries.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Moving in this scene are countless companies of soldiery, engaged +in a drill practice of embarking and disembarking, and of hoisting +horses into the vessels and landing them again. Vehicles bearing +provisions of many sorts load and unload before the temporary +warehouses. Further off, on the open land, bodies of troops are at +field-drill. Other bodies of soldiers, half stripped and encrusted +with mud, are labouring as navvies in repairing the excavations. + +An English squadron of about twenty sail, comprising a ship or two of +the line, frigates, brigs, and luggers, confronts the busy spectacle +from the sea. + +The Show presently dims and becomes broken, till only its flashes and +gleams are visible. Anon a curtain of cloud closes over it. + + + +SCENE V + +LONDON. THE HOUSE OF A LADY OF QUALITY + + [A fashionable crowd is present at an evening party, which + includes the DUKES of BEAUFORT and RUTLAND, LORDS MALMESBURY, + HARROWBY, ELDON, GRENVILLE, CASTLEREAGH, SIDMOUTH, and MULGRAVE, + with their ladies; also CANNING, PERCEVAL, TOWNSHEND, LADY + ANNE HAMILTON, MRS. DAMER, LADY CAROLINE LAMB, and many other + notables.] + + +A GENTLEMAN (offering his snuff-box) + +So, then, the Treaty anxiously concerted +Between ourselves and frosty Muscovy +Is duly signed? + + +A CABINET MINISTER + + Was signed a few days back, +And is in force. And we do firmly hope +The loud pretensions and the stunning dins +Now daily heard, these laudable exertions +May keep in curb; that ere our greening land +Darken its leaves beneath the Dogday suns, +The independence of the Continent +May be assured, and all the rumpled flags +Of famous dynasties so foully mauled, +Extend their honoured hues as heretofore. + + +GENTLEMAN + +So be it. Yet this man is a volcano; +And proven 'tis, by God, volcanos choked +Have ere now turned to earthquakes! + + +LADY + + What the news?-- +The chequerboard of diplomatic moves +Is London, all the world knows: here are born +All inspirations of the Continent-- +So tell! + +GENTLEMAN + + Ay. Inspirations now abound! + + +LADY + +Nay, but your looks are grave! That measured speech +Betokened matter that will waken us.-- +Is it some piquant cruelty of his? +Or other tickling horror from abroad +The packet has brought in? + + +GENTLEMAN + + The treaty's signed! + + +MINISTER + +Whereby the parties mutually agree +To knit in union and in general league +All outraged Europe. + + +LADY + + So to knit sounds well; +But how ensure its not unravelling? + + +MINISTER + +Well; by the terms. There are among them these: +Five hundred thousand active men in arms +Shall strike (supported by the Britannic aid +In vessels, men, and money subsidies) +To free North Germany and Hanover +From trampling foes; deliver Switzerland, +Unbind the galled republic of the Dutch, +Rethrone in Piedmont the Sardinian King, +Make Naples sword-proof, un-French Italy +From shore to shore; and thoroughly guarantee +A settled order to the divers states; +Thus rearing breachless barriers in each realm +Against the thrust of his usurping hand. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + They trow not what is shaping otherwhere + The while they talk this stoutly! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Bid me go + And join them, and all blandly kindle them + By bringing, ere material transit can, + A new surprise! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Yea, for a moment, wouldst. + + [The Spirit of Rumour enters the apartment in the form of a + personage of fashion, newly arrived. He advances and addresses + the group.] + + +SPIRIT + + The Treaty moves all tongues to-night.--Ha, well-- + So much on paper! + + +GENTLEMAN + + What on land and sea? +You look, old friend, full primed with latest thence. + + +SPIRIT + + Yea, this. The Italy our mighty pact + Delivers from the French and Bonaparte + Makes haste to crown him!--Turning from Boulogne + He speeds toward Milan, there to glory him + In second coronation by the Pope, + And set upon his irrepressible brow + Lombardy's iron crown. + + [The Spirit of Rumour mingles with the throng, moves away, and + disappears.] + + +LADY + + Fair Italy, +Alas, alas! + + +LORD + + Yet thereby English folk +Are freed him.--Faith, as ancient people say, +It's an ill wind that blows good luck to none! + + +MINISTER + +Who is your friend that drops so airily +This precious pinch of salt on our raw skin? + + +GENTLEMAN + +Why, Norton. You know Norton well enough? + + +MINISTER + +Nay, 'twas not he. Norton of course I know. +I thought him Stewart for a moment, but--- + + +LADY + +But I well scanned him--'twas Lord Abercorn; +For, said I to myself, "O quaint old beau, +To sleep in black silk sheets so funnily:-- +That is, if the town rumour on't be true. + + +LORD + +My wig, ma'am, no! 'Twas a much younger man. + + +GENTLEMAN + +But let me call him! Monstrous silly this, +That don't know my friends! + + [They look around. The gentleman goes among the surging and + babbling guests, makes inquiries, and returns with a perplexed + look.] + + +GENTLEMAN + + They tell me, sure, +That he's not here to-night! + + +MINISTER + + I can well swear +It was not Norton.--'Twas some lively buck, +Who chose to put himself in masquerade +And enter for a whim. I'll tell our host. +--Meantime the absurdity of his report +Is more than manifested. How knows he +The plans of Bonaparte by lightning-flight, +Before another man in England knows? + + +LADY + +Something uncanny's in it all, if true. +Good Lord, the thought gives me a sudden sweat, +That fairly makes my linen stick to me! + + +MINISTER + +Ha-ha! 'Tis excellent. But we'll find out +Who this impostor was. + + [They disperse, look furtively for the stranger, and speak of + the incident to others of the crowded company.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Now let us vision onward, till we sight + Famed Milan's aisles of marble, sun-alight, + And there behold, unbid, the Coronation-rite. + + [The confused tongues of the assembly waste away into distance, + till they are heard but as the babblings of the sea from a + high cliff, the scene becoming small and indistinct therewith. + This passes into silence, and the whole disappears.] + + + +SCENE VI + +MILAN. THE CATHEDRAL + + [The interior of the building on a sunny May day. + + The walls, arched, and columns are draped in silk fringed with + gold. A gilded throne stand in front of the High Altar. A + closely packed assemblage, attired in every variety of rich + fabric and fashion, waits in breathless expectation.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +From a private corridor leading to a door in the aisle the EMPRESS +JOSEPHINE enters, in a shining costume, and diamonds that collect +rainbow-colours from the sunlight piercing the clerestory windows. +She is preceded by PRINCESS ELIZA, and surrounded by her ladies. +A pause follows, and then comes the procession of the EMPEROR, +consisting of hussars, heralds, pages, aides-de-camp, presidents +of institutions, officers of the state bearing the insignia of the +Empire and of Italy, and seven ladies with offerings. The Emperor +himself in royal robes, wearing the Imperial crown, and carrying the +sceptre. He is followed my ministers and officials of the household. +His gait is rather defiant than dignified, and a bluish pallor +overspreads his face. + +He is met by the Cardinal Archbishop of CAPRARA and the clergy, who +burn incense before him as he proceeds towards the throne. Rolling +notes of music burn forth, and loud applause from the congregation. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + What is the creed that these rich rites disclose? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + A local cult, called Christianity, + Which the wild dramas of the wheeling spheres + Include, with divers other such, in dim + Pathetical and brief parentheses, + Beyond whose span, uninfluenced, unconcerned, + The systems of the suns go sweeping on + With all their many-mortaled planet train + In mathematic roll unceasingly. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I did not recognize it here, forsooth; + Though in its early, lovingkindly days + Of gracious purpose it was much to me. + + +ARCHBISHOP (addressing Bonaparte) + +Sire, with that clemency and right goodwill +Which beautify Imperial Majesty, +You deigned acceptance of the homages +That we the clergy and the Milanese +Were proud to offer when your entrance here +Streamed radiance on our ancient capital. +Please, then, to consummate the boon to-day +Beneath this holy roof, so soon to thrill +With solemn strains and lifting harmonies +Befitting such a coronation hour; +And bend a tender fatherly regard +On this assembly, now at one with me +To supplicate the Author of All Good +That He endow your most Imperial person +With every Heavenly gift. + + + [The procession advances, and the EMPEROR seats himself on the + throne, with the banners and regalia of the Empire on his right, + and those of Italy on his left hand. Shouts and triumphal music + accompany the proceedings, after which Divine service commences.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Thus are the self-styled servants of the Highest + Constrained by earthly duress to embrace + Mighty imperiousness as it were choice, + And hand the Italian sceptre unto one + Who, with a saturnine, sour-humoured grin, + Professed at first to flout antiquity, + Scorn limp conventions, smile at mouldy thrones, + And level dynasts down to journeymen!-- + Yet he, advancing swiftly on that track + Whereby his active soul, fair Freedom's child + Makes strange decline, now labours to achieve + The thing it overthrew. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Thou reasonest ever thuswise--even if + A self-formed force had urged his loud career. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + Do not the prelate's accents falter thin, + His lips with inheld laughter grow deformed, + While blessing one whose aim is but to win + The golden seats that other b---s have warmed? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Soft, jester; scorn not puppetry so skilled, + Even made to feel by one men call the Dame. + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + Yea; that they feel, and puppetry remain, + Is an owned flaw in her consistency + Men love to dub Dame Nature--that lay-shape + They use to hang phenomena upon-- + Whose deftest mothering in fairest sphere + Is girt about by terms inexorable! + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +The lady's remark is apposite, and reminds me that I may as well +hold my tongue as desired. For if my casual scorn, Father Years, +should set thee trying to prove that there is any right or reason +in the Universe, thou wilt not accomplish it by Doomsday! Small +blame to her, however; she must cut her coat according to her +cloth, as they would say below there. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + O would that I could move It to enchain thee, + And shut thee up a thousand years!--(to cite + A grim terrestrial tale of one thy like) + Thou Iago of the Incorporeal World, + "As they would say below there." + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Would thou couldst! + But move That scoped above percipience, Sire, + It cannot be! + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + The spectacle proceeds. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +And we may as well give all attention thereto, for the evils at +work in other continents are not worth eyesight by comparison. + + [The ceremonial in the Cathedral continues. NAPOLEON goes to + the front of the altar, ascends the steps, and, taking up the + crown of Lombardy, places it on his head.] + + +NAPOLEON + +'Tis God has given it to me. So be it. +Let any who shall touch it now beware! (Reverberations of applause.) + + [The Sacrament of the Mass. NAPOLEON reads the Coronation Oath in + a loud voice.] + + +HERALDS + +Give ear! Napoleon, Emperor of the French +And King of Italy, is crowned and throned! + + +CONGREGATION + +Long live the Emperor and King. Huzza! + + [Music. The Te Deum.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + That vulgar stroke of vauntery he displayed + In planting on his brow the Lombard crown, + Means sheer erasure of the Luneville pacts, + And lets confusion loose on Europe's peace + For many an undawned year! From this rash hour + Austria but waits her opportunity + By secret swellings of her armaments + To link her to his foes.--I'll speak to him. + + [He throws a whisper into NAPOLEON'S ear.] + + Lieutenant Bonaparte, + Would it not seemlier be to shut thy heart + To these unhealthy splendours?--helmet thee + For her thou swar'st-to first, fair Liberty? + + +NAPOLEON + +Who spoke to me? + + +ARCHBISHOP + + Not I, Sire. Not a soul. + + +NAPOLEON + +Dear Josephine, my queen, didst call my name? + + +JOSEPHINE + +I spoke not, Sire. + + +NAPOLEON + + Thou didst not, tender spouse; + I know it. Such harsh utterance was not thine. + It was aggressive Fancy, working spells + Upon a mind o'erwrought! + + [The service closes. The clergy advance with the canopy to the + foot of the throne, and the procession forms to return to the + Palace.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Officious sprite, + Thou art young, and dost not heed the Cause of things + Which some of us have inkled to thee here; + Else wouldst thou not have hailed the Emperor, + Whose acts do but outshape Its governing. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I feel, Sire, as I must! This tale of Will + And Life's impulsion by Incognizance + I cannot take! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Let me then once again + Show to thy sceptic eye the very streams + And currents of this all-inhering Power, + And bring conclusion to thy unbelief. + + [The scene assumes the preternatural transparency before mentioned, + and there is again beheld as it were the interior of a brain which + seems to manifest the volitions of a Universal Will, of whose + tissues the personages of the action form portion.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Enough. And yet for very sorriness + I cannot own the weird phantasma real! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Affection ever was illogical. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC (aside) + +How should the Sprite own to such logic--a mere juvenile-- who only +came into being in what the earthlings call their Tertiary Age! + + [The scene changes. The exterior of the Cathedral takes the place + of the interior, and the point of view recedes, the whole fabric + smalling into distance and becoming like a rare, delicately carved + alabaster ornament. The city itself sinks to miniature, the Alps + show afar as a white corrugation, the Adriatic and the Gulf of + Genoa appear on this and on that hand, with Italy between them, + till clouds cover the panorama.] + + + + +ACT SECOND + + +SCENE I + +THE DOCKYARD, GIBRALTAR + + [The Rock is seen rising behind the town and the Alameda Gardens, + and the English fleet rides at anchor in the Bay, across which the + Spanish shore from Algeciras to Carnero Point shuts in the West. + Southward over the Strait is the African coast.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Our migratory Proskenion now presents + An outlook on the storied Kalpe Rock, + As preface to the vision of the Fleets + Spanish and French, linked for fell purposings. + + +RECORDING ANGEL (reciting) + + Their motions and manoeuvres, since the fame + Of Bonaparte's enthronment at Milan + Swept swift through Europe's dumbed communities, + Have stretched the English mind to wide surmise. + Many well-based alarms (which strange report + Much aggravates) as to the pondered blow, + Flutter the public pulse; all points in turn-- + Malta, Brazil, Wales, Ireland, British Ind-- + Being held as feasible for force like theirs, + Of lavish numbers and unrecking aim. + + "Where, where is Nelson?" questions every tongue;-- + "How views he so unparalleled a scheme?" + Their slow uncertain apprehensions ask. + "When Villeneuve puts to sea with all his force, + What may he not achieve, if swift his course!" + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + I'll call in Nelson, who has stepped ashore + For the first time these thrice twelvemonths and more, + And with him one whose insight has alone + Pierced the real project of Napoleon. + + [Enter NELSON and COLLINGWOOD, who pace up and down.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Note Nelson's worn-out features. Much has he + Suffered from ghoulish ghast anxiety! + + +NELSON + +In short, dear Coll, the letter which you wrote me +Had so much pith that I was fain to see you; +For I am sure that you indeed divine +The true intent and compass of a plot +Which I have spelled in vain. + + +COLLINGWOOD + + I weighed it thus: +Their flight to the Indies being to draw us off, +That and no more, and clear these coasts of us-- +The standing obstacle to his device-- +He cared not what was done at Martinique, +Or where, provided that the general end +Should not be jeopardized--that is to say, +The full-united squadron's quick return.-- +Gravina and Villeneuve, once back to Europe, +Can straight make Ferrol, raise there the blockade, +Then haste to Brest, there to relieve Ganteaume, +And next with four-or five-and fifty sail +Bear down upon our coast as they see fit.-- +I read they aim to strike at Ireland still, +As formerly, and as I wrote to you. + + +NELSON + +So far your thoughtful and sagacious words +Have hit the facts. But 'tis no Irish bay +The villains aim to drop their anchors in; +My word for it: they make the Wessex shore, +And this vast squadron handled by Villeneuve +Is meant to cloak the passage of their strength, +Massed on those transports--we being kept elsewhere +By feigning forces.--Good God, Collingwood, +I must be gone! Yet two more days remain +Ere I can get away.--I must be gone! + + +COLLINGWOOD + +Wherever you may go to, my dear lord, +You carry victory with you. Let them launch, +Your name will blow them back, as sou'west gales +The gulls that beat against them from the shore. + + +NELSON + +Good Collingwood, I know you trust in me; +But ships are ships, and do not kindly come +Out of the slow docks of the Admiralty +Like wharfside pigeons when they are whistled for:-- +And there's a damned disparity of force, +Which means tough work awhile for you and me! + + [The Spirit of the Years whispers to NELSON.] + +And I have warnings, warnings, Collingwood, +That my effective hours are shortening here; +Strange warnings now and then, as 'twere within me, +Which, though I fear them not, I recognize! . . . +However, by God's help, I'll live to meet +These foreign boasters; yea, I'll finish them; +And then--well, Gunner Death may finish me! + +COLLINGWOOD + +View not your life so gloomily, my lord: +One charmed, a needed purpose to fulfil! + + +NELSON + +Ah, Coll. Lead bullets are not all that wound. . . . +I have a feeling here of dying fires, +A sense of strong and deep unworded censure, +Which, compassing about my private life, +Makes all my public service lustreless +In my own eyes.--I fear I am much condemned +For those dear Naples and Palermo days, +And her who was the sunshine of them all! . . . +He who is with himself dissatisfied, +Though all the world find satisfaction in him, +Is like a rainbow-coloured bird gone blind, +That gives delight it shares not. Happiness? +It's the philosopher's stone no alchemy +Shall light on this world I am weary of.-- +Smiling I'd pass to my long home to-morrow +Could I with honour, and my country's gain. +--But let's adjourn. I waste your hours ashore +By such ill-timed confessions! + + [They pass out of sight, and the scene closes.] + + + +SCENE II. + +OFF FERROL + + [The French and Spanish combined squadrons. On board the French + admiral's flag-ship. VILLENEUVE is discovered in his cabin, writing + a letter.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + He pens in fits, with pallid restlessness, + Like one who sees Misfortune walk the wave, + And can nor face nor flee it. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + He indites + To his long friend the minister Decres + Words that go heavily! . . . + + +VILLENEUVE (writing + +"I am made the arbiter in vast designs +Whereof I see black outcomes. Do I this +Or do I that, success, that loves to jilt +Her anxious wooer for some careless blade, +Will not reward me. For, if I must pen it, +Demoralized past prayer in the marine-- +Bad masts, bad sails, bad officers, bad men; +We cling to naval technics long outworn, +And time and opportunity do not avail me +To take up new. I have long suspected such, +But till I saw my helps, the Spanish ships, +I hoped somewhat.--Brest is my nominal port; +Yet if so, Calder will again attack-- +Now reinforced by Nelson or Cornwallis-- +And shatter my whole fleet. . . . Shall I admit +That my true inclination and desire +Is to make Cadiz straightway, and not Brest? +Alas! thereby I fail the Emperor; +But shame the navy less.-- + Your friend, VILLENEUVE + + [GENERAL LAURISTON enters.] + + +LAURISTON + +Admiral, my missive to the Emperor, +Which I shall speed by special courier +From Ferrol this near eve, runs thus and thus:-- +"Gravina's ships, in Ferrol here at hand, +Embayed but by a temporary wind, +Are all we now await. Combined with these +We sail herefrom to Brest; there promptly give +Cornwallis battle, and release Ganteaume; +Thence, all united, bearing Channelwards: +A step that sets in motion the first wheel +In the proud project of your Majesty +Now to be engined to the very close, +To wit: that a French fleet shall enter in +And hold the Channel four-and-twenty hours."-- +Such clear assurance to the Emperor +That our intent is modelled on his will +I hasten to dispatch to him forthwith.(4) + + +VILLENEUVE + +Yes, Lauriston. I sign to every word. + + [Lauriston goes out. VILLENEUVE remains at his table in reverie.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + We may impress him under visible shapes + That seem to shed a silent circling doom; + He's such an one as can be so impressed, + And this much is among our privileges, + Well bounded as they be.--Let us draw near him. + + [The Spirits of Years and of the Pities take the form of sea-birds, + which alight on the stern-balcony of VILLENEUVE's ship, immediately + outside his cabin window. VILLENEUVE after a while looks up and + sees the birds watching him with large piercing eyes.] + + +VILLENEUVE + +My apprehensions even outstep their cause, +As though some influence smote through yonder pane. + + [He gazes listlessly, and resumes his broodings.] + +---Why dared I not disclose to him my thought, +As nightly worded by the whistling shrouds, +That Brest will never see our battled hulls +Helming to north in pomp of cannonry +To take the front in this red pilgrimage! +---If so it were, now, that I'd screen my skin +From risks of bloody business in the brunt, +My acts could scarcely wear a difference. +Yet I would die to-morrow--not ungladly-- +So far removed is carcase-care from me. +For no self do these apprehensions spring, +But for the cause.--Yes, rotten is our marine, +Which, while I know, the Emperor knows not, +And the pale secret chills! Though some there be +Would beard contingencies and buffet all, +I'll not command a course so conscienceless. +Rather I'll stand, and face Napoleon's rage +When he shall learn what mean the ambiguous lines +That facts have forced from me. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES (to the Spirit of Years) + + O Eldest-born of the Unconscious Cause-- + If such thou beest, as I can fancy thee-- + Why dost thou rack him thus? Consistency + Might be preserved, and yet his doom remain. + His olden courage is without reproach; + Albeit his temper trends toward gaingiving! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + I say, as I have said long heretofore, + I know but narrow freedom. Feel'st thou not + We are in Its hand, as he?--Here, as elsewhere, + We do but as we may; no further dare. + + [The birds disappear, and the scene is lost behind sea-mist.] + + + +SCENE III + +THE CAMP AND HARBOUR OF BOULOGNE + + [The English coast in the distance. Near the Tour d'Ordre stands + a hut, with sentinels and aides outside; it is NAPOLEON's temporary + lodging when not at his headquarters at the Chateau of Pont-de- + Briques, two miles inland.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +A courier arrives with dispatches, and enters the Emperor's quarters, +whence he emerges and goes on with other dispatches to the hut of +DECRES, lower down. Immediately after, NAPOLEON comes out from his +hut with a paper in his hand, and musingly proceeds towards an +eminence commanding the Channel. + +Along the shore below are forming in a far-reaching line more +than a hundred thousand infantry. On the downs in the rear of +the camps fifteen thousand cavalry are manoeuvring, their +accoutrements flashing in the sun like a school of mackerel. +The flotilla lies in and around the port, alive with moving +figures. + +With his head forward and his hands behind him the Emperor surveys +these animated proceedings in detail, but more frequently turns his +face toward the telegraph on the cliff to the southwest, erected to +signal when VILLENEUVE and the combined squadrons shall be visible +on the west horizon. + +He summons one of the aides, who descends to the hut of DECRES. +DECRES comes out from his hut, and hastens to join the Emperor. +Dumb show ends. + + [NAPOLEON and DECRES advance to the foreground of the scene.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Decres, this action with Sir Robert Calder +Three weeks ago, whereof we dimly heard, +And clear details of which I have just unsealed, +Is on the whole auspicious for our plan. +It seems that twenty of our ships and Spain's-- +None over eighty-gunned, and some far less-- +Engaged the English off Cape Finisterre +With fifteen vessels of a hundred each. +We coolly fought and orderly as they, +And, but for mist, we had closed with victory. +Two English were much mauled, some Spanish damaged, +And Calder then drew off with his two wrecks +And Spain's in tow, we giving chase forthwith. +Not overtaking him our admiral, +Having the coast clear for his purposes, +Entered Coruna, and found order there +To open the port of Brest and come on hither. +Thus hastes the moment when the double fleet +Of Villeneuve and of Ganteaume should appear. + + [He looks again towards the telegraph.] + + +DECRES (with hesitation) + +And should they not appear, your Majesty? + + +NAPOLEON + +Not? But they will; and do it early, too! +There's nothing hinders them. My God, they must, +For I have much before me when this stroke +At England's dealt. I learn from Talleyrand +That Austrian preparations threaten hot, +While Russia's hostile schemes are ripening, +And shortly must be met.--My plan is fixed: +I am prepared for each alternative. +If Villeneuve come, I brave the British coast, +Convulse the land with fear ('tis even now +So far distraught, that generals cast about +To find new modes of warfare; yea, design +Carriages to transport their infantry!).-- +Once on the English soil I hold it firm, +Descend on London, and the while my men +Salute the dome of Paul's I cut the knot +Of all Pitt's coalitions; setting free +From bondage to a cold manorial caste +A people who await it. + + [They stand and regard the chalky cliffs of England, till NAPOLEON + resumes]: + + Should it be +Even that my admirals fail to keep the tryst-- +A thing scarce thinkable, when all's reviewed-- +I strike this seaside camp, cross Germany, +With these two hundred thousand seasoned men, +And pause not till within Vienna's walls +I cry checkmate. Next, Venice, too, being taken, +And Austria's other holdings down that way, +The Bourbons also driven from Italy, +I strike at Russia--each in turn, you note, +Ere they can act conjoined. + Report to me +What has been scanned to-day upon the main, +And on your passage down request them there +To send Daru this way. + + +DECRES (as he withdraws) + +The Emperor can be sanguine. Scarce can I. +His letters are more promising than mine. +Alas, alas, Villeneuve, my dear old friend, +Why do you pen me this at such a time! + +[He retires reading VILLENEUVE'S letter. The Emperor walks up and +down till DARU, his private secretary, joins him.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Come quick, Daru; sit down upon the grass, +And write whilst I am in mind. + + First to Villeneuve:-- + +"I trust, Vice-Admiral, that before this date +Your fleet has opened Brest, and gone. If not, +These lines will greet you there. But pause not, pray: +Waste not a moment dallying. Sail away: +Once bring my coupled squadrons Channelwards +And England's soil is ours. All's ready here, +The troops alert, and every store embarked. +Hold the nigh sea but four-and-twenty hours +And our vast end is gained." + + Now to Ganteaume:-- + +"My telegraphs will have made known to you +My object and desire to be but this, +That you forbid Villeneuve to lose an hour +In getting fit and putting forth to sea, +To profit by the fifty first-rate craft +Wherewith I now am bettered. Quickly weigh, +And steer you for the Channel with all your strength. +I count upon your well-known character, +Your enterprize, your vigour, to do this. +Sail hither, then; and we will be avenged +For centuries of despite and contumely." + + +DARU + +Shall a fair transcript, Sire, be made forthwith? + + +NAPOLEON + +This moment. And the courier will depart +And travel without pause. + + [DARU goes to his office a little lower down, and the Emperor + lingers on the cliffs looking through his glass. + + The point of view shifts across the Channel, the Boulogne cliffs + sinking behind the water-line.] + + + +SCENE IV + +SOUTH WESSEX. A RIDGE-LIKE DOWN NEAR THE COAST + + [The down commands a wide view over the English Channel in front + of it, including the popular Royal watering-place, with the Isle + of Slingers and its roadstead, where men-of-war and frigates are + anchored. The hour is ten in the morning, and the July sun glows + upon a large military encampment round about the foreground, and + warms the stone field-walls that take the place of hedges here. + + Artillery, cavalry, and infantry, English and Hanoverian, are + drawn up for review under the DUKE OF CUMBERLAND and officers + of the staff, forming a vast military array, which extends + three miles, and as far as the downs are visible. + + In the centre by the Royal Standard appears KING GEORGE on + horseback, and his suite. In a coach drawn by six cream- + coloured Hanoverian horses, QUEEN CHARLOTTE sits with three + Princesses; in another carriage with four horses are two more + Princesses. There are also present with the Royal Party the + LORD CHANCELLOR, LORD MULGRAVE, COUNT MUNSTER, and many other + luminaries of fashion and influence. + + The Review proceeds in dumb show; and the din of many bands + mingles with the cheers. The turf behind the saluting-point + is crowded with carriages and spectators on foot.] + + +A SPECTATOR + +And you've come to the sight, like the King and myself? Well, one +fool makes many. What a mampus o' folk it is here to-day! And what +a time we do live in, between wars and wassailings, the goblin o' +Boney, and King George in flesh and blood! + + +SECOND SPECTATOR + +Yes. I wonder King George is let venture down on this coast, where +he might be snapped up in a moment like a minney by a her'n, so near +as we be to the field of Boney's vagaries! Begad, he's as like to +land here as anywhere. Gloucester Lodge could be surrounded, and +George and Charlotte carried off before he could put on his hat, or +she her red cloak and pattens! + + +THIRD SPECTATOR + +'Twould be so such joke to kidnap 'em as you think. Look at the +frigates down there. Every night they are drawn up in a line +across the mouth of the Bay, almost touching each other; and +ashore a double line of sentinels, well primed with beer and +ammunition, one at the water's edge and the other on the +Esplanade, stretch along the whole front. Then close to the +Lodge a guard is mounted after eight o'clock; there be pickets +on all the hills; at the Harbour mouth is a battery of twenty +four-pounders; and over-right 'em a dozen six-pounders, and +several howitzers. And next look at the size of the camp of +horse and foot up here. + + +FIRST SPECTATOR + +Everybody however was fairly gallied this week when the King went +out yachting, meaning to be back for the theatre; and the eight or +nine o'clock came, and never a sign of him. I don't know when 'a +did land; but 'twas said by all that it was a foolhardy pleasure +to take. + + +FOURTH SPECTATOR + +He's a very obstinate and comical old gentleman; and by all account +'a wouldn't make port when asked to. + + +SECOND SPECTATOR + +Lard, Lard, if 'a were nabbed, it wouldn't make a deal of difference! +We should have nobody to zing, and play singlestick to, and grin at +through horse-collars, that's true. And nobody to sign our few +documents. But we should rub along some way, goodnow. + + +FIRST SPECTATOR + +Step up on this barrow; you can see better. The troopers now passing +are the York Hussars--foreigners to a man, except the officers--the +same regiment the two young Germans belonged to who were shot four +years ago. Now come the Light Dragoons; what a time they take to +get all past! Well, well! this day will be recorded in history. + + +SECOND SPECTATOR + +Or another soon to follow it! (He gazes over the Channel.) There's +not a speck of an enemy upon that shiny water yet; but the Brest +fleet is zaid to have put to sea, to act in concert with the army +crossing from Boulogne; and if so the French will soon be here; when +God save us all! I've took to drinking neat, for, say I, one may +as well have innerds burnt out as shot out, and 'tis a good deal +pleasanter for the man that owns 'em. They say that a cannon-ball +knocked poor Jim Popple's maw right up into the futtock-shrouds at +the Nile, where 'a hung like a nightcap out to dry. Much good to +him his obeying his old mother's wish and refusing his allowance +o' rum! + + [The bands play and the Review continues till past eleven o'clock. + Then follows a sham fight. At noon precisely the royal carriages + draw off the ground into the highway that leads down to the town + and Gloucester Lodge, followed by other equipages in such numbers + that the road is blocked. A multitude comes after on foot. + Presently the vehicles manage to proceed to the watering-place, and + the troops march away to the various camps as a sea-mist cloaks the + perspective.] + + + +SCENE V + +THE SAME. RAINBARROW'S BEACON, EGDON HEATH + + [Night in mid-August of the same summer. A lofty ridge of + heathland reveals itself dimly, terminating in an abrupt slope, + at the summit of which are three tumuli. On the sheltered side + of the most prominent of these stands a hut of turves with a + brick chimney. In front are two ricks of fuel, one of heather + and furze for quick ignition, the other of wood, for slow burning. + Something in the feel of the darkness and in the personality of + the spot imparts a sense of uninterrupted space around, the view + by day extending from the cliffs of the Isle of Wight eastward + to Blackdon Hill by Deadman's Bay westward, and south across the + Valley of the Froom to the ridge that screens the Channel. + + Two men with pikes loom up, on duty as beacon-keepers beside the + ricks.] + + +OLD MAN + +Now, Jems Purchess, once more mark my words. Black'on is the point +we've to watch, and not Kingsbere; and I'll tell 'ee for why. If he +do land anywhere hereabout 'twill be inside Deadman's Bay, and the +signal will straightaway come from Black'on. But there thou'st +stand, glowering and staring with all thy eyes at Kingsbere! I tell +'ee what 'tis, Jem Purchess, your brain is softening; and you be +getting too old for business of state like ours! + + +YOUNG MAN + +You've let your tongue wrack your few rames of good breeding, John. + + +OLD MAN + +The words of my Lord-Lieutenant was, whenever you see Kingsbere-Hill +Beacon fired to the eastward, or Black'on to the westward, light up; +and keep your second fire burning for two hours. Was that our +documents or was it not? + + +YOUNG MAN + +I don't gainsay it. And so I keep my eye on Kingsbere because that's +most likely o' the two, says I. + + +OLD MAN + +That shows the curious depths of your ignorance. However, I'll have +patience, and say on. Didst ever larn geography? + + +YOUNG MAN + +No. Nor no other corrupt practices. + + +OLD MAN + +Tcht-tcht!--Well, I'll have patience, and put it to him in another +form. Dost know the world is round--eh? I warrant dostn't! + + +YOUNG MAN + +I warrant I do! + + +OLD MAN + +How d'ye make that out, when th'st never been to school? + + +YOUNG MAN + +I larned it at church, thank God. + + +OLD MAN + +Church? What have God A'mighty got to do with profane knowledge? +Beware that you baint blaspheming, Jems Purchess! + + +YOUNG MAN + +I say I did, whether or no! 'Twas the zingers up in gallery that +I had it from. They busted out that strong with "the round world +and they that dwell therein," that we common fokes down under could +do no less than believe 'em. + + +OLD MAN + +Canst be sharp enough in the wrong place as usual--I warrant canst! +However, I'll have patience with 'en and say on!--Suppose, now, my +hat is the world; and there, as might be, stands the Camp of Belong, +where Boney is. The world goes round, so, and Belong goes round too. +Twelve hours pass; round goes the world still--so. Where's Belong +now? + + [A pause. Two other figures, a man's and a woman's, rise against + the sky out of the gloom.] + + +OLD MAN (shouldering his pike) + +Who goes there? Friend or foe, in the King's name! + + +WOMAN + +Piece o' trumpery! "Who goes" yourself! What d'ye talk o', John +Whiting! Can't your eyes earn their living any longer, then, that +you don't know your own neighbours? 'Tis Private Cantle of the +Locals and his wife Keziar, down at Bloom's-End--who else should +it be! + + +OLD MAN (lowering his pike) + +A form o' words, Mis'ess Cantle, no more; ordained by his Majesty's +Gover'ment to be spoke by all we on sworn duty for the defence o' the +country. Strict rank-and-file rules is our only horn of salvation in +these times.--But, my dear woman, why ever have ye come lumpering up +to Rainbarrows at this time o' night? + + +WOMAN + +We've been troubled with bad dreams, owing to the firing out at sea +yesterday; and at last I could sleep no more, feeling sure that +sommat boded of His coming. And I said to Cantle, I'll ray myself, +and go up to Beacon, and ask if anything have been heard or seen to- +night. And here we be. + + +OLD MAN + +Not a sign or sound--all's as still as a churchyard. And how is +your good man? + + +PRIVATE (advancing) + +Clk. I be all right! I was in the ranks, helping to keep the ground +at the review by the King this week. We was a wonderful sight-- +wonderful! The King said so again and again.--Yes, there was he, and +there was I, though not daring to move a' eyebrow in the presence of +Majesty. I have come home on a night's leave--off there again to- +morrow. Boney's expected every day, the Lord be praised! Yes, our +hopes are to be fulfilled soon, as we say in the army. + + +OLD MAN + +There, there, Cantle; don't ye speak quite so large, and stand +so over-upright. Your back is as holler as a fire-dog's. Do ye +suppose that we on active service here don't know war news? Mind +you don't go taking to your heels when the next alarm comes, as you +did at last year's. + + +PRIVATE + +That had nothing to do with fighting, for I'm as bold as a lion when +I'm up, and "Shoulder Fawlocks!" sounds as common as my own name to +me. 'Twas--- (lowering his voice.) Have ye heard? + + +OLD MAN + +To be sure we have. + + +PRIVATE + +Ghastly, isn't it! + + +OLD MAN + +Ghastly! Frightful! + + +YOUNG MAN (to Private) + +He don't know what it is! That's his pride and puffery. What is it +that' so ghastly--hey? + + +PRIVATE + +Well, there, I can't tell it. 'Twas that that made the whole eighty +of our company run away--though we be the bravest of the brave in +natural jeopardies, or the little boys wouldn't run after us and +call us and call us the "Bang-up-Locals." + + +WOMAN (in undertones) + +I can tell you a word or two on't. It is about His victuals. They +say that He lives upon human flesh, and has rashers o' baby every +morning for breakfast--for all the world like the Cernal Giant in +old ancient times! + + +YOUNG MAN + +Ye can't believe all ye hear. + + +PRIVATE + +I only believe half. And I only own--such is my challengeful +character--that perhaps He do eat pagan infants when He's in the +desert. But not Christian ones at home. Oh no--'tis too much. + + +WOMAN + +Whether or no, I sometimes--God forgive me!--laugh wi' horror at +the queerness o't, till I am that weak I can hardly go round the +house. He should have the washing of 'em a few times; I warrant +'a wouldn't want to eat babies any more! + + [A silence, during which they gaze around at the dark dome of the + starless sky.] + + +YOUNG MAN + +There'll be a change in the weather soon, by the look o't. I can +hear the cows moo in Froom Valley as if I were close to 'em, and +the lantern at Max Turnpike is shining quite plain. + + +OLD MAN + +Well, come in and taste a drop o' sommat we've got here, that will +warm the cockles of your heart as ye wamble homealong. We housed +eighty tuns last night for them that shan't be named--landed at +Lullwind Cove the night afore, though they had a narrow shave with +the riding-officers this run. + + [They make toward the hut, when a light on the west horizon becomes + visible, and quickly enlarges.] + + +YOUNG MAN + +He's come! + + +OLD MAN + +Come he is, though you do say it! This, then, is the beginning of +what England's waited for! + + [They stand and watch the light awhile.] + + +YOUNG MAN + +Just what you was praising the Lord for by-now, Private Cantle. + + +PRIVATE + +My meaning was--- + + +WOMAN (simpering) + +Oh that I hadn't married a fiery sojer, to make me bring fatherless +children into the world, all through his dreadful calling! Why +didn't a man of no sprawl content me! + + +OLD MAN (shouldering his pike) + +We can't heed your innocent pratings any longer, good neighbours, +being in the King's service, and a hot invasion on. Fall in, fall +in, mate. Straight to the tinder-box. Quick march! + + [The two men hasten to the hut, and are heard striking a flint + and steel. Returning with a lit lantern they ignite a blaze. + The private of the Locals and his wife hastily retreat by the + light of the flaming beacon, under which the purple rotundities + of the heath show like bronze, and the pits like the eye-sockets + of a skull.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +This is good, and spells blood. (To the Chorus of the Years.) I +assume that It means to let us carry out this invasion with pleasing +slaughter, so as not to disappoint my hope? + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + We carry out? Nay, but should we + Ordain what bloodshed is to be it! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The Immanent, that urgeth all, + Rules what may or may not befall! + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Ere systemed suns were globed and lit + The slaughters of the race were writ, + + +SEMICHORUS II + + And wasting wars, by land and sea, + Fixed, like all else, immutably! + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +Well; be it so. My argument is that War makes rattling good +history; but Peace is poor reading. So I back Bonaparte for +the reason that he will give pleasure to posterity. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + +Gross hypocrite! + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS + + We comprehend him not. + + [The day breaks over the heathery upland, on which the beacon + is still burning. The morning reveals the white surface of a + highway which, coming from the royal watering-place beyond the + hills, stretched towards the outskirts of the heath and passes + away eastward.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Moving figures and vehicles dot the surface of the road, all +progressing in one direction, away from the coast. In the +foreground the shapes appear as those of civilians, mostly on +foot, but many in gigs and tradesmen's carts and on horseback. +When they reach an intermediate hill some pause and look back; +others enter on the next decline landwards without turning +their heads. + +From the opposite horizon numerous companies of volunteers, in the +local uniform of red with green facings,(5) are moving coastwards in +companies; as are also irregular bodies of pikemen without uniform; +while on the upper slopes of the downs towards the shore regiments +of the line are visible, with cavalry and artillery; all passing +over to the coast. + +At a signal from the Chief Intelligences two Phantoms of Rumour enter +on the highway in the garb of country-men. + + +FIRST PHANTOM (to Pedestrians) + +Wither so fast, good neighbours, and before breakfast, too? Empty +bellies be bad to vamp on. + + +FIRST PEDESTRIAN + +He's landed west'ard, out by Abbot's Beach. And if you have property +you'll save it and yourselves, as we are doing! + + +SECOND PEDESTRIAN + +All yesterday the firing at Boulogne +Was like the seven thunders heard in Heaven +When the fierce angel spoke. So did he draw +Full-manned, flat-bottomed for the shallowest shore, +Dropped down to west, and crossed our frontage here. +Seen from above they specked the water-shine +As will a flight of swallows toward dim eve, +Descending on a smooth and loitering stream +To seek some eyot's sedge. + + +SECOND PHANTOM + + We are sent to enlighten you and ease your soul. + Even now a courier canters to the port + To check the baseless scare. + + +FIRST PEDESTRIAN + +These be inland men who, I warrant 'ee, don't know a lerret from a +lighter! Let's take no heed of such, comrade; and hurry on! + + +FIRST PHANTOM + + Will you not hear + That what was seen behind the midnight mist, + Their oar-blades tossing twinkles to the moon, + Was but a fleet of fishing-craft belated + By reason of the vastness of their haul? + + +FIRST PEDESTRIAN + +Hey? And d'ye know it?--Now I look back to the top o' Rudgeway +the folk seem as come to a pause there.--Be this true, never again +do I stir my stumps for any alarm short of the Day of Judgment! +Nine times has my rheumatical rest been broke in these last three +years by hues and cries of Boney upon us. 'Od rot the feller; +now he's made a fool of me once more, till my inside is like a +wash-tub, what wi' being so gallied, and running so leery!--But +how if you be one of the enemy, sent to sow these tares, so to +speak it, these false tidings, and coax us into a fancied safety? +Hey, neighbours? I don't, after all, care for this story! + + +SECOND PEDESTRIAN + +Onwards again! +If Boney's come, 'tis best to be away; +And if he's not, why, we've a holiday! + + [Exeunt Pedestrians. The Spirits of Rumour vanish, while the scene + seems to become involved in the smoke from the beacon, and slowly + disappears.(6)] + + + + +ACT THIRD + + +SCENE I + +BOULOGNE. THE CHATEAU AT PONT-DE-BRIQUES + + [A room in the Chateau, which is used as the Imperial quarters. + The EMPEROR NAPOLEON, and M. GASPARD MONGE, the mathematician + and philosopher, are seated at breakfast.] + + +OFFICER + +Monsieur the Admiral Decres awaits +A moment's audience with your Majesty, +Or now, or later. + + +NAPOLEON + + Bid him in at once-- +At last Villeneuve has raised the Brest blockade! + + [Enter DECRES.] + +What of the squadron's movements, good Decres? +Brest opened, and all sailing Channelwards, +Like swans into a creek at feeding-time? + + +DECRES + +Such news was what I'd hoped, your Majesty, +To send across this daybreak. But events +Have proved intractable, it seems, of late; +And hence I haste in person to report +The featless facts that just have dashed my--- + + +NAPOLEON (darkening) + + Well? + + +DECRES + +Sire, at the very juncture when the fleets +Sailed out from Ferrol, fever raged aboard +"L'Achille" and "l'Algeciras": later on, +Mischief assailed our Spanish comrades' ships; +Several ran foul of neighbours; whose new hurts, +Being added to their innate clumsiness, +Gave hap the upper hand; and in quick course +Demoralized the whole; until Villeneuve, +Judging that Calder now with Nelson rode, +And prescient of unparalleled disaster +If he pushed on in so disjoint a trim, +Bowed to the inevitable; and thus, perforce, +Leaving to other opportunity +Brest and the Channel scheme, with vast regret +Steered southward into Cadiz. + + +NAPOLEON (having risen from the table) + + What!--Is, then, +My scheme of years to be disdained and dashed +By this man's like, a wretched moral coward, +Whom you must needs foist on me as one fit +For full command in pregnant enterprise! + + +MONGE (aside) + +I'm one too many here! Let me step out +Till this black squall blows over. Poor Decres. +Would that this precious project, disinterred +From naval archives of King Louis' reign, +Had ever lingered fusting where 'twas found.(7) + +[Exit Monge.] + + +NAPOLEON + +To help a friend you foul a country's fame!-- +Decres, not only chose you this Villeneuve, +But you have nourished secret sour opinions +Akin to his, and thereby helped to scathe +As stably based a project as this age +Has sunned to ripeness. Ever the French Marine +Have you decried, ever contrived to bring +Despair into the fleet! Why, this Villeneuve, +Your man, this rank incompetent, this traitor-- +Of whom I asked no more than fight and lose, +Provided he detain the enemy-- +A frigate is too great for his command! +what shall be said of one who, at a breath, +When a few casual sailors find them sick, +When falls a broken boom or slitten sail, +When rumour hints that Calder's tubs and Nelson's +May join, and bob about in company, +Is straightway paralyzed, and doubles back +On all his ripened plans!-- +Bring him, ay, bodily; hale him out from Cadiz, +Compel him up the Channel by main force, +And, having doffed him his supreme command, +Give the united squadrons to Ganteaume! + + +DECRES + +Your Majesty, while umbraged, righteously, +By an event my tongue dragged dry to tell, +Makes my hard situation over-hard +By your ascription to the actors in't +Of motives such and such. 'Tis not for me +To answer these reproaches, Sire, and ask +Why years-long mindfulness of France's fame +In things marine should win no confidence. +I speak; but am unable to convince! + +True is it that this man has been my friend +Since boyhood made us schoolmates; and I say +That he would yield the heel-drops of his heart +With joyful readiness this day, this hour, +To do his country service. Yet no less +Is it his drawback that he sees too far. +And there are times, Sire, when a shorter sight +Charms Fortune more. A certain sort of bravery +Some people have--to wit, this same Lord Nelson-- +Which is but fatuous faith in one's own star +Swoln to the very verge of childishness, +(Smugly disguised as putting trust in God, +A habit with these English folk); whereby +A headstrong blindness to contingencies +Carries the actor on, and serves him well +In some nice issues clearer sight would mar. +Such eyeless bravery Villeneuve has not; +But, Sire, he is no coward. + + +NAPOLEON + +Well, have it so!--What are we going to do? +My brain has only one wish--to succeed! + + +DECRES + +My voice wanes weaker with you, Sire; is nought! +Yet these few words, as Minister of Marine, +I'll venture now.--My process would be thus:-- +Our projects for a junction of the fleets +Being well-discerned and read by every eye +Through long postponement, England is prepared. +I would recast them. Later in the year +Form sundry squadrons of this massive one, +Harass the English till the winter time, +Then rendezvous at Cadiz; where leave half +To catch the enemy's eye and call their cruizers, +While rounding Scotland with the other half, +You make the Channel by the eastern strait, +Cover the passage of our army-boats, +And plant the blow. + + +NAPOLEON + + And what if they perceive +Our Scottish route, and meet us eastwardly? + + +DECRES + +I have thought of it, and planned a countermove; +I'll write the scheme more clearly and at length, +And send it hither to your Majesty. + + +NAPOLEON + +Do so forthwith; and send me in Daru. + + [Exit DECRES. Re-enter MONGE.] + +Our breakfast, Monge, to-day has been cut short, +And these discussions on the ancient tongues +Wherein you shine, must yield to modern moils. +Nay, hasten not away; though feeble wills, +Incompetence, ay, imbecility, +In some who feign to serve the cause of France, +Do make me other than myself just now!-- +Ah--here's Daru. + + [DARU enters. MONGE takes his leave.] + +Daru, sit down and write. Yes, here, at once, +This room will serve me now. What think you, eh? +Villeneuve has just turned tail and run to Cadiz. +So quite postponed--perhaps even overthrown-- +My long-conned project against yonder shore +As 'twere a juvenile's snow-built device +But made for melting! Think of it, Daru,-- +My God, my God, how can I talk thereon! +A plan well judged, well charted, well upreared, +To end in nothing! . . . Sit you down and write. + + [NAPOLEON walks up and down, and resumes after a silence.] + +Write this.--A volte-face 'tis indeed!--Write, write! + + +DARU (holding pen to paper) + +I wait, your Majesty. + + +NAPOLEON + + First Bernadotte-- +Yes; "Bernadotte moves out from Hanover +Through Hesse upon Wurzburg and the Danube.-- +Marmont from Holland bears along the Rhine, +And joins at Mainz and Wurzburg Bernadotte . . . + +While these prepare their routes the army here +Will turn its back on Britain's tedious shore, +And, closing up with Augereau at Brest, +Set out full force due eastward. . . . +By the Black forest feign a straight attack, +The while our purpose is to skirt its left, +Meet in Franconia Bernadotte and Marmont; +Traverse the Danube somewhat down from Ulm; +Entrap the Austrian column by their rear; +Surround them, cleave them; roll upon Vienna, +Where, Austria settled, I engage the Tsar, +While Massena detains in Italy +The Archduke Charles. + + Foreseeing such might shape, +Each high-and by-way to the Danube hence +I have of late had measured, mapped, and judged; +Such spots as suit for depots chosen and marked; +Each regiment's daily pace and bivouac +Writ tablewise for ready reference; +All which itineraries are sent herewith." + +So shall I crush the two gigantic sets +Upon the Empire, now grown imminent. +--Let me reflect.--First Bernadotte---but nay, +The courier to Marmont must go first. +Well, well.--The order of our march from hence +I will advise. . . . My knock at George's door +With bland inquiries why his royal hand +Withheld due answer to my friendly lines, +And tossed the irksome business to his clerks, +Is thus perforce delayed. But not for long. +Instead of crossing, thitherward I tour +By roundabout contrivance not less sure! + + +DARU + +I'll bring the writing to your Majesty. + + [NAPOLEON and DARU go out severally.] + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + Recording Angel, trace + This bold campaign his thought has spun apace-- + One that bids fair for immortality + Among the earthlings--if immortal deeds + May be ascribed to so extemporary + And transient a race! + It will be called, in rhetoric and rhyme, + As son to sire succeeds, + A model for the tactics of all time; + "The Great Campaign of that so famed year Five," + By millions of mankind not yet alive. + + + +SCENE II + +THE FRONTIERS OF UPPER AUSTRIA AND BAVARIA + + [A view of the country from mid-air, at a point south of the + River Inn, which is seen as a silver thread, winding northward + between its junction with the Salza and the Danube, and forming + the boundaries of the two countries. The Danube shows itself as + a crinkled satin riband, stretching from left to right in the + far background of the picture, the Inn discharging its waters + into the larger river.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +A vast Austrian army creeps dully along the mid-distance, in +the detached masses and columns of a whitish cast. The columns +insensibly draw nearer to each other, and are seen to be converging +from the east upon the banks of the Inn aforesaid. + + +A RECORDING ANGEL (in recitative) + + This movement as of molluscs on a leaf, + Which from our vantage here we scan afar, + Is one manoeuvred by the famous Mack + To countercheck Napoleon, still believed + To be intent on England from Boulogne, + And heedless of such rallies in his rear. + Mack's enterprise is now to cross Bavaria-- + Beneath us stretched in ripening summer peace + As field unwonted for these ugly jars-- + + Outraged Bavaria, simmering in disquiet + At Munich down behind us, Isar-fringed, + And torn between his fair wife's hate of France + And his own itch to gird at Austrian bluff + For riding roughshod through his territory, + Wavers from this to that. The while Time hastes + The eastward streaming of Napoleon's host, + As soon we see. + +The silent insect-creep of the Austrian columns towards the banks of +the Inn continues to be seen till the view fades to nebulousness and +dissolves. + + + +SCENE III + +BOULOGNE. THE ST. OMER ROAD + + [It is morning at the end of August, and the road stretches out + of the town eastward. + + The divisions of the "Army-for-England" are making preparations + to march. Some portions are in marching order. Bands strike + up, and the regiments start on their journey towards the Rhine + and Danube. Bonaparte and his officers watch the movements from + an eminence. The soldiers, as they pace along under their eagles + with beaming eyes, sing "Le Chant du Depart," and other martial + songs, shout "Vive l'Empereur!" and babble of repeating the days + of Italy, Egypt, Marengo, and Hohenlinden.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Anon to England! + + +CHORUS OF INTELLIGENCES (aerial music) + + If Time's weird threads so weave! + + [The scene as it lingers exhibits the gradual diminishing of + the troops along the roads through the undulating August + landscape, till each column is seen but as a train of dust; + and the disappearance of each marching mass over the eastern + horizon.] + + + + +ACT FOURTH + + +SCENE I + +KING GEORGE'S WATERING-PLACE, SOUTH WESSEX + + [A sunny day in autumn. A room in the red-brick royal residence + know as Gloucester Lodge.(8) + + At a front triple-lighted window stands a telescope on a tripod. + Through the open middle sash is visible the crescent-curved + expanse of the Bay as a sheet of brilliant translucent green, + on which ride vessels of war at anchor. On the left hand white + cliffs stretch away till they terminate in St. Aldhelm's Head, + and form a background to the level water-line on that side. In + the centre are the open sea and blue sky. A near headland rises + on the right, surmounted by a battery, over which appears the + remoter bald grey brow of the Isle of Slingers. + + In the foreground yellow sands spread smoothly, whereon there + are sundry temporary erections for athletic sports; and closer + at hand runs an esplanade on which a fashionable crowd is + promenading. Immediately outside the Lodge are companies of + soldiers, groups of officers, and sentries. + + Within the room the KING and PITT are discovered. The KING'S + eyes show traces of recent inflammation, and the Minister has + a wasted look.] + + +KING + +Yes, yes; I grasp your reasons, Mr. Pitt, +And grant you audience gladly. More than that, +Your visit to this shore is apt and timely, +And if it do but yield you needful rest +From fierce debate, and other strains of office +Which you and I in common have to bear, +'Twill be well earned. The bathing is unmatched +Elsewhere in Europe,--see its mark on me!-- +The air like liquid life.--But of this matter: +What argue these late movements seen abroad? +What of the country now the session's past; +What of the country, eh? and of the war? + + +PITT + +The thoughts I have laid before your Majesty +Would make for this, in sum:-- +That Mr. Fox, Lord Grenville, and their friends, +Be straightway asked to join. With Melville gone, +With Sidmouth, and with Buckinghamshire too, +The steerage of affairs has stood of late +Somewhat provisional, as you, sir, know, +With stop-gap functions thrust on offices +Which common weal can tolerate but awhile. +So, for the weighty reasons I have urged, +I do repeat my most respectful hope +To win your Majesty's ungrudged assent +To what I have proposed. + + +KING + + But nothing, sure, +Has been more plain to all, dear Mr. Pitt, +Than that your own proved energy and scope +Is ample, without aid, to carry on +Our just crusade against the Corsican. +Why, then, go calling Fox and Grenville in? +Such helps we need not. Pray you think upon't, +And speak to me again.--We've had alarms +Making us skip like crackers at our heels, +That Bonaparte had landed close hereby. + + +PITT + +Such rumours come as regularly as harvest. + + +KING + +And now he has left Boulogne with all his host? +Was it his object to invade at all, +Or was his vast assemblage there a blind? + + +PITT + +Undoubtedly he meant invasion, sir, +Had fortune favoured. He may try it yet. +And, as I said, could we but close with Fox--- + + +KING + +But, but;--I ask, what is his object now? +Lord Nelson's Captain--Hardy--whose old home +Stands in a peaceful vale hard by us here-- +Who came two weeks ago to see his friends, +I talked to in this room a lengthy while. +He says our navy still is in thick night +As to the aims by sea of Bonaparte +Now the Boulogne attempt has fizzled out, +And what he schemes afloat with Spain combined. +The "Victory" lay that fortnight at Spithead, +And Nelson since has gone aboard and sailed; +Yes, sailed again. The "Royal Sovereign" follows, +And others her. Nelson was hailed and cheered +To huskiness while leaving Southsea shore, +Gentle and simple wildly thronging round. + + +PITT + +Ay, sir. Young women hung upon his arm, +And old ones blessed, and stroked him with their hands. + + +KING + +Ah--you have heard, of course. God speed him, Pitt. + + +PITT + +Amen, amen! + + +KING + + I read it as a thing +Of signal augury, and one which bodes +Heaven's confidence in me and in my line, +That I should rule as King in such an age! . . . +Well, well.--So this new march of Bonaparte's +Was unexpected, forced perchance on him? + + +PITT + +It may be so, your Majesty; it may. +Last noon the Austrian ambassador, +Whom I consulted ere I posted down, +Assured me that his latest papers word +How General Mack and eighty thousand men +Have made good speed across Bavaria +To wait the French and give them check at Ulm, +That fortress-frontier-town, entrenched and walled, +A place long chosen as a vantage-point +Whereon to encounter them as they outwind +From the blind shades and baffling green defiles +Of the Black Forest, worn with wayfaring. +Here Mack will intercept his agile foe +Hasting to meet the Russians in Bohemia, +And cripple him, if not annihilate. + +Thus now, sir, opens out this Great Alliance +Of Russia, Austria, England, whereto I +Have lent my earnest efforts through long months, +And the realm gives her money, ships, and men.-- +It claps a muffler round the Cock's steel spurs, +And leaves me sanguine on his overthrow. +But, then,--this coalition of resources +Demands a strong and active Cabinet +To aid your Majesty's directive hand; +And thus I urge again the said additions-- +These brilliant intellects of the other side +Who stand by Fox. With us conjoined, they--- + + +KING + +What, what, again--in face of my sound reasons! +Believe me, Pitt, you underrate yourself; +You do not need such aid. The splendid feat +Of banding Europe in a righteous cause +That you have achieved, so soon to put to shame +This wicked bombardier of dynasties +That rule by right Divine, goes straight to prove +We had best continue as we have begun, +And call no partners to our management. +To fear dilemmas horning up ahead +Is not your wont. Nay, nay, now, Mr. Pitt, +I must be firm. And if you love your King +You'll goad him not so rashly to embrace +This Fox-Grenville faction and its friends. +Rather than Fox, why, give me civil war! +Hey, what? But what besides? + + +PITT + +I say besides, sir, . . . nothing! + + [A silence.] + + +KING (cheerfully) + +The Chancellor's here, and many friends of mine: Lady Winchelsea, +Lord and Lady Chesterfield, Lady Bulkeley, General Garth, and Mr. +Phipps the oculist--not the least important to me. He is a worthy +and a skilful man. My eyes, he says, are as marvellously improved +in durability as I know them to be in power. I have arranged to go +to-morrow with the Princesses, and the Dukes of Cumberland, Sussex, +and Cambridge (who are also here) for a ride on the Ridgeway, and +through the Camp on the downs. You'll accompany us there? + + +PITT + +I am honoured by your Majesty's commands. + + [PITT looks resignedly out of the window.] + +What curious structure do I see outside, sir? + + +KING + +It's but a stage, a type of all the world. The burgesses have +arranged it in my honour. At six o'clock this evening there are +to be combats at single-stick to amuse the folk; four guineas +the prize for the man who breaks most heads. Afterward there +is to be a grinning match through horse-collars--a very humorous +sport which I must stay here and witness; for I am interested in +whatever entertains my subjects. + + +PITT + +Not one in all the land but knows it, sir. + + +KING + +Now, Mr. Pitt, you must require repose; +Consult your own convenience then, I beg, +On when you leave. + +PITT + + I thank your Majesty. + + [He departs as one whose purpose has failed, and the scene shuts.] + + + +SCENE II + +BEFORE THE CITY OF ULM + + [A prospect of the city from the east, showing in the foreground + a low-lying marshy country bounded in mid-distance by the banks + of the Danube, which, bordered by poplars and willows, flows + across the picture from the left to the Elchingen Bridge near + the right of the scene, and is backed by irregular heights and + terraces of espaliered vines. Between these and the river stands + the city, crowded with old gabled houses and surrounded by walls, + bastions, and a ditch, all the edifices being dominated by the + nave and tower of the huge Gothic Munster. + + On the most prominent of the heights at the back--the Michaelsberg + --to the upper-right of the view, is encamped the mass of the + Austrian army, amid half-finished entrenchments. Advanced posts + of the same are seen south-east of the city, not far from the + advanced corps of the French Grand-Army under SOULT, MARMONT, + LANNES, NEY, and DUPONT, which occupy in a semicircle the whole + breadth of the flat landscape in front, and extend across the + river to higher ground on the right hand of the panorama. + + Heavy mixed drifts of rain and snow are descending impartially + on the French and on the Austrians, the downfall nearly blotting + out the latter on the hills. A chill October wind wails across + the country, and the poplars yield slantingly to the gusts.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Drenched peasants are busily at work, fortifying the heights of +the Austrian position in the face of the enemy. Vague companies +of Austrians above, and of the French below, hazy and indistinct +in the thick atmosphere, come and go without apparent purpose +near their respective lines. + +Closer at hand NAPOLEON, in his familiar blue-grey overcoat, rides +hither and thither with his marshals, haranguing familiarly the +bodies of soldiery as he passes them, and observing and pointing +out the disposition of the Austrians to his companions. + +Thicker sheets of rain fly across as the murk of evening increases, +which at length entirely obscures the prospect, and cloaks its +bleared lights and fires. + + + +SCENE III + +ULM. WITHIN THE CITY + + [The interior of the Austrian headquarters on the following + morning. A tempest raging without. + + GENERAL MACK, haggard and anxious, the ARCHDUKE FERDINAND, PRINCE + SCHWARZENBERG, GENERAL JELLACHICH, GENERALS RIESC, BIBERBACH, and + other field officers discovered, seated at a table with a map + spread out before them. A wood fire blazes between tall andirons + in a yawning fireplace. At every more than usually boisterous + gust of wind the smoke flaps into the room.] + + +MACK + +The accursed cunning of our adversary +Confounds all codes of honourable war, +Which ever have held as granted that the track +Of armies bearing hither from the Rhine-- +Whether in peace or strenuous invasion-- +Should pierce the Schwarzwald, and through Memmingen, +And meet us in our front. But he must wind +And corkscrew meanly round, where foot of man +Can scarce find pathway, stealing up to us +Thiefwise, by out back door! Nevertheless, +If English war-fleets be abreast Boulogne, +As these deserters tell, and ripe to land there, +It destines Bonaparte to pack him back +Across the Rhine again. We've but to wait, +And see him go. + + +ARCHDUKE + +But who shall say if these bright tales be true? + + +MACK + +Even then, small matter, your Imperial Highness; +The Russians near us daily, and must soon-- +Ay, far within the eight days I have named-- +Be operating to untie this knot, +If we hold on. + + +ARCHDUKE + + Conjectures these--no more; +I stomach not such waiting. Neither hope +Has kernel in it. I and my cavalry +With caution, when the shadow fall to-night, +Can bore some hole in this engirdlement; +Outpass the gate north-east; join General Werneck, +And somehow cut our way Bohemia-wards: +Well worth the hazard, in our straitened case! + + +MACK (firmly) + +The body of our force stays here with me. +And I am much surprised, your Highness, much, +You mark not how destructive 'tis to part! +If we wait on, for certain we should wait +In our full strength, compacted, undispersed +By such partition as your Highness plans. + + +SCHWARZENBERG + +There's truth in urging we should not divide, +But weld more closely.--Yet why stay at all? +Methinks there's but one sure salvation left, +To wit, that we conjunctly march herefrom, +And with much circumspection, towards the Tyrol. +The subtle often rack their wits in vain-- +Assay whole magazines of strategy-- +To shun ill loomings deemed insuperable, +When simple souls by stumbling up to them +Find the grim shapes but air. But let use grant +That the investing French so ring us in +As to leave not a span for such exploit; +Then go we--throw ourselves upon their steel, +And batter through, or die!-- +What say you, Generals? Speak your minds, I pray. + + +JELLACHICH + +I favour marching out--the Tyrol way. + + +RIESC + +Bohemia best! The route thereto is open. + + +ARCHDUKE + +My course is chosen. O this black campaign, +Which Pitt's alarmed dispatches pricked us to, +All unforseeing! Any risk for me +Rather than court humiliation here! + + [MACK has risen during the latter remarks, walked to the + window, and looked out at the rain. He returns with an air + of embarrassment.] + + +MACK (to Archduke) + +It is my privilege firmly to submit +That your Imperial Highness undertake +No venturous vaulting into risks unknown.-- +Assume that you, Sire, as you have proposed, +With your light regiments and the cavalry, +Detach yourself from us, to scoop a way +By circuits northwards through the Rauhe Alps +And Herdenheim, into Bohemia: +Reports all point that you will be attacked, +Enveloped, borne on to capitulate. +What worse can happen here?-- +Remember, Sire, the Emperor deputes me, +Should such a clash arise as has arisen, +To exercise supreme authority. +The honour of our arms, our race, demands +That none of your Imperial Highness' line +Be pounded prisoner by this vulgar foe, +Who is not France, but an adventurer, +Imposing on that country for his gain. + + +ARCHDUKE + +But it seems clear to me that loitering here +Is full as like to compass our surrender +As moving hence. And ill it therefore suits +The mood of one of my high temperature +To pause inactive while await me means +Of desperate cure for these so desperate ills! + + [The ARCHDUKE FERDINAND goes out. A troubled, silence follows, + during which the gusts call into the chimney, and raindrops spit + on the fire.] + + +SCHWARZENBERG + +The Archduke bears him shrewdly in this course. +We may as well look matters in the face, +And that we are cooped and cornered is most clear; +Clear it is, too, that but a miracle +Can work to loose us! I have stoutly held +That this man's three years' ostentatious scheme +To fling his army on the tempting shores +Of our Allies the English was a--well-- +Scarce other than a trick of thimble-rig +To still us into false security. + + +JELLACHICH + +Well, I know nothing. None needs list to me, +But, on the whole, to southward seems the course +For lunging, all in force, immediately. + + [Another pause.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + The Will throws Mack again into agitation: + Ho-ho--what he'll do now! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Nay, hard one, nay; + The clouds weep for him! + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + If he must; + And it's good antic at a vacant time! + + [MACK goes restlessly to the door, and is heard pacing about + the vestibule, and questioning the aides and other officers + gathered there.] + + +A GENERAL + +He wavers like this smoke-wreath that inclines +Or north, or south, as the storm-currents rule! + + +MACK (returning) + +Bring that deserter hither once again. + + [A French soldier is brought in, blindfolded and guarded. The + bandage is removed.] + +Well, tell us what he says. + + +AN OFFICER (after speaking to the prisoner in French) + + He still repeats +That the whole body of the British strength +Is even now descending on Boulogne, +And that self-preservation must, if need, +Clear us from Bonaparte ere many days, +Who momently is moving. + + +MACK + + Still retain him. + + [He walks to the fire, and stands looking into it. The soldier + is taken out.] + + +JELLACHICH (bending over the map in argument with RIESC) + +I much prefer our self-won information; +And if we have Marshal Soult at Landsberg here, +(Which seems to be truth, despite this man,) +And Dupont hard upon us at Albeck, +With Ney not far from Gunzburg; somewhere here, +Or further down the river, lurking Lannes, +Our game's to draw off southward--if we can! + + +MACK (turning) + +I have it. This we'll do. You Jellachich, +Unite with Spangen's troops at Memmingen, +To fend off mischief there. And you, Riesc, +Will make your utmost haste to occupy +The bridge and upper ground at Elchingen, +And all along the left bank of the stream, +Till you observe whereon to concentrate +And sever their connections. I couch here, +And hold the city till the Russians come. + + +A GENERAL (in a low voice) + +Disjunction seems of all expedients worst: +If any stay, then stay should every man, +Gather, inlace, and close up hip to hip, +And perk and bristle hedgehog-like with spines! + + +MACK + +The conference is ended, friends, I say, +And orders will be issued here forthwith. + + [Guns heard.] + + +AN OFFICER + +Surely that's from the Michaelsberg above us? + + +MACK + +Never care. Here we stay. In five more days +The Russians hail, and we regain our bays. + + [Exeunt severally.] + + + +SCENE IV + +BEFORE ULM. THE SAME DAY + + [A high wind prevails, and rain falls in torrents. An elevated + terrace near Elchingen forms the foreground.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +From the terrace BONAPARTE surveys and dictates operations against +the entrenched heights of the Michaelsberg that rise in the middle +distance on the right above the city. Through the gauze of +descending waters the French soldiery can be discerned climbing +to the attack under NEY. + +They slowly advance, recede, re-advance, halt. A time of suspense +follows. Then they are seen in a state of irregular movement, even +confusion; but in the end they carry the heights with the bayonet. + +Below the spot whereon NAPOLEON and his staff are gathered, +glistening wet and plastered with mud, obtrudes on the left the +village of Elchingen, now in the hands of the French. Its white- +walled monastery, its bridge over the Danube, recently broken by +the irresistible NEY, wear a desolated look, and the stream, which +is swollen by the rainfall and rasped by the storm, seems wanly to +sympathize. + +Anon shells are dropped by the French from the summits they have +gained into the city below. A bomb from an Austrian battery falls +near NAPOLEON, and in bursting raises a fountain of mud. The +Emperor retreats with his officers to a less conspicuous station. + +Meanwhile LANNES advances from a position near NAPOLEON till his +columns reach the top of the Frauenberg hard by. The united corps +of LANNES and NEY descend on the inner slope of the heights towards +the city walls, in the rear of the retreating Austrians. One +of the French columns scales a bastion, but NAPOLEON orders the +assault to be discontinued, and with the wane of day the spectacle +disappears. + + + +SCENE V + +THE SAME. THE MICHAELSBERG + + [A chilly but rainless noon three days later. At the back of the + scene, northward, rise the Michaelsberg heights; below stretches + the panorama of the city and the Danube. On a secondary eminence + forming a spur of the upper hill, a fire of logs is burning, the + foremost group beside it being NAPOLEON and his staff, the former + in his shabby greatcoat and plain turned-up hat, walking to and + fro with his hands behind him, and occasionally stopping to warm + himself. The French infantry are drawn up in a dense array at + the back of these. + + The whole Austrian garrison of Ulm marches out of the city gate + opposite NAPOLEON. GENERAL MACK is at the head, followed by + GIULAY, GOTTESHEIM, KLINAU, LICHTENSTEIN, and many other officers, + who advance to BONAPARTE and deliver their swords.] + + +MACK + +Behold me, Sire. Mack the unfortunate! + + +NAPOLEON + +War, General, ever has its ups and downs, +And you must take the better and the worse +As impish chance or destiny ordains. +Come near and warm you here. A glowing fire +Is life on the depressing, mired, moist days +Of smitten leaves down-dropping clammily, +And toadstools like the putrid lungs of men. +(To his Lieutenants.) Cause them so stand to right and left of me. + + [The Austrian officers arrange themselves as directed, and the + body of the Austrians now file past their Conqueror, laying down + their arms as they approach; some with angry gestures and words, + others in moody silence.] + +Listen, I pray you, Generals gathered her. +I tell you frankly that I know not why +Your master wages this wild war with me. +I know not what he seeks by such injustice, +Unless to give me practice in my trade-- +That of a soldier--whereto I was bred: +Deemed he my craft might slip from me, unplied? +Let him now own me still a dab therein! + + +MACK + +Permit me, your Imperial Majesty, +To speak one word in answer; which is this, +No war was wished for by my Emperor: +Russia constrained him to it! + + +NAPOLEON + + If that be, +You are no more a European power.-- +I would point out to him that my resources +Are not confined to these my musters here; +My prisoners of war, in route for France, +Will see some marks of my resources there! +Two hundred thousand volunteers, right fit, +Will join my standards at a single nod, +And in six weeks prove soldiers to the bone, +Whilst you recruits, compulsion's scavengings, +Scarce weld to warriors after toilsome years. + +But I want nothing on this Continent: +The English only are my enemies. +Ships, colonies, and commerce I desire, +Yea, therewith to advantage you as me. +Let me then charge your Emperor, my brother, +To turn his feet the shortest way to peace.-- +All states must have an end, the weak, the strong; +Ay; even may fall the dynasty of Lorraine! + + [The filing past and laying down of arms by the Austrian army + continues with monotonous regularity, as if it would never end.] + + +NAPOLEON (in a murmur, after a while) + +Well, what cares England! She has won her game; +I have unlearnt to threaten her from Boulogne. . . . + +Her gold it is that forms the weft of this +Fair tapestry of armies marshalled here! +Likewise of Russia's drawing steadily nigh. +But they may see what these see, by and by. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + So let him speak, the while we clearly sight him + Moved like a figure on a lantern-slide. + Which, much amazing uninitiate eyes, + The all-compelling crystal pane but drags + Wither the showman wills. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + And yet, my friend, + The Will itself might smile at this collapse + Of Austria's men-at-arms, so drolly done; + Even as, in your phantasmagoric show, + The deft manipulator of the slide + Might smile at his own art. + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + Ah, no: ah, no! + It is impassible as glacial snow.-- + Within the Great Unshaken + These painted shapes awaken + A lesser thrill than doth the gentle lave + Of yonder bank by Danube's wandering wave + Within the Schwarzwald heights that give it flow! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + But O, the intolerable antilogy + Of making figments feel! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Logic's in that. + It does not, I must own, quite play the game. + + +CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + And this day wins for Ulm a dingy fame, + Which centuries shall not bleach from her name! + + [The procession of Austrians continues till the scene is hidden + by haze.] + + + +SCENE VI + +LONDON. SPRING GARDENS + + [Before LORD MALMESBURY'S house, on a Sunday morning in the + same autumn. Idlers pause and gather in the background. + + PITT enters, and meets LORD MULGRAVE.] + + +MULGRAVE + +Good day, Pitt. Ay, these leaves that skim the ground +With withered voices, hint that sunshine-time +Is well-nigh past.--And so the game's begun +Between him and the Austro-Russian force, +As second movement in the faceabout +From Boulogne shore, with which he has hocussed us?-- +What has been heard on't? Have they clashed as yet? + + +PITT + +The Emperor Francis, partly at my instance, +Has thrown the chief command on General Mack, +A man most capable and far of sight. +He centres by the Danube-bank at Ulm, +A town well-walled, and firm for leaning on +To intercept the French in their advance +From the Black Forest toward the Russian troops +Approaching from the east. If Bonaparte +Sustain his marches at the break-neck speed +That all report, they must have met ere now. +--There is a rumour . . . quite impossible! . . . + + +MULGRAVE + +You still have faith in Mack as strategist? +There have been doubts of his far-sightedness. + + +PITT (hastily) + +I know, I know.--I am calling here at Malmesbury's +At somewhat an unceremonious time +To ask his help to translate this Dutch print +The post has brought. Malmesbury is great at Dutch, +Learning it long at Leyden, years ago. + + [He draws a newspaper from his pocket, unfolds it, and glances + it down.] + +There's news here unintelligible to me +Upon the very matter! You'll come in? + + [They call at LORD MAMESBURY'S. He meets them in the hall, and + welcomes them with an apprehensive look of foreknowledge.] + + +PITT + +Pardon this early call. The packet's in, +And wings me this unreadable Dutch paper, +So, as the offices are closed to-day, +I have brought it round to you. + +(Handling the paper.) + + What does it say? +For God's sake, read it out. You know the tongue. + + +MALMESBURY (with hesitation) + +I have glanced it through already--more than once-- +A copy having reached me, too, by now . . . +We are in the presence of a great disaster! +See here. It says that Mack, enjailed in Ulm +By Bonaparte--from four side shutting round-- +Capitulated, and with all his force +Laid down his arms before his conqueror! + + [PITT's face changes. A silence.] + + +MULGRAVE + +Outrageous! Ignominy unparalleled! + + +PITT + +By God, my lord, these statement must be false! +These foreign prints are trustless as Cheap Jack +Dumfounding yokels at a country fair. +I heed no word of it.--Impossible. +What! Eighty thousand Austrians, nigh in touch +With Russia's levies that Kutuzof leads, +To lay down arms before the war's begun? +'Tis too much! + + +MALMESBURY + + But I fear it is too true! +Note the assevered source of the report-- +One beyond thought of minters of mock tales. +The writer adds that military wits +Cry that the little Corporal now makes war +In a new way, using his soldiers' legs +And not their arms, to bring him victory. +Ha-ha! The quip must sting the Corporal's foes. + +PITT (after a pause) + +O vacillating Prussia! Had she moved, +Had she but planted one foot firmly down, +All this had been averted.--I must go. +'Tis sure, 'tis sure, I labour but in vain! + + [MALMESBURY accompanies him to the door, and PITT walks away + disquietedly towards Whitehall, the other two regarding him + as he goes.] + + +MULGRAVE + +Too swiftly he declines to feebleness, +And these things well might shake a stouter frame! + + +MALMESBURY + +Of late the burden of all Europe's cares, +Of hiring and maintaining half her troops, +His single pair of shoulders has upborne, +Thanks to the obstinacy of the King.-- +His thin, strained face, his ready irritation, +Are ominous signs. He may not be for long. + + +MULGRAVE + +He alters fast, indeed,--as do events. + + +MALMESBURY + +His labour's lost; and all our money gone! +It looks as if this doughty coalition +On which we have lavished so much pay and pains +Would end in wreck. + + +MULGRAVE + + All is not over yet; +The gathering Russian forces are unbroke. + + +MALMESBURY + +Well; we shall see. Should Boney vanquish these, +And silence all resistance on that side, +His move will then be backward to Boulogne, +And so upon us. + + +MULGRAVE + + Nelson to our defence! + + +MALMESBURY + +Ay; where is Nelson? Faith, by this time +He may be sodden; churned in Biscay swirls; +Or blown to polar bears by boreal gales; +Or sleeping amorously in some calm cave +On the Canaries' or Atlantis' shore +Upon the bosom of his Dido dear, +For all that we know! Never a sound of him +Since passing Portland one September day-- +To make for Cadiz; so 'twas then believed. + + +MULGRAVE + +He's staunch. He's watching, or I am much deceived. + + [MULGRAVE departs. MALMESBURY goes within. The scene shuts.] + + + + +ACT FIFTH + + +SCENE I + +OFF CAPE TRAFALGAR + + [A bird's eye view of the sea discloses itself. It is daybreak, + and the broad face of the ocean is fringed on its eastern edge + by the Cape and the Spanish shore. On the rolling surface + immediately beneath the eye, ranged more or less in two parallel + lines running north and south, one group from the twain standing + off somewhat, are the vessels of the combined French and Spanish + navies, whose canvases, as the sun edges upward, shine in its + rays like satin. + + On the western horizon two columns of ships appear in full sail, + small as moths to the aerial vision. They are bearing down + towards the combined squadrons.] + + +RECORDING ANGEL I (intoning from his book) + + At last Villeneuve accepts the sea and fate, + Despite the Cadiz council called of late, + Whereat his stoutest captains--men the first + To do all mortals durst-- + Willing to sail, and bleed, and bear the worst, + Short of cold suicide, did yet opine + That plunging mid those teeth of treble line + In jaws of oaken wood + Held open by the English navarchy + With suasive breadth and artful modesty, + Would smack of purposeless foolhardihood. + + +RECORDING ANGEL II + + But word came, writ in mandatory mood, + To put from Cadiz, gain Toulon, and straight + At a said sign on Italy operate. + Moreover that Villeneuve, arrived as planned, + Would find Rosily in supreme command.-- + Gloomy Villeneuve grows rash, and, darkly brave, + Leaps to meet war, storm, Nelson--even the grave. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + Ere the concussion hurtle, draw abreast + Of the sea. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Where Nelson's hulls are rising from the west, + Silently. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + + Each linen wing outspread, each man and lad + Sworn to be + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Amid the vanmost, or for Death, or glad + Victory! + + [The point of sight descends till it is near the deck of the + "Bucentaure," the flag-ship of VILLENEUVE. Present thereupon + are the ADMIRAL, his FLAG-CAPTAIN MAGENDIE, LIEUTENANT + DAUDIGNON, other naval officers and seamen.] + + +MAGENDIE + +All night we have read their signals in the air, +Whereby the peering frigates of their van +Have told them of our trend. + + +VILLENEUVE + + The enemy +Makes threat as though to throw him on our stern: +Signal the fleet to wear; bid Gravina +To come in from manoeuvring with his twelve, +And range himself in line. + + [Officers murmur.] + + I say again +Bid Gravina draw hither with his twelve, +And signal all to wear!--and come upon +The larboard tack with every bow anorth!-- +So we make Cadiz in the worst event. +And patch our rags up there. As we head now +Our only practicable thoroughfare +Is through Gibraltar Strait--a fatal door! + +Signal to close the line and leave no gaps. +Remember, too, what I have already told: +Remind them of it now. They must not pause +For signallings from me amid a strife +Whose chaos may prevent my clear discernment, +Or may forbid my signalling at all. +The voice of honour then becomes the chief's; +Listen they thereto, and set every stitch +To heave them on into the fiercest fight. +Now I will sum up all: heed well the charge; +EACH CAPTAIN, PETTY OFFICER, AND MAN +IS ONLY AT HIS POST WHEN UNDER FIRE. + + [The ships of the whole fleet turn their bows from south to + north as directed, and close up in two parallel curved columns, + the concave side of each column being towards the enemy, and + the interspaces of the first column being, in general, opposite + the hulls of the second.] + + +AN OFFICER (straining his eyes towards the English fleet) + +How they skip on! Their overcrowded sail +Bulge like blown bladders in a tripeman's shop +The market-morning after slaughterday! + + +PETTY OFFICER + +It's morning before slaughterday with us, +I make so bold to bode! + + [The English Admiral is seen to be signalling to his fleet. The + signal is: "ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY." A loud + cheering from all the English ships comes undulating on the wind + when the signal is read.] + + +VILLENEUVE + +They are signalling too--Well, business soon begins! +You will reserve your fire. And be it known +That we display no admirals' flags at all +Until the action's past. 'Twill puzzle them, +And work to our advantage when we close.-- +Yes, they are double-ranked, I think, like us; +But we shall see anon. + + +MAGENDIE + + The foremost one +Makes for the "Santa Ana." In such case +The "Fougueux" might assist her. + + +VILLENEUVE + + Be it so-- +There's time enough.--Our ships will be in place, +And ready to speak back in iron words +When theirs cry Hail! in the same sort of voice. + + [They prepare to receive the northernmost column of the enemy's + ships headed by the "Victory," trying the distance by an occasional + single shot. During their suspense a discharge is heard southward, + and turning they behold COLLINGWOOD at the head of his column in + the "Royal Sovereign," just engaging with the Spanish "Santa Ana." + Meanwhile the "Victory's" mizzen-topmast, with spars and a quantity + of rigging, is seen to have fallen, her wheel to be shot away, and + her deck encumbered with dead and wounded men.] + + +VILLENEUVE + +'Tis well! But see; their course is undelayed, +And still they near in clenched audacity! + + +DAUDIGNON + +Which aim deft Lucas o' the "Redoubtable" +Most gallantly bestirs him to outscheme.-- +See, how he strains, that on his timbers fall +Blows that were destined for his Admiral! + + [During this the French ship "Redoubtable" is moving forward + to interpose itself between the approaching "Victory" and the + "Bucentaure."] + + +VILLENEUVE + +Now comes it! The "Santisima Trinidad," +The old "Redoubtable's" hard sides, and ours, +Will take the touse of this bombastic blow. +Your grapnels and your boarding-hatchets--ready! +We'll dash our eagle on the English deck, +And swear to fetch it! + + +CREW + + Ay! We swear. Huzza +Long live the Emperor! + + [But the "Victory" suddenly swerves to the rear of the "Bucentaure," + and crossing her stern-waters, discharges a broadside into her and + the "Redoubtable" endwise, wrapping the scene in folds of smoke. + The point of view changes.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE SAME. THE QUARTER-DECK OF THE "VICTORY" + + [The van of each division of the English fleet has drawn to the + windward side of the combined fleets of the enemy, and broken + their order, the "Victory" being now parallel to and alongside + the "Redoubtable," the "Temeraire" taking up a station on the + other side of that ship. The "Bucentaure" and the "Santisima + Trinidad" become jammed together a little way ahead. A smoke + and din of cannonading prevail, amid which the studding-sail + booms are shot away. + + NELSON, HARDY, BLACKWOOD, SECRETARY SCOTT, LIEUTENANT PASCO, + BURKE the Purser, CAPTAIN ADAIR of the Marines, and other + officers are on or near the quarter-deck.] + + +NELSON + +See, there, that noble fellow Collingwood, +How straight he helms his ship into the fire!-- +Now you'll haste back to yours (to BLACKWOOD). + --We must henceforth +Trust to the Great Disposer of events, +And justice of our cause! . . . + +[BLACKWOOD leaves. The battle grows hotter. A double-headed shot +cuts down seven or eight marines on the "Victory's" poop.] + +Captain Adair, part those marines of yours, +And hasten to disperse them round the ship.-- +Your place is down below, Burke, not up here; +Ah, yes; like David you would see the battle! + + [A heavy discharge of musket-shot comes from the tops of the + "Santisima Trinidad. ADAIR and PASCO fall. Another swathe + of Marines is mowed down by chain-shot.] + + +SCOTT + +My lord, I use to you the utmost prayers +That I have privilege to shape in words: +Remove your stars and orders, I would beg; +That shot was aimed at you. + + +NELSON + +They were awarded to me as an honour, +And shall I do despite to those who prize me, +And slight their gifts? No, I will die with them, +If die I must. + + [He walks up and down with HARDY.] + + +HARDY + + At least let's put you on +Your old greatcoat, my lord--(the air is keen.).-- +'Twill cover all. So while you still retain +Your dignities, you baulk these deadly aims + + +NELSON + +Thank 'ee, good friend. But no,--I haven't time, +I do assure you--not a trice to spare, +As you well will see. + + [A few minutes later SCOTT falls dead, a bullet having pierced + his skull. Immediately after a shot passes between the Admiral + and the Captain, tearing the instep of Hardy's shoe, and striking + away the buckle. They shake off the dust and splinters it has + scattered over them. NELSON glances round, and perceives what + has happened to his secretary.] + + +NELSON + +Poor Scott, too, carried off! Warm work this, Hardy; +Too warm to go on long. + + +HARDY + + I think so, too; +Their lower ports are blocked against our hull, +And our charge now is less. Each knock so near +Sets their old wood on fire. + + +NELSON + + Ay, rotten as peat. +What's that? I think she has struck, or pretty nigh! + + [A cracking of musketry.] + + +HARDY + +Not yet.--Those small-arm men there, in her tops, +Thin our crew fearfully. Now, too, our guns +Have dipped full down, or they would rake +The "Temeraire" there on the other side. + + +NELSON + +True.--While you deal good measure out to these, +Keep slapping at those giants over here-- +The "Trinidad," I mean, and the "Bucentaure," +To win'ard--swelling up so pompously. + + +HARDY + +I'll see no slackness shall be shown that way. + + [They part and go in their respective directions. Gunners, naked + to the waist and reeking with sweat, are now in swift action on + the several decks, and firemen carry buckets of water hither and + thither. The killed and wounded thicken around, and are being + lifted and examined by the surgeons. NELSON and HARDY meet again.] + + +NELSON + +Bid still the firemen bring more bucketfuls, +And dash the water into each new hole +Our guns have gouged in the "Redoubtable," +Or we shall all be set ablaze together. + + +HARDY + +Let me once more advise, entreat, my lord, +That you do not expose yourself so clearly. +Those fellows in the mizzen-top up there +Are peppering round you quite perceptibly. + + +NELSON + +Now, Hardy, don't offend me. They can't aim; +They only set their own rent sails on fire.-- +But if they could, I would not hide a button +To save ten lives like mine. I have no cause +To prize it, I assure 'ee.--Ah, look there, +One of the women hit,--and badly, too. +Poor wench! Let some one shift her quickly down. + + +HARDY + +My lord, each humblest sojourner on the seas, +Dock-labourer, lame longshore-man, bowed bargee, +Sees it as policy to shield his life +For those dependent on him. Much more, then, +Should one upon whose priceless presence here +Such issues hang, so many strivers lean, +Use average circumspection at an hour +So critical for us all. + + +NELSON + + Ay, ay. Yes, yes; +I know your meaning, Hardy,; and I know +That you disguise as frigid policy +What really is your honest love of me. +But, faith, I have had my day. My work's nigh done; +I serve all interests best by chancing it +Here with the commonest.--Ah, their heavy guns +Are silenced every one! Thank God for that. + + +HARDY + +'Tis so. They only use their small arms now. + + [He goes to larboard to see what is progressing on that side + between his ship and the "Santisima Trinidad."] + + +OFFICER (to seaman) + +Swab down these stairs. The mess of blood about +Makes 'em so slippery that one's like to fall +In carrying the wounded men below. + + [While CAPTAIN HARDY is still a little way off, LORD NELSON turns + to walk aft, when a ball from one of the muskets in the mizzen- + top of the "Redoubtable" enters his left shoulder. He falls upon + his face on the deck. HARDY looks round, and sees what has + happened.] + + +HARDY (hastily) + +Ah--what I feared, and strove to hide I feared! . . . + + [He goes towards NELSON, who in the meantime has been lifted by + SERGEANT-MAJOR SECKER and two seamen.] + + +NELSON + +Hardy, I think they've done for me at last! + + +HARDY + +I hope not! + + +NELSON + + Yes. My backbone is shot through. +I have not long to live. + + [The men proceed to carry him below.] + + Those tiller ropes +They've torn away, get instantly repaired! + + [At sight of him borne along wounded there is great agitation + among the crew.] + +Cover my face. There will be no good be done +By drawing their attention off to me. +Bear me along, good fellows; I am but one +Among the many darkened here to-day! + + [He is carried on to the cockpit over the crowd of dead and + wounded.] + +Doctor, I'm gone. I am waste o' time to you. + + +HARDY (remaining behind) + +Hills, go to Collingwood and let him know +That we've no Admiral here. + + [He passes on.] + + +A LIEUTENANT + +Now quick and pick him off who did the deed-- +That white-bloused man there in the mizzen-top. + + +POLLARD, a midshipman (shooting) + +No sooner said than done. A pretty aim! + + [The Frenchman falls dead upon the poop. + + The spectacle seems now to become enveloped in smoke, and the + point of view changes.] + + + +SCENE III + +THE SAME. ON BOARD THE "BUCENTAURE" + + [The bowsprit of the French Admiral's ship is stuck fast in the + stern-gallery of the "Santisima Trinidad," the starboard side of + the "Bucentaure" being shattered by shots from two English three- + deckers which are pounding her on that hand. The poop is also + reduced to ruin by two other English ships that are attacking + her from behind. + + On the quarter-deck are ADMIRAL VILLENEUVE, the FLAG-CAPTAIN + MAGENDIE, LIEUTENANTS DAUDIGNON, FOURNIER, and others, anxiously + occupied. The whole crew is in desperate action of battle and + stumbling among the dead and dying, who have fallen too rapidly + to be carried below.] + + +VILLENEUVE + +We shall be crushed if matters go on thus.-- +Direct the "Trinidad" to let her drive, +That this foul tangle may be loosened clear! + + +DAUDIGNON + +It has been tried, sir; but she cannot move. + + +VILLENEUVE + +Then signal to the "Hero" that she strive +Once more to drop this way. + +MAGENDIE + + We may make signs, +But in the thickened air what signal's marked?-- +'Tis done, however. + + +VILLENEUVE + + The "Redoubtable" +And "Victory" there,--they grip in dying throes! +Something's amiss on board the English ship. +Surely the Admiral's fallen? + + +A PETTY OFFICER + + Sir, they say +That he was shot some hour, or half, ago.-- +With dandyism raised to godlike pitch +He stalked the deck in all his jewellery, +And so was hit. + + +MAGENDIE + + Then Fortune shows her face! +We have scotched England in dispatching him. (He watches.) +Yes! He commands no more; and Lucas, joying, +Has taken steps to board. Look, spars are laid, +And his best men are mounting at his heels. + + +VILLENEUVE + +Ah, God--he is too late! Whence came the hurl +Of heavy grape? The smoke prevents my seeing +But at brief whiles.--The boarding band has fallen, +Fallen almost to a man.--'Twas well assayed! + + +MAGENDIE + +That's from their "Temeraire," whose vicious broadside +Has cleared poor Lucas' decks. + + +VILLENEUVE + + And Lucas, too. +I see him no more there. His red planks show +Three hundred dead if one. Now for ourselves! + + [Four of the English three-deckers have gradually closed round + the "Bucentaure," whose bowsprit still sticks fast in the gallery + of the "Santisima Trinidad." A broadside comes from one of the + English, resulting in worse havoc on the "Bucentaure." The main + and mizzen masts of the latter fall, and the boats are beaten to + pieces. A raking fire of musketry follows from the attacking + ships, to which the "Bucentaure" heroically continues still to + keep up a reply. + + CAPTAIN MAGENDIE falls wounded. His place is taken by LIEUTENANT + DAUDIGNON.] + + +VILLENEUVE + +Now that the fume has lessened, code my biddance +Upon our only mast, and tell the van +At once to wear, and come into the fire. +(Aside) If it be true that, as HE sneers, success +Demands of me but cool audacity, +To-day shall leave him nothing to desire! + + [Musketry continues. DAUDIGNON falls. He is removed, his post + being taken by LIEUTENANT FOURNIER. Another crash comes, and + the deck is suddenly encumbered with rigging.] + + +FOURNIER + +There goes our foremast! How for signalling now? + + +VILLENEUVE + +To try that longer, Fournier, is in vain +Upon this haggard, scorched, and ravaged hulk, +Her decks all reeking with such gory shows, +Her starboard side in rents, her stern nigh gone! +How does she keep afloat?-- +"Bucentaure," O lucky good old ship! +My part in you is played. Ay--I must go; +I must tempt Fate elsewhere,--if but a boat +Can bear me through this wreckage to the van. + + +FOURNIER + +Our boats are stove in, or as full of holes +As the cook's skimmer, from their cursed balls! + + [Musketry. VILLENEUVE'S Head-of-Staff, DE PRIGNY, falls wounded, + and many additional men. VILLENEUVE glances troublously from + ship to ship of his fleet.] + + +VILLENEUVE + +How hideous are the waves, so pure this dawn!-- +Red-frothed; and friends and foes all mixed therein.-- +Can we in some way hail the "Trinidad" +And get a boat from her? + + [They attempt to distract the attention of the "Santisima + Trinidad" by shouting.] + + Impossible; +Amid the loud combustion of this strife +As well try holloing to the antipodes! . . . +So here I am. The bliss of Nelson's end +Will not be mine; his full refulgent eve +Becomes my midnight! Well; the fleets shall see +That I can yield my cause with dignity. + + [The "Bucentaure" strikes her flag. A boat then puts off from the + English ship "Conqueror," and VILLENEUVE, having surrendered his + sword, is taken out from the "Bucentaure." But being unable to + regain her own ship, the boat is picked up by the "Mars," and + the French admiral is received aboard her. Point of view changes.] + + + +SCENE IV + +THE SAME. THE COCKPIT OF THE "VICTORY" + + [A din of trampling and dragging overhead, which is accompanied + by a continuos ground-bass roar from the guns of the warring + fleets, culminating at times in loud concussions. The wounded + are lying around in rows for treatment, some groaning, some + silently dying, some dead. The gloomy atmosphere of the low- + beamed deck is pervaded by a thick haze of smoke, powdered wood, + and other dust, and is heavy with the fumes of gunpowder and + candle-grease, the odour of drugs and cordials, and the smell + from abdominal wounds. + + NELSON, his face now pinched and wan with suffering, is lying + undressed in a midshipman's berth, dimly lit by a lantern. DR. + BEATTY, DR. MAGRATH, the Rev. DR. SCOTT the Chaplain, BURKE the + Purser, the Steward, and a few others stand around.] + + +MAGRATH (in a low voice) + +Poor Ram, and poor Tom Whipple, have just gone.. + + +BEATTY + +There was no hope for them. + +NELSON (brokenly) + + Who have just died? + + +BEATTY + +Two who were badly hit by now, my lord; +Lieutenant Ram and Mr. Whipple. + + +NELSON + + Ah! +So many lives--in such a glorious cause. . . . +I join them soon, soon, soon!--O where is Hardy? +Will nobody bring Hardy to me--none? +He must be killed, too. Surely Hardy's dead? + + +A MIDSHIPMAN + +He's coming soon, my lord. The constant call +On his full heed of this most mortal fight +Keeps him from hastening hither as he would. + + +NELSON + +I'll wait, I'll wait. I should have thought of it. + + [Presently HARDY comes down. NELSON and he grasp hands.] + +Hardy, how goes the day with us and England? + + +HARDY + +Well; very well, thank God for't, my dear lord. +Villeneuve their Admiral has this moment struck, +And put himself aboard the "Conqueror." +Some fourteen of their first-rates, or about, +Thus far we've got. The said "Bucentaure" chief: +The "Santa Ana," the "Redoubtable," +The "Fougueux," the "Santisima Trinidad," +"San Augustino, "San Francisco," "Aigle"; +And our old "Swiftsure," too, we've grappled back, +To every seaman's joy. But now their van +Has tacked to bear round on the "Victory" +And crush her by sheer weight of wood and brass: +Three of our best I am therefore calling up, +And make no doubt of worsting theirs, and France. + + +NELSON + +That's well. I swore for twenty.--But it's well. + + +HARDY + +We'll have 'em yet! But without you, my lord, +We have to make slow plodding do the deeds +That sprung by inspiration ere you fell; +And on this ship the more particularly. + + +NELSON + +No, Hardy.--Ever 'twas your settled fault +So modestly to whittle down your worth. +But I saw stuff in you which admirals need +When, taking thought, I chose the "Victory's" keel +To do my business with these braggarts in. +A business finished now, for me!--Good friend, +Slow shades are creeping me. . . I scarce see you. + + +HARDY + +The smoke from ships upon our win'ard side, +And the dust raised by their worm-eaten hulks, +When our balls touch 'em, blind the eyes, in truth. + + +NELSON + +No; it is not that dust; 'tis dust of death +That darkens me. + + [A shock overhead. HARDY goes up. On or two other officers go up, + and by and by return.] + + What was that extra noise? + + +OFFICER + +The "Formidable' passed us by, my lord, +And thumped a stunning broadside into us.-- +But, on their side, the "Hero's" captain's fallen; +The "Algeciras" has been boarded, too, +By Captain Tyler, and the captain shot: +Admiral Gravina desperately holds out; +They say he's lost an arm. + + +NELSON + + And we, ourselves-- +Who have we lost on board here? Nay, but tell me! + + +BEATTY + +Besides poor Scott, my lord, and Charles Adair, +Lieutenant Ram, and Whipple, captain's clerk, +There's Smith, and Palmer, midshipmen, just killed. +And fifty odd of seamen and marines. + + +NELSON + +Poor youngsters! Scarred old Nelson joins you soon. + + +BEATTY + +And wounded: Bligh, lieutenant; Pasco, too, +and Reeves, and Peake, lieutenants of marines, +And Rivers, Westphall, Bulkeley, midshipmen, +With, of the crew, a hundred odd just now, +Unreckoning those late fallen not brought below. + + +BURKE + +That fellow in the mizzen-top, my lord, +Who made it his affair to wing you thus, +We took good care to settle; and he fell +Like an old rook, smack from his perch, stone dead. + + +NELSON + +'Twas not worth while!--He was, no doubt, a man +Who in simplicity and sheer good faith +Strove but to serve his country. Rest be to him! +And may his wife, his friends, his little ones, +If such be had, be tided through their loss, +And soothed amid the sorrow brought by me. + + [HARDY re-enters.] + +Who's that? Ah--here you come! How, Hardy, now? + + +HARDY + +The Spanish Admiral's rumoured to be wounded, +We know not with what truth. But, be as 'twill, +He sheers away with all he could call round, +And some few frigates, straight to Cadiz port. + + [A violent explosion is heard above the confused noises on deck. + A midshipman goes above and returns.] + + +MIDSHIPMAN (in the background) + +It is the enemy's first-rate, the "Achille," +Blown to a thousand atoms!--While on fire, +Before she burst, the captain's woman there, +Desperate for life, climbed from the gunroom port +Upon the rudder-chains; stripped herself stark, +And swam for the Pickle's boat. Our men in charge, +Seeing her great breasts bulging on the brine, +Sang out, "A mermaid 'tis, by God!"--then rowed +And hauled her in.-- + + +BURKE + + Such unbid sights obtrude +On death's dyed stage! + + +MIDSHIPMAN + + Meantime the "Achille" fought on, +Even while the ship was blazing, knowing well +The fire must reach their powder; which it did. +The spot is covered now with floating men, +Some whole, the main in parts; arms, legs, trunks, heads, +Bobbing with tons of timber on the waves, +And splinter looped with entrails of the crew. + + +NELSON (rousing) + +Our course will be to anchor. Let me know. + + +HARDY + +But let me ask, my lord, as needs I must, +Seeing your state, and that our work's not done, +Shall I, from you, bid Admiral Collingwood +Take full on him the conduct of affairs? + + +NELSON (trying to raise himself) + +Not while I live, I hope! No, Hardy; no. +Give Collingwood my order. Anchor all! + + +HARDY (hesitating) + +You mean the signal's to be made forthwith? + + +NELSON + +I do!--By God, if but our carpenter +Could rig me up a jury-backbone now, +To last one hour--until the battle's done, +I'd see to it! But here I am--stove in-- +Broken--all logged and done for! Done, ay done! + + +BEATTY (returning from the other wounded) + +My lord, I must implore you to lie calm! +You shorten what at best may not be long. + + +NELSON (exhausted) + +I know, I know, good Beatty! Thank you well +Hardy, I was impatient. Now I am still. +Sit here a moment, if you have time to spare? + + [BEATTY and others retire, and the two abide in silence, except + for the trampling overhead and the moans from adjoining berths. + NELSON is apparently in less pain, seeming to doze.] + + +NELSON (suddenly) + +What are you thinking, that you speak no word? + + +HARDY (waking from a short reverie) + +Thoughts all confused, my lord:--their needs on deck, +Your own sad state, and your unrivalled past; +Mixed up with flashes of old things afar-- +Old childish things at home, down Wessex way. +In the snug village under Blackdon Hill +Where I was born. The tumbling stream, the garden, +The placid look of the grey dial there, +Marking unconsciously this bloody hour, +And the red apples on my father's trees, +Just now full ripe. + + +NELSON + + Ay, thus do little things +Steal into my mind, too. But ah, my heart +Knows not your calm philosophy!--There's one-- +Come nearer to me, Hardy.--One of all, +As you well guess, pervades my memory now; +She, and my daughter--I speak freely to you. +'Twas good I made that codicil this morning +That you and Blackwood witnessed. Now she rests +Safe on the nation's honour. . . . Let her have +My hair, and the small treasured things I owned, +And take care of her, as you care for me! + + [HARDY promises.] + + +NELSON (resuming in a murmur) + +Does love die with our frame's decease, I wonder, +Or does it live on ever? . . . + + [A silence. BEATTY approaches.] + + +HARDY + Now I'll leave, +See if your order's gone, and then return. + + +NELSON (symptoms of death beginning to change his face) + +Yes, Hardy; yes; I know it. You must go.-- +Here we shall meet no more; since Heaven forfend +That care for me should keep you idle now, +When all the ship demands you. Beatty, too. +Go to the others who lie bleeding there; +Them can you aid. Me you can render none! +My time here is the briefest.--If I live +But long enough I'll anchor. . . . But--too late-- +My anchoring's elsewhere ordered! . . . Kiss me, Hardy: + + [HARDY bends over him.] + +I'm satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty! + + [HARDY brushes his eyes with his hand, and withdraws to go above, + pausing to look back before he finally disappears.] + + +BEATTY (watching Nelson) + +Ah!--Hush around! . . . +He's sinking. It is but a trifle now +Of minutes with him. Stand you, please, aside, +And give him air. + + [BEATTY, the Chaplain, MAGRATH, the Steward, and attendants + continue to regard NELSON. BEATTY looks at his watch.] + + +BEATTY + +Two hours and fifty minutes since he fell, +And now he's going. + + [They wait. NELSON dies.] + + +CHAPLAIN + + Yes. . . . He has homed to where +There's no more sea. + + +BEATTY + + We'll let the Captain know, +Who will confer with Collingwood at once. +I must now turn to these. + + [He goes to another part of the cockpit, a midshipman ascends to + the deck, and the scene overclouds.] + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + His thread was cut too slowly! When he fell. + And bade his fame farewell, + He might have passed, and shunned his long-drawn pain, + Endured in vain, in vain! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Young Spirits, be not critical of That + Which was before, and shall be after you! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + But out of tune the Mode and meritless + That quickens sense in shapes whom, thou hast said, + Necessitation sways! A life there was + Among these self-same frail ones--Sophocles-- + Who visioned it too clearly, even while + He dubbed the Will "the gods." Truly said he, + "Such gross injustice to their own creation + Burdens the time with mournfulness for us, + And for themselves with shame."(9)--Things mechanized + By coils and pivots set to foreframed codes + Would, in a thorough-sphered melodic rule, + And governance of sweet consistency, + Be cessed no pain, whose burnings would abide + With That Which holds responsibility, + Or inexist. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Yea, yea, yea! + Thus would the Mover pay + The score each puppet owes, + The Reaper reap what his contrivance sows! + Why make Life debtor when it did not buy? + Why wound so keenly Right that it would die? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Nay, blame not! For what judgment can ye blame?-- + In that immense unweeting Mind is shown + One far above forethinking; processive, + Yet superconscious; a Clairvoyancy + That knows not what It knows, yet works therewith.-- + The cognizance ye mourn, Life's doom to feel, + If I report it meetly, came unmeant, + Emerging with blind gropes from impercipience + By listless sequence--luckless, tragic Chance, + In your more human tongue. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + And hence unneeded + In the economy of Vitality, + Which might have ever kept a sealed cognition + As doth the Will Itself. + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + Nay, nay, nay; + Your hasty judgments stay, + Until the topmost cyme + Have crowned the last entablature of Time. + O heap not blame on that in-brooding Will; + O pause, till all things all their days fulfil! + + + +SCENE V + +LONDON. THE GUILDHALL + + [A crowd of citizens has gathered outside to watch the carriages + as they drive up and deposit guests invited to the Lord Mayor's + banquet, for which event the hall is brilliantly lit within. A + cheer rises when the equipage of any popular personage arrives + at the door. + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +Well, well! Nelson is the man who ought to have been banqueted +to-night. But he is coming to Town in a coach different from these.! + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +Will they bring his poor splintered body home? + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +Yes. They say he's to be tombed in marble, at St. Paul's or +Westminster. We shall see him if he lays in state. It will +make a patriotic spectacle for a fine day. + + +BOY + +How can you see a dead man, father, after so long? + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +They'll embalm him, my boy, as they did all the great Egyptian +admirals. + + +BOY + +His lady will be handy for that, won't she? + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +Don't ye ask awkward questions. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +Here's another coming! + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +That's my Lord Chancellor Eldon. Wot he'll say, and wot he'll look! +Mr. Pitt will be here soon. + + +BOY + +I don't like Billy. He killed Uncle John's parrot. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +How may ye make that out, youngster? + + +BOY + +Mr. Pitt made the war, and the war made us want sailors; and Uncle +John went for a walk down Wapping High Street to talk to the pretty +ladies one evening; and there was a press all along the river that +night--a regular hot one--and Uncle John was carried on board a +man-of-war to fight under Nelson; and nobody minded Uncle John's +parrot, and it talked itself to death. So Mr. Pitt killed Uncle +John's parrot; see it, sir? + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +You had better have a care of this boy, friend. His brain is too +precious for the common risks of Cheapside. Not but what he might +as well have said Boney killed the parrot when he was about it. +And as for Nelson--who's now sailing shinier seas than ours, if +they've rubbed Her off his slate where he's gone to,--the French +papers say that our loss in him is greater than our gain in ships; +so that logically the victory is theirs. Gad, sir, it's almost +true! + + [A hurrahing is heard from Cheapside, and the crowd in that + direction begins to hustle and show excitement.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +He's coming, he's coming! Here, let me lift you up, my boy.-- Why, +they have taken out the horses, as I am man alive! + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +Pitt for ever!--Why, here's a blade opening and shutting his mouth +like the rest, but never a sound does he raise! + +THIRD CITIZEN + +I've not too much breath to carry me through my day's work, so I +can't afford to waste it in such luxuries as crying Hurrah to +aristocrats. If ye was ten yards off y'd think I was shouting +as loud as any. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +It's a very mean practice of ye to husband yourself at such a time, +and gape in dumbshow like a frog in Plaistow Marshes. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +No, sir; it's economy; a very necessary instinct in these days of +ghastly taxations to pay half the armies in Europe! In short, in +the word of the Ancients, it is scarcely compass-mentas to do +otherwise! Somebody must save something, or the country will be +as bankrupt as Mr. Pitt himself is, by all account; though he +don't look it just now. + + [PITT's coach passes, drawn by a troop of running men and boy. + The Prime Minister is seen within, a thin, erect, up-nosed + figure, with a flush of excitement on his usually pale face. + The vehicle reached the doorway to the Guildhall and halts with + a jolt. PITT gets out shakily, and amid cheers enters the + building.] + + +FOURTH CITIZEN + +Quite a triumphal entry. Such is power; +Now worshipped, now accursed! The overthrow +Of all Pitt's European policy +When his hired army and his chosen general +Surrendered them at Ulm a month ago, +Is now forgotten! Ay; this Trafalgar +Will botch up many a ragged old repute, +Make Nelson figure as domestic saint +No less than country's saviour, Pitt exalt +As zenith-star of England's firmament, +And uncurse all the bogglers of her weal +At this adventurous time. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Talk of Pitt being ill. He looks hearty as a buck. + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +It's the news--no more. His spirits are up like a rocket for the +moment. + + +BOY + +Is it because Trafalgar is near Portugal that he loves Port wine? + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +Ah, as I said, friend; this boy must go home and be carefully put +to bed! + + +FIRST CITIZEN + + +Well, whatever William's faults, it is a triumph for his virtues +to-night! + + [PITT having disappeared, the Guildhall doors are closed, and + the crowd slowly disperses, till in the course of an hour the + street shows itself empty and dark, only a few oil lamps burning. + + The SCENE OPENS, revealing the interior of the Guildhall, and + the brilliant assembly of City magnates, Lords, and Ministers + seated there, Mr. PITT occupying a chair of honour by the Lord + Mayor. His health has been proposed as that of the Saviour of + England, and drunk with acclamations.] + + +PITT (standing up after repeated calls) + +My lords and gentlemen:--You have toasted me +As one who has saved England and her cause. +I thank you, gentlemen, unfeignedly. +But--no man has saved England, let me say: +England has saved herself, by her exertions: +She will, I trust, save Europe by her example! + + [Loud applause, during which he sits down, rises, and sits down + again. The scene then shuts, and the night without has place.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Those words of this man Pitt--his last large words, + As I may prophesy--that ring to-night + In their first mintage to the feasters here, + Will spread with ageing, lodge, and crystallize, + And stand embedded in the English tongue + Till it grow thin, outworn, and cease to be.-- + So is't ordained by That Which all ordains; + For words were never winged with apter grace. + Or blent with happier choice of time and place, + To hold the imagination of this strenuous race. + + + +SCENE VI(10) + +AN INN AT RENNES + + [Night. A sleeping-chamber. Two candles are burning near a bed + in an alcove, and writing-materials are on the table. + + The French admiral, VILLENEUVE, partly undressed, is pacing up + and down the room.] + + +VILLENEUVE + +These hauntings have at last nigh proved to me +That this thing must be done. Illustrious foe +And teacher, Nelson: blest and over blest +In thy outgoing at the noon of strife +When glory clasped thee round; while wayward Death +Refused my coaxings for the like-timed call! +Yet I did press where thickest missiles fell, +And both by precept and example showed +Where lay the line of duty, patriotism, +And honour, in that combat of despair. + + [He see himself in the glass as he passes.] + +Unfortunate Villeneuve!--whom fate has marked +To suffer for too firm a faithfulness.-- +An Emperor's chide is a command to die.-- +By him accursed, forsaken by my friend, +Awhile stern England's prisoner, then unloosed +Like some poor dolt unworth captivity, +Time serves me now for ceasing. Why not cease? . . . +When, as Shades whisper in the chasmal night, +"Better, far better, no percipience here."-- +O happy lack, that I should have no child +To come into my hideous heritage, +And groan beneath the burden of my name!(11) + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + I'll speak. His mood is ripe for such a parle. +(Sending a voice into VILLENEUVE'S ear.) + + Thou dost divine the hour! + + +VILLENEUVE + + But those stern Nays, +That heretofore were audible to me +At each unhappy time I strove to pass? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Have been annulled. The Will grants exit freely; + Yea, It says "Now." Therefore make now thy time. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + May his sad sunken soul merge into nought + Meekly and gently as a breeze at eve! + + +VILLENEUVE + +From skies above me and the air around +Those callings which so long have circled me +At last do whisper "Now." Now it shall be! + + [He seals a letter, and addresses it to his wife; then takes a + dagger from his accoutrements that are hanging alongside, and, + lying down upon his back on the bed, stabs himself determinedly + in many places, leaving the weapon in the last wound.] + +Ungrateful master; generous foes; Farewell! + + [VILLENEUVE dies; and the scene darkens.] + + + +SCENE VII + +KING GEORGE'S WATERING-PLACE, SOUTH WESSEX + + [The interior of the "Old Rooms" Inn. Boatmen and burghers are + sitting on settles round the fire, smoking and drinking. + + +FIRST BURGHER + +So they've brought him home at last, hey? And he's to be solemnized +with a roaring funeral? + + +FIRST BOATMAN + +Yes, thank God. . . . 'Tis better to lie dry than wet, if canst do it +without stinking on the road gravewards. And they took care that he +shouldn't. + + +SECOND BOATMAN + +'Tis to be at Paul's; so they say that know. And the crew of the +"Victory" have to walk in front, and Captain Hardy is to carry his +stars and garters on a great velvet pincushion. + + +FIRST BURGHER + +Where's the Captain now? + + +SECOND BOATMAN (nodding in the direction of Captain Hardy's house) + +Down at home here biding with his own folk a bit. I zid en walking +with them on the Esplanade yesterday. He looks ten years older than +he did when he went. Ay--he brought the galliant hero home! + + +SECOND BURGHER + +Now how did they bring him home so that he could lie in state +afterwards to the naked eye! + + +FIRST BOATMAN + +Well, as they always do,--in a cask of sperrits. + + +SECOND BURGHER + +Really, now! + + +FIRST BOATMAN (lowering his voice) + +But what happened was this. They were a long time coming, owing to +contrary winds, and the "Victory" being little more than a wreck. +And grog ran short, because they'd used near all they had to peckle +his body in. So--they broached the Adm'l! + + +SECOND BURGHER + +How? + + +FIRST BOATMAN + +Well; the plain calendar of it is, that when he came to be unhooped, +it was found that the crew had drunk him dry. What was the men to +do? Broke down by the battle, and hardly able to keep afloat, 'twas +a most defendable thing, and it fairly saved their lives. So he was +their salvation after death as he had been in the fight. If he +could have knowed it, 'twould have pleased him down to the ground! +How 'a would have laughed through the spigot-hole: "Draw on, my +hearties! Better I shrivel that you famish." Ha-ha! + + +SECOND BURGHER + +It may be defendable afloat; but it seems queer ashore. + + +FIRST BOATMAN + +Well, that's as I had it from one that knows--Bob Loveday of +Overcombe--one of the "Victory" men that's going to walk in the +funeral. However, let's touch a livelier string. Peter Green, +strike up that new ballet that they've lately had prented here, +and were hawking about town last market-day. + + + +SONG + +THE NIGHT OF TRAFALGAR + + +I + +In the wild October night-time, when the wind raved round the land, +And the Back-sea(12) met the Front-sea, and our doors were blocked + with sand, +And we heard the drub of Dead-man's Bay, where bones of thousands are, +We knew not what the day had done for us at Trafalgar. + (All) Had done, + Had done, + For us at Trafalgar! + + +II + +"Pull hard, and make the Nothe, or down we go!" one says, says he. +We pulled; and bedtime brought the storm; but snug at home slept we. +Yet all the while our gallants after fighting through the day, +Were beating up and down the dark, sou'-west of Cadiz Bay. + The dark, + The dark, + Sou'-west of Cadiz Bay! + + +III + +The victors and the vanquished then the storm it tossed and tore, +As hard they strove, those worn-out men, upon that surly shore; +Dead Nelson and his half-dead crew, his foes from near and far, +Were rolled together on the deep that night at Trafalgar! + The deep, + The deep, + That night at Trafalgar! + + [The Cloud-curtain draws.] + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS + + Meanwhile the month moves on to counter-deeds + Vast as the vainest needs, + And fiercely the predestined plot proceeds. + + + + +ACT SIXTH + + +SCENE I + +THE FIELD OF AUSTERLITZ. THE FRENCH POSITION + + [The night is the 1st of December following, and the eve of the + battle. The view is from the elevated position of the Emperor's + bivouac. The air cuts keen and the sky glistens with stars, but + the lower levels are covered with a white fog stretching like a + sea, from which the heights protrude as dusky rocks. + + To the left are discernible high and wooded hills. In the front + mid-distance the plateau of Pratzen outstands, declining suddenly + on the right to a low flat country covered with marshes and pools + now mostly obscured. On the plateau itself are seen innumerable + and varying lights, marking the bivouac of the centre divisions + of the Austro-Russian army. Close to the foreground the fires of + the French are burning, surrounded by soldiery. The invisible + presence of the countless thousand of massed humanity that compose + the two armies makes itself felt indefinably. + + The tent of NAPOLEON rises nearest at hand, with sentinel and + other military figures looming around, and saddled horses held + by attendants. The accents of the Emperor are audible, through + the canvas from inside, dictating a proclamation.] + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +"Soldiers, the hordes of Muscovy now face you, +To mend the Austrian overthrow at Ulm! +But how so? Are not these the self-same bands +You met and swept aside at Hollabrunn, +And whose retreating forms, dismayed to flight, +Your feet pursued along the trackways here? + +"Our own position, massed and menacing, +Is rich in chance for opportune attack; +For, say they march to cross and turn our right-- +A course almost at their need--their stretching flank +Will offer us, from points now prearranged---" + + +VOICE OF A MARSHAL + +Shows it, your Majesty, the wariness +That marks your usual far-eye policy, +To openly announce your tactics thus +Some twelve hours ere their form can actualize? + + +THE VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +The zest such knowledge will impart to all +Is worth the risk of leakages. (To Secretary) +Write on. + +(Dictation resumed) + +"Soldiers, your sections I myself shall lead; +But ease your minds who would expostulate +Against my undue rashness. If your zeal +Sow hot confusion in the hostile files +As your old manner is, and in our rush +We mingle with our foes, I'll use fit care. +Nevertheless, should issues stand at pause +But for a wink-while, that time you will eye +Your Emperor the foremost in the shock, +Taking his risk with every ranksman here. +For victory, men, must be no thing surmised, +As that which may or may not beam on us, +Like noontide sunshine on a dubious morn; +It must be sure!--The honour and the fame +Of France's gay and gallant infantry-- +So dear, so cherished all the Empire through-- +Binds us to compass it! + Maintain the ranks; +Let none be thinned by impulse or excuse +Of bearing back the wounded: and, in fine, +Be every one in this conviction firm:-- +That 'tis our sacred bond to overthrow +These hirelings of a country not their own: +Yea, England's hirelings, they!--a realm stiff-steeled +In deathless hatred of our land and lives. + +"The campaign closes with this victory; +And we return to find our standards joined +By vast young armies forming now in France. +Forthwith resistless, Peace establish we, +Worthy of you, the nation, and of me!" + "NAPOLEON." + (To his Marshals) + +So shall we prostrate these paid slaves of hers-- +England's, I mean--the root of all the war. + + +VOICE OF MURAT + +The further details sent of Trafalgar +Are not assuring. + + +VOICE OF LANNES + + What may the details be? + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON (moodily) + +We learn that six-and-twenty ships of war, +During the fight and after, struck their flags, +And that the tigerish gale throughout the night +Gave fearful finish to the English rage. +By luck their Nelson's gone, but gone withal +Are twenty thousand prisoners, taken off +To gnaw their finger-nails in British hulks. +Of our vast squadrons of the summer-time +But rags and splintered remnants now remain.-- +Thuswise Villeneuve, poor craven, quitted him! +And England puffed to yet more bombastry. +--Well, well; I can't be everywhere. No matter; +A victory's brewing here as counterpoise! +These water-rats may paddle in their salt slush, +And welcome. 'Tis not long they'll have the lead. +Ships can be wrecked by land! + + +ANOTHER VOICE + + And how by land, +Your Majesty, if one may query such? + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON (sardonically) + +I'll bid all states of Europe shut their ports +To England's arrogant bottoms, slowly starve +Her bloated revenues and monstrous trade, +Till all her hulls lie sodden in their docks, +And her grey island eyes in vain shall seek +One jack of hers upon the ocean plains! + + +VOICE OF SOULT + +A few more master-strokes, your Majesty, +Must be dealt hereabout to compass such! + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +God, yes!--Even here Pitt's guineas are the foes: +'Tis all a duel 'twixt this Pitt and me; +And, more than Russia's host, and Austria's flower, +I everywhere to-night around me feel +As from an unseen monster haunting nigh +His country's hostile breath!--But come: to choke it +By our to-morrow's feats, which now, in brief, +I recapitulate.--First Soult will move +To forward the grand project of the day: +Namely: ascend in echelon, right to front, +With Vandamme's men, and those of Saint Hilaire: +Legrand's division somewhere further back-- +Nearly whereat I place my finger here-- +To be there reinforced by tirailleurs: +Lannes to the left here, on the Olmutz road, +Supported by Murat's whole cavalry. +While in reserve, here, are the grenadiers +Of Oudinot, the corps of Bernadotte, +Rivaud, Drouet, and the Imperial Guard. + + +MARSHAL'S VOICES + +Even as we understood, Sire, and have ordered. +Nought lags but day, to light our victory! + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +Now let us up and ride the bivouacs round, +And note positions ere the soldiers sleep. +--Omit not from to-morrow's home dispatch +Direction that this blow of Trafalgar +Be hushed in all the news-sheets sold in France, +Or, if reported, let it be portrayed +As a rash fight whereout we came not worst, +But were so broken by the boisterous eve +That England claims to be the conqueror. + + [There emerge from the tent NAPOLEON and the marshals, who all + mount the horses that are led up, and proceed through the frost + and time towards the bivouacs. At the Emperor's approach to the + nearest soldiery they spring up.] + + +SOLDIERS + +The Emperor! He's here! The Emperor's here! + + +AN OLD GRENADIER (approaching Napoleon familiarly) + +We'll bring thee Russian guns and flags galore. +To celebrate thy coronation-day! + + [They gather into wisps the straw, hay, and other litter on which + they have been lying, and kindling these at the dying fires, wave + them as torches. This is repeated as each fire is reached, till + the whole French position is one wide illumination. The most + enthusiastic of the soldiers follow the Emperor in a throng as + he progresses, and his whereabouts in the vast field is denoted + by their cries.] + + +CHORUS OF PITIES (aerial music) + + Strange suasive pull of personality! + + +CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS + + His projects they unknow, his grin unsee! + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES + + Their luckless hearts say blindly--He! + + [The night-shades close over.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE SAME. THE RUSSIAN POSITION + + [Midnight at the quarters of FIELD-MARSHAL PRINCE KUTUZOF at + Kresnowitz. An inner apartment is discovered, roughly adapted + as a council-room. On a table with candles is unfolded a large + map of Austerlitz and its environs. + + The Generals are assembled in consultation round the table, + WEIROTHER pointing to the map, LANGERON, BUXHOVDEN, and + MILORADOVICH standing by, DOKHTOROF bending over the map, + PRSCHEBISZEWSKY(13) indifferently walking up and down. KUTUZOF, + old and weary, with a scarred face and only one eye, is seated + in a chair at the head of the table, nodding, waking, and + nodding again. Some officers of lower grade are in the + background, and horses in waiting are heard hoofing and champing + outside. + + WEIROTHER speaks, referring to memoranda, snuffing the nearest + candle, and moving it from place to place on the map as he + proceeds importantly.] + + +WEIROTHER + +Now here, our right, along the Olmutz Road +Will march and oust our counterfacers there, +Dislodge them from the Sainton Hill, and thence +Advance direct to Brunn.--You heed me, sirs?-- +The cavalry will occupy the plain: +Our centre and main strength,--you follow me?-- +Count Langeron, Dokhtorof, with Prschebiszewsky +And Kollowrath--now on the Pratzen heights-- +Will down and cross the Goldbach rivulet, +Seize Tilnitz, Kobelnitz, and hamlets nigh, +Turn the French right, move onward in their rear, +Cross Schwarsa, hold the great Vienna road:-- +So, with the nightfall, centre, right, and left, +Will rendezvous beneath the walls of Brunn. + + +LANGERON (taking a pinch of snuff) + +Good, General; very good!--if Bonaparte +Will kindly stand and let you have your way. +But what if he do not!--if he forestall +These sound slow movements, mount the Pratzen hills +When we descend, fall on OUR rear forthwith, +While we go crying for HIS rear in vain? + + +KUTUZOF (waking up) + +Ay, ay, Weirother; that's the question--eh? + + +WEIROTHER (impatiently) + +If Bonaparte had meant to climb up there, +Being one so spry and so determinate, +He would have set about it ere this eve! +He has not troops to do so, sirs, I say: +His utmost strength is forty thousand men. + + +LANGERON + +Then if so weak, how can so wise a brain +Court ruin by abiding calmly here +The impact of a force so large as ours? +He may be mounting up this very hour! +What think you, General Miloradovich? + + +MILORADOVICH + +I? What's the use of thinking, when to-morrow +Will tell us, with no need to think at all! + + +WEIROTHER + +Pah! At this moment he retires apace. +His fires are dark; all sounds have ceased that way +Save voice of owl or mongrel wintering there. +But, were he nigh, these movements I detail +Would knock the bottom from his enterprize. + + +KUTUZOF (rising) + +Well, well. Now this being ordered, set it going. +One here shall make fair copies of the notes, +And send them round. Colonel van Toll I ask +To translate part.--Generals, it grows full late, +And half-a-dozen hours of needed sleep +Will aid us more than maps. We now disperse, +And luck attend us all. Good-night. Good-night. + + [The Generals and other officers go out severally.] + +Such plans are--paper! Only to-morrow's light +Reveals the true manoeuvre to my sight! + + [He flaps out with his hand all the candles but one or two, + slowly walks outside the house, and listens. On the high + ground in the direction of the French lines are heard shouts, + and a wide illumination grows and strengthens; but the hollows + are still mantled in fog.] + +Are these the signs of regiments out of heart, +And beating backward from an enemy! + + + [He remains pondering. On the Pratzen heights immediately in front + there begins a movement among the Russians, signifying that the plan + which involves desertion of that vantage-ground is about to be put + in force. Noises of drunken singing arise from the Russian lines at + various points elsewhere. + + The night shades involve the whole.] + + + +SCENE III + +THE SAME. THE FRENCH POSITION + + [Shortly before dawn on the morning of the 2nd of December. A + white frost and fog still prevail in the low-lying areas; but + overhead the sky is clear. A dead silence reigns. + + NAPOLEON, on a grey horse, closely attended by BERTHIER, and + surrounded by MARSHALS SOULT, LANNES, MURAT, and their aides-de + camp, all cloaked, is discernible in the gloom riding down + from the high ground before Bellowitz, on which they have + bivouacked, to the village of Puntowitz on the Goldbach stream, + quite near the front of the Russian position of the day before + on the Pratzen crest. The Emperor and his companions come to + a pause, look around and upward to the hills, and listen.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Their bivouac fires, that lit the top last night, +Are all extinct. + + +LANNES + + And hark you, Sire; I catch +A sound which, if I err not, means the thing +We have hoped, and hoping, feared fate would not yield! + + +NAPOLEON + +My God, it surely is the tramp of horse +And jolt of cannon downward from the hill +Toward our right here, by the swampy lakes +That face Davout? Thus, as I sketched, they work! + + +MURAT + +Yes! They already move upon Tilnitz. + + +NAPOLEON + +Leave them alone! Nor stick nor stone we'll stir +To interrupt them. Nought that we can scheme +Will help us like their own stark sightlessness!-- +Let them get down to those white lowlands there, +And so far plunge in the level that no skill, +When sudden vision flashes on their fault, +Can help them, though despair-stung, to regain +The key to mastery held at yestereve! + +Meantime move onward these divisions here +Under the fog's kind shroud; descend the slope, +And cross the stream below the Russian lines: +There halt concealed, till I send down the word. + + [NAPOLEON and his staff retire to the hill south-east of Bellowitz + and the day dawns pallidly.] + +'Tis good to get above that rimy cloak +And into cleaner air. It chilled me through. + + [When they reach the summit they are over the fog: and suddenly + the sun breaks forth to the left of Pratzen, illuminating the + ash-hued face of NAPOLEON and the faces of those around him. + All eyes are turned first to the sun, and thence to look for + the dense masses of men that had occupied the upland the night + before.] + +MURAT + +I see them not. The plateau seems deserted! + + +NAPOLEON + +Gone; verily!--Ah, how much will you bid, +An hour hence, for the coign abandoned now! +The battle's ours.--It was, then, their rash march +Downwards to Tilnitz and the Goldbach swamps +Before dawn, that we heard.--No hurry, Lannes! +Enjoy this sun, that rests its chubby jowl +Upon the plain, and thrusts its bristling beard +Across the lowlands' fleecy counterpane, +Peering beneath our broadest hat-brims' shade. . . . +Soult, how long hence to win the Pratzen top? + + +SOULT + +Some twenty minutes or less, your Majesty: +Our troops down there, still mantled by the mist, +Are half upon the way. + + +NAPOLEON + + Good! Set forthwith +Vandamme and Saint Hilaire to mount the slopes--- + + [Firing begins in the marsh to the right by Tilnitz and the pools, + though the thick air yet hides the operations.] + +O, there you are, blind boozy Buxhovden! +Achieve your worst. Davout will hold you firm. + + [The head of and aide-de-camp rises through the fog on that + side, and he hastens up to NAPOLEON and his companions, to whom + the officer announces what has happened. DAVOUT rides off, + disappearing legs first into the white stratum that covers the + attack.] + +Lannes and Murat, you have concern enough +Here on the left, with Prince Bagration +And all the Austro-Russian cavalry. +Haste off. The victory promising to-day +Will, like a thunder-clap, conclude the war! + + [The Marshals with their aides gallop away towards their respective + divisions. Soon the two divisions under SOULT are seen ascending + in close column the inclines of the Pratzen height. Thereupon the + heads of the Russian centre columns disclose themselves, breaking + the sky-line of the summit from the other side, in a desperate + attempt to regain the position vacated by the Russian left. A + fierce struggle develops there between SOULT'S divisions and these, + who, despite their tardy attempt to recover the lost post of + dominance, are pressed by the French off the slopes into the + lowland.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + O Great Necessitator, heed us now! + If it indeed must be + That this day Austria smoke with slaughtery, + Quicken the issue as Thou knowest how; + And dull their lodgment in a flesh that galls! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + If it be in the future human story + To lift this man to yet intenser glory, + Let the exploit be done + With the least sting, or none, + To those, his kind, at whose expense such pitch is won! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Again ye deprecate the World-Soul's way + That I so long have told? Then note anew + (Since ye forget) the ordered potencies, + Nerves, sinews, trajects, eddies, ducts of It + The Eternal Urger, pressing change on change. + + [At once, as earlier, a preternatural clearness possesses the + atmosphere of the battle-field, in which the scene becomes + anatomized and the living masses of humanity transparent. The + controlling Immanent Will appears therein, as a brain-like + network of currents and ejections, twitching, interpenetrating, + entangling, and thrusting hither and thither the human forms.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + O Innocents, can ye forget + That things to be were shaped and set + Ere mortals and this planet met? + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Stand ye apostrophizing That + Which, working all, works but thereat + Like some sublime fermenting-vat. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Heaving throughout its vast content + With strenuously transmutive bent + Though of its aim insentient?-- + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Could ye have seen Its early deeds + Ye would not cry, as one who pleads + For quarter, when a Europe bleeds! + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Ere ye, young Pities, had upgrown + From out the deeps where mortals moan + Against a ruling not their own, + + +SEMICHORUS II + + He of the Years beheld, and we, + Creation's prentice artistry + Express in forms that now unbe + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Tentative dreams from day to day; + Mangle its types, re-knead the clay + In some more palpitating way; + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Beheld the rarest wrecked amain, + Whole nigh-perfected species slain + By those that scarce could boast a brain; + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Saw ravage, growth, diminish, add, + Here peoples sane, there peoples mad, + In choiceless throws of good and bad; + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Heard laughters at the ruthless dooms + Which tortured to the eternal glooms + Quick, quivering hearts in hecatombs. + + +CHORUS + + Us Ancients, then, it ill befits + To quake when Slaughter's spectre flits + Athwart this field of Austerlitz! + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + Pain not their young compassions by such lore, + But hold you mute, and read the battle yonder: + The moment marks the day's catastrophe. + + + +SCENE IV + +THE SAME. THE RUSSIAN POSITION + + [It is about noon, and the vital spectacle is now near the village + of Tilnitz. The fog has dispersed, and the sun shines clearly, + though without warmth, the ice on the pools gleaming under its + radiance. + + GENERAL BUXHOVDEN and his aides-de-camp have reined up, and remain + at pause on a hillock. The General watches through a glass his + battalions, which are still disputing the village. Suddenly + approach down the track from the upland of Pratzen large companies + of Russian infantry helter-skelter. COUNT LANGERON is beheld to + be retreating with them; and soon, pale and agitated, he hastens + up to GENERAL BUXHOVDEN, whose face is flushed.] + + +LANGERON + +While they are upon us you stay idle here! +Prschebiszewsky's column is distraught and rent, +And more than half my own made captive! Yea, +Kreznowitz carried, and Sokolnitz hemmed: +The enemy's whole strength will stound you soon! + + +BUXHOVDEN + +You seem to see the enemy everywhere. + + +LANGERON + +You cannot see them, be they here or no! + + +BUXHOVDEN + +I only wait Prschebiszewsky's nearing corps +To join Dokhtorof's to them. Here they come. + + [SOULT, supported by BERNADOTTE and OUDINOT, having cleared and + secured the Pratzen height, his battalions are perceived descending + from it on this side, behind DOKHTOROF'S division, so placing the + latter between themselves and the pools.] + + +LANGERON + +You cannot tell the Frenchmen from ourselves! +These are the victors.--Ah--Dokhtorof--lost! + + [DOKHTOROF'S troops are seen to be retreating towards the water. + The watchers stand in painful tenseness.] + + +BUXHOVDEN + +Dokhtorof tell to save him as he may! +We, Count, must gather up our shaken flesh +And hurry them by the road through Austerlitz. + + [BUXHOVDEN'S regiments and the remains of LANGERON'S are rallied + and collected, and they retreat by way of the hamlet of Aujezd. + As they go over the summit of a hill BUXHOVDEN looks back. + LANGERON'S columns, which were behind his own, have been cut + off by VANDAMME'S division coming down from the Pratzen plateau. + This and some detachments from DOKHTOROF'S column rush towards + the Satschan lake and endeavour to cross it on the ice. It + cracks beneath their weight. At the same moment NAPOLEON and + his brilliant staff appear on the top of the Pratzen. + + The Emperor watches the scene with a vulpine smile; and directs + a battery near at hand to fire down upon the ice on which the + Russians are crossing. A ghastly crash and splashing follows + the discharge, the shining surface breaking into pieces like a + mirror, which fly in all directions. Two thousand fugitives are + engulfed, and their groans of despair reach the ears of the + watchers like ironical huzzas. + + A general flight of the Russian army from wing to wing is now + disclosed, involving in its current the EMPEROR ALEXANDER and + the EMPEROR FRANCIS, with the reserve, who are seen towards + Austerlitz endeavouring to rally their troops in vain. They + are swept along by the disordered soldiery.] + + + +SCENE V + +THE SAME. NEAR THE WINDMILL OF PALENY + + [The mill is about seven miles to the southward, between French + advanced posts and the Austrians. + + A bivouac fire is burning. NAPOLEON, in grey overcoat and + beaver hat turned up front to back, rides to the spot with + BERTHIER, SAVARY, and his aides, and alights. He walks to + and fro complacently, meditating or talking to BERTHIER. Two + groups of officers, one from each army, stand in the background + on their respective sides.] + + +NAPOLEON + +What's this of Alexander? Weep, did he, +Like his old namesake, but for meaner cause? +Ha, ha! + + +BERTHIER + +Word goes, you Majesty, that Colonel Toll, +One of Field-Marshal Price Kutuzof's staff, +In the retreating swirl of overthrow, +Found Alexander seated on a stone, +Beneath a leafless roadside apple-tree, +Out here by Goding on the Holitsch way; +His coal-black uniform and snowy plume +Unmarked, his face disconsolate, his grey eyes +Mourning in tears the fate of his brave array-- +All flying southward, save the steadfast slain. + + +NAPOLEON + +Poor devil!--But he'll soon get over it-- +Sooner than his employers oversea!-- +Ha!--this well make friend Pitt and England writhe, +And cloud somewhat their lustrous Trafalgar. + + [An open carriage approaches from the direction of Holitsch, + accompanied by a small escort of Hungarian guards. NAPOLEON + walks forward to meet it as it draws up, and welcomes the + Austrian Emperor, who alights. He is wearing a grey cloak + over a white uniform, carries a light walking-cane, and is + attended by PRINCE JOHN OF LICHTENSTEIN, SWARZENBERG, and + others. His fresh-coloured face contrasts strangely with the + bluish pallor of NAPOLEON'S; but it is now thin and anxious. + + They formally embrace. BERTHIER, PRINCE JOHN, and the rest + retire, and the two Emperors are left by themselves before the + fire.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Here on the roofless ground do I receive you-- +My only mansion for these two months past! + + +FRANCIS + +Your tenancy thereof has brought such fame +That it must needs be one which charms you, Sire. + + +NAPOLEON + +Good! Now this war. It has been forced on me +Just at a crisis most inopportune, +When all my energies and arms were bent +On teaching England that her watery walls +Are no defence against the wrath of France +Aroused by breach of solemn covenants. + + +FRANCIS + +I had no zeal for violating peace +Till ominous events in Italy +Revealed the gloomy truth that France aspires +To conquest there, and undue sovereignty. +Since when mine eyes have seen no sign outheld +To signify a change of purposings. + + +NAPOLEON + +Yet there were terms distinctly specified +To General Giulay in November past, +Whereon I'd gladly fling the sword aside. +To wit: that hot armigerent jealousy +Stir us no further on transalpine rule, +I'd take the Isonzo River as our bounds. + + +FRANCIS + +Roundly, that I cede all!--And how may stand +Your views as to the Russian forces here? + + +NAPOLEON + +You have all to lose by that alliance, Sire. +Leave Russia. Let the Emperor Alexander +Make his own terms; whereof the first must be +That he retire from Austrian territory. +I'll grant an armistice therefor. Anon +I'll treat with him to weld a lasting peace, +Based on some simple undertakings; chief, +That Russian armies keep to the ports of his domain. +Meanwhile to you I'll tender this good word: +Keep Austria to herself. To Russia bound, +You pay your own costs with your provinces, +Alexander's likewise therewithal. + + +FRANCIS + +I see as much, and long have seen it, Sire; +And standing here the vanquished, let me own +What happier issues might have left unsaid: +Long, long I have lost the wish to bind myself +To Russia's purposings and Russia's risks; +Little do I count these alliances +With Powers that have no substance seizable! + + [As they converse they walk away.] + + +AN AUSTRIAN OFFICER + +O strangest scene of an eventful life, +This junction that I witness here to-day! +An Emperor--in whose majestic veins +Aeneas and the proud Caesarian line +Claim yet to live; and, those scarce less renowned, +The dauntless Hawks'-Hold Counts, of gallantry +So great in fame one thousand years ago-- +To bend with deference and manners mild +In talk with this adventuring campaigner, +Raised but by pikes above the common herd! + + +ANOTHER AUSTRIAN OFFICER + +Ay! There be Satschan swamps and Pratzen heights +In royal lines, as here at Austerlitz. + + [The Emperors again draw near.] + + +FRANCIS + +Then, to this armistice, which shall be called +Immediately at all points, I agree; +And pledge my word that my august ally +Accept it likewise, and withdraw his force +By daily measured march to his own realm. + + +NAPOLEON + +For him I take your word. And pray believe +That rank ambitions are your own, not mine; +That though I have postured as your enemy, +And likewise Alexander's, we are one +In interests, have in all things common cause. + +One country sows these mischiefs Europe through +By her insidious chink of luring ore-- +False-featured England, who, to aggrandize +Her name, her influence, and her revenues, +Schemes to impropriate the whole world's trade, +And starves and bleeds the folk of other lands. +Her rock-rimmed situation walls her off +Like a slim selfish mollusk in its shell +From the wide views and fair fraternities +Which on the mainland we reciprocate, +And quicks her quest for profit in our woes! + + +FRANCIS + +I am not competent, your Majesty, +To estimate that country's conscience now, +Nor engage on my ally's behalf +That English ships be shut from Russian trade. +But joyful am I that in all things else +My promise can be made; and that this day +Our conference ends in friendship and esteem. + + +NAPOLEON + +I will send Savary at to-morrow's blink +And make all lucid to the Emperor. +For us, I wholly can avow as mine +The cordial spirit of your Majesty. + + [They retire towards the carriage of FRANCIS. BERTHIER, SAVARY, + LICHTENSTEIN, and the suite of officers advance from the background, + and with mutual gestures of courtesy and amicable leave-takings + the two Emperors part company.] + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + Each for himself, his family, his heirs; + For the wan weltering nations who concerns, who cares? + + +CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS + + A pertinent query, in truth!-- + But spoil not the sport by your ruth: + 'Tis enough to make half + Yonder zodiac laugh + When rulers begin to allude + To their lack of ambition, + And strong opposition + To all but the general good! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Hush levities. Events press: turn ye westward. + + [A nebulous curtain draws slowly across.] + + + +SCENE VI + +SHOCKERWICK HOUSE, NEAR BATH + + [The interior of the Picture Gallery. Enter WILTSHIRE, the owner, + and Pitt, who looks emaciated and walks feebly.] + + +WILTSHIRE (pointing to a portrait) + +Now here you have the lady we discussed: +A fine example of his manner, sir? + + +PITT + +It is a fine example, sir, indeed,-- +With that transparency amid the shades, +And those thin blue-green-grayish leafages +Behind the pillar in the background there, +Which seem the leaves themselves.--Ah, this is Quin. + + [Moving to another picture.] + + +WILTSHIRE + +Yes, Quin. A man of varied parts, though rough +And choleric at times. Yet, at his best, +As Falstaff, never matched, they say. But I +Had not the fate to see him in the flesh. + + +PITT + +Churchill well carves him in his "Character":-- +"His eyes, in gloomy socket taught to roll, +Proclaimed the sullen habit of his soul. +In fancied scenes, as in Life's real plan, +He could not for a moment sink the man: +Nature, in spite of all his skill, crept in; +Horatio, Dorax, Falstaff--stile 'twas Quin." +--He was at Bath when Gainsborough settled there +In that house in the Circus which we know.-- +I like the portrait much.--The brilliancy +Of Gainsborough lies in this his double sway: +Sovereign of landscape he; of portraiture +Joint monarch with Sir Joshua. . . . Ah?--that's--hark! +Is that the patter of horses's hoofs +Along the road? + + +WILTSHIRE + + I notice nothing, sir. + + +PITT + +It is a gallop, growing quite distinct. +And--can it be a messenger for me! + + +WILTSHIRE + +I hope no ugly European news +To stop the honour of this visit, sir! + + [They listen. The gallop of the horse grows louder, and is + checked at the door of the house. There is a hasty knocking, + and a courier, splashed with mud from hard riding, is shown + into the gallery. He presents a dispatch to PITT, who sits + down and hurriedly opens it.] + + +PITT (to himself) + +O heavy news indeed! . . . Disastrous; dire! + + [He appears overcome as he sits, and covers his forehead with + his hand.] + + +WILTSHIRE + +I trust you are not ill, sir? + + +PITT (after some moments) + + Could I have +A little brandy, sir, quick brought to me? + + +WILTSHIRE + +In one brief minute. + + [Brandy is brought in, and PITT takes it.] + + +PITT + +Now leave me, please, alone. I'll call anon. +Is there a map of Europe handy here? + + [WILTSHIRE fetches a map from the library, and spreads it before + the minister. WILTSHIRE, courier, and servant go out.] + +O God that I should live to see this day! + + [He remains awhile in a profound reverie; then resumes the reading + of the dispatch.] + +"Defeated--the Allies--quite overthrown +At Austerlitz--last week."--Where's Austerlitz? +--But what avails it where the place is now; +What corpse is curious on the longitude +And situation of his cemetery! . . . +The Austrians and the Russians overcome, +That vast adventuring army is set free +To bend unhindered strength against our strand. . . . +So do my plans through all these plodding years +Announce them built in vain! +His heel on Europe, monarchies in chains +To France, I am as though I had never been! + + [He gloomily ponders the dispatch and the map some minutes longer. + At last he rises with difficulty, and rings the bell. A servant + enters.] + +Call up my carriage, please you, now at once; +And tell your master I return to Bath +This moment--I may want a little help +In getting to the door here. + + +SERVANT + + Sir, I will, +And summon you my master instantly. + + [He goes out and re-enters with WILTSHIRE. PITT is assisted from + the room.] + + +PITT + +Roll up that map. 'Twill not be needed now +These ten years! Realms, laws, peoples, dynasties, +Are churning to a pulp within the maw +Of empire-making Lust and personal Gain! + + [Exeunt PITT, WILTSHIRE, and the servant; and in a few minutes the + carriage is heard driving off, and the scene closes.] + + + +SCENE VII + +PARIS. A STREET LEADING TO THE TUILERIES + + [It is night, and the dim oil lamps reveal a vast concourse of + citizens of both sexes around the Palace gates and in the + neighbouring thoroughfares.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS (to the Spirit of Rumour) + + Thou may'st descend and join this crowd awhile, + And speak what things shall come into they mouth. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +I'll harken! I wouldn't miss it for the groans on another +Austerlitz! + + [The Spirit of Rumour enters on the scene in the disguise of a + young foreigner.] + + +SPIRIT (to a street-woman) + + Lady, a late hour this to be afoot! + + +WOMAN + +Poor profit, then, to me from my true trade, +Wherein hot competition is so rife +Already, since these victories brought to town +So many foreign jobbers in my line, +That I'd best hold my tongue from praise of fame! +However, one is caught by popular zeal, +And though five midnights have not brought a sou, +I, too, chant _Jubilate_ like the rest.-- + +In courtesies have haughty monarchs vied +Towards the Conqueror! who, with men-at-arms +One quarter theirs, has vanquished by his nerve +Vast mustering four-hundred-thousand strong, +And given new tactics to the art of war +Unparalleled in Europe's history! + + +SPIRIT + + What man is this, whose might thou blazonest so-- + Who makes the earth to tremble, shakes old thrones, + And turns the plains to wilderness? + + +WOMAN + + Dost ask +As ignorant, yet asking can define? +What mean you, traveller? + + +SPIRIT + + I am a stranger here, + A wandering wight, whose life has not been spent + This side the globe, though I can speak the tongue. + + +WOMAN + +Your air has truth in't; but your state is strange! +Had I a husband he should tackle thee. + + +SPIRIT + + Dozens thou hast had--batches more than she + Samaria knew, if now thou hast not one! + + +WOMAN + +Wilt take the situation from this hour? + + +SPIRIT + + Thou know'st not what thy frailty asks, good dame! + + +WOMAN + +Well, learn in small the Emperor's chronicle, +As gleaned from what my soldier-husbands say:-- +some five-and-forty standards of his foes +Are brought to Paris, borne triumphantly +In proud procession through the surging streets, +Ever as brands of fame to shine aloft +In dim-lit senate-halls and city aisles. + + +SPIRIT + + Fair Munich sparkled with festivity + As there awhile he tarried, and was met + By the gay Josephine your Empress here.-- + There, too, Eugene-- + + +WOMAN + + Napoleon's stepson he--- + + +SPIRIT + + Received for gift the hand of fair Princess + Augusta (daughter of Bavaria's crown, + Forced from her plighted troth to Baden's heir), + And, to complete his honouring, was hailed + Successor to the throne of Italy. + + +WOMAN + +How know you, ere this news has got abroad? + + +SPIRIT + + Channels have I the common people lack.-- + There, on the nonce, the forenamed Baden prince + Was joined to Stephanie Beauharnais, her + Who stands as daughter to the man we wait, + Some say as more. + + +WOMAN + They do? Then such not I. +Can revolution's dregs so soil thy soul +That thou shouldst doubt the eldest son thereof? +'Tis dangerous to insinuate nowadays! + + +SPIRIT + + Right! Lady many-spoused, more charity + Upbrims in thee than in some loftier ones + Who would not name thee with their white-washed tongues.-- + Enough. I am one whom, didst thou know my name, + Thou would'st not grudge a claim to speak his mind. + + +WOMAN + +A thousand pardons, sir. + + +SPIRIT + + Resume thy tale + If so thou wishest. + + +WOMAN + + Nay, but you know best--- + + +SPIRIT + + How laurelled progress through applauding crowds + Have marked his journey home. How Strasburg town, + Stuttgart, Carlsruhe, acclaimed him like the rest: + How pageantry would here have welcomed him, + Had not his speed outstript intelligence + --Now will a glimpse of him repay thee. Hark! + + [Shouts arise and increase in the distance, announcing BONAPARTE'S + approach.] + + Well, Buonaparte has revived by land, + But not by sea. On that thwart element + Never will he incorporate his dream, + And float as master! + + +WOMAN + + What shall hinder him? + + +SPIRIT + + That which has hereto. England, so to say. + + +WOMAN + +But she's in straits. She lost her Nelson now, +(A worthy man: he loved a woman well!) +George drools and babbles in a darkened room; +Her heaven-born Minister declines apace; +All smooths the Emperor's sway. + + +SPIRIT + + Tales have two sides, + Sweet lady. Vamped-up versions reach thee here.-- + That Austerlitz was lustrous none ignores, + But would it shock thy garrulousness to know + That the true measure of this Trafalgar-- + Utter defeat, ay, France's naval death-- + Your Emperor bade be hid? + + +WOMAN + + The seer's gift +Has never plenteously endowed me, sir, +As in appearance you. But to plain sense +Thing's seem as stated. + + +SPIRIT + + We'll let seemings be.-- + But know, these English take to liquid life + Right patly--nursed therefor in infancy + By rimes and rains which creep into their blood, + Till like seeks like. The sea is their dry land, + And, as on cobbles you, they wayfare there. + + +WOMAN + +Heaven prosper, then, their watery wayfarings +If they'll leave us the land!--(The Imperial carriage appears.) + The Emperor!-- +Long live the Emperor!--He's the best by land. + + [BONAPARTE'S carriage arrives, without an escort. The street + lamps shine in, and reveal the EMPRESS JOSEPHINE seated beside + him. The plaudits of the people grow boisterous as they hail + him Victor of Austerlitz. The more active run after the carriage, + which turns in from the Rue St. Honore to the Carrousel, and + thence vanishes into the Court of the Tuileries.] + + +WOMAN + +May all success attend his next exploit! + + +SPIRIT + + Namely: to put the knife in England's trade, + And teach her treaty-manners--if he can! + + +WOMAN + +I like not your queer knowledge, creepy man. +There's weirdness in your air. I'd call you ghost +Had not the Goddess Reason laid all such +Past Mother Church's cunning to restore. +--Adieu. I'll not be yours to-night. I'd starve first! + + [She withdraws. The crowd wastes away, and the Spirit vanishes.] + + + +SCENE VIII + +PUTNEY. BOWLING GREEN HOUSE + + [PITT'S bedchamber, from the landing without. It is afternoon. + At the back of the room as seen through the doorway is a curtained + bed, beside which a woman sits, the LADY HESTER STANHOPE. Bending + over a table at the front of the room is SIR WALTER FARQUHAR, the + physician. PARSLOW the footman and another servant are near the + door. TOMLINE, the Bishop of Lincoln, enters.] + + +FARQUHAR (in a subdued voice) + +I grieve to call your lordship up again, +But symptoms lately have disclosed themselves +That mean the knell to the frail life in him. +And whatsoever thing of gravity +It may be needful to communicate, +Let them be spoken now. Time may not serve +If they be much delayed. + + +TOMLINE + + Ah, stands it this? . . . +The name of his disease is--Austerlitz! +His brow's inscription has been Austerlitz +From that dire morning in the month just past +When tongues of rumour twanged the word across +From its hid nook on the Moravian plains. + + +FARQUHAR + +And yet he might have borne it, had the weight +Of governmental shackles been unclasped, +Even partly, from his limbs last Lammastide, +When that despairing journey to the King +At Gloucester Lodge by Wessex shore was made +To beg such. But relief the King refused. +"Why want you Fox? What--Grenville and his friends?" +He harped. "You are sufficient without these-- +Rather than Fox, why, give me civil war!" +And fibre that would rather snap than shrink +Held out no longer. Now the upshot nears. + + [LADY HESTER STANHOPE turns her head and comes forward.] + + +LADY HESTER + +I am grateful you are here again, good friend! +He's sleeping some light seconds; but once more +Has asked for tidings of Lord Harrowby, +And murmured of his mission to Berlin +As Europe's haggard hope; if, sure, it be +That any hope remain! + + +TOMLINE + + There's no news yet.-- +These several days while I have been sitting by him +He has inquired the quarter of the wind, +And where that moment beaked the stable-cock. +When I said "East," he answered "That is well! +Those are the breezes that will speed him home!" +So cling his heart-strings to his country's cause. + + +FARQUHAR + +I fear that Wellesley's visit here by now +Strung him to tensest strain. He quite broke down, +And has fast faded since. + + +LADY HESTER + + Ah! now he wakes. +Please come and speak to him as you would wish (to TOMLINE). + + [LADY HESTER, TOMLINE,and FARQUHAR retire behind the bed, where + in a short time voices are heard in prayer. Afterwards the + Bishop goes to a writing-table, and LADY HESTER comes to the + doorway. Steps are heard on the stairs, and PITT'S friend ROSE, + the President of the Board of Trade, appears on the landing and + makes inquiries.] + + +LADY HESTER (whispering) + +He wills the wardenry of his affairs +To his old friend the Bishop. But his words +Bespeak too much anxiety for me, +And underrate his services so far +That he has doubts if his high deeds deserve +Such size of recognition by the State +As would award slim pensions to his kin. +He had been fain to write down his intents, +But the quill dropped from his unmuscled hand.-- +Now his friend Tomline pens what he dictates +And gleans the lippings of his last desires. + + [ROSE and LADY HESTER turn. They see the Bishop bending over + the bed with a sheet of paper on which he has previously been + writing. A little later he dips a quill and holds it within + the bed-curtain, spreading the paper beneath. A thin white + hand emerges from behind the curtain and signs the paper. The + Bishop beckons forward the two servants, who also sign. + + FARQUHAR on one side of the bed, and TOMLINE on the other, are + spoken to by the dying man. The Bishop afterwards withdraws + from the bed and comes to the landing where the others are.] + + +TOMLINE + +A list of his directions has been drawn, +And feeling somewhat more at mental ease +He asks Sir Walter if he has long to live. +Farquhar just answered, in a soothing tone, +That hope still frailly breathed recovery. +At this my dear friend smiled and shook his head, +As if to say: "I can translate your words, +But I reproach not friendship's lullabies." + + +ROSE + +Rest he required; and rest was not for him. + + [FARQUHAR comes forward as they wait.] + + +FARQUHAR + +His spell of concentration on these things, +Determined now, that long have wasted him, +Have left him in a numbing lethargy, +From which I fear he may not rouse to strength +For speech with earth again. + + +ROSE + + But hark. He does. + + [The listen.] + + +PITT + +My country! How I leave my country! . . . + + +TOMLINE + + Ah,-- +Immense the matter those poor words contain! + + +ROSE + +Still does his soul stay wrestling with that theme, +And still it will, even semi-consciously, +Until the drama's done. + + [They continue to converse by the doorway in whispers. PITT + sinks slowly into a stupor, from which he never awakens.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES (to Spirit of the Years) + + Do you intend to speak to him ere the close? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Nay, I have spoke too often! Time and time, + When all Earth's light has lain on the nether side, + And yapping midnight winds have leapt on the roofs, + And raised for him an evil harlequinade + Of national disasters in long train, + That tortured him with harrowing grimace, + Now I would leave him to pass out in peace, + And seek the silence unperturbedly. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + Even ITS official Spirit can show ruth + At man's fag end, when his destruction's sure! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + It suits us ill to cavil each with each. + I might retort. I only say to thee + ITS slaves we are: ITS slaves must ever be! + + +CHORUS (aerial music) + + Yea, from the Void we fetch, like these, + And tarry till That please + To null us by Whose stress we emanate.-- + Our incorporeal sense, + Our overseeings, our supernal state, + Our readings Why and Whence, + Are but the flower of Man's intelligence; + And that but an unreckoned incident + Of the all-urging Will, raptly magnipotent. + + [A gauze of shadow overdraws.] + + + + + + +PART SECOND + + + +CHARACTERS + + +I. PHANTOM INTELLIGENCES + + + THE ANCIENT SPIRIT OF THE YEARS/CHORUS OF THE YEARS. + + THE SPIRIT OF THE PITIES/CHORUS OF THE PITIES. + + SPIRITS SINISTER AND IRONIC/CHORUSES OF SINISTER AND IRONIC SPIRITS. + + THE SPIRIT OF RUMOUR/CHORUS OF RUMOURS. + + THE SHADE OF THE EARTH. + + SPIRIT-MESSENGERS. + + RECORDING ANGELS. + + +II. PERSONS (The names in lower case are mute figures.) + + +MEN + + GEORGE THE THIRD. + THE PRINCE OF WALES, afterwards PRINCE REGENT. + The Royal Dukes. + FOX. + PERCEVAL. + CASTLEREAGH. + AN UNDER-SECRETARY OF STATE. + SHERIDAN. + TWO YOUNG LORDS. + Lords Yarmouth and Keith. + ANOTHER LORD. + Other Peers, Ambassadors, Ministers, ex-Ministers, Members of + Parliament, and Persons of Quality and Office. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + Sir Arthur Wellesley, afterwards Lord Wellington. + SIR JOHN MOORE. + SIR JOHN HOPE. + Sir David Baird. + General Beresford. + COLONEL ANDERSON. + COLONEL GRAHAM. + MAJOR COLBORNE, principal Aide-de-Camp to MOORE. + CAPTAIN HARDINGE. + Paget, Fraser, Hill, Napier. + A CAPTAIN OF HUSSARS AND OTHERS. + Other English Generals, Colonels, Aides, Couriers, and Military + Officers. + TWO SPIES. + TWO ARMY SURGEONS. + AN ARMY CHAPLAIN. + A SERGEANT OF THE FORTY-THIRD. + TWO SOLDIERS OF THE NINTH. + English Forces. + DESERTERS AND STRAGGLERS. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + DR. WILLIS. + SIR HENRY HALFORD. + DR. HEBERDEN. + DR. BAILLIE. + THE KING'S APOTHECARY. + A GENTLEMAN. + TWO ATTENDANTS ON THE KING. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + MEMBERS OF A LONDON CLUB. + AN ENGLISHMAN IN VIENNA. + TROTTER, SECRETARY TO FOX. + MR. BAGOT. + MR. FORTH, MASTER OF CEREMONIES. + SERVANTS. + A Beau, A Constable, etc. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + Joseph Bonaparte. + Louis and Jerome Bonaparte, and other Members of Napoleon's Family. + CAMBACERES, ARCH-CHANCELLOR. + TALLEYRAND. + PRESIDENT OF THE SENATE. + Caulaincourt. + Lebrun, Duroc, Prince of Neufchatel, Grand-Duke of Berg. + Eugene de Beauharnais. + CHAMPAGNY, FOREIGN MINISTER + DE BAUSSET, CHAMBERLAIN. + MURAT. + SOULT. + MASSENA. + BERTHIER. + JUNOT. + FOY. + LOISON. + Ney, Lannes, and other French Marshals, general and regimental + Officers, Aides, and Couriers. + TWO FRENCH SUBALTERNS. + ANOTHER FRENCH OFFICER. + French Forces. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + Grand Marshal, Grand Almoners, Heralds, and other Officials at + Napoleon's marriage. + ABBE DE PRADT, CHAPEL-MASTER. + Corvisart, First Physician to Marie Louis. + BOURDIER, SECOND PHYSICIAN to Marie Louise. + DUBOIS, ACCOUCHEUR to Marie Louise. + Maskers at a Ball. + TWO SERVANTS AT THE TUILERIES. + A PARISIAN CROWD. + GUILLET DE GEVRILLIERE, A CONSPIRATOR. + Louis XVIII. of France. + French Princes in England. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE KING OF PRUSSIA. + Prince Henry of Prussia. + Prince Royal of Bavaria. + PRINCE HOHENLOHE. + Generals Ruchel, Tauenzien, and Attendant Officers. + Prussian Forces. + PRUSSIAN STRAGGLERS. + BERLIN CITIZENS. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + CARLOS IV., KING OF SPAIN. + FERNANDO, PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, Son to the King. + GODOY, "PRINCE OF PEACE," Lover of the Queen. + COUNT OF MONTIJO. + VISCOUNT MATEROSA, Spanish Deputy. + DON DIEGO DE LA VEGA, Spanish Deputy. + Godoy's Guards and other Soldiery. + SPANISH CITIZENS. + A SERVANT TO GODOY. + Spanish Forces. + Camp-Followers. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + FRANCIS, EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA. + METTERNICH. + ANOTHER AUSTRIAN MINISTER. + SCHWARZENBERG. + D'AUDENARDE, AN EQUERRY. + AUSTRIAN OFFICERS. + AIDES-DE-CAMP. + Austrian Forces. + Couriers and Secretaries. + VIENNESE CITIZENS. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER. + The Grand-Duke Constantine. + Prince Labanoff. + Count Lieven. + Generals Bennigsen, Ouwaroff, and others. + Officers in attendance on Alexander. + + +WOMEN + + CAROLINE, PRINCESS OF WALES. + DUCHESS OF YORK. + DUCHESS OF RUTLAND. + MARCHIONESS OF SALISBURY. + MARCHIONESS OF HERTFORD. + Other Peeresses. + MRS. FITZHERBERT. + Ambassadors' Wives, Wives of Minister and Members of Parliament, + and other Ladies of Note. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. + HORTENSE, QUEEN OF HOLLAND. + The Mother of Napoleon. + Princess Pauline, and others of Napoleon's Family. + DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO. + MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU. + MADAME BLAISE, NURSE TO MARIE LOUIS. + Wives of French Ministers, and of other Officials. + Other Ladies of the French Court. + DUCHESS OF ANGOULEME. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + LOUISA, QUEEN OF PRUSSIA. + The Countess Voss, Lady-in-Waiting. + BERLIN LADIES. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + MARIA LUISA, QUEEN OF SPAIN. + THEREZA OF BOURBON, WIFE OF GODOY. + DONA JOSEFA TUDO, MISTRESS OF GODOY. + Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen. + A Servant. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + M. LOUISA BEATRIX, EMPRESS OF AUSTRIA. + THE ARCHDUCHESS MARIE LOUISA, afterwards the EMPRESS MARIE LOUISE. + MADAME METTERNICH. + LADIES OF THE AUSTRIAN COURT. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE EMPRESS-MOTHER OF RUSSIA. + GRAND-DUCHESS ANNE OF RUSSIA. + + + + +ACT FIRST + + +SCENE I + +LONDON. FOX'S LODGINGS, ARLINGTON STREET + + [FOX, the Foreign Secretary in the new Ministry of All-the-Talents, + sits at a table writing. He is a stout, swarthy man, with shaggy + eyebrows, and his breathing is somewhat obstructed. His clothes + look as though they had been slept in. TROTTER, his private + secretary, is writing at another table near. A servant enters.] + + +SERVANT + +Another stranger presses to see you, sir. + + +FOX (without raising his eyes) + +Oh, another. What's he like? + + +SERVANT + +A foreigner, sir; though not so out-at-elbows as might be thought +from the denomination. He says he's from Gravesend, having lately +left Paris, and that you sent him a passport. He comes with a +police-officer. + + +FOX + +Ah, to be sure. I remember. Bring him in, and tell the officer +to wait outside. (Servant goes out.) Trotter, will you leave us +for a few minutes? But be within hail. + + [The secretary retires, and the servant shows in a man who calls + himself GUILLET DE GEVRILLIERE--a tall, thin figure of thirty, + with restless eyes. The door being shut behind him, he is left + alone with the minister. FOX points to a seat, leans back, and + surveys his visitor.] + + +GEVRILLIERE + +Thanks to you, sir, for this high privilege +Of hailing England, and of entering here. +Without a fore-extended confidence +Like this of yours, my plans would not have sped. (A Pause.) +Europe, alas! sir, has her waiting foot +Upon the sill of further slaughter-scenes! + + +FOX + +I fear it is so!--In your lines you wrote, +I think, that you are a true Frenchman born? + + +GEVRILLIERE + +I did, sir. + +FOX + + How contrived you, then, to cross? + + +GEVRILLIERE + +It was from Embden that I shipped for Gravesend, +In a small sailer called the "Toby," sir, +Masked under Prussian colours. Embden I reached +On foot, on horseback, and by sundry shifts, +From Paris over Holland, secretly. + + +FOX + +And you are stored with tidings of much pith, +Whose tenour would be priceless to the state? + + +GEVRILLIERE + +I am. It is, in brief, no more nor less +Than means to mitigate and even end +These welfare-wasting wars; ay, usher in +A painless spell of peace. + + +FOX + + Prithee speak on. +No statesman can desire it more than I. + + +GEVRILLIERE (looking to see that the door is shut) + +No nation, sir, can live its natural life, +Or think its thoughts in these days unassailed, +No crown-capt head enjoy tranquillity. +The fount of such high spring-tide of disorder, +Fevered disquietude, and forceful death, +Is One,--a single man. He--need I name?-- +The ruler is of France. + + +FOX + + Well, in the past +I fear that it has liked so. But we see +Good reason still to hope that broadening views, +Politer wisdom now is helping him +To saner guidance of his arrogant car. + + +GEVRILLIERE + +The generous hope will never be fulfilled! +Ceasing to bluff, then ceases he to be. +None sees that written largelier than himself. + + +FOX + +Then what may be the valued revelation +That you can unlock in such circumstance? +Sir, I incline to spell you as a spy, +And not the honest help for honest men +You gave you out to be! + +GEVRILLIERE + + I beg, sir, +To spare me that suspicion. Never a thought +Could be more groundless. Solemnly I vow +That notwithstanding what his signals show +The Emperor of France is as I say.-- +Yet bring I good assurance, and declare +A medicine for all bruised Europe's sores! + + +FOX (impatiently) + +Well, parley to the point, for I confess +No new negotiation do I note +That you can open up to work such cure. + + +GEVRILLIERE + +The sovereign remedy for an ill effect +Is the extinction of its evil cause. +Safely and surely how to compass this +I have the weighty honour to disclose, +Certain immunities being guaranteed +By those your power can influence, and yourself. + + +FOX (astonished) + +Assassination? + + +GEVRILLIERE + + I care not for names! +A deed's true name is as its purpose is. +The lexicon of Liberty and Peace +Defines not this deed as assassination; +Though maybe it is writ so in the tongue +Of courts and universal tyranny. + +FOX + +Why brought you this proposal here to me? + + +GEVRILLIERE + +My knowledge of your love of things humane, +Things free, things fair, of truth, of tolerance, +Right, justice, national felicity, +Prompted belief and hope in such a man!-- +The matter is by now well forwarded, +A house at Plassy hired as pivot-point +From which the sanct intention can be worked, +And soon made certain. To our good allies +No risk attaches; merely to ourselves. + + +FOX (touching a private bell) + +Sir, your unconscienced hardihood confounds me. +And your mind's measure of my character +Insults it sorely. By your late-sent lines +Of specious import, by your bland address, +I have been led to prattle hopefully +With a cut-throat confessed! + + [The head constable and the secretary enter at the same moment.] + + Ere worse befall, +Sir, up and get you gone most dexterously! +Conduct this man: lose never sight of him (to the officer) +Till haled aboard some anchor-weighing craft +Bound to remotest coasts from us and France. + + +GEVRILLIERE (unmoved) + +How you may handle me concerns me little. +The project will as roundly ripe itself +Without as with me. Trusty souls remain, +Though my far bones bleach white on austral shores!-- +I thank you for the audience. Long ere this +I might have reft your life! Ay, notice here-- + + (He produces a dagger; which is snatched from him.) + +They need not have done that! Even had you risen +To wrestle with, insult, strike, pinion me, +It would have lain unused. In hands like mine +And my allies', the man of peace is safe, +Treat as he may our corporal tenement +In his misreading of a moral code. + + [Exeunt GEVRILLIERE and the constable.] + + +FOX + +Trotter, indeed you well may stare at me! +I look warm, eh?--and I am windless, too; +I have sufficient reason to be so. +That dignified and pensive gentleman +Was a bold bravo, waiting for his chance. +He sketched a scheme for murdering Bonaparte, +Either--as in my haste I understood-- +By shooting from a window as he passed, +Or by some other wry and stealthy means +That haunt sad brains which brood on despotism, +But lack the tools to justly cope therewith! . . . +On later thoughts I feel not fully sure +If, in my ferment, I did right in this. +No; hail at once the man in charge of him, +And give the word that he is to be detained. + + [The secretary goes out. FOX walks to the window in deep + reflection till the secretary returns.] + + +SECRETARY + +I was in time, sir. He has been detained. + + +FOX + +Now what does strict state-honour ask of me?-- +No less than that I bare this poppling plot +To the French ruler and our fiercest foe!-- +Maybe 'twas but a hoax to pocket pay; +And yet it can mean more . . . +The man's indifference to his own vague doom +Beamed out as one exalted trait in him, +And showed the altitude of his rash dream!-- +Well, now I'll get me on to Downing Street, +There to draw up a note to Talleyrand +Retailing him the facts.--What signature +Subscribed this desperate fellow when he wrote? + + +SECRETARY + +"Guillet de la Gevrilliere." Here it stands. + + +FOX + +Doubtless it was a false one. Come along. (Looking out the window.) +Ah--here's Sir Francis Vincent: he'll go with us. +Ugh, what a twinge! Time signals that he draws +Towards the twelfth stroke of my working-day! +I fear old England soon must voice her speech +With Europe through another mouth than mine! + + +SECRETARY + +I trust not, sir. Though you should rest awhile. +The very servants half are invalid +From the unceasing labours of your post, +And these cloaked visitors of every clime +That market on your magnanimity +To gain an audience morning, night, and noon, +Leaving you no respite. + + +FOX + + 'Tis true; 'tis true.-- +How I shall love my summer holiday +At pleasant Saint-Ann's Hill! + + [He leans on the secretary's arm, and they go out.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE ROUTE BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS + + [A view now nocturnal, now diurnal, from on high over the Straits + of Dover, and stretching from city to city. By night Paris and + London seem each as a little swarm of lights surrounded by a halo; + by day as a confused glitter of white and grey. The Channel + between them is as a mirror reflecting the sky, brightly or + faintly, as the hour may be.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + What mean these couriers shooting shuttlewise + To Paris and to London, turn and turn? + + +RUMOURS (chanting in antiphons) + +I + +The aforesaid tidings fro the minister, spokesman in England's + cause to states afar, + + +II + +Traverse the waters borne by one of such; and thereto Bonaparte's + responses are: + +I + +"The principles of honour and of truth which ever actuate the + sender's mind + + +II + +"Herein are written largely! Take our thanks: we read that + this conjuncture undesigned + + +I + +"Unfolds felicitous means of showing you that still our eyes + are set, as yours, on peace, + + +II + +"To which great end the Treaty of Amiens must be the ground- + work of our amities." + + +I + +From London then: "The path to amity the King of England + studies to pursue; + + +II + +"With Russia hand in hand he is yours to close the long + convulsions thrilling Europe through." + + +I + +Still fare the shadowy missioners across, by Dover-road and + Calais Channel-track, + + +II + +From Thames-side towers to Paris palace-gates; from Paris + leisurely to London back. + + +I + +Till thus speaks France: "Much grief it gives us that, being + pledged to treat, one Emperor with one King, + + +II + +"You yet have struck a jarring counternote and tone that keys + not with such promising. + + +I + +"In these last word, then, of this pregnant parle; I trust I + may persuade your Excellency + + +II + +"That in no circumstance, on no pretence, a party to our pact can + Russia be." + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +Fortunately for the manufacture of corpses by machinery Napoleon +sticks to this veto, and so wards off the awkward catastrophe of +a general peace descending upon Europe. Now England. + + +RUMOURS (continuing) + +I + +Thereon speeds down through Kent and Picardy, evenly as some + southing sky-bird's shade: + + +II + +"We gather not from your Imperial lines a reason why our words + should be reweighed. + +I + +"We hold Russia not as our ally that is to be: she stands fully- + plighted so; + + +II + +"Thus trembles peace upon this balance-point: will you that + Russia be let in or no?" + + +I + +Then France rolls out rough words across the strait: "To treat + with you confederate with the Tsar, + + +II + +"Presumes us sunk in sloughs of shamefulness from which we yet + stand gloriously afar! + + +I + +"The English army must be Flanders-fed, and entering Picardy with + pompous prance, + + +II + +"To warrant such! Enough. Our comfort is, the crime of further + strife lies not with France." + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Alas! what prayer will save the struggling lands, + Whose lives are ninepins to these bowling hands? + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS + + France secretly with--Russia plights her troth! + Britain, that lonely isle, is slurred by both. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +It is as neat as an uncovered check at chess! You may now mark +Fox's blank countenance at finding himself thus rewarded for the +good turn done to Bonaparte, and at the extraordinary conduct of +his chilly friend the Muscovite. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + His hand so trembles it can scarce retain + The quill wherewith he lets Lord Yarmouth know + Reserve is no more needed! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + +Now enters another character of this remarkable little piece--Lord +Lauderdale--and again the messengers fly! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + But what strange figure, pale and noiseless, comes, + By us perceived, unrecognized by those, + Into the very closet and retreat + Of England's Minister? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + The Tipstaff he + Of the Will, the Many-masked, my good friend Death.-- + The statesman's feeble form you may perceive + Now hustled into the Invisible, + And the unfinished game of Dynasties + Left to proceed without him! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Here, then, ends + My hope for Europe's reason-wrought repose! + He was the friend of peace--did his great best + To shed her balms upon humanity; + And now he's gone! No substitute remains. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + +Ay; the remainder of the episode is frankly farcical. Negotiations +are again affected; but finally you discern Lauderdale applying for +passports; and the English Parliament declares to the nation that +peace with France cannot be made. + + +RUMOURS (concluding) + +I + +The smouldering dudgeon of the Prussian king, meanwhile, upon the + horizon's rim afar + + +II + +Bursts into running flame, that all his signs of friendliness were + met by moves for war. + + +I + +Attend and hear, for hear ye faintly may, his manifesto made at + Erfurt town, + + +II + +That to arms only dares he now confide the safety and the honour + of his crown! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Draw down the curtain, then, and overscreen + This too-protracted verbal fencing-scene; + And let us turn to clanging foot and horse, + Ordnance, and all the enginry of Force! + + [Clouds close over the perspective.] + + + +SCENE III + +THE STREETS OF BERLIN + + [It is afternoon, and the thoroughfares are crowded with citizens + in an excited and anxious mood. A central path is left open for + some expected arrival. + + There enters on horseback a fair woman, whose rich brown curls + stream flutteringly in the breeze, and whose long blue habit + flaps against the flank of her curvetting white mare. She is + the renowned LOUISA, QUEEN OF PRUSSIA, riding at the head of a + regiment of hussars and wearing their uniform. As she prances + along the thronging citizens acclaim her enthusiastically.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Who is this fragile fair, in fighting trim? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + She is the pride of Prussia, whose resolve + Gives ballast to the purpose of her spouse, + And holds him to what men call governing. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Queens have engaged in war; but war's loud trade + Rings with a roar unnatural, fitful, forced, + Practised by woman's hands! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Of her view + The enterprise is that of scores of men, + The strength but half-a-ones. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Would fate had ruled + The valour had been his, hers but the charm! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + But he has nothing on't, and she has all. + The shameless satires of the bulletins + dispatched to Paris, thence the wide world through, + Disturb the dreams of her by those who love her, + And thus her brave adventurers for the realm + Have blurred her picture, soiled her gentleness, + And wrought her credit harm. + + +FIRST CITIZEN (vociferously) + +Yes, by God: send and ultimatum to Paris, by God; that's what we'll +do, by God. The Confederation of the Rhine was the evil thought of +an evil man bent on ruining us! + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +This country double-faced and double-tongued, +This France, or rather say, indeed, this Man-- +(Peoples are honest dealers in the mass)-- +This man, to sign a stealthy scroll with Russia +That shuts us off from all indemnities, +While swearing faithful friendship with our King, +And, still professing our safe wardenry, +To fatten other kingdoms at our cost, +Insults us grossly, and makes Europe clang +With echoes of our wrongs. The little states +Of this antique and homely German land +Are severed from their blood-allies and kin-- +Hereto of one tradition, interest, hope-- +In calling lord this rank adventurer, +Who'll thrust them as a sword against ourselves.-- +Surely Great Frederick sweats within his tomb! + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Well, we awake, though we have slumbered long, +And She is sent by Heaven to kindle us. + + [The QUEEN approaches to pass back again with her suite. The + vociferous applause is repeated. They regard her as she nears.] + +To cry her Amazon, a blusterer, +A brazen comrade of the bold dragoons +Whose uniform she dons! Her, whose each act +Shows but a mettled modest woman's zeal, +Without a hazard of her dignity +Or moment's sacrifice of seemliness, +To fend off ill from home! + + +FOURTH CITIZEN (entering) + +The tidings fly that Russian Alexander +Declines with emphasis to ratify +The pact of his ambassador with France, +And that the offer made the English King +To compensate the latter at our cost +Has not been taken. + +THIRD CITIZEN + + And it never will be! +Thus evil does not always flourish, faith. +Throw down the gage while god is fair to us; +He may be foul anon! + +(A pause.) + + +FIFTH CITIZEN (entering) + +Our ambassador Lucchesini is already leaving Paris. He could stand +the Emperor no longer, so the Emperor takes his place, has decided +to order his snuff by the ounce and his candles by the pound, lest +he should not be there long enough to use more. + + [The QUEEN goes by, and they gaze at here and at the escort of + soldiers.] + +Haven't we soldiers? Haven't we the Duke of Brunswick to command +'em? Haven't we provisions, hey? Haven't we fortresses and an +Elbe, to bar the bounce of an invader? + + [The cavalcade passes out of sight and the crowd draws off.] + +FIRST CITIZEN + +By God, I must to beer and 'bacco, to soften my rage! + + [Exeunt citizens.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + So doth the Will objectify Itself + In likeness of a sturdy people's wrath, + Which takes no count of the new trends of time, + Trusting ebbed glory in a present need.-- + What if their strength should equal not their fire, + And their devotion dull their vigilance?-- + Uncertainly, by fits, the Will doth work + In Brunswick's blood, their chief, as in themselves; + It ramifies in streams that intermit + And make their movement vague, old-fashioned, slow + To foil the modern methods counterposed! + + [Evening descends on the city, and it grows dusk. The soldiers + being dismissed from duty, some young officers in a frolic of + defiance halt, draw their swords and whet them on the steps of + the FRENCH AMBASSADOR'S residence as they pass. The noise of + whetting is audible through the street.] + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + The soul of a nation distrest + Is aflame, + And heaving with eager unrest + In its aim + To assert its old prowess, and stouten its chronicled fame! + + +SEMICHORUS I + + It boils in a boisterous thrill + Through the mart, + Unconscious well-nigh as the Will + Of its part: + Would it wholly might be so, and feel not the forthcoming smart! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + In conclaves no voice of reflection + Is heard, + King, Councillors, grudge circumspection + A word, + And victory is visioned, and seemings as facts are averred. + + +CHORUS + + Yea, the soul of a nation distrest + Is aflame, + And heaving with eager unrest + In its aim + At supreme desperations to blazon the national name! + + [Midnight strikes, lights are extinguished one by one, and the + scene disappears.] + + + +SCENE IV + +THE FIELD OF JENA + + [Day has just dawned through a grey October haze. The French, + with their backs to the nebulous light, loom out and show + themselves to be already under arms; LANNES holding the centre, + NEY the right, SOULT the extreme right, and AUGEREAU the left. + The Imperial Guard and MURAT'S cavalry are drawn up on the + Landgrafenberg, behind the centre of the French position. In + a valley stretching along to the rear of this height flows + northward towards the Elbe the little river Saale, on which + the town of Jena stands. + + On the irregular plateaux in front of the French lines, and almost + close to the latter, are the Prussians un TAUENZIEN; and away on + their right rear towards Weimar the bulk of the army under PRINCE + HOHENLOHE. The DUKE OF BRUNSWICK (father of the Princess of + Wales) is twelve miles off with his force at Auerstadt, in the + valley of the Ilm. + + Enter NAPOLEON, and men bearing torches who escort him. He moves + along the front of his troops, and is lost to view behind the + mist and surrounding objects. But his voice is audible.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Keep you good guard against their cavalry, +In past repute the formidablest known, +And such it may be now; so asks our heed. +Receive it, then, in square, unflinchingly.-- +Remember, men, last year you captured Ulm, +So make no doubt that you will vanquish these! + + +SOLDIERS + +Long live the Emperor! Advance, advance! + + +DUMB SHOW + +Almost immediately glimpses reveal that LANNES' corps is moving +forward, and amid an unbroken clatter of firelocks spreads out +further and wider upon the stretch of country in front of the +Landgrafenberg. The Prussians, surprised at discerning in the +fog such masses of the enemy close at hand, recede towards the +Ilm. + +From PRINCE HOHENLOHE, who is with the body of the Prussians on +the Weimar road to the south, comes perspiring the bulk of the +infantry to rally the retreating regiments of TAUENZIEN, and he +hastens up himself with the cavalry and artillery. The action +is renewed between him and NEY as the clocks of Jena strike ten. + +But AUGEREAU is seen coming to Ney's assistance on one flank of +the Prussians, SOULT bearing down on the other, while NAPOLEON +on the Landgrafenberg orders the Imperial Guard to advance. The +doomed Prussians are driven back, this time more decisively, +falling in great numbers and losing many as prisoners as they +reel down the sloping land towards the banks of the Ilm behind +them. GENERAL RUCHEL, in a last despairing effort to rally, +faces the French onset in person and alone. He receives a bullet +through the chest and falls dead. + +The crisis of the struggle is reached, though the battle is not +over. NAPOLEON, discerning from the Landgrafenberg that the +decisive moment has come, directs MURAT to sweep forward with all +his cavalry. It engages the shattered Prussians, surrounds them, +and cuts them down by thousands. + +From behind the horizon, a dozen miles off, between the din of guns +in the visible battle, there can be heard an ominous roar, as of a +second invisible battle in progress there. Generals and other +officers look at each other and hazard conjectures between whiles, +the French with exultation, the Prussians gloomily. + + +HOHENLOHE + +That means the Duke of Brunswick, I conceive, +Impacting on the enemy's further force +Led by, they say, Davout and Bernadotte. +God grant his star less lurid rays then ours, +Or this too pregnant, hoarsely-groaning day +Shall, ere its loud delivery be done, +Have twinned disasters to the fatherland +That fifty years will fail to sepulchre! + + +Enter a straggler on horseback. + + +STRAGGLER + +Prince, I have circuited by Auerstadt, +And bring ye dazzling tidings of the fight, +Which, if report by those who saw't be true, +Has raged thereat from clammy day-dawn on, +And left us victors! + + +HOHENLOHE + + Thitherward go I, +And patch the mischief wrought upon us here! + + +Enter a second and then a third straggler. + +Well, wet-faced men, whence come ye? What d'ye bring? + + +STRAGGLER II + +Your Highness, I rode straight from Hassenhausen, +Across the stream of battle as it boiled +Betwixt that village and the banks of Saale, +And such the turmoil that no man could speak +On what the issue was! + + +HOHENLOHE (To Straggler III) + + Can you add aught? + + +STRAGGLER III + +Nothing that's clear, your Highness. + + +HOHENLOHE + + Man, your mien +Is that of one who knows, but will not say. +Detain him here. + + +STRAGGLER III + + The blackness of my news, +Your Highness, darks my sense! . . . I saw this much: +His charging grenadiers, received in the face +A grape-shot stroke that gouged out half of it, +Proclaiming then and there his life fordone. + + +HOHENLOHE + +Fallen? Brunswick! Reed in council, rock in fire . . . +Ah, this he looked for. Many a time of late +Has he, by some strange gift of foreknowing, +Declared his fate was hovering in such wise! + + +STRAGGLER III + +His aged form being borne beyond the strife, +The gallant Moellendorf, in flushed despair, +Swore he would not survive; and, pressing on, +He, too, was slaughtered. Patriotic rage +Brimmed marshals' breasts and men's. The King himself +Fought like the commonest. But nothing served. +His horse is slain; his own doom yet unknown. +Prince William, too, is wounded. Brave Schmettau +Is broke; himself disabled. All give way, +And regiments crash like trees at felling-time! + + +HOHENLOHE + +No more. We match it here. The yielding lines +Still sweep us backward. Backward we must go! + + [Exeunt HOHENLOHE, Staff, stragglers, etc.] + + +The Prussian retreat from Jena quickens to a rout, many thousands +taken prisoners by MURAT, who pursues them to Weimar, where the +inhabitants fly shrieking through the streets. + +The October day closes in to evening. By this time the troops +retiring with the King of Prussia from the second battlefield +of Auerstadt have intersected RUCHEL'S and HOHENLOHE'S flying +battalions from Jena. The crossing streams of fugitives strike +panic into each other, and the tumult increases with the +thickening darkness till night renders the scene invisible, +and nothing remains but a confused diminishing noise, and fitful +lights here and there. + + + +SCENE V + +BERLIN. A ROOM OVERLOOKING A PUBLIC PLACE + + [A fluttering group of ladies is gathered at the window, gazing + out and conversing anxiously. The time draws towards noon, when + the clatter of a galloping horse's hoofs is heard echoing up the + long Potsdamer-Strasse, and presently turning into the Leipziger- + Strasse reaches the open space commanded by the ladies' outlook. + It ceases before a Government building opposite them, and the + rider disappears into the courtyard.] + + +FIRST LADY + +Yes: surely he is a courier from the field! + + +SECOND LADY + +Shall we not hasten down, and take from him +The doom his tongue may deal us? + + +THIRD LADY + + We shall catch +As soon by watching here as hastening hence +The tenour of his new. (They wait.) Ah, yes: see--see +The bulletin is straightway to be nailed! +He was, then, from the field. . . . + + [They wait on while the bulletin is affixed.] + + +SECOND LADY + +I cannot scan the words the scroll proclaims; +Peer as I will, these too quick-thronging dreads +Bring water to the eyes. Grant us, good Heaven, +That victory be where she is needed most +To prove Thy goodness! . . . What do you make of it? + + +THIRD LADY (reading, through a glass) + +"The battle strains us sorely; but resolve +May save us even now. Our last attack +Has failed, with fearful loss. Once more we strive." + + [A long silence in the room. Another rider is heard approaching, + above the murmur of the gathering citizens. The second lady + looks out.] + + +SECOND LADY + +A straggler merely he. . . . But they decide, +At last, to post his news, wild-winged or no. + + +THIRD LADY (reading again through her glass) + +"The Duke of Brunswick, leading on a charge, +Has met his death-doom. Schmettau, too, is slain; +Prince William wounded. But we stand as yet, +Engaging with the last of our reserves." + + [The agitation in the street communicates itself to the room. + Some of the ladies weep silently as they wait, much longer this + time. Another horseman is at length heard clattering into the + Platz, and they lean out again with painful eagerness.] + + +SECOND LADY + +An adjutant of Marshal Moellendorf's +If I define him rightly. Read--O read!-- +Though reading draw them from their socket-holes +Use your eyes now! + + +THIRD LADY (glass up) + + As soon as 'tis affixed. . . . +Ah--this means much! The people's air and gait +Too well betray disaster. (Reading.) "Berliners, +The King has lost the battle! Bear it well. +The foremost duty of a citizen +Is to maintain a brave tranquillity. +This is what I, the Governor, demand +Of men and women now. . . . The King lives still." + + [They turn from the window and sit in a silence broken only by + monosyllabic words, hearing abstractedly the dismay without + that has followed the previous excitement and hope. + + The stagnation is ended by a cheering outside, of subdued + emotional quality, mixed with sounds of grief. They again + look forth. QUEEN LOUISA is leaving the city with a very + small escort, and the populace seem overcome. They strain + their eyes after her as she disappears. Enter fourth lady.] + +FIRST LADY + +How does she bear it? Whither does she go? + + +FOURTH LADY + +She goes to join the King at Custrin, there +To abide events--as we. Her heroism +So schools her sense of her calamities +As out of grief to carve new queenliness, +And turn a mobile mien to statuesque, +Save for a sliding tear. + + [The ladies leave the window severally.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + So the Will plays at flux and reflux still. + This monarchy, one-half whose pedestal + Is built of Polish bones, has bones home-made! + Let the fair woman bear it. Poland did. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Meanwhile the mighty Emperor nears apace, + And soon will glitter at the city gates + With palpitating drums, and breathing brass, + And rampant joyful-jingling retinue. + + [An evening mist cloaks the scene.] + + + +SCENE VI + +THE SAME + + [It is a brilliant morning, with a fresh breeze, and not a cloud. + The open Platz and the adjoining streets are filled with dense + crowds of citizens, in whose upturned faces curiosity has + mastered consternation and grief. + + Martial music is heard, at first faint, then louder, followed + by a trampling of innumerable horses and a clanking of arms and + accoutrements. Through a street on the right hand of the view + from the windows come troops of French dragoons heralding the + arrival of BONAPARTE. + + Re-enter the room hurriedly and cross to the windows several + ladies as before, some in tears.] + + +FIRST LADY + +The kingdom late of Prussia, can it be +That thus it disappears?--a patriot-cry, +A battle, bravery, ruin; and no more? + + +SECOND LADY + +Thank God the Queen's gone! + + +THIRD LADY + + To what sanctuary? +From earthquake shocks there is no sheltering cell! +--Is this what men call conquest? Must it close +As historied conquests do, or be annulled +By modern reason and the urbaner sense?-- +Such issue none would venture to predict, +Yet folly 'twere to nourish foreshaped fears +And suffer in conjecture and in deed.-- +If verily our country be dislimbed, +Then at the mercy of his domination +The face of earth will lie, and vassal kings +Stand waiting on himself the Overking, +Who ruling rules all; till desperateness +Sting and excite a bonded last resistance, +And work its own release. + + +SECOND LADY + + He comes even now +From sacrilege. I learn that, since the fight, +In marching here by Potsdam yesterday, +Sans-Souci Palace drew his curious feet, +Where even great Frederick's tomb was bared to him. + + +FOURTH LADY + +All objects on the Palace--cared for, kept +Even as they were when our arch-monarch died-- +The books, the chair, the inkhorn, and the pen +He quizzed with flippant curiosity; +And entering where our hero's bones are urned +He seized the sword and standards treasured there, +And with a mixed effrontery and regard +Declared they should be all dispatched to Paris +As gifts to the Hotel des Invalides. + + +THIRD LADY + +Such rodomontade is cheap: what matters it! + + [A galaxy of marshals, forming Napoleon's staff, now enters the + Platz immediately before the windows. In the midst rides the + EMPEROR himself. The ladies are silent. The procession passes + along the front until it reaches the entrance to the Royal Palace. + At the door NAPOLEON descends from his horse and goes into the + building amid the resonant trumpetings of his soldiers and the + silence of the crowd.] + + +SECOND LADY (impressed) + +O why does such a man debase himself +By countenancing loud scurrility +Against a queen who cannot make reprise! +A power so ponderous needs no littleness-- +The last resort of feeble desperates! + + [Enter fifth lady.] + + +FIFTH LADY (breathlessly) + +Humiliation grows acuter still. +He placards rhetoric to his soldiery +On their distress of us and our allies, +Declaring he'll not stack away his arms +Till he has choked the remaining foes of France +In their own gainful glut.--Whom means he, think you? + + +FIRST LADY + +Us? + + +THIRD LADY + + Russia? Austria? + + +FIFTH LADY + + Neither: England.--Yea, +Her he still holds the master mischief-mind, +And marrer of the countries' quietude, +By exercising untold tyranny +Over all the ports and seas. + + +SECOND LADY + + Then England's doomed! +When he has overturned the Russian rule, +England comes next for wrack. They say that know! . . . +Look--he has entered by the Royal doors +And makes the Palace his.--Now let us go!-- +Our course, alas! is--whither? + + [Exeunt ladies. The curtain drops temporarily.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + Deeming himself omnipotent + With the Kings of the Christian continent, + To warden the waves was his further bent. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + But the weaving Will from eternity, + (Hemming them in by a circling sea) + Evolved the fleet of the Englishry. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + The wane of his armaments ill-advised, + At Trafalgar, to a force despised, + Was a wound which never has cicatrized. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + This, O this is the cramp that grips! + And freezes the Emperor's finger-tips + From signing a peace with the Land of Ships. + + +CHORUS + + The Universal-empire plot + Demands the rule of that wave-walled spot; + And peace with England cometh not! + + +THE SCENE REOPENS + + [A lurid gloom now envelops the Platz and city; and Bonaparte + is heard as from the Palace: + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +These monstrous violations being in train +Of law and national integrities +By English arrogance in things marine, +(Which dares to capture simple merchant-craft, +In honest quest of harmless merchandize, +For crime of kinship to a hostile power) +Our vast, effectual, and majestic strokes +In this unmatched campaign, enable me +To bar from commerce with the Continent +All keels of English frame. Hence I decree:-- + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + This outlines his renowned "Berlin Decree." + Maybe he meditates its scheme in sleep, + Or hints it to his suite, or syllables it + While shaping, to his scribes. + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +All England's ports to suffer strict blockade; +All traffic with that land to cease forthwith; +All natives of her isles, wherever met, +To be detained as windfalls of the war. +All chattels of her make, material, mould, +To be good prize wherever pounced upon: +And never a bottom hailing from her shores +But shall be barred from every haven here. +This for her monstrous harms to human rights, +And shameless sauciness to neighbour powers! + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +I spell herein that our excellently high-coloured drama is not +played out yet! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Nor will it be for many a month of moans, + And summer shocks, and winter-whitened bones. + + [The night gets darker, and the Palace outlines are lost.] + + + +SCENE VII + +TILSIT AND THE RIVER NIEMEN + + [The scene is viewed from the windows of BONAPARTE'S temporary + quarters. Some sub-officers of his suite are looking out upon + it. + + It is the day after midsummer, about one o'clock. A multitude + of soldiery and spectators lines each bank of the broad river + which, stealing slowly north-west, bears almost exactly in its + midst a moored raft of bonded timber. On this as a floor stands + a gorgeous pavilion of draped woodwork, having at each side, + facing the respective banks of the stream, a round-headed doorway + richly festooned. The cumbersome erection acquires from the + current a rhythmical movement, as if it were breathing, and the + breeze now and then produces a shiver on the face of the stream.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +On the south-west or Prussian side rides the EMPEROR NAPOLEON +in uniform, attended by the GRAND DUKE OF BERG, the PRINCE OF +NEUFCHATEL, MARSHAL BESSIERES, DUROC Marshal of the Palace, and +CAULAINCOURT Master of the Horse. The EMPEROR looks well, but is +growing fat. They embark on an ornamental barge in front of them, +which immediately puts off. It is now apparent to the watchers +that a precisely similar enactment has simultaneously taken place +on the opposite or Russian bank, the chief figure being the +EMPEROR ALEXANDER--a graceful, flexible man of thirty, with a +courteous manner and good-natured face. He has come out from +an inn on that side accompanied by the GRAND DUKE CONSTANTINE, +GENERAL BENNIGSEN, GENERAL OUWAROFF, PRINCE LABANOFF, and ADJUTANT- +GENERAL COUNT LIEVEN. + +The two barges draw towards the raft, reaching the opposite sides +of it about the same time, amidst discharges of cannon. Each +Emperor enters the door that faces him, and meeting in the centre +of the pavilion they formally embrace each other. They retire +together to the screened interior, the suite of each remaining in +the outer half of the pavilion. + +More than an hour passes while they are thus invisible. The French +officers who have observed the scene from the lodging of NAPOLEON +walk about idly, and ever and anon go curiously to the windows, +again to watch the raft. + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + +The prelude to this smooth scene--mark well!--were the shocks + whereof the times gave token +Vaguely to us ere last year's snows shut over Lithuanian pine + and pool, +Which we told at the fall of the faded leaf, when the pride of + Prussia was bruised and broken, +And the Man of Adventure sat in the seat of the Man of Method + and rigid Rule. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES + +Snows incarnadined were thine, O Eylau, field of the wide white + spaces, +And frozen lakes, and frozen limbs, and blood iced hard as it left + the veins: +Steel-cased squadrons swathed in cloud-drift, plunging to doom + through pathless places, +And forty thousand dead and near dead, strewing the early-lighted + plains. +Friedland to these adds its tale of victims, its midnight marches + and hot collisions, +Its plunge, at his word, on the enemy hooped by the bended river + and famed Mill stream, +As he shatters the moves of the loose-knit nations to curb his + exploitful soul's ambitions, +And their great Confederacy dissolves like the diorama of a dream. + + +DUMB SHOW (continues) + +NAPOLEON and ALEXANDER emerge from their seclusion, and each is +beheld talking to the suite of his companion apparently in +flattering compliment. An effusive parting, which signifies +itself to be but temporary, is followed by their return to the +river shores amid the cheers of the spectators. + +NAPOLEON and his marshals arrive at the door of his quarters and +enter, and pass out of sight to other rooms than that of the +foreground in which the observers are loitering. Dumb show ends. + + [A murmured conversation grows audible, carried on by two persons + in the crowd beneath the open windows. Their dress being the + native one, and their tongue unfamiliar, they seem to the officers + to be merely inhabitants gossiping; and their voices continue + unheeded.] + + +FIRST ENGLISH SPY(14) (below) + +Did you get much for me to send on? + + +SECOND ENGLISH SPY + +Much; and startling, too. "Why are we at war?" says Napoleon when +they met.--"Ah--why!" said t'other.--"Well," said Boney, "I am +fighting you only as an ally of the English, and you are simply +serving them, and not yourself, in fighting me."--"In that case," +says Alexander, "we shall soon be friends, for I owe her as great +a grudge as you." + + +FIRST SPY + +Dammy, go that length, did they! + + +SECOND SPY + +Then they plunged into the old story about English selfishness, +and greed, and duplicity. But the climax related to Spain, and +it amounted to this: they agreed that the Bourbons of the Spanish +throne should be made to abdicate, and Bonaparte's relations set +up as sovereigns instead of them. + + +FIRST SPY + +Somebody must ride like hell to let our Cabinet know! + + +SECOND SPY + +I have written it down in cipher, not to trust to memory, and to +guard against accidents.--They also agree that France should have +the Pope's dominions, Malta, and Egypt; that Napoleon's brother +Joseph should have Sicily as well as Naples, and that they would +partition the Ottoman Empire between them. + + +FIRST SPY + +Cutting up Europe like a plum-pudding. Par nobile fratrum! + + +SECOND SPY + +Then they worthy pair came to poor Prussia, whom Alexander, they +say, was anxious about, as he is under engagements to her. It +seems that Napoleon agrees to restore to the King as many of his +states as will cover Alexander's promise, so that the Tsar may +feel free to strike out in this new line with his new friend. + + +FIRST SPY + +Surely this is but surmise? + + +SECOND SPY + +Not at all. One of the suite overheard, and I got round him. There +was much more, which I did not learn. But they are going to soothe +and flatter the unfortunate King and Queen by asking them to a banquet +here. + + +FIRST SPY + +Such a spirited woman will never come! + + +SECOND SPY + +We shall see. Whom necessity compels needs must: and she has gone +through an Iliad of woes! + + +FIRST SPY + +It is this Spanish business that will stagger England, by God! And +now to let her know it. + + +FRENCH SUBALTERN (looking out above) + +What are those townspeople talking about so earnestly, I wonder? The +lingo of this place has an accent akin to English. + + +SECOND SUBALTERN + +No doubt because the races are both Teutonic. + + [The spies observe that they are noticed, and disappear in the + crowd. The curtain drops.] + + + +SCENE VIII + +THE SAME + + [The midsummer sun is low, and a long table in the aforeshown + apartment is laid out for a dinner, among the decorations being + bunches of the season's roses. + + At the vacant end of the room (divided from the dining end by + folding-doors, now open) there are discovered the EMPEROR NAPOLEON, + the GRAND-DUKE CONSTANTINE, PRINCE HENRY OF PRUSSIA, the PRINCE + ROYAL OF BAVARIA, the GRAND DUKE OF BERG, and attendant officers. + + Enter the TSAR ALEXANDER. NAPOLEON welcomes him, and the twain + move apart from the rest. BONAPARTE placing a chair for his + visitor and flinging himself down on another.] + + +NAPOLEON + +The comforts I can offer are not great, +Nor is the accommodation more than scant +That falls to me for hospitality; +But, as it is, accept. + + +ALEXANDER + + It serves well. +And to unbrace the bandages of state +Is as clear air to incense-stifled souls. +What of the Queen? + + +NAPOLEON + + She's coming with the King. +We have some quarter-hour to spare or more +Before their Majesties are timed for us. + + +ALEXANDER + +Good. I would speak of them. That she should show here +After the late events, betokens much! +Abasement in so proud a woman's heart (His voice grows tremulous.) +Is not without a dash of painfulness. +And I beseech you, sire, that you hold out +Some soothing hope for her? + + +NAPOLEON + + I have, already!-- +Now, sire, to those affairs we entered on: +Strong friendship, grown secure, bids me repeat +That you have been much duped by your allies. + + [ALEXANDER shows mortification.] + +Prussia's a shuffler, England a self-seeker, +Nobility has shone in you alone. +Your error grew of over-generous dreams, +And misbeliefs by dullard ministers. +By treating personally we speed affairs +More in an hour than they in blundering months. +Between us two, henceforth, must stand no third. +There's peril in it, while England's mean ambition +Still works to get us skewered by the ears; +And in this view your chiefs-of-staff concur. + + +ALEXANDER + +The judgment of my officers I share. + + +NAPOLEON + +To recapitulate. Nothing can greaten you +Like this alliance. Providence has flung +My good friend Sultan Selim from his throne, +Leaving me free in dealings with the Porte; +And I discern the hour as one to end +A rule that Time no longer lets cohere. +If I abstain, its spoils will go to swell +The power of this same England, our annoy; +That country which enchains the trade of towns +With such bold reach as to monopolize, +Among the rest, the whole of Petersburg's-- +Ay!--through her purse, friend, as the lender there!-- +Shutting that purse, she may incite to--what? +Muscovy's fall, its ruler's murdering. +Her fleet at any minute can encoop +Yours in the Baltic; in the Black Sea, too; +And keep you snug as minnows in a glass! + +Hence we, fast-fellowed by our mutual foes, +Seaward the British, Germany by land, +And having compassed, for our common good, +The Turkish Empire's due partitioning, +As comrades can conjunctly rule the world +To its own gain and our eternal fame! + + +ALEXANDER (stirred and flushed) + +I see vast prospects opened!--yet, in truth, +Ere you, sire, broached these themes, their outlines loomed +Not seldom in my own imaginings; +But with less clear a vision than endows +So great a captain, statesman, philosoph, +As centre in yourself; whom had I known +Sooner by some few years, months, even weeks, +I had been spared full many a fault of rule. +--Now as to Austria. Should we call her in? + + +NAPOLEON + +Two in a bed I have slept, but never three. + + +ALEXANDER + +Ha-ha! Delightful. And, then nextly, Spain? + + +NAPOLEON + +I lighted on some letters at Berlin, +Wherein King Carlos offered to attack me. +A Bourbon, minded thus, so near as Spain, +Is dangerous stuff. He must be seen to soon! . . . +A draft, then, of our treaty being penned, +We will peruse it later. If King George +Will not, upon the terms there offered him, +Conclude a ready peace, he can be forced. +Trumpet yourself as France's firm ally, +And Austria will fain to do the same: +England, left nude to such joint harassment, +Must shiver--fall. + + +ALEXANDER (with naive enthusiasm) + + It is a great alliance! + + +NAPOLEON + +Would it were one in blood as well as brain-- +Of family hopes, and sweet domestic bliss! + + +ALEXANDER + +Ah--is it to my sister you refer? + + +NAPOLEON + +The launching of a lineal progeny +Has been much pressed upon me, much, of late, +For reasons which I will not dwell on now. +Staid counsellors, my brother Joseph, too, +Urge that I loose the Empress by divorce, +And re-wive promptly for the country's good. +Princesses even have been named for me!-- +However this, to-day, is premature, +And 'twixt ourselves alone. . . . + +The Queen of Prussia must ere long be here: +Berthier escorts her. And the King, too, comes. +She's one whom you admire? + + +ALEXANDER (reddening ingenuously) + + Yes. . . . Formerly +I had--did feel that some faint fascination +Vaguely adorned her form. And, to be plain, +Certain reports have been calumnious, +And wronged an honest woman. + + +NAPOLEON + + As I knew! +But she is wearing thready: why, her years +Must be full one-and-thirty, if she's one. + + +ALEXANDER (quickly) + +No, sire. She's twenty-nine. If traits teach more +It means that cruel memory gnaws at her +As fair inciter to that fatal war +Which broke her to the dust! . . . I do confess +(Since now we speak on't) that this sacrifice +Prussia is doomed to, still disquiets me. +Unhappy King! When I recall the oaths +Sworn him upon great Frederick's sepulchre, +And--and my promises to his sad Queen, +It pricks me that his realm and revenues +Should be stript down to the mere half they were! + + +NAPOLEON (cooly) + +Believe me, 'tis but my regard for you +Which lets me leave him that! Far easier 'twere +To leave him none at all. + + [He rises and goes to the window.] + + But here they are. +No; it's the Queen alone, with Berthier +As I directed. Then the King will follow. + + +ALEXANDER + +Let me, sire, urge your courtesy to bestow +Some gentle words on her? + + +NAPOLEON + + Ay, ay; I will. + + [Enter QUEEN LOUISA OF PRUSSIA on the arm of BERTHIER. She + appears in majestic garments and with a smile on her lips, so + that her still great beauty is impressive. But her eyes bear + traces of tears. She accepts NAPOLEON'S attentions with the + stormily sad air of a wounded beauty. Whilst she is being + received the KING arrives. He is a plain, shy, honest-faced, + awkward man, with a wrecked and solitary look. His manner to + NAPOLEON is, nevertheless, dignified, and even stiff. + + The company move into the inner half of the room, where the + tables are, and the folding-doors being shut, they seat themselves + at dinner, the QUEEN taking a place between NAPOLEON and ALEXANDER.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Madame, I love magnificent attire; +But in the present instance can but note +That each bright knot and jewel less adorns +The brighter wearer than the wearer it! + + +QUEEN (with a sigh) + +You praise one, sire, whom now the wanton world +Has learnt to cease from praising! But such words +From such a quarter are of worth no less. + + +NAPOLEON + +Of worth as candour, madame; not as gauge. +Your reach in rarity outsoars my scope. +Yet, do you know, a troop of my hussars, +That last October day, nigh captured you? + + +QUEEN + +Nay! Never a single Frenchman did I see. + + +NAPOLEON + +Not less it was that you exposed yourself, +And should have been protected. But at Weimar, +Had you but sought me, 'twould have bettered you. + + +QUEEN + +I had no zeal to meet you, sire, alas! + + +NAPOLEON (after a silence) + +And how at Memel do you sport with time? + + +QUEEN + +Sport? I!--I pore on musty chronicles, +And muse on usurpations long forgot, +And other historied dramas of high wrong! + + +NAPOLEON + +Why con not annals of your own rich age? +They treasure acts well fit for pondering. + + +QUEEN + +I am reminded too much of my age +By having had to live in it. May Heaven +Defend me now, and my wan ghost anon, +From conning it again! + + +NAPOLEON + + Alas, alas! +Too grievous, this, for one who is yet a queen! + + +QUEEN + +No; I have cause for vials more of grief.-- +Prussia was blind in blazoning her power +Against the Mage of Earth! . . . +The embers of great Frederick's deeds inflamed her: +His glories swelled her to her ruining. +Too well has she been punished! (Emotion stops her.) + + +ALEXANDER (in a low voice, looking anxiously at her) + + Say not so. +You speak as all were lost. Things are not thus! +Such desperation has unreason in it, +And bleeds the hearts that crave to comfort you. + + +NAPOLEON (to the King) + +I trust the treaty, further pondered, sire, +Has consolations? + + +KING (curtly) + + I am a luckless man; +And muster strength to bear my lucklessness +Without vain hope of consolations now. +One thing, at least, I trust I have shown you, sire +That _I_ provoked not this calamity! +At Anspach first my feud with you began-- +Anspach, my Eden, violated and shamed +By blushless tramplings of your legions there! + + +NAPOLEON + +It's rather late, methinks, to talk thus now. + + +KING (with more choler) + +Never too late for truth and plainspeaking! + + +NAPOLEON (blandly) + +To your ally, the Tsar, I must refer you. +He was it, and not I, who tempted you +To push for war, when Eylau must have shown +Your every profit to have lain in peace.-- +He can indemn; yes, much or small; and may. + + +KING (with a head-shake) + +I would make up, would well make up, my mind +To half my kingdom's loss, could in such limb +But Magdeburg not lie. Dear Magdeburg, +Place of my heart-hold; THAT I would retain! + + +NAPOLEON + +Our words take not such pattern as is wont +To grace occasions of festivity. + + [He turns brusquely from the King. The banquet proceeds with a + more general conversation. When finished a toast is proposed: + "The Freedom of the Seas," and drunk with enthusiasm.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + Another hit at England and her tubs! + I hear harsh echoes from her chalky chines. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + O heed not England now! Still read the Queen. + One grieves to see her spend her pretty spells + Upon the man who has so injured her. + + [They rise from table, and the folding-doors being opened they pass + into the adjoining room. + + Here are now assembled MURAT, TALLEYRAND, KOURAKIN, KALKREUTH, + BERTHIER, BESSIERES, CAULAINCOURT, LABANOFF, BENNIGSEN, and others. + NAPOLEON having spoken a few words here and there resumes his + conversation with QUEEN LOUISA, and parenthetically offers snuff + to the COUNTESS VOSS, her lady-in-waiting. TALLEYRAND, who has + observed NAPOLEON'S growing interest in the QUEEN, contrives to + get near him.] + + +TALLEYRAND (in a whisper) + +Sire, is it possible that you can bend +To let one woman's fairness filch from you +All the resplendent fortune that attends +The grandest victory of your grand career? + + [The QUEEN'S quick eye observes and flashes at the whisper, and + she obtains a word with the minister.] + + +QUEEN (sarcastically) + +I should infer, dear Monsieur Talleyrand, +Only two persons in the world regret +My having come to Tilsit. + + +TALLEYRAND + + Madame, two? +Can any!--who may such sad rascals be? + + +QUEEN + +You, and myself, Prince. (Gravely.) Yes! myself and you. + + [TALLEYRAND'S face becomes impassive, and he does not reply. + Soon the QUEEN prepares to leave, and NAPOLEON rejoins her.] + + +NAPOLEON (taking a rose from a vase) + +Dear Queen, do pray accept this little token +As souvenir of me before you go? + + [He offers her the rose, with his hand on his heart. She + hesitates, but accepts it.] + + +QUEEN (impulsively, with waiting tears) + +Let Magdeburg come with it, sire! O yes! + + +NAPOLEON (with sudden frigidity) + +It is for you to take what I can give. +And I give this--no more.(15) + + [She turns her head to hide her emotion, and withdraws. NAPOLEON + steps up to her, and offers his arm. She takes it silently, and + he perceives the tears on her cheeks. They cross towards the ante- + room, away from the other guests.] + + +NAPOLEON (softly) + +Still weeping, dearest lady! Why is this? + + +QUEEN (seizing his hand and pressing it) + +Your speeches darn the tearings of your sword!-- +Between us two, as man and woman now, +Is't even possible you question why! +O why did not the Greatest of the Age-- +Of future ages--of the ages past, +This one time win a woman's worship--yea, +For all her little life! + + +NAPOLEON (gravely) + + Know you, my Fair +That I--ay, I--in this deserve your pity.-- +Some force within me, baffling mine intent, +Harries me onward, whether I will or no. +My star, my star is what's to blame--not I. +It is unswervable! + + +QUEEN + + Then now, alas! +My duty's done as mother, wife, and queen.-- +I'll say no more--but that my heart is broken! + + [Exeunt NAPOLEON, QUEEN, and LADY-IN-WAITING.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + He spoke thus at the Bridge of Lodi. Strange, + He's of the few in Europe who discern + The working of the Will. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + If that be so, + Better for Europe lacked he such discerning! + + [NAPOLEON returns to the room and joins TALLEYRAND.] + + +NAPOLEON (aside to his minister) + +My God, it was touch-and-go that time, Talleyrand! She was within +an ace of getting over me. As she stepped into the carriage she +said in her pretty way, "O I have been cruelly deceived by you!" +And when she sank down inside, not knowing I heard, she burst into +sobs fit to move a statue. The Devil take me if I hadn't a good +mind to stop the horses, jump in, give her a good kissing, and +agree to all she wanted. Ha-ha, well; a miss is as good as a mile. +Had she come sooner with those sweet, beseeching blue eyes of hers, +who knows what might not have happened! But she didn't come sooner, +and I have kept in my right mind. + + [The RUSSIAN EMPEROR, the KING OF PRUSSIA, and other guests advance + to bid adieu. They depart severally. When they are gone NAPOLEON + turns to TALLEYRAND.] + +Adhere, then, to the treaty as it stands: +Change not therein a single article, +But write it fair forthwith. + + [Exeunt NAPOLEON, TALLEYRAND, and other ministers and officers in + waiting.[ + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + Some surly voice afar I heard now + Of an enisled Britannic quality; + Wots any of the cause? + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Perchance I do! + Britain is roused, in her slow, stolid style, + By Bonaparte's pronouncement at Berlin + Against her cargoes, commerce, life itself; + And now from out her water citadel + Blows counterblasting "Orders." Rumours tell. + + +RUMOUR I + + "From havens of fierce France and her allies, + With poor or precious freight of merchandize + Whoso adventures, England pounds as prize!" + + +RUMOUR II + + Thereat Napoleon names her, furiously, + Curst Oligarch, Arch-pirate of the sea, + Who shall lack room to live while liveth he! + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + And peoples are enmeshed in new calamity! + + [Curtain of Evening Shades.] + + + + +ACT SECOND + + +SCENE I + +THE PYRENEES AND VALLEYS ADJOINING + + [The view is from upper air, immediately over the region that + lies between Bayonne on the north, Pampeluna on the south, and + San Sebastian on the west, including a portion of the Cantabrian + mountains. The month is February, and snow covers not only the + peaks but the lower slopes. The roads over the passes are well + beaten.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +At various elevations multitudes of NAPOLEON'S soldiery, to the +number of about thirty thousand, are discerned in a creeping +progress across the frontier from the French to the Spanish side. +The thin long columns serpentine along the roads, but are sometimes +broken, while at others they disappear altogether behind vertical +rocks and overhanging woods. The heavy guns and the whitey-brown +tilts of the baggage-waggons seem the largest objects in the +procession, which are dragged laboriously up the incline to the +watershed, their lumbering being audible as high as the clouds. + +Simultaneously the river Bidassoa, in a valley to the west, is +being crossed by a train of artillery and another thirty thousand +men, all forming part of the same systematic advance. + +Along the great highway through Biscay the wondering native +carters draw their sheep-skinned ox-teams aside, to let the +regiments pass, and stray groups of peaceable field-workers +in Navarre look inquiringly at the marching and prancing +progress. + +Time passes, and the various northern strongholds are approached +by these legions. Their governors emerge at a summons, and when +seeming explanations have been given the unwelcome comers are +doubtfully admitted. + +The chief places to which entrance is thus obtained are Pampeluna +and San Sebastian at the front of the scene, and far away towards +the shining horizon of the Mediterranean, Figueras, and Barcelona. + +Dumb Show concludes as the mountain mists close over. + + + +SCENE II + +ARANJUEZ, NEAR MADRID. A ROOM IN THE PALACE OF GODOY, THE "PRINCE + OF PEACE" + + [A private chamber is disclosed, richly furnished with paintings, + vases, mirrors, silk hangings, gilded lounges, and several lutes + of rare workmanship. The hour is midnight, the room being lit + by screened candelabra. In the centre at the back of the scene + is a large window heavily curtained. + + GODOY and the QUEEN MARIA LUISA are dallying on a sofa. THE + PRINCE OF PEACE is a fine handsome man in middle life, with + curled hair and a mien of easy good-nature. The QUEEN is older, + but looks younger in the dim light, from the lavish use of + beautifying arts. She has pronounced features, dark eyes, low + brows, black hair bound by a jewelled bandeau, and brought forward + in curls over her forehead and temples, long heavy ear-rings, an + open bodice, and sleeves puffed at the shoulders. A cloak and + other mufflers lie on a chair beside her.] + + +GODOY + +The life-guards still insist, Love, that the King +Shall not leave Aranjuez. + + +QUEEN + + Let them insist. +Whether we stay, or whether we depart, +Napoleon soon draws hither with his host! + + +GODOY + +He says he comes pacifically. . . . But no! + + +QUEEN + +Dearest, we must away to Andalusia, +Thence to America when time shall serve. + + +GODOY + +I hold seven thousand men to cover us, +And ships in Cadiz port. But then--the Prince +Flatly declines to go. He lauds the French +As true deliverers. + + +QUEEN + + Go Fernando MUST! . . . +O my sweet friend, that we--our sole two selves-- +Could but escape and leave the rest to fate, +And in a western bower dream out our days!-- +For the King's glass can run but briefly now, +Shattered and shaken as his vigour is.-- +But ah--your love burns not in singleness! +Why, dear, caress Josefa Tudo still? +She does not solve her soul in yours as I. +And why those others even more than her? . . . +How little own I in thee! + + +GODOY + + Such must be. +I cannot quite forsake them. Don't forget +The same scope has been yours in former years. + + +QUEEN + +Yes, Love; I know. I yield! You cannot leave them; +But if you ever would bethink yourself +How long I have been yours, how truly all +Those other pleasures were my desperate shifts +To soften sorrow at your absences, +You would be faithful to me! + + +GODOY + + True, my dear.-- +Yet I do passably keep troth with you, +And fond you with fair regularity;-- +A week beside you, and a week away. +Such is not schemed without some risk and strain.-- +And you agreed Josefa should be mine, +And, too, Thereza without jealousy! (A noise is heard without.) +Ah, what means that? + + [He jumps up from her side and crosses the room to a window, + where he lifts the curtain cautiously. The Queen follows him + with a scared look. + + +QUEEN + + A riot can it be? + + +GODOY + +Let me put these out ere they notice them; +They think me at the Royal Palace yonder. + + [He hastily extinguishes the candles except one taper, which + he places in a recess, so that the room is in shade. He then + draws back the curtains, and she joins him at the window, where, + enclosing her with his arm, he and she look out together. + + In front of the house a guard of hussars is stationed, beyond + them spreading the Plaza or Square. On the other side rises in + the lamplight the white front of the Royal Palace. On the flank + of the Palace is a wall enclosing gardens, bowered alleys, and + orange groves, and in the wall a small door. + + A mixed multitude of soldiery and populace fills the space in + front of the King's Palace, and they shout and address each other + vehemently. During a lull in their vociferations is heard the + peaceful purl of the Tagus over a cascade in the Palace grounds.] + + +QUEEN + +Lingering, we've risked too long our chance of flight! +The Paris Terror will repeat it here. +Not for myself I fear. No, no; for thee! (She clings to him.) +If they should hurt you, it would murder me +By heart-bleedings and stabs intolerable! + + +GODOY (kissing her) + +The first thought now is how to get you back +Within the Palace walls. Why would you risk +To come here on a night so critical? + + +QUEEN (passionately) + +I could not help it--nay, I WOULD not help! +Rather than starve my soul I venture all.-- +Our last love-night--last, maybe, of long years, +Why do you chide me now? + + +GODOY + + Dear Queen, I do not: +I shape these sharp regrets but for your sake. +Hence you must go, somehow, and quickly too. +They think not yet of you in threatening thus, +But of me solely. . . . Where does your lady wait? + + +QUEEN + +Below. One servant with her. They are true, +And can be let know all. But you--but you! (Uproar continues.) + + +GODOY + +I can escape. Now call them. All three cloak +And veil as when you came. + + [They retreat into the room. QUEEN MARIA LUISA'S lady-in-waiting + and servant are summoned. Enter both. All three then muffle + themselves up, and GODOY prepares to conduct the QUEEN downstairs.] + + +QUEEN + +Nay, now! I will not have it. We are safe; +Think of yourself. Can you get out behind? + + +GODOY + +I judge so--when I have done what's needful here.-- +The mob knows not the bye-door--slip across; +Thence around sideways.--All's clear there as yet. + + [The QUEEN, her lady-in-waiting, and the servant go out + hurriedly. + + GODOY looks again from the window. The mob is some way off, the + immediate front being for the moment nearly free of loiterers; and + the three muffled figures are visible, crossing without hindrance + towards the door in the wall of the Palace Gardens. The instant + they reach it a sentinel springs up, challenging them.] + + +GODOY + +Ah--now they are doomed! My God, why did she come! + + [A parley takes place. Something, apparently a bribe, is handed + to the sentinel, and the three are allowed to slip in, the QUEEN + having obviously been unrecognized. He breathes his relief.] + +Now for the others. Then--ah, then Heaven knows! + + [He sounds a bell and a servant enters. + +Where is the Countess of Castillofiel? + + +SERVANT + +She's looking for you, Prince. + + +GODOY + + Find her at once. +Ah--here she is.--That's well.--Go watch the Plaza (to servant). + + [GODOY'S mistress, the DONA JOSEFA TUDO, enters. She is a young + and beautiful woman, the vivacity of whose large dark eyes is + now clouded. She is wrapped up for flight. The servant goes out.] + + +JOSEFA (breathlessly) + +I should have joined you sooner, but I knew +The Queen was fondling with you. She must needs +Come hampering you this night of all the rest, +As if not gorged with you at other times! + + +GODOY + +Don't, pretty one! needless it is in you, +Being so well aware who holds my love.-- +I could not check her coming, since she would. +You well know how the old thing is, and how +I am compelled to let her have her mind! + + [He kisses her repeatedly.] + + +JOSEFA + +But look, the mob is swelling! Pouring in +By thousands from Madrid--and all afoot. +Will they not come on hither from the King's? + + +GODOY + +Not just yet, maybe. You should have sooner fled! +The coach is waiting and the baggage packed. (He again peers out.) +Yes, there the coach is; and the clamourers near, +Led by Montijo, if I see aright. +Yes, they cry "Uncle Peter!"--that means him. +There will be time yet. Now I'll take you down +So far as I may venture. + + [They leave the room. In a few minutes GODOY, having taken her + down, re-enters and again looks out. JOSEFA'S coach is moving + off with a small escort of GODOY'S guards of honour. A sudden + yelling begins, and the crowd rushes up and stops the vehicle. + An altercation ensues.] + + +CROWD + +Uncle Peter, it is the Favourite carrying off Prince Fernando. +Stop him! + + +JOSEFA (putting her head out of the coach) + +Silence their uproar, please, Senor Count of Montijo! It is a lady +only, the Countess of Castillofiel. + + +MONTIJO + +Let her pass, let her pass, friends! It is only that pretty wench +of his, Pepa Tudo, who calls herself a Countess. Our titles are +put to comical uses these days. We shall catch the cock-bird +presently! + + [The DONA JOSEFA'S carriage is allowed to pass on, as a shout + from some who have remained before the Royal Palace attracts the + attention of the multitude, which surges back thither.] + + +CROWD (nearing the Palace) + +Call out the King and the Prince. Long live the King! He shall not +go. Hola! He is gone! Let us see him! He shall abandon Godoy! + + [The clamour before the Royal Palace still increasing, a figure + emerges upon a balcony, whom GODOY recognizes by the lamplight + to be FERNANDO, Prince of Asturias. He can be seen waving his + hand. The mob grows suddenly silent.] + + +FERNANDO (in a shaken voice) + +Citizens! the King my father is in the palace with the Queen. He +has been much tried to-day. + + +CROWD + +Promise, Prince, that he shall not leave us. Promise! + + +FERNANDO + +I do. I promise in his name. He has mistaken you, thinking you +wanted his head. He knows better now. + + +CROWD + +The villain Godoy misrepresented us to him! Throw out the Prince +of Peace! + + +FERNANDO + +He is not here, my friends. + + +CROWD + +Then the King shall announce to us that he has dismissed him! Let +us see him. The King; the King! + + [FERNANDO goes in. KING CARLOS comes out reluctantly, and bows + to their cheering. He produces a paper with a trembling hand. + + +KING (reading) + +"As it is the wish of the people---" + + +CROWD + +Speak up, your Majesty! + + +KING (more loudly) + +"As it is the wish of the people, I release Don Manuel Godoy, Prince +of Peace, from the posts of Generalissimo of the Army and Grand +Admiral of the Fleet, and give him leave to withdraw whither he +pleases." + + +CROWD + +Huzza! + + +KING + +Citizens, to-morrow the decree is to be posted in Madrid. + + +CROWD + +Huzza! Long life to the King, and death to Godoy! + + [KING CARLOS disappears from the balcony, and the populace, + still increasing in numbers, look towards GODOY'S mansion, as + if deliberating how to attack it. GODOY retreats from the + window into the room, and gazing round him starts. A pale, + worn, but placid lady, in a sombre though elegant robe, stands + here in the gloom. She is THEREZA OF BOURBON, the Princess of + Peace.] + + +PRINCESS + +It is only your unhappy wife, Manuel. She will not hurt you! + + +GODOY (shrugging his shoulders) + +Nor with THEY hurt YOU! Why did you not stay in the Royal Palace? +You would have been more comfortable there. + + +PRINCESS + +I don't recognize why you should specially value my comfort. You +have saved you real wives. How can it matter what happens to +your titular one? + + +GODOY + +Much, dear. I always play fair. But it being your blest privilege +not to need my saving I was left free to practise it on those who +did. (Mob heard approaching.) Would that I were in no more danger +than you! + + +PRINCESS + +Puf! + + [He again peers out. His guard of hussars stands firmly in front + of the mansion; but the life-guards from the adjoining barracks, + who have joined the people, endeavour to break the hussars of + GODOY. A shot is fired, GODOY'S guard yields, and the gate and + door are battered in. + + +CROWD (without) + + Murder him! murder him! Death to Manuel Godoy! + + [They are heard rushing onto the court and house.] + + +PRINCESS + +Go, I beseech you! You can do nothing for me, and I pray you to +save yourself! The heap of mats in the lumber-room will hide you! + + [GODOY hastes to a jib-door concealed by sham bookshelves, presses + the spring of it, returns, kisses her, and then slips out. + + His wife sits down with her back against the jib-door, and fans + herself. She hears the crowd trampling up the stairs, but she + does not move, and in a moment people burst in. The leaders are + armed with stakes, daggers, and various improvised weapons, and + some guards in undress appear with halberds.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN (peering into the dim light) + +Where is he? Murder him! (Noticing the Princess.) Come, where +is he? + + +PRINCESS + +The Prince of Peace is gone. I know not wither. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +Who is this lady? + + +LIFE-GUARDSMAN + + Manuel Godoy's Princess. + + +CITIZENS (uncovering) + +Princess, a thousand pardons grant us!--you +An injured wife--an injured people we! +Common misfortune makes us more than kin. +No single hair of yours shall suffer harm. + + [The PRINCESS bows.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +But this, Senora, is no place for you, +For we mean mischief here! Yet first will grant +Safe conduct for you to the Palace gates, +Or elsewhere, as you wish + + +PRINCESS + + My wish is nought. +Do what you will with me. But he's not here. + + [Several of them form an escort, and accompany her from the room + and out of the house. Those remaining, now a great throng, begin + searching the room, and in bands invade other parts of the mansion.] + + +SOME CITIZENS (returning) + +It is no use searching. She said he was not here, and she's a woman +of honour. + + +FIRST CITIZEN (drily) + +She's his wife. + + [They begin knocking the furniture to pieces, tearing down the + hangings, trampling on the musical instruments, and kicking holes + through the paintings they have unhung from the walls. These, + with clocks, vases, carvings, and other movables, they throw out + of the window, till the chamber is a scene of utter wreck and + desolation. In the rout a musical box is swept off a table, and + starts playing a serenade as it falls on the floor. Enter the + COUNT OF MONTIJO.] + + +MONTIJO + +Stop, friends; stop this! There is no sense in it-- +It shows but useless spite! I have much to say: +The French Ambassador, de Beauharnais, +Has come, and sought the King. And next Murat, +With thirty thousand men, half cavalry, +Is closing in upon our doomed Madrid! +I know not what he means, this Bonaparte; +He makes pretence to gain us Portugal, +But what want we with her? 'Tis like as not +His aim's to noose us vassals all to him! +The King will abdicate, and shortly too, +As those will live to see who live not long.-- +We have saved our nation from the Favourite, +But who is going to save us from our Friend? + + [The mob desists dubiously and goes out; the musical box upon + the floor plays on, the taper burns to its socket, and the room + becomes wrapt in the shades of night.] + + + +SCENE III + +LONDON: THE MARCHIONESS OF SALISBURY'S + + [A large reception-room is disclosed, arranged for a conversazione. + It is an evening in summer following, and at present the chamber is + empty and in gloom. At one end is an elaborate device, representing + Britannia offering her assistance to Spain, and at the other a + figure of Time crowning the Spanish Patriots' flag with laurel.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + O clarionists of human welterings, + Relate how Europe's madding movement brings + This easeful haunt into the path of palpitating things! + + +RUMOURS (chanting) + + The Spanish King has bowed unto the Fate + Which bade him abdicate: + The sensual Queen, whose passionate caprice + Has held her chambering with "the Prince of Peace," + And wrought the Bourbon's fall, + Holds to her Love in all; + And Bonaparte has ruled that his and he + Henceforth displace the Bourbon dynasty. + + +II + + The Spanish people, handled in such sort, + As chattels of a Court, + Dream dreams of England. Messengers are sent + In secret to the assembled Parliament, + In faith that England's hand + Will stouten them to stand, + And crown a cause which, hold they, bond and free + Must advocate enthusiastically. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + So the Will heaves through Space, and moulds the times, + With mortals for Its fingers! We shall see + Again men's passions, virtues, visions, crimes, + Obey resistlessly + The purposive, unmotived, dominant Thing + Which sways in brooding dark their wayfaring! + + [The reception room is lighted up, and the hostess comes in. There + arrive Ambassadors and their wives, the Dukes and Duchesses of + RUTLAND and SOMERSET, the Marquis and Marchioness of STAFFORD, + the Earls of STAIR, WESTMORELAND, GOWER, ESSEX, Viscounts and + Viscountesses CRANLEY and MORPETH, Viscount MELBOURNE, Lord and + Lady KINNAIRD, Baron de ROLLE, Lady CHARLES GRENVILLE, the Ladies + CAVENDISH, Mr. and Mrs. THOMAS HOPE, MR. GUNNING, MRS. FITZHERBERT, + and many other notable personages. Lastly, she goes to the door + to welcome severally the PRINCE OF WALES, the PRINCES OF FRANCE, + and the PRINCESS CASTELCICALA.] + + +LADY SALISBURY (to the Prince of Wales) + +I am sorry to say, sir, that the Spanish Patriots are not yet +arrived. I doubt not but that they have been delayed by their +ignorance of the town, and will soon be here. + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +No hurry whatever, my dear hostess. Gad, we've enough to talk about! +I understand that the arrangement between our ministers and these +noblemen will include the liberation of Spanish prisoners in this +country, and the providing 'em with arms, to go back and fight for +their independence. + + +LADY SALISBURY + +It will be a blessed event if they do check the career of this +infamous Corsican. I have just heard that that poor foreigner +Guillet de la Gevrilliere, who proposed to Mr. Fox to assassinate +him, died a miserable death a few days ago the Bicetre--probably +by torture, though nobody knows. Really one almost wishes Mr. Fox +had---. O here they are! + + [Enter the Spanish Viscount de MATEROSA, and DON DIEGO de la VEGA. + They are introduced by CAPTAIN HILL and MR. BAGOT, who escort them. + LADY SALISBURY presents them to the PRINCE and others.] + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +By gad, Viscount, we were just talking of 'ee. You had some +adventures in getting to this country? + + +MATEROSA (assisted by Bagot as interpreter) + +Sir, it has indeed been a trying experience for us. But here we +are, impressed by a deep sense of gratitude for the signal marks of +attachment your country has shown us. + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +You represent, practically, the Spanish people? + + +MATEROSA + +We are immediately deputed, sir, +By the Assembly of Asturias, +More sailing soon from other provinces. +We bring official writings, charging us +To clinch and solder Treaties with this realm +That may promote our cause against the foe. +Nextly a letter to your gracious King; +Also a Proclamation, soon to sound +And swell the pulse of the Peninsula, +Declaring that the act by which King Carlos +And his son Prince Fernando cede the throne +To whomsoever Napoleon may appoint, +Being an act of cheatery, not of choice, +Unfetters us from our allegiant oath. + + +MRS. FITZHERBERT + +The usurpation began, I suppose, with the divisions in the Royal +Family? + + +MATEROSA + +Yes, madam, and the protection they foolishly requested from the +Emperor; and their timid intent of flying secretly helped it on. +It was an opportunity he had been awaiting for years. + + +MRS. FITZHERBERT + +All brought about by this man Godoy, Prince of Peace! + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +Dash my wig, mighty much you know about it, Maria! Why, sure, +Boney thought to himself, "This Spain is a pretty place; 'twill +just suit me as an extra acre or two; so here goes." + + +DON DIEGO (aside to Bagot) + +This lady is the Princess of Wales? + + +BAGOT + +Hsh! no, Senor. The Princess lives at large at Kensington and +other places, and has parties of her own, and doesn't keep house +with her husband. This lady is--well, really his wife, you know, +in the opinion of many; but--- + + +DON DIEGO + +Ah! Ladies a little mixed, as they were at our Court! She's the +Pepa Tudo to THIS Prince of Peace? + + +BAGOT + +O no--not exactly that, Senor. + + +DON DIEGO + +Ya, ya. Good. I'll be careful, my friend. You are not saints in +England more than we are in Spain! + + +BAGOT + +We are not. Only you sin with naked faces, and we with masks on. + + +DON DIEGO + +Virtuous country! + + +DUCHESS OF RUTLAND + +It was understood that Ferdinand, Prince of Asturias, was to marry +a French princess, and so unite the countries peacefully? + + +MATEROSA + +It was. And our credulous prince was tempted to meet Napoleon at +Bayonne. Also the poor simple King, and the infatuated Queen, and +Manuel Godoy. + + +DUCHESS OF RUTLAND + +Then Godoy escaped from Aranjuez? + + +MATEROSA + +Yes, by hiding in the garret. Then they all threw themselves +upon Napoleon's protection. In his presence the Queen swore +that the King was not Fernando's father! Altogether they form +a queer little menagerie. What will happen to them nobody knows. + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +And do you wish us to send an army at once? + + +MATEROSA + +What we most want, sir, are arms and ammunition. But we leave the +English Ministry to co-operate in its own wise way, anyhow, so as +to sustain us in resenting these insults from the Tyrant of the +Earth. + + +DUCHESS OF RUTLAND (to the Prince of Wales) + +What sort of aid shall we send, sir? + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +We are going to vote fifty millions, I hear. We'll whack him, +and preserve your noble country for 'ee, Senor Viscount. The +debate thereon is to come off to-morrow. It will be the finest +thing the Commons have had since Pitt's time. Sheridan, who is +open to it, says he and Canning are to be absolutely unanimous; +and, by God, like the parties in his "Critic," when Government +and Opposition do agree, their unanimity is wonderful! Viscount +Materosa, you and your friends must be in the Gallery. O, dammy, +you must! + + +MATEROSA + +Sir, we are already pledged to be there. + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +And hark ye, Senor Viscount. You will then learn what a mighty +fine thing a debate in the English Parliament is! No Continental +humbug there. Not but that the Court has a trouble to keep 'em +in their places sometimes; and I would it had been one in the +Lords instead. However, Sheridan says he has been learning his +speech these two days, and has hunted his father's dictionary +through for some stunning long words.--Now, Maria (to Mrs. +Fitzherbert), I am going home. + + +LADY SALISBURY + +At last, then, England will take her place in the forefront of +this mortal struggle, and in pure disinterestedness fight with +all her strength for the European deliverance. God defend the +right! + + [The Prince of Wales leaves, and the other guests begin to + depart.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + Leave this glib throng to its conjecturing, + And let four burdened weeks uncover what they bring! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The said Debate, to wit; its close in deed; + Till England stands enlisted for the Patriots' needs. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + And transports in the docks gulp down their freight + Of buckled fighting-flesh, and gale-bound, watch and wait. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Till gracious zephyrs shoulder on their sails + To where the brine of Biscay moans its tragic tales. + + +CHORUS + + Bear we, too, south, as we were swallow-vanned, + And mark the game now played there by the Master-hand! + + [The reception-chamber is shut over by the night without, and + the point of view rapidly recedes south, London and its streets + and lights diminishing till they are lost in the distance, and + its noises being succeeded by the babble of the Channel and + Biscay waves.] + + + +SCENE IV + +MADRID AND ITS ENVIRONS + + [The view is from the housetops of the city on a dusty evening + in this July, following a day of suffocating heat. The sunburnt + roofs, warm ochreous walls, and blue shadows of the capital, + wear their usual aspect except for a few feeble attempts at + decoration.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Gazers gather in the central streets, and particularly in the +Puerta del Sol. They show curiosity, but no enthusiasm. Patrols +of French soldiery move up and down in front of the people, and +seem to awe them into quietude. + +There is a discharge of artillery in the outskirts, and the church +bells begin ringing; but the peals dwindle away to a melancholy +jangle, and then to silence. Simultaneously, on the northern +horizon of the arid, unenclosed, and treeless plain swept by the +eye around the city, a cloud of dust arises, and a Royal procession +is seen nearing. It means the new king, JOSEPH BONAPARTE. + +He comes on, escorted by a clanking guard of four thousand Italian +troops, and the brilliant royal carriage is followed by a hundred +coaches bearing his suite. As the procession enters the city many +houses reveal themselves to be closed, many citizens leave the +route and walk elsewhere, while may of those who remain turn their +backs upon the spectacle. + +KING JOSEPH proceeds thus through the Plaza Oriente to the granite- +walled Royal Palace, where he alights and is received by some of +the nobility, the French generals who are in occupation there, and +some clergy. Heralds emerge from the Palace, and hasten to divers +points in the city, where trumpets are blown and the Proclamation +of JOSEPH as KING OF SPAIN is read in a loud voice. It is received +in silence. + +The sunsets, and the curtain falls. + + + +SCENE V + +THE OPEN SEA BETWEEN THE ENGLISH COASTS AND THE SPANISH PENINSULA + + [From high aloft, in the same July weather, and facing east, the + vision swoops over the ocean and its coast-lines, from Cork + Harbour on the extreme left, to Mondego Bay, Portugal, on the + extreme right. Land's End and the Scilly Isles, Ushant and Cape + Finisterre, are projecting features along the middle distance + of the picture, and the English Channel recedes endwise as a + tapering avenue near the centre.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Four groups of moth-like transport ships are discovered silently +skimming this wide liquid plain. The first group, to the right, +is just vanishing behind Cape Mondego to enter Mondego Bay; the +second, in the midst, has come out from Plymouth Sound, and is +preparing to stand down Channel; the third is clearing St. Helen's +point for the same course; and the fourth, much further up Channel, +is obviously to follow on considerably in the rear of the two +preceding. A south-east wind is blowing strong, and, according to +the part of their course reached, they either sail direct with the +wind on their larboard quarter, or labour forward by tacking in +zigzags. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + What are these fleets that cross the sea + From British ports and bays + To coasts that glister southwardly + Behind the dog-day haze? + + +RUMOURS (chanting) + +SEMICHORUS I + + + They are the shipped battalions sent + To bar the bold Belligerent + Who stalks the Dancers' Land. + Within these hulls, like sheep a-pen, + Are packed in thousands fighting-men + And colonels in command. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The fleet that leans each aery fin + Far south, where Mondego mouths in, + Bears Wellesley and his aides therein, + And Hill, and Crauford too; + With Torrens, Ferguson, and Fane, + And majors, captains, clerks, in train, + And those grim needs that appertain-- + The surgeons--not a few! + To them add twelve thousand souls + In linesmen that the list enrolls, + Borne onward by those sheeted poles + As war's red retinue! + + +SEMICHORUS I + + The fleet that clears St. Helen's shore + Holds Burrard, Hope, ill-omened Moore, + Clinton and Paget; while + The transports that pertain to those + Count six-score sail, whose planks enclose + Ten thousand rank and file. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The third-sent ships, from Plymouth Sound, + With Acland, Anstruther, impound + Souls to six thousand strong. + While those, the fourth fleet, that we see + Far back, are lined with cavalry, + And guns of girth, wheeled heavily + To roll the routes along. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Enough, and more, of inventories and names! + Many will fail; many earn doubtful fames. + Await the fruitage of their acts and aims. + + +DUMB SHOW (continuing) + +In the spacious scene visible the far-separated groups of +transports, convoyed by battleships, float on before the wind +almost imperceptibly, like preened duck-feathers across a pond. +The southernmost expedition, under SIR ARTHUR WELLESLEY, soon +comes to anchor within the Bay of Mondego aforesaid, and the +soldiery are indefinitely discernible landing upon the beach +from boats. Simultaneously the division commanded by MOORE, as +yet in the Chops of the channel, is seen to be beaten back by +contrary winds. It gallantly puts to sea again, and being joined +by the division under ANSTRUTHER that has set out from Plymouth, +labours round Ushant, and stands to the south in the track of +WELLESLEY. The rearward transports do the same. + +A moving stratum of summer cloud beneath the point of view covers +up the spectacle like an awning. + + + +SCENE VI + +ST. CLOUD. THE BOUDOIR OF JOSEPHINE + + [It is the dusk of evening in the latter summer of this year, + and from the windows at the back of the stage, which are still + uncurtained, can be seen the EMPRESS with NAPOLEON and some + ladies and officers of the Court playing Catch-me-if-you-can by + torchlight on the lawn. The moving torches throw bizarre lights + and shadows into the apartment, where only a remote candle or two + are burning. + + Enter JOSEPHINE and NAPOLEON together, somewhat out of breath. + With careless suppleness she slides down on a couch and fans + herself. Now that the candle-rays reach her they show her mellow + complexion, her velvety eyes with long lashes, mouth with pointed + corners and excessive mobility beneath its _duvet_, and curls of + dark hair pressed down upon the temples by a gold band. + + The EMPEROR drops into a seat near her, and they remain in silence + till he jumps up, knocks over some nicknacks with his elbow, and + begins walking about the boudoir.] + + +NAPOLEON (with sudden gloom) + +These mindless games are very well, my friend; +But ours to-night marks, not improbably, +The last we play together. + + +JOSEPHINE (starting) + + Can you say it! +Why raise that ghastly nightmare on me now, +When, for a moment, my poor brain had dreams +Denied it all the earlier anxious day? + + +NAPOLEON + +Things that verge nigh, my simple Josephine, +Are not shoved off by wilful winking at. +Better quiz evils with too strained an eye +Than have them leap from disregarded lairs. + + +JOSEPHINE + +Maybe 'tis true, and you shall have it so!-- +Yet there's no joy save sorrow waived awhile. + + +NAPOLEON + +Ha, ha! That's like you. Well, each day by day +I get sour news. Each hour since we returned +From this queer Spanish business at Bayonne, +I have had nothing else; and hence by brooding. + + +JOSEPHINE + +But all went well throughout our touring-time? + + +NAPOLEON + +Not so--behind the scenes. Our arms a Baylen +Have been smirched badly. Twenty thousand shamed +All through Dupont's ill-luck! The selfsame day +My brother Joseph's progress to Madrid +Was glorious as a sodden rocket's fizz! +Since when his letters creak with querulousness. +"Napoleon el chico" 'tis they call him-- +"Napoleon the Little," so he says. +Then notice Austria. Much looks louring there, +And her sly new regard for England grows. +The English, next, have shipped an army down +To Mondego, under one Wellesley, +A man from India, and his march is south +To Lisbon, by Vimiero. On he'll go +And do the devil's mischief ere he is met +By unaware Junot, and chevyed back +To English fogs and fumes! + + +JOSEPHINE + + My dearest one, +You have mused on worse reports with better grace +Full many and many a time. Ah--there is more! . . . +I know; I know! + + +NAPOLEON (kicking away a stool) + + There is, of course; that worm +Time ever keeps in hand for gnawing me!-- +The question of my dynasty--which bites +Closer and closer as the years wheel on. + + +JOSEPHINE + +Of course it's that! For nothing else could hang +My lord on tenterhooks through nights and days;-- +Or rather, not the question, but the tongues +That keep the question stirring. Nought recked you +Of throne-succession or dynastic lines +When gloriously engaged in Italy! +I was your fairy then: they labelled me +Your Lady of Victories; and much I joyed, +Till dangerous ones drew near and daily sowed +These choking tares within your fecund brain,-- +Making me tremble if a panel crack, +Or mouse but cheep, or silent leaf sail down, +And murdering my melodious hours with dreads +That my late happiness, and my late hope, +Will oversoon be knelled! + + +NAPOLEON (genially nearing her) + +But years have passed since first we talked of it, +And now, with loss of dear Hortense's son +Who won me as my own, it looms forth more. +And selfish 'tis in my good Josephine +To blind her vision to the weal of France, +And this great Empire's solidarity. +The grandeur of your sacrifice would gild +Your life's whole shape. + + +JOSEPHINE + + Were I as coarse a wife +As I am limned in English caricature-- +(Those cruel effigies they draw of me!)-- +You could not speak more aridly. + + +NAPOLEON + + Nay, nay! +You know, my comrade, how I love you still +Were there a long-notorious dislike +Betwixt us, reason might be in your dreads +But all earth knows our conjugality. +There's not a bourgeois couple in the land +Who, should dire duty rule their severance, +Could part with scanter scandal than could we. + + +JOSEPHINE (pouting) + +Nevertheless there's one. + + +NAPOLEON + + A scandal? What? + + +JOSEPHINE + +Madame Walewska! How could you pretend +When, after Jena, I'd have come to you, +"The weather was so wild, the roads so rough, +That no one of my sex and delicate nerve +Could hope to face the dangers and fatigues." +Yes--so you wrote me, dear. They hurt not her! + + +NAPOLEON (blandly) + +She was a week's adventure--not worth words! +I say 'tis France.--I have held out for years +Against the constant pressure brought on me +To null this sterile marriage. + + +JOSEPHINE (bursting into sobs) + + Me you blame! +But how know you that you are not the culprit? + + +NAPOLEON + +I have reason so to know--if I must say. +The Polish lady you have chosen to name +Has proved the fault not mine. (JOSEPHINE sobs more violently.) + Don't cry, my cherished; +It is not really amiable of you, +Or prudent, my good little Josephine, +With so much in the balance. + + +JOSEPHINE + + How--know you-- +What may not happen! Wait a--little longer! + + +NAPOLEON (playfully pinching her arm) + +O come, now, my adored! Haven't I already! +Nature's a dial whose shade no hand puts back, +Trick as we may! My friend, you are forty-three +This very year in the world-- (JOSEPHINE breaks out sobbing again.) + And in vain it is +To think of waiting longer; pitiful +To dream of coaxing shy fecundity +To an unlikely freak by physicking +With superstitious drugs and quackeries +That work you harm, not good. The fact being so, +I have looked it squarely down--against my heart! +Solicitations voiced repeatedly +At length have shown the soundness of their shape, +And left me no denial. You, at times, +My dear one, have been used to handle it. +My brother Joseph, years back, frankly gave +His honest view that something should be done; +And he, you well know, shows no ill tinct +In his regard of you. + + +JOSEPHINE + + And what princess? + + +NAPOLEON + +For wiving with? No thought was given to that, +She shapes as vaguely as the Veiled-- + + +JOSEPHINE + + No, no; +It's Alexander's sister, I'm full sure!-- +But why this craze for home-made manikins +And lineage mere of flesh? You have said yourself +It mattered not. Great Caesar, you declared, +Sank sonless to his rest; was greater deemed +Even for the isolation. Frederick +Saw, too, no heir. It is the fate of such, +Often, to be denied the common hope +As fine for fulness in the rarer gifts +That Nature yields them. O my husband long, +Will you not purge your soul to value best +That high heredity from brain to brain +Which supersedes mere sequence of blood, +That often vary more from sire to son +Than between furthest strangers! . . . +Napoleon's offspring in his like must lie; +The second of his line be he who shows +Napoleon's soul in later bodiment, +The household father happening as he may! + + +NAPOLEON (smilingly wiping her eyes) + +Little guessed I my dear would prove her rammed +With such a charge of apt philosophy +When tutoring me gay arts in earlier times! +She who at home coquetted through the years +In which I vainly penned her wishful words +To come and comfort me in Italy, +Might, faith, have urged it then effectually! +But never would you stir from Paris joys, (With some bitterness.) +And so, when arguments like this could move me, +I heard them not; and get them only now +When their weight dully falls. But I have said +'Tis not for me, but France--Good-bye an hour. (Kissing her.) +I must dictate some letters. This new move +Of England on Madrid may mean some trouble. +Come, dwell not gloomily on this cold need +Of waiving private joy for policy. +We are but thistle-globes on Heaven's high gales, +And whither blown, or when, or how, or why, +Can choose us not at all! . . . +I'll come to you anon, dear: staunch Roustan +Will light me in. + + [Exit NAPOLEON. The scene shuts in shadow.] + + + +SCENE VII + +VIMIERO + + [A village among the hills of Portugal, about fifty miles north + of Lisbon. Around it are disclosed, as ten on Sunday morning + strikes, a blue army of fourteen thousand men in isolated columns, + and red army of eighteen thousand in line formation, drawn up in + order of battle. The blue army is a French one under JUNOT; the + other an English one under SIR ARTHUR WELLESLEY--portion of that + recently landed. + + The August sun glares on the shaven faces, white gaiters, and + white cross-belts of the English, who are to fight for their + lives while sweating under a quarter-hundredweight in knapsack + and pouches, and with firelocks heavy as putlogs. They occupy + a group of heights, but their position is one of great danger, + the land abruptly terminating two miles behind their backs in + lofty cliffs overhanging the Atlantic. The French occupy the + valleys in the English front, and this distinction between the + two forces strikes the eye--the red army is accompanied by scarce + any cavalry, while the blue is strong in that area.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +The battle is begun with alternate moves that match each other like +those of a chess opening. JUNOT makes an oblique attack by moving +a division to his right; WELLESLEY moves several brigades to his +left to balance it. + +A column of six thousand French then climbs the hill against the +English centre, and drives in those who are planted there. The +English artillery checks its adversaries, and the infantry recover +and charge the baffled French down the slopes. Meanwhile the +latter's cavalry and artillery are attacking the village itself, +and, rushing on a few squadrons of English dragoons stationed there, +cut them to pieces. A dust is raised by this ado, and moans of men +and shrieks of horses are heard. Close by the carnage the little +Maceira stream continues to trickle unconcernedly to the sea. + +On the English left five thousand French infantry, having ascended +to the ridge and maintained a stinging musket-fire as sharply +returned, are driven down by the bayonets of six English regiments. +Thereafter a brigade of the French, the northernmost, finding that +the others have pursued to the bottom and are resting after the +effort, surprise them and bayonet them back to their original summit. +The see-saw is continued by the recovery of the English, who again +drive their assailants down. + +The French army pauses stultified, till, the columns uniting, they +fall back toward the opposite hills. The English, seeing that their +chance has come, are about to pursue and settle the fortunes of the +day. But a messenger dispatched from a distant group is marked +riding up to the large-nosed man with a telescope and an Indian +sword who, his staff around him, has been directing the English +movements. He seems astonished at the message, appears to resent +it, and pauses with a gloomy look. But he sends countermands to his +generals, and the pursuit ends abortively. + +The French retreat without further molestation by a circuitous march +into the great road to Torres Vedras by which they came, leaving +nearly two thousand dead and wounded on the slopes they have quitted. + +Dumb Show ends and the curtain draws. + + + + +ACT THIRD + +SCENE I + +SPAIN. A ROAD NEAR ASTORGA + + [The eye of the spectator rakes the road from the interior of a + cellar which opens upon it, and forms the basement of a deserted + house, the roof doors, and shutters of which have been pulled down + and burnt for bivouac fires. The season is the beginning of + January, and the country is covered with a sticky snow. The road + itself is intermittently encumbered with heavy traffic, the surface + being churned to a yellow mud that lies half knee-deep, and at the + numerous holes in the track forming still deeper quagmires. + + In the gloom of the cellar are heaps of damp straw, in which + ragged figures are lying half-buried, many of the men in the + uniform of English regiments, and the women and children in clouts + of all descriptions, some being nearly naked. At the back of the + cellar is revealed, through a burst door, an inner vault, where + are discernible some wooden-hooped wine-casks; in one sticks a + gimlet, and the broaching-cork of another has been driven in. + The wine runs into pitchers, washing-basins, shards, chamber- + vessels, and other extemporized receptacles. Most of the inmates + are drunk; some to insensibility. + + So far as the characters are doing anything they are contemplating + almost incessant traffic outside, passing in one direction. It + includes a medley of stragglers from the Marquis of ROMANA'S + Spanish forces and the retreating English army under SIR JOHN + MOORE--to which the concealed deserters belong.] + + +FIRST DESERTER + +Now he's one of the Eighty-first, and I'd gladly let that poor blade +know that we've all that man can wish for here--good wine and buxom +women. But if I do, we shan't have room for ourselves--hey? + + [He signifies a man limping past with neither fire-lock nor + knapsack. Where the discarded knapsack has rubbed for weeks + against his shoulder-blades the jacket and shirt are fretted + away, leaving his skin exposed.] + + +SECOND DESERTER + +He may be the Eighty-firsht, or th' Eighty-second; but what I say is, +without fear of contradiction, I wish to the Lord I was back in old +Bristol again. I'd sooner have a nipperkin of our own real "Bristol +milk" than a mash-tub full of this barbarian wine! + + +THIRD DESERTER + +'Tis like thee to be ungrateful, after putting away such a skinful +on't. I am as much Bristol as thee, but would as soon be here as +there. There ain't near such willing women, that are strict +respectable too, there as hereabout, and no open cellars.-- As +there's many a slip in this country I'll have the rest of my +allowance now. + + [He crawls on his elbows to one of the barrels, and turning on his + back lets the wine run down his throat.] + + +FORTH DESERTER (to a fifth, who is snoring) + +Don't treat us to such a snoaching there, mate. Here's some more +coming, and they'll sight us if we don't mind! + + [Enter without a straggling flock of military objects, some with + fragments of shoes on, others bare-footed, many of the latter's + feet bleeding. The arms and waists of some are clutched by women + as tattered and bare-footed as themselves. They pass on. + + The Retreat continues. More of ROMANA'S Spanish limp along in + disorder; then enters a miscellaneous group of English cavalry + soldiers, some on foot, some mounted, the rearmost of the latter + bestriding a shoeless foundered creature whose neck is vertebrae + and mane only. While passing it falls from exhaustion; the trooper + extricates himself and pistols the animal through the head. He + and the rest pass on.] + + +FIRST DESERTER (a new plashing of feet being heard) + +Here's something more in order, or I am much mistaken. He cranes +out.) Yes, a sergeant of the Forty-third, and what's left of their +second battalion. And, by God, not far behind I see shining helmets. +'Tis a whole squadron of French dragoons! + + [Enter the sergeant. He has a racking cough, but endeavours, by + stiffening himself up, to hide how it is wasting away his life. + He halts, and looks back, till the remains of the Forty-third are + abreast, to the number of some three hundred, about half of whom + are crippled invalids, the other half being presentable and armed + soldiery.' + + +SERGEANT + +Now show yer nerve, and be men. If you die to-day you won't have to +die to-morrow. Fall in! (The miscellany falls in.) All invalids and +men without arms march ahead as well as they can. Quick--maw-w-w-ch! +(Exeunt invalids, etc.) Now! Tention! Shoulder-r-r--fawlocks! (Order +obeyed.) + + [The sergeant hastily forms these into platoons, who prime and load, + and seem preternaturally changed from what they were into alert + soldiers. + + Enter French dragoons at the left-back of the scene. The rear + platoon of the Forty-third turns, fires, and proceeds. The next + platoon covering them does the same. This is repeated several + times, staggering the pursuers. Exeunt French dragoons, giving + up the pursuit. The coughing sergeant and the remnant of the + Forty-third march on.] + + +FOURTH DESERTER (to a woman lying beside him) + +What d'ye think o' that, my honey? It fairly makes me a man again. +Come, wake up! We must be getting along somehow. (He regards the +woman more closely.) Why--my little chick? Look here, friends. +(They look, and the woman is found to be dead.) If I didn't think +that her poor knees felt cold! . . . And only an hour ago I swore +to marry her! + + [They remain silent. The Retreat continues in the snow without, + now in the form of a file of ox-carts, followed by a mixed rabble + of English and Spanish, and mules and muleteers hired by English + officers to carry their baggage. The muleteers, looking about + and seeing that the French dragoons gave been there, cut the bands + which hold on the heavy packs, and scamper off with their mules.] + + +A VOICE (behind) + +The Commander-in-Chief is determined to maintain discipline, and +they must suffer. No more pillaging here. It is the worst case +of brutality and plunder that we have had in this wretched time! + + [Enter an English captain of hussars, a lieutenant, a guard of + about a dozen, and three men as prisoner.] + + +CAPTAIN + +If they choose to draw lots, only one need be made an example of. +But they must be quick about it. The advance-guard of the enemy +is not far behind. + + [The three prisoners appear to draw lots, and the one on whom the + lot falls is blindfolded. Exeunt the hussars behind a wall, with + carbines. A volley is heard and something falls. The wretched + in the cellar shudder.] + + +FOURTH DESERTER + +'Tis the same for us but for this heap of straw. Ah--my doxy is the +only one of us who is safe and sound! (He kisses the dead woman.) + + [Retreat continues. A train of six-horse baggage-waggons lumbers + past, a mounted sergeant alongside. Among the baggage lie wounded + soldiers and sick women.] + + +SERGEANT OF THE WAGGON-TRAIN + +If so be they are dead, ye may as well drop 'em over the tail-board. +'Tis no use straining the horses unnecessary. + + [Waggons halt. Two of the wounded who have just died are taken + out, laid down by the roadside, and some muddy snow scraped over + them. Exeunt waggons and sergeant. + + An interval. More English troops pass on horses, mostly shoeless + and foundered. + + Enter SIR JOHN MOORE and officers. MOORE appears on the pale + evening light as a handsome man, far on in the forties, the + orbits of his dark eyes showing marks of deep anxiety. He is + talking to some of his staff with vehement emphasis and gesture. + They cross the scene and go on out of sight, and the squashing + of their horses' hoofs in the snowy mud dies away.] + + +FIFTH DESERTER (incoherently in his sleep) + +Poise fawlocks--open pans--right hands to pouch--handle ca'tridge-- +bring it--quick motion-bite top well off--prime--shut pans--cast +about--load--- + + +FIRST DESERTER (throwing a shoe at the sleeper) + +Shut up that! D'ye think you are a 'cruity in the awkward squad +still? + + +SECOND DESERTER + +I don't know what he thinks, but I know what I feel! Would that I +were at home in England again, where there's old-fashioned tipple, +and a proper God A'mighty instead of this eternal 'Ooman and baby; +--ay, at home a-leaning against old Bristol Bridge, and no questions +asked, and the winter sun slanting friendly over Baldwin Street as +'a used to do! 'Tis my very belief, though I have lost all sure +reckoning, that if I were there, and in good health, 'twould be New +Year's day about now. What it is over here I don't know. Ay, to- +night we should be a-setting in the tap of the "Adam and Eve"-- +lifting up the tune of "The Light o' the Moon." 'Twer a romantical +thing enough. 'A used to go som'at like this (he sings in a nasal +tone):-- + + "O I thought it had been day, + And I stole from here away; + But it proved to be the light o' the moon!" + + [Retreat continues, with infantry in good order. Hearing the + singing, one of the officers looks around, and detaching a patrol + enters the ruined house with the file of men, the body of soldiers + marching on. The inmates of the cellar bury themselves in the + straw. The officer peers about, and seeing no one prods the straw + with his sword. + + +VOICES (under the straw) + +Oh! Hell! Stop it! We'll come out! Mercy! Quarter! + + [The lurkers are uncovered.] + + +OFFICER + +If you are well enough to sing bawdy songs, you are well enough to +march. So out of it--or you'll be shot, here and now! + + +SEVERAL + +You may shoot us, captain, or the French may shoot us, or the devil +may take us; we don't care which! Only we can't stir. Pity the +women, captain, but do what you will with us! + + [The searchers pass over the wounded, and stir out those capable + of marching, both men and women, so far as they discover them. + They are pricked on by the patrol. Exeunt patrol and deserters + in its charge. + + Those who remain look stolidly at the highway. The English Rear- + guard of cavalry crosses the scene and passes out. An interval. + It grows dusk.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Quaint poesy, and real romance of war! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Mock on, Shade, if thou wilt! But others find + Poesy ever lurk where pit-pats poor mankind! + + [The scene is cloaked in darkness.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE SAME + + [It is nearly midnight. The fugitives who remain in the cellar + having slept off the effects of the wine, are awakened by a new + tramping of cavalry, which becomes more and more persistent. It + is the French, who now fill the road. The advance-guard having + passed by, DELABORDE'S division, LORGE'S division, MERLE'S + division, and others, successively cross the gloom. + + Presently come the outlines of the Imperial Guard, and then, with + a start, those in hiding realize their situation, and are wide + awake. NAPOLEON enters with his staff. He has just been overtaken + by a courier, and orders those round him to halt.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Let there a fire be lit: Ay, here and now. +The lines within these letters brook no pause +In mastering their purport. + + [Some of the French approach the ruined house and, appropriating + what wood is still left there, heap it by the roadside and set it + alight. A mixed rain and snow falls, and the sputtering flames + throw a glare all round.] + + +SECOND DESERTER (under his voice) + +We be shot corpses! Ay, faith, we be! Why didn't I stick to +England, and true doxology, and leave foreign doxies and their +wine alone! . . . Mate, can ye squeeze another shardful from the +cask there, for I feel my time is come! . . . O that I had but the +barrel of that firelock I throwed away, and that wasted powder to +prime and load! This bullet I chaw to squench my hunger would do +the rest! . . . Yes, I could pick him off now! + + +FIRST DESERTER + +You lie low with your picking off, or he may pick off you! Thank +God the babies are gone. Maybe we shan't be noticed, if we've but +the courage to do nothing, and keep hid. + + [NAPOLEON dismounts, approaches the fire, and looks around.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Another of their dead horses here, I see. + + +OFFICER + +Yes, sire. We have counted eighteen hundred odd +From Benavente hither, pistoled thus. +Some we'd to finish for them: headlong haste +Spared them no time for mercy to their brutes. +One-half their cavalry now tramps afoot. + + +NAPOLEON + +And what's the tale of waggons we've picked up? + + +OFFICER + +Spanish and all abandoned, some four hundred; +Of magazines and firelocks, full ten load; +And stragglers and their girls a numerous crew. + + +NAPOLEON + +Ay, devil--plenty those! Licentious ones +These English, as all canting peoples are.-- +And prisoners? + + +OFFICER + + Seven hundred English, sire; +Spaniards five thousand more. + + +NAPOLEON + + 'Tis not amiss. +To keep the new year up they run away! +(He soliloquizes as he begins tearing open the dispatches.) +Nor Pitt nor Fox displayed such blundering +As glares in this campaign! It is, indeed, +Enlarging Folly to Foolhardiness +To combat France by land! But how expect +Aught that can claim the name of government +From Canning, Castlereagh, and Perceval, +Caballers all--poor sorry politicians-- +To whom has fallen the luck of reaping in +The harvestings of Pitt's bold husbandry. + + [He unfolds a dispatch, and looks for something to sit on. A cloak + is thrown over a log, and he settles to reading by the firelight. + The others stand round. The light, crossed by the snow-flakes, + flickers on his unhealthy face and stoutening figure. He sinks + into the rigidity of profound thought, till his features lour.] + +So this is their reply! They have done with me! +Britain declines negotiating further-- +Flouts France and Russia indiscriminately. +"Since one dethrones and keeps as prisoners +The most legitimate kings"--that means myself-- +"The other suffers their unworthy treatment +For sordid interests"--that's for Alexander! . . . +And what is Georgy made to say besides?-- +"Pacific overtures to us are wiles +Woven to unnerve the generous nations round +Lately escaped the galling yoke of France, +Or waiting so to do. Such, then, being seen, +These tentatives must be regarded now +As finally forgone; and crimson war +Be faced to its fell worst, unflinchingly." +--The devil take their lecture! What am I, +That England should return such insolence? + + [He jumps up, furious, and walks to and fro beside the fire. + By and by cooling he sits down again.] + +Now as to hostile signs in Austria. . . . +(He breaks another seal and reads.) +Ah,--swords to cross with her some day in spring! +Thinking me cornered over here in Spain +She speaks without disguise, the covert pact +'Twixt her and England owning now quite frankly, +Careless how works its knowledge upon me. +She, England, Germany: well--I can front them! +That there is no sufficient force of French +Between the Elbe and Rhine to prostrate her, +Let new and terrible experience +Soon disillude her of! Yea; she may arm: +The opportunity she late let slip +Will not subserve her now! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Has he no heart-hints that this Austrian court, + Whereon his mood takes mould so masterful, + Is rearing naively in its nursery-room + A future wife for him? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Thou dost but guess it, +And how should his heart know? + + +NAPOLEON (opening and reading another dispatch) + + Now eastward. Ohe!-- +The Orient likewise looms full somberly. . . . +The Turk declines pacifically to yield +What I have promised Alexander. Ah! . . . +As for Constantinople being his prize +I'll see him frozen first. His flight's too high! +And showing that I think so makes him cool. (Rises.) +Is Soult the Duke Dalmatia yet at hand? + + +OFFICER + +He has arrived along the Leon road +Just now, your Majesty; and only waits +The close of your perusals. + + [Enter SOULT, who is greeted by NAPOLEON.] + + +FIRST DESERTER + +Good Lord deliver us from all great men, and take me back again to +humble life! That's Marshal Soult the Duke of Dalmatia! + + +SECOND DESERTER + +The Duke of Damnation for our poor rear, by the look on't! + + +FIRST DESERTER + +Yes--he'll make 'em rub their poor rears before he has done with +'em! But we must overtake 'em to-morrow by a cross-cut, please God! + + +NAPOLEON (pointing to the dispatches) + +Here's matter enough for me, Duke, and to spare. +The ominous contents are like the threats +The ancient prophets dealt rebellious Judah! +Austria we soon shall have upon our hands, +And England still is fierce for fighting on,-- +Strange humour in a concord-loving land! +So now I must to Paris straight away-- +At least, to Valladolid; so as to stand +More apt for couriers than I do out here +In this far western corner, and to mark +The veerings of these new developments, +And blow a counter-breeze. . . . + +Then, too, there's Lannes, still sweating at the siege +Of sullen Zaragoza as 'twere hell. +Him I must further counsel how to close +His twice too tedious battery.--You, then, Soult-- +Ney is not yet, I gather, quite come up? + + +SOULT + +He's near, sire, on the Benavente road; +But some hours to the rear I reckon, still. + + +NAPOLEON (pointing to the dispatches) + +Him I'll direct to come to your support +In this pursuit and harassment of Moore +Wherein you take my place. You'll follow up +And chase the flying English to the sea. +Bear hard on them, the bayonet at their loins. +With Merle's and Mermet's corps just gone ahead, +And Delaborde's, and Heudelet's here at hand. +While Lorge's and Lahoussaye's picked dragoons +Will follow, and Franceschi's cavalry. +To Ney I am writing, in case of need, +He will support with Marchand and Mathieu.-- +Your total thus of seventy thousand odd, +Ten thousand horse, and cannon to five score, +Should near annihilate this British force, +And carve a triumph large in history. +(He bends over the fire and makes some notes rapidly.) +I move into Astorga; then turn back, +(Though only in my person do I turn) +And leave to you the destinies of Spain. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + More turning may be here than he design. + In this small, sudden, swift turn backward, he + Suggests one turning from his apogee! + + [The characters disperse, the fire sinks, and snowflakes and + darkness blot out all.] + + + +SCENE III + +BEFORE CORUNA + + [The town, harbour, and hills at the back are viewed from an + aerial point to the north, over the lighthouse known as the + Tower of Hercules, rising at the extremity of the tongue of + land on which La Coruna stands, the open ocean being in the + spectator's rear. + + In the foreground the most prominent feature is the walled old + town, with its white towers and houses, shaping itself aloft + over the harbour. The new town, and its painted fronts, show + bright below, even on this cloudy winter afternoon. Further + off, behind the harbour--now crowded with British transports + of all sizes--is a series of low broken hills, intersected by + hedges and stone walls. + + A mile behind these low inner hills is beheld a rocky chain of + outer and loftier heights that completely command the former. + Nothing behind them is seen but grey sky. + + +DUMB SHOW + +On the inner hills aforesaid the little English army--a pathetic +fourteen thousand of foot only--is just deploying into line: HOPE'S +division is on the left, BAIRD'S to the right. PAGET with the +reserve is in the hollow to the left behind them; and FRASER'S +division still further back shapes out on a slight rise to the right. + +This harassed force now appears as if composed of quite other than +the men observed in the Retreat insubordinately straggling along +like vagabonds. Yet they are the same men, suddenly stiffened and +grown amenable to discipline by the satisfaction of standing to the +enemy at last. They resemble a double palisade of red stakes, the +only gaps being those that the melancholy necessity of scant numbers +entails here and there. + +Over the heads of these red men is beheld on the outer hills the +twenty thousand French that have been pushed along the road at the +heels of the English by SOULT. They have an ominous superiority, +both in position and in their abundance of cavalry and artillery, +over the slender lines of English foot. The left of this background, +facing HOPE, is made up of DELABORDE'S and MERLE'S divisions, while +in a deadly arc round BAIRD, from whom they are divided only by the +village of Elvina, are placed MERMET'S division, LAHOUSSAYE'S and +LORGE'S dragoons, FRANCESCHI'S cavalry, and, highest up of all, a +formidable battery of eleven great guns that rake the whole British +line. + +It is now getting on for two o'clock, and a stir of activity has +lately been noticed along the French front. Three columns are +discerned descending from their position, the first towards the +division of SIR DAVID BAIRD, the weakest point in the English line, +the next towards the centre, the third towards the left. A heavy +cannonade from the battery supports this advance. + +The clash ensues, the English being swept down in swathes by the +enemy's artillery. The opponents meet face to face at the village +in the valley between them, and the fight there grows furious. + +SIR JOHN MOORE is seen galloping to the front under the gloomy sky. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I seem to vision in San Carlos' garden, + That rises salient in the upper town, + His name, and date, and doing, set within + A filmy outline like a monument, + Which yet is but the insubstantial air. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Read visions as conjectures; not as more. + + +When MOORE arrives at the front, FRASER and PAGET move to the right, +where the English are most sorely pressed. A grape-shot strikes +off BAIRD'S arm. There is a little confusion, and he is borne to +the rear; while MAJOR NAPIER disappears, a prisoner. + +Intelligence of these misfortunes is brought to SIR JOHN MOORE. +He goes further forward, and precedes in person the Forty-second +regiment and a battalion of the Guards who, with fixed bayonets, +bear the enemy back, MOORE'S gestures in cheering them being +notably energetic. Pursuers, pursued, and SIR JOHN himself pass +out of sight behind the hill. Dumb Show ends. + + [The point of vision descends to the immediate rear of the + English position. The early January evening has begun to spread + its shades, and shouts of dismay are heard from behind the hill + over which MOORE and the advancing lines have vanished. + + Straggling soldiers cross in the gloom.] + + +FIRST STRAGGLER + +He's struck by a cannon-ball, that I know; but he's not killed, +that I pray God A'mighty. + + +SECOND STRAGGLER + +Better he were. His shoulder is knocked to a bag of splinters. +As Sir David was wownded, Sir John was anxious that the right +should not give way, and went forward to keep it firm. + + +FIRST STRAGGLER + +He didn't keep YOU firm, howsomever. + + +SECOND STRAGGLER + +Nor you, for that matter. + + +FIRST STRAGGLER + +Well, 'twas a serious place for a man with no priming-horn, and +a character to lose, so I judged it best to fall to the rear by +lying down. A man can't fight by the regulations without his +priming-horn, and I am none of your slovenly anyhow fighters. + + +SECOND STRAGGLER + +'Nation, having dropped my flit-pouch, I was the same. If you'd +had your priming-horn, and I my flints, mind ye, we should have +been there now? Then, forty-whory, that we are not is the fault +o' Government for not supplying new ones from the reserve! + + +FIRST STRAGGLER + +What did he say as he led us on? + + +SECOND STRAGGLER + +"Forty-second, remember Egypt!" I heard it with my own ears. Yes, +that was his strict testament. + + +FIRST STRAGGLER + +"Remember Egypt." Ay, and I do, for I was there! . . . Upon my +salvation, here's for back again, whether or no! + + +SECOND STRAGGLER + +But here. "Forty-second, remember Egypt," he said in the very +eye of that French battery playing through us. And the next omen +was that he was struck off his horse, and fell on his back to the +ground. I remembered Egypt, and what had just happened too, so +thorough well that I remembered the way over this wall!--Captain +Hardinge, who was close to him, jumped off his horse, and he and +one in the ranks lifted him, and are now bringing him along. + + +FIRST STRAGGLER + +Nevertheless, here's for back again, come what will. Remember +Egypt! Hurrah! + + [Exit First straggler. Second straggler ponders, then suddenly + follows First. Enter COLONEL ANDERSON and others hastily.] + + +AN OFFICER + +Now fetch a blanker. He must be carried in. + + [Shouts heard.] + + +COLONEL ANDERSON + +That means we are gaining ground! Had fate but left +This last blow undecreed, the hour had shone +A star amid these girdling days of gloom! + + [Exit. Enter in the obscurity six soldiers of the Forty-second + bearing MOORE on their joined hands. CAPTAIN HARDINGE walks + beside and steadies him. He is temporarily laid down in the + shelter of a wall, his left shoulder being pounded away, the arm + dangling by a shred of flesh. + + Enter COLONEL GRAHAM and CAPTAIN WOODFORD.] + + +GRAHAM + +The wound is more than serious, Woodford, far. +Ride for a surgeon--one of those, perhaps, +Who tend Sir David Baird? (Exit Captain Woodford.) +His blood throbs forth so fast, that I have dark fears +He'll drain to death ere anything can be done! + + +HARDINGE + +I'll try to staunch it--since no skill's in call. + + [He takes off his sash and endeavours to bind the wound with it. + MOORE smiles and shakes his head.] + +There's not much checking it! Then rent's too gross. +A dozen lives could pass that thoroughfare! + + [Enter a soldier with a blanket. They lift MOORE into it. During + the operation the pommel of his sword, which he still wears, is + accidentally thrust into the wound.] + +I'll loose the sword--it bruises you, Sir John. + + [He begins to unbuckle it.] + + +MOORE + +No. Let it be! One hurt more matters not. +I wish it to go off the field with me. + + +HARDINGE + +I like the sound of that. It augurs well +For your much-hoped recovery. + + +MOORE (looking sadly at his wound) + + Hardinge, no: +Nature is nonplussed there! My shoulder's gone, +And this left side laid open to my lungs. +There's but a brief breath now for me, at most. . . . +Could you--move me along--that I may glimpse +Still how the battle's going? + + +HARDINGE + + Ay, Sir John-- +A few yard higher up, where we can see. + + [He is borne in the blanket a little way onward, and lifted so + that he can view the valley and the action.] + + +MOORE (brightly) + +They seem to be advancing. Yes, it is so! + + [Enter SIR JOHN HOPE.] + +Ah, Hope!--I am doing badly here enough; +But they are doing rarely well out there. (Presses HOPE'S hand.) +Don't leave! my speech may flag with this fierce pain, +But you can talk to me.--Are the French checked? + + +HOPE + +My dear friend, they are borne back steadily. + + +MOORE (his voice weakening) + +I hope England--will be satisfied-- +I hope my native land--will do me justice! . . . +I shall be blamed for sending Craufurd off +Along the Orense road. But had I not, +Bonaparte would have headed us that way. . . . + + +HOPE + +O would that Soult had but accepted battle +By Lugo town! We should have crushed him there. + + +MOORE + +Yes . . . yes.--But it has never been my lot +To owe much to good luck; nor was it then. +Good fortune has been mine, but (bitterly) mostly so +By the exhaustion of all shapes of bad! . . . +Well, this does not become a dying man; +And others have been chastened more than I +By Him who holds us in His hollowed hand! . . . + +I grieve for Zaragoza, if, as said, +The siege goes sorely with her, which it must. +I heard when at Dahagun that late day +That she was holding out heroically. +But I must leave such now.--You'll see my friends +As early as you can? Tell them the whole; +Say to my mother. . . . (His voice fails.) +Hope, Hope, I have so much to charge you with, +But weakness clams my tongue! . . . If I must die +Without a word with Stanhope, ask him, Hope, +To--name me to his sister. You may know +Of what there was between us? . . . +Is Colonel Graham well, and all my aides? +My will I have made--it is in Colborne's charge +With other papers. + + +HOPE + + He's now coming up. + + [Enter MAJOR COLBORNE, principal aide-de-camp.] + + +MOORE + +Are the French beaten, Colborne, or repulsed? +Alas! you see what they have done too me! + + +COLBORNE + +I do, Sir John: I am more than sad thereat! +In brief time now the surgeon will be here. +The French retreat--pushed from Elvina far. + + +MOORE + +That's good! Is Paget anywhere about? + + +COLBORNE + +He's at the front, Sir John. + + +MOORE + + Remembrance to him! + + [Enter two surgeons.] + +Ah, doctors,--you can scarcely mend up me.-- +And yet I feel so tough--I have feverish fears +My dying will waste a long and tedious while; +But not too long, I hope! + + +SURGEONS (after a hasty examination) + + You must be borne +In to your lodgings instantly, Sir John. +Please strive to stand the motion--if you can; +They will keep step, and bear you steadily. + + +MOORE + +Anything. . . . Surely fainter ebbs that fire? + + +COLBORNE + +Yes: we must be advancing everywhere: +Colbert their General, too, they have lost, I learn. + + [They lift him by stretching their sashes under the blanket, and + begin moving off. A light waggon enters.] + + +MOORE + +Who's in that waggon? + + +HARDINGE + + Colonel Wynch, Sir John. +He's wounded, but he urges you to take it. + + +MOORE + +No. I will not. This suits. . . . Don't come with me; +There's more for you to do out here as yet. (Cheerful shouts.) +A-ha! 'Tis THIS way I have wished to die! + + [Exeunt slowly in the twilight MOORE, bearers, surgeons, etc., + towards Coruna. The scene darkens.] + + + +SCENE IV + +CORUNA. NEAR THE RAMPARTS + + [It is just before dawn on the following morning, objects being + still indistinct. The features of the elevated enclosure of San + Carlos can be recognized in dim outline, and also those of the + Old Town of Coruna around, though scarcely a lamp is shining. + The numerous transports in the harbour beneath have still their + riding-lights burning. + + In a nook of the town walls a lantern glimmers. Some English + soldiers of the Ninth regiment are hastily digging a grave there + with extemporized tools.] + + +A VOICE (from the gloom some distance off) + +"I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that +believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." + + [The soldiers look up, and see entering at the further end of the + patch of ground a slow procession. It advances by the light of + lanterns in the hands of some members of it. At moments the fitful + rays fall upon bearers carrying a coffinless body rolled in a + blanket, with a military cloak roughly thrown over by way of pall. + It is brought towards the incomplete grave, and followed by HOPE, + GRAHAM, ANDERSON, COLBORNE, HARDINGE, and several aides-de-camp, + a chaplain preceding.] + + +FIRST SOLDIER + +They are here, almost as quickly as ourselves. +There is no time to dig much deeper now: +Level a bottom just as far's we've got. +He'll couch as calmly in this scrabbled hole +As in a royal vault! + + +SECOND SOLDIER + +Would it had been a foot deeper, here among foreigners, with strange +manures manufactured out of no one knows what! Surely we can give +him another six inches? + + +FIRST SOLDIER + +There is no time. Just make the bottom true. + + [The meagre procession approaches the spot, and waits while the + half-dug grave is roughly finished by the men of the Ninth. + They step out of it, and another of them holds a lantern to the + chaplain's book. The winter day slowly dawns.] + + +CHAPLAIN + +"Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is +full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he +fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay." + + [A gun is fired from the French battery not far off; then another. + The ships in the harbour take in their riding lights.] + + +COLBORNE (in a low voice) + +I knew that dawn would see them open fire. + + +HOPE + +We must perforce make swift use of out time. +Would we had closed our too sad office sooner! + + [As the body is lowered another discharge echoes. They glance + gloomily at the heights where the French are ranged, and then + into the grave.] + + +CHAPLAIN + +"We therefore commit his body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes +to ashes, dust to dust." (Another gun.) + + [A spent ball falls not far off. They put out their lanterns. + Continued firing, some shot splashing into the harbour below + them.] + + +HOPE + +In mercy to the living, who are thrust +Upon our care for their deliverance, +And run much hazard till they are embarked, +We must abridge these duties to the dead, +Who will not mind be they abridged or no. + + +HARDINGE + +And could he mind, would be the man to bid it. . . . + + +HOPE + +We shall do well, then, curtly to conclude +These mutilated prayers--our hurried best!-- +And what's left unsaid, feel. + + +CHAPLAIN (his words broken by the cannonade) + +" . . . . We give Thee hearty thanks for that it hath pleased +Thee to deliver this our brother out of the miseries of this +sinful world. . . . Who also hath taught us not to be sorry, as +men without hope, for them that sleep in Him. . . . Grant this, +through Jesus Christ our Mediator and Redeemer." + + +OFFICERS AND SOLDIERS + +Amen! + + [The diggers of the Ninth hastily fill in the grave, and the scene + shuts as the mournful figures retire.] + + + +SCENE V + +VIENNA. A CAFE IN THE STEPHANS-PLATZ + + [An evening between light and dark is disclosed, some lamps being + lit. The huge body and tower of St. Stephen's rise into the sky + some way off, the western gleam still touching the upper stonework. + Groups of people are seated at the tables, drinking and reading + the newspapers. One very animated group, which includes an + Englishman, is talking loudly. A citizen near looks up from his + newspaper.] + + +CITIZEN (to the Englishman) + +I read, sir, here, the troubles you discuss +Of your so gallant army under Moore. +His was a spirit baffled but not quelled, +And in his death there shone a stoicism +That lent retreat the rays of victory. + + +ENGLISHMAN + +It was so. While men chide they will admire him, +And frowning, praise. I could nigh prophesy +That the unwonted crosses he has borne +In his career of sharp vicissitude +Will tinct his story with a tender charm, +And grant the memory of his strenuous feats +As long a lease within the minds of men +As conquerors hold there.--Does the sheet give news +Of how the troops reached home? + + +CITIZEN (looking up again at the paper) + + Yes; from your press +It quotes that they arrived at Plymouth Sound +Mid dreadful weather and much suffering. +It states they looked the very ghosts of men, +So heavily had hunger told on them, +And the fatigues and toils of the retreat. +Several were landed dead, and many died +As they were borne along. At Portsmouth, too, +Sir David Baird, still helpless from his wound, +Was carried in a cot, sheet-pale and thin, +And Sir John Hope, lank as a skeleton.-- +Thereto is added, with authority, +That a new expedition soon will fit, +And start again for Spain. + + +ENGLISHMAN + + I have heard as much. + + +CITIZEN + +You'll do it next time, sir. And so shall we! + + +SECOND CITIZEN (regarding the church tower opposite) + +You witnessed the High Service over there +They held this morning? (To the Englishman.) + + +ENGLISHMAN + + Ay; I did get in; +Though not without hard striving, such the throng; +But travellers roam to waste who shyly roam +And I pushed like the rest. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + + Our young Archduchess +Maria Louisa was, they tell me, present? + + +ENGLISHMAN + +O yes: the whole Imperial family, +And when the Bishop called all blessings down +Upon the Landwehr colours there displayed, +Enthusiasm touched the sky--she sharing it. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +Commendable in her, and spirited, +After the graceless insults to the Court +The Paris journals flaunt--not voluntarily, +But by his ordering. Magician-like +He holds them in his fist, and at his squeeze +They bubble what he wills! . . . Yes, she's a girl +Of patriotic build, and hates the French. +Quite lately she was overheard to say +She had met with most convincing auguries +That this year Bonaparte was starred to die. + + +ENGLISHMAN + +Your arms must render its fulfilment sure. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +Right! And we have the opportunity, +By upping to the war in suddenness, +And catching him unaware. The pink and flower +Of all his veteran troops are now in Spain +Fully engaged with yours; while those he holds +In Germany are scattered far and wide. + + +FIRST CITIZEN (looking up again from his newspaper) + +I see here that he vows and guarantees +Inviolate bounds to all our territories +If we but pledge to carry out forthwith +A prompt disarmament. Since that's his price +Hell burn his guarantees! Too long he has fooled us. +(To the Englishman) I drink, sir, to your land's consistency. +While we and all the kindred Europe States +Alternately have wooed and warred him, +You have not bent to blowing hot and cold, +But held you sturdily inimical! + + +ENGLISHMAN (laughing) + +Less Christian-like forgiveness mellows us +Than Continental souls! (They drink.) + + [A band is heard in a distant street, with shouting. Enter third + and fourth citizens, followed by others.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + + More news afloat? + + +THIRD AND FOURTH CITIZENS + +Yea; an announcement that the Archduke Charles +Is given the chief command. + + +FIRST, SECOND, ETC., CITIZENS + + Huzza! Right so! + + [A clinking of glasses, rising from seats, and general enthusiasm.] + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +If war had not so patly been declared, +Our howitzers and firelocks of themselves +Would have gone off to shame us! This forenoon +Some of the Landwehr met me; they are hot +For setting out, though but few months enrolled. + + +ENGLISHMAN + +That moves reflection somewhat. They are young +For measuring with the veteran file of France! + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +Napoleon's army swarms with tender youth, +His last conscription besomed into it +Thousands of merest boys. But he contrives +To mix them in the field with seasoned frames. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +The sadly-seen mistake this country made +Was that of grounding hostile arms at all. +We should have fought irreconcilably-- +Have been consistent as the English are. +The French are our hereditary foes, +And this adventurer of the saucy sword, +This sacrilegious slighter of our shrines, +Stands author of all our ills . . . +Our harvest fields and fruits he trample on, +Accumulating ruin in our land. +Think of what mournings in the last sad war +'Twas his to instigate and answer for! +Time never can efface the glint of tears +In palaces, in shops, in fields, in cots, +From women widowed, sonless, fatherless, +That then oppressed our eyes. There is no salve +For such deep harrowings but to fight again; +The enfranchisement of Europe hangs thereon, +And long she has lingered for the sign to crush him: +That signal we have given; the time is come! (Thumping on the table.) + + +FIFTH CITIZEN (at another table, looking up from his paper and + speaking across) + +I see that Russia has declined to aid us, +And says she knows that Prussia likewise must; +So that the mission of Prince Schwarzenberg +To Alexander's Court has closed in failure. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Ay--through his being honest--fatal sin!-- +Probing too plainly for the Emperor's ears +His ominous friendship with Napoleon. + + +ENGLISHMAN + +Some say he was more than honest with the Tsar; +Hinting that his becoming an ally +Makes him accomplice of the Corsican +In the unprincipled dark overthrow +Of his poor trusting childish Spanish friends-- +Which gave the Tsar offence. + + +THIRD CITIZEN + + And our best bid-- +The last, most delicate dish--a tastelessness. + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +What was Prince Schwarzenberg's best bid, I pray? + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +The offer of the heir of Austria's hand +For Alexander's sister the Grand-Duchess. + + +ENGLISHMAN + +He could not have accepted, if or no: +She is inscribed as wife for Bonaparte. + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +I doubt that text! + + +ENGLISHMAN + + Time's context soon will show. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +The Russian Cabinet can not for long +Resist the ardour of the Russian ranks +To march with us the moment we achieve +Our first loud victory! + + [A band is heard playing afar, and shouting. People are seen + hurrying past in the direction of the sounds. Enter sixth + citizen.] + + +SIXTH CITIZEN + + The Archduke Charles +Is passing the Ringstrasse just by now, +His regiment at his heels! + + [The younger sitters jump up with animation, and go out, the + elder mostly remaining.] + + +SECOND CITIZEN + + Realm never faced +The grin of a more fierce necessity +For horrid war, than ours at this tense time! + + [The sounds of band-playing and huzzaing wane away. Citizens + return.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +More news, my friends, of swiftly swelling zeal? + + +RE-ENTERED CITIZENS + +Ere passing down the Ring, the Archduke paused +And gave the soldiers speech, enkindling them +As sunrise a confronting throng of panes +That glaze a many-windowed east facade: +Hot volunteers vamp in from vill and plain-- +More than we need in the furthest sacrifice! + + +FIRST, SECOND, ETC., CITIZENS + +Huzza! Right so! Good! Forwards! God be praised! + + [They stand up, and a clinking of glasses follows, till they + subside to quietude and a reperusal of newspapers. Nightfall + succeeds. Dancing-rooms are lit up in an opposite street, and + dancing begins. The figures are seen gracefully moving round + to the throbbing strains of a string-band, which plays a new + waltzing movement with a warlike name, soon to spread over + Europe. The dancers sing patriotic words as they whirl. The + night closes over.] + + + + +ACT FOURTH + +SCENE I + +A ROAD OUT OF VIENNA + + [It is morning in early May. Rain descends in torrents, accompanied + by peals of thunder. The tepid downpour has caused the trees to + assume as by magic a clothing of limp green leafage, and has turned + the ruts of the uneven highway into little canals. + + A drenched travelling-chariot is passing, with a meagre escort. + In the interior are seated four women: the ARCHDUCHESS MARIA + LOUISA, in age about eighteen; her stepmother the EMPRESS OF + AUSTRIA, third wife of FRANCIS, only four years older than the + ARCHDUCHESS; and two ladies of the Austrian Court. Behind come + attendant carriages bearing servants and luggage. + + The inmates remain for the most part silent, and appear to be in a + gloomy frame of mind. From time to time they glance at the moist + spring scenes which pass without in a perspective distorted by the + rain-drops that slide down the panes, and by the blurring effect + of the travellers' breathings. Of the four the one who keeps in + the best spirits is the ARCHDUCHESS, a fair, blue-eyed, full- + figured, round-lipped maiden.] + + +MARIA LOUISA + +Whether the rain comes in or not I must open the window. Please +allow me. (She straightway opens it.) + + +EMPRESS (groaning) + +Yes--open or shut it--I don't care. I am too ill to care for +anything! (The carriage jolts into a hole.) O woe! To think that +I am driven away from my husband's home in such a miserable +conveyance, along such a road, and in such weather as this. (Peal +of thunder.) There are his guns! + + +MARIA LOUISA + +No, my dear one. It cannot be his guns. They told us when we +started that he was only half-way from Ratisbon hither, so that he +must be nearly a hundred miles off as yet; and a large army cannot +move fast. + + +EMPRESS + +He should never have been let come nearer than Ratisbon! The victory +at Echmuhl was fatal for us. O Echmuhl, Echmuhl! I believe he will +overtake us before we get to Buda. + + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING + +If so, your Majesty, shall we be claimed as prisoners and marched +to Paris? + + +EMPRESS + +Undoubtedly. But I shouldn't much care. It would not be worse than +this. . . . I feel sodden all through me, and frowzy, and broken! +(She closes her eyes as if to doze.) + + +MARIA LOUISA + +It is dreadful to see her suffer so! (Shutting the window.) If +the roads were not so bad I should not mind. I almost wish we had +stayed; though when he arrives the cannonade will be terrible. + + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING + +I wonder if he will get into Vienna. Will his men knock down all +the houses, madam? + + +MARIA LOUISA + +If he do get in, I am sure his triumph will not be for long. My +uncle the Archduke Charles is at his heels! I have been told many +important prophecies about Bonaparte's end, which is fast nearing, +it is asserted. It is he, they say, who is referred to in the +Apocalypse. He is doomed to die this year at Cologne, in an inn +called "The Red Crab." I don't attach too much importance to all +these predictions, but O, how glad I should be to see them come true! + + +SECOND LADY-IN-WAITING + +So should we all, madam. What would become of his divorce-scheme +then? + + +MARIA LOUISA + +Perhaps there is nothing in that report. One can hardly believe +such gossip. + + +SECOND LADY-IN-WAITING + +But they say, your Imperial Highness, that he certainly has decided +to sacrifice the Empress Josephine, and that at the meeting last +October with the Emperor Alexander at Erfurt, it was even settled +that he should marry as his second wife the Grand-Duchess Anne. + + +MARIA LOUISA + +I am sure that the Empress her mother will never allow one of the +house of Romanoff to marry with a bourgeois Corsican. I wouldn't +if I were she! + + +FIRST LADY-IN-WAITING + +Perhaps, your Highness, they are not so particular in Russia, where +they are rather new themselves, as we in Austria, with your ancient +dynasty, are in such matters. + + +MARIA LOUISA + +Perhaps not. Though the Empress-mother is a pompous old thing, as +I have been told by Prince Schwarzenberg, who was negotiating there +last winter. My father says it would be a dreadful misfortune for +our country if they were to marry. Though if we are to be exiled +I don't see how anything of that sort can matter much. . . . I hope +my father is safe! + + [An officer of the escort rides up to the carriage window, which + is opened.] + + +EMPRESS (unclosing her eyes) + +Any more misfortunes? + + +OFFICER + +A rumour is a-wind, your Majesty, +That the French host, the Emperor in its midst, +Lannes, Massena, and Bessieres in its van, +Advancing hither along the Ratisbon road, +Has seized the castle and town of Ebersberg, +And burnt all down, with frightful massacre, +Vast heaps of dead and wounded being consumed, +So that the streets stink strong with frizzled flesh.-- +The enemy, ere this, has crossed the Traun, +Hurling brave Hiller's army back on us, +And marches on Amstetten--thirty miles +Less distant from Vienna from before! + + +EMPRESS + +The Lord show mercy to us! But O why +Did not the Archdukes intercept the foe? + + +OFFICER + +His Highness Archduke Charles, your Majesty, +After his sore repulse Bohemia-wards, +Could not proceed with strength and speed enough +To close in junction with the Archduke John +And Archduke Louis, as was their intent. +So Marshall Lannes swings swiftly on Vienna, +With Oudinot's and Demont's might of foot; +Then Massena and all his mounted men, +And then Napoleon, Guards, Cuirassiers, +And the main body of the Imperial Force. + + +EMPRESS + +Alas for poor Vienna! + + +OFFICER + + Even so! +Your Majesty has fled it none too soon. + + [The window is shut, and the procession disappears behind the + sheets of rain.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE ISLAND OF LOBAU, WITH WAGRAM BEYOND + + [The northern horizon at the back of the bird's-eye prospect is + the high ground stretching from the Bisamberg on the left to the + plateau of Wagram on the right. In front of these elevations + spreads the wide plain of the Marchfeld, open, treeless, and with + scarcely a house upon it.(16) + + In the foreground the Danube crosses the scene with a graceful + slowness, looping itself round the numerous wooded islands therein. + The largest of these, immediately under the eye, is the Lobau, + which stands like a knot in the gnarled grain represented by the + running river. + + On this island can be discerned, closely packed, an enormous dark + multitude of foot, horse, and artillery in French uniforms, the + numbers reaching to a hundred and seventy thousand. + + Lifting our eyes to discover what may be opposed to them we + perceive on the Wagram plateau aforesaid, and right and left in + front of it, extended lines of Austrians, whitish and glittering, + to the number of a hundred and forty thousand. + + The July afternoon turns to evening, the evening to twilight. + A species of simmer which pervades the living spectacle raises + expectation till the very air itself seems strained with suspense. + A huge event of some kind is awaiting birth.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +The first change under the cloak of night is that the tightly packed +regiments on the island are got under arms. The soldiery are like +a thicket of reeds in which every reed should be a man. + +A large bridge connects the island with the further shore, as well +as some smaller bridges. Opposite are high redoubts and ravelins +that the Austrians have constructed for opposing the passage across, +which the French ostentatiously set themselves to attempt by the +large bridge, amid heavy cannonading. + +But the movement is a feint, though this is not perceived by the +Austrians as yet. The real movement is on the right hand of the +foreground, behind a spur of the isle, and out of sight of the +enemy; where several large rafts and flat boats, each capable of +carrying three hundred men, are floated out from a screened creek. + +Chosen battalions enter upon these, which immediately begin to cross +with their burden. Simultaneously from other screened nooks +secretly prepared floating bridges, in sections, are moved forth, +joined together, and defended by those who crossed on the rafts. + +At two o'clock in the morning the thousands of cooped soldiers begin +to cross the bridges, producing a scene which, on such a scale, was +never before witnessed in the history of war. A great discharge +from the batteries accompanies this manoeuvre, arousing the Austrians +to a like cannonade. + +The night has been obscure for summer-time, and there is no moon. +The storm now breaks in a tempestuous downpour, with lightning and +thunder. The tumult of nature mingles so fantastically with the +tumult of projectiles that flaming bombs and forked flashes cut the +air in company, and the noise from the mortars alternates with the +noise from the clouds. + +From bridge to bridge and back again a gloomy-eyed figure stalks, as +it has stalked the whole night long, with the restlessness of a wild +animal. Plastered with mud, and dribbling with rain-water, it bears +no resemblance to anything dignified or official. The figure is that +of NAPOLEON, urging his multitudes over. + +By daylight the great mass of the men is across the water. At +six the rain ceases, the mist uncovers the face of the sun, which +bristles on the helmets and bayonets of the French. A hum of +amazement rises from the Austrian hosts, who turn staring faces +southward and perceive what has happened, and the columns of +their enemies standing to arms on the same side of the stream +with themselves, and preparing to turn their left wing. + +NAPOLEON rides along the front of his forces, which now spread out +upon the plain, and are ranged in order of battle. + +Dumb Show ends, and the point of view changes. + + + +SCENE III + +THE FIELD OF WAGRAM + + [The battlefield is now viewed reversely, from the windows of a + mansion at Wolkersdorf, to the rear of the Austrian position. + The aspect of the windows is nearly south, and the prospect includes + the plain of the Marchfeld, with the isled Danube and Lobau in the + extreme distance. Ten miles to the south-west, rightwards, the + faint summit of the tower of St. Stephen's, Vienna, appears. On + the middle-left stands the compact plateau of Wagram, so regularly + shaped as to seem as if constructed by art. On the extreme left + the July sun has lately risen. + + Inside the room are discovered the EMPEROR FRANCIS and some house- + hold officers in attendance; with the War-Minister and Secretaries + at a table at the back. Through open doors can be seen in an outer + apartment adjutants, equerries, aides, and other military men. An + officer in waiting enters.] + + +OFFICER + +During the night the French have shifted, sire, +And much revised their stations of the eve +By thwart and wheeling moves upon our left, +And on our centre--projects unforeseen +Till near accomplished. + + +FRANCIS + + But I am advised +By oral message that the Archduke Charles, +Since the sharp strife last night, has mended, too, +His earlier dispositions, and has sped +Strong orders to the Archduke John, to bring +In swiftest marches all the force he holds, +And fall with heavy impact on the French +From nigh their rear? + + +OFFICER + + 'Tis good, sire; such a swoop +Will raise an obstacle to their retreat +And refuge in the fastness of the isle; +And show this victory-gorged adventurer +That striking with a river in his rear +Is not the safest tactic to be played +Against an Austrian front equipt like ours! + + [The EMPEROR FRANCIS and others scrutinize through their glasses + the positions and movements of the Austrian divisions, which appear + on the plain as pale masses, emitting flashes from arms and helmets + under the July rays, and reaching from the Tower of Neusiedel on + the left, past Wagram, into the village of Stammersdorf on the + right. Beyond their lines are spread out the darker-hued French, + almost parallel to the Austrians.] + + +FRANCIS + +Those moving masses toward the right I deem +The forces of Klenau and Kollowrath, +Sent to support Prince John of Lichtenstein +I his attack that way? + + [An interval.] + + Now that they've gained +The right there, why is not the attack begun? + + +OFFICER + +They are beginning on the left wing, sire. + + [The EMPEROR resumes his glass and beholds bodies of men descending + from the hills by Neusiedel, and crossing the Russbach river towards + the French--a movement which has been going on for some time.] + + +FRANCIS (turning thither) + +Where we are weakest! It surpasses me +To understand why was our centre thinned +To pillar up our right already strong, +Where nought is doing, while our left assault +Stands ill-supported? + + [Time passes in silence.] + + Yes, it is so. See, +The enemy strikes Rossenberg in flank, +Compelling him to fall behind the Russbach! + + [The EMPEROR gets excited, and his face perspires. At length he + cannot watch through his glass, and walks up and down.] + +Penned useless here my nerves annoy my sight! +Inform me what you note.--I should opine +The Wagram height behind impregnable? + + [Another silence, broken by the distant roar of the guns.] + + +OFFICER + +Klenau and Kollowrath are pounding on! +To turn the enemy's left with our strong right +Is, after all, a plan that works out well. +Hiller and Lichtenstein conjoin therein. + + +FRANCIS + +I hear from thence appalling cannonades. + + +OFFICER + +'Tis their, your Majesty. Now we shall see +If the French read that there the danger lies. + + +FRANCIS + +I only pray that Bonaparte refrain +From spying danger there till all too late! + + +OFFICER (involuntarily, after a pause) + +Ah, Heaven! + + +FRANCIS (turning sharply) + +Well, well? What changes figure now? + + +OFFICER + +They pierce our centre, sire! We are, despite, +Not centrally so weak as I supposed. +Well done, Bellegarde! + + +FRANCIS (glancing to the centre) + + And what has he well done? + + +OFFICER + +The French in fierce fume broke through Aderklaa; +But Bellegarde, pricking along the plain behind, +Has charged and driven them back disorderly. +The Archduke Charles bounds thither, as I shape, +In person to support him! + + [The EMPEROR returns to his spyglass; and they and others watch in + silence, sometimes the right of their front, sometimes the centre.] + + +FRANCIS + + It is so! +That the right attack of ours spells victory, +And Austria's grand salvation! . . . (Times passes.) Turn your glass, +And closely scan Napoleon and his aides +Hand-galloping towards his centre-left +To strengthen it against the brave Bellegarde. +Does your eye reach him?--That white horse, alone +In front of those that move so rapidly. + + +OFFICER + +It does, sire; though my glass can conjure not +So cunningly as yours. . . . that horse must be +The famed Euphrates--him the Persian king +Sent Bonaparte as gift. + + [A silence. NAPOLEON reaches a carriage that is moving across. + It bears MASSENA, who, having received a recent wound, in unable + to ride.] + + +FRANCIS + +See, the white horse and horseman pause beside +A coach for some strange reason rolling there. . . . +That white-horsed rider--yes!--is Bonaparte, +By the aides hovering round. . . . +New war-wiles have been worded; we shall spell +Their purport soon enough! (An interval.) + The French take heart +To stand to our battalions steadfastly, +And hold their ground, having the Emperor near! + + [Time passes. An aide-de-camp enters.] + + +AIDE + +The Archduke Charles is pierced in the shoulder, sire; +He strove too far in beating back the French +At Aderklaa, and was nearly ta'en. +The wound's not serious.--On our right we win, +And deem the battle ours. + + [Enter another aide-de-camp.] + + +SECOND AIDE + + Your Majesty, +We have borne them back through Aspern village-street +And Essling is recovered. What counts more, +Their bridges to the rear we have nearly grasped, +And panic-struck they crowd the few left free, +Choking the track, with cries of "All is lost!" + + +FRANCIS + +Then is the land delivered. God be praised! + + [Exeunt aides. An interval, during which the EMPEROR and his + companions again remain anxiously at their glasses.] + +There is a curious feature I discern +To have come upon the battle. On our right +We gain ground rapidly; towards the left +We lose it; and the unjudged consequence +Is that the armies; whole commingling mass +Moves like a monstrous wheel. I like it not! + + [Enter another aide-de-camp.] + + +THIRD AIDE + +Our left wing, sire, recedes before Davout, +Whom nothing can withstand! Two corps he threw +Across the Russbach up to Neusiedel, +While he himself assailed the place in front. +Of the divisions one pressed on and on, +Till lodged atop. They would have been hurled back--- + + +FRANCIS + +But how goes it with us in sum? pray say! + + +THIRD AIDE + +We have been battered off the eastern side +Of Wagram plateau. + + +FRANCIS + + Where's the Archduke John? +Why comes he not? One man of his here now +Were worth a host anon. And yet he tarries! + + [Exit third aide. Time passes, while they reconnoitre the field + with strained eyes.] + +Our centre-right, it seems, round Neusiedel, +Is being repulsed! May the kind Heaven forbid +That Hesse Homberg should be yielding there! + + [The Minister in attendance comes forward, and the EMPEROR consults + him; then walking up and down in silence. Another aide-de-camp + enters.] + + +FOURTH AIDE + +Sire, Neusiedel has just been wrenched from us, +And the French right is on the Wagram crest; +Nordmann has fallen, and Veczay: Hesse Homberg, +Warteachben, Muger--almost all our best-- +Bleed more or less profusely! + + [A gloomy silence. Exit fourth side. Ten minutes pass. Enter an + officer in waiting.] + + +FRANCIS + +What guns are those that groan from Wagram height? + + +OFFICER + +Alas, Davout's! I have climbed the roof-top, sire, +And there discerned the truth. + + [Cannonade continues. A long interval of suspense. The EMPEROR + returns to his glass.] + + +FRANCIS + + A part of it! +There seems to be a grim, concerted lunge +By the whole strength of France upon our right, +Centre, and left wing simultaneously! + + +OFFICER + +Most viciously upon the centre, sire, +If I mistook not, hard by Sussenbrunn; +The assault is led by Bonaparte in person, +Who shows himself with marvellous recklessness, +Yet like a phantom-fiend receives no hurt. + + +FRANCIS (still gazing) + +Ha! Now the Archduke Charles has seen the intent, +And taken steps against it. Sussenbrunn +Must be the threatened thing. (Silence.) What an advance!-- +Straight hitherward. Our centre girdles them.-- +Surely they'll not persist? Who heads that charge? + + +OFFICER + +They say Macdonald, sire. + + +FRANCIS + + Meagrest remains +Will there be soon of those in that advance! +We are burning them to bones by our hot fire. +They are almost circumscribed: if fully so +The battle's ours! What's that behind them, eh? + + +OFFICER + +Their last reserves, that they may feed the front, +And sterilize our hope! + + +FRANCIS + + Yes, their reserve-- +Dragoons and cuirassiers--charge in support. +You see their metal gleaming as they come. +Well, it is neck or nothing for them now! + + +OFFICER + +It's nothing, sire. Their charge of cavalry +Has desperately failed. + + +FRANCIS + + Their foot press on, +However, with a battery in front +Which deals the foulest damage done us yet. (Time passes.) +They ARE effecting lodgment, after all. +Who would have reckoned on't--our men so firm! + + [Re-enter first aide-de-camp.] + + +FIRST AIDE + +The Archduke Charles retreats, your majesty; +And the issue wears a dirty look just now. + + +FRANCIS (gloomily) + +Yes: I have seen the signs for some good while. +But he retreats with blows, and orderly. + + [Time passes, till the sun has rounded far towards the west. The + features of the battle now materially change. The French have + regained Aspern and Essling; the Austrian army is doubled back + from the Danube and from the heights of Wagram, which, as + viewed from Wolkersdorf, face the afternoon shine, the French + established thereon glittering in the rays. + + +FRANCIS (choking a sigh) + +The turn has passed. We are worsted, but not overwhelmed! . . . +The French advance is laboured, and but slow. +--This might have been another-coloured day +If but the Archduke John had joined up promptly; +Yet still he lags! + + +ANOTHER OFFICER (lately entered) + + He's just now coming, sire. +His columns glimmer in the Frenchmen's rear. +Past Siebenbrunn's and Loebensdorf's smoked hills. + + +FRANCIS (impatiently) + +Ay--coming NOW! Why could he not be COME! + + (They watch intently.) + +We can see nothing of that side from here. + + [Enter a general officer, who speaks to the Minister at the back + of the room.] + + +MINISTER (coming forward) + +Your Majesty, I now have to suggest, +Pursuant to conclusions reached this morn, +That since the front and flower of all our force +Is seen receding to the Bisamberg, +These walls no longer yield safe shade for you, +Or facile outlook. Scouts returning say +Either Davout, or Bonaparte himself, +With the mid-columns of his forward corps, +Will bear up hitherward in fierce pursuit, +And may intrude beneath this very roof. +Not yet, I think; it may not be to-night; +But we should stand prepared. + + +FRANCIS + + If we must go +We'll go with a good grace, unfeignedly! +Who knows to-morrow may not see regained +What we have lost to-day? + + [Re-enter fourth aide-de-camp.] + + +FOURTH AIDE (breathlessly) + + The Archduke John, +Discerning our main musters in retreat, +Abandons an advance that throws on him +The enemy's whole brunt if he bear on. + + +FRANCIS + +Alas for his devotion! Let us go. +Such weight of sadness as we shoulder now +Will wring us down to sleep in stall or stye, +If even that be found! . . . Think! Bonaparte, +By reckless riskings of his life and limb, +Has turned the steelyard of our strength to-day +Whilst I have idled here! . . . May brighter times +Attend the cause of Europe far in Spain, +And British blood flow not, as ours, in vain! + + [Exeunt the EMPEROR FRANCIS, minister, officers, and attendants. + The night comes, and the scene is obscured.] + + + +SCENE IV + +THE FIELD OF TALAVERA + + [It is the same month and weather as in the preceding scene. + + Talavera town, on the river Tagus, is at the extreme right of the + foreground; a mountain range on the extreme left. + + The allied army under SIR ARTHUR WELLESLEY stretches between--the + English on the left, the Spanish on the right--part holding a hill + to the left-centre of the scene, divided from the mountains by a + valley, and part holding a redoubt to the right-centre. This army + of more than fifty thousand all told, of which twenty-two thousand + only are English, has its back to the spectator. + + Beyond, in a wood of olive, oak, and cork, are the fifty to sixty + thousand French, facing the spectator and the allies. Their right + includes a strong battery upon a hill which fronts the one on the + English left. + + Behind all, the heights of Salinas close the prospect, the small + river Alberche flowing at their foot from left to right into the + Tagus, which advances in foreshortened perspective to the town at + the right front corner of the scene as aforesaid.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +The hot and dusty July afternoon having turned to twilight, shady +masses of men start into motion from the French position, come towards +the foreground, silently ascend the hill on the left of the English, +and assail the latter in a violent outburst of fire and lead. They +nearly gain possession of the hill ascended. + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + Talavera tongues it as ten o' the night-time: + Now come Ruffin's slaughterers surging upward, + Backed by bold Vilatte's! From the vale Lapisse, too, + Darkly outswells there! + + Down the vague veiled incline the English fling them, + Bended bayonets prodding opponents backward: + So the first fierce charge of the ardent Frenchmen + England repels there! + + +Having fallen back into the darkness the French presently reascend +in yet larger masses. The high square knapsack which every English +foot-soldier carries, and his shako, and its tuft, outline themselves +against the dim light as the ranks stand awaiting the shock. + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS + + Pushing spread they!--shout as they reach the summit!-- + Strength and stir new-primed in their plump battalions: + Puffs of barbed flame blown on the lines opposing + Higher and higher. + + There those hold them mute, though at speaking distance-- + Mute, while clicking flints, and the crash of volleys + Whelm the weighted gloom with immense distraction + Pending their fire. + + Fronting heads, helms, brows can each ranksman read there, + Epaulettes, hot cheeks, and the shining eyeball, + (Called a trice from gloom by the fleeting pan-flash) + Pressing them nigher! + + +The French again fall back in disorder into the hollow, and LAPISSE +draws off on the right. As the sinking sound of the muskets tells +what has happened the English raise a shout. + + +CHORUS OF PITIES + + Thus the dim nocturnal embroil of conflict + Closes with the roar of receding gun-fire. + Harness loosened then, and their day-long strenuous + Temper unbending, + + Worn-out lines lie down where they late stood staunchly-- + Cloaks around them rolled--by the bivouac embers: + There at dawn to stake in the dynasts' death-game + All, till the ending! + + + +SCENE V + +THE SAME + + +DUMB SHOW (continued) + +The morning breaks. There is another murderous attempt to dislodge the +English from the hill, the assault being pressed with a determination +that excites the admiration of the English themselves. + +The French are seen descending into the valley, crossing it, and +climbing it on the English side under the fire of HILL'S whole +division, all to no purpose. In their retreat they leave behind +them on the slopes nearly two thousand lying. + +The day advances to noon, and the air trembles in the intense heat. +The combat flags, and is suspended. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + What do I see but thirsty, throbbing bands + From these inimic hosts defiling down + In homely need towards the little stream + That parts their enmities, and drinking there! + They get to grasping hands across the rill, + Sealing their sameness as earth's sojourners.-- + What more could plead the wryness of the time + Than such unstudied piteous pantomimes! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + +It is only that Life's queer mechanics chance to work out in this +grotesque shape just now. The groping tentativeness of an Immanent +Will (as grey old Years describes it) cannot be asked to learn logic +at this time of day! The spectacle of Its instruments, set to riddle +one another through, and then to drink together in peace and concord, +is where the humour comes in, and makes the play worth seeing! + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +Come, Sprite, don't carry your ironies too far, or you may wake up +the Unconscious Itself, and tempt It to let all the gory clock-work +of the show run down to spite me! + + +DUMB SHOW (continuing) + +The drums roll, and the men of the two nations part from their +comradeship at the Alberche brook, the dark masses of the French +army assembling anew. SIR ARTHUR WELLESLEY has seated himself on +a mound that commands a full view of the contested hill, and +remains there motionless a long time. When the French form for +battle he is seen to have come to a conclusion. He mounts, gives +his orders, and the aides ride off. + +The French advance steadily through the sultry atmosphere, the +skirmishers in front, and the columns after, moving, yet seemingly +motionless. Their eighty cannon peal out and their shots mow every +space in the line of them. Up the great valley and the terraces of +the hill whose fame is at that moment being woven, comes VILLATE, +boring his way with foot and horse, and RUFFIN'S men following +behind. + +According to the order given, the Twenty-third Light Dragoons and +the German Hussars advance at a chosen moment against the head of +these columns. On the way they disappear. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Why this bedevilment? What can have chanced? + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + It so befalls that as their chargers near + The inimical wall of flesh with its iron frise, + A treacherous chasm uptrips them: zealous men + And docile horses roll to dismal death + And horrid mutilation. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Those who live + Even now advance! I'll see no more. Relate. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Yes, those pant on. Then further Frenchmen cross, + And Polish Lancers, and Westphalian Horse, + Who ring around these luckless Islanders, + And sweep them down like reeds by the river-bank + In scouring floods; till scarce a man remains. + + +Meanwhile on the British right SEBASTIANI'S corps has precipitated +itself in column against GENERAL CAMPBELL'S division, the division +of LAPISSE against the centre, and at the same time the hill on the +English left is again assaulted. The English and their allies are +pressed sorely here, the bellowing battery tearing lanes through +their masses. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR (continuing) + + The French reserves of foot and horse now on, + Smiting the Islanders in breast and brain + Till their mid-lines are shattered. . . . Now there ticks + The moment of the crisis; now the next, + Which brings the turning stroke. + + +SIR ARTHUR WELLESLEY sends down the Forty-eighth regiment under +COLONEL DONELLAN to support the wasting troops. It advances amid +those retreating, opening to let them pass. + + +SPIRIT OF THE RUMOUR (continuing) + + The pales, enerved, + The hitherto unflinching enemy! + Lapisse is pierced to death; the flagging French + Decline into the hollows whence they came. + The too exhausted English and reduced + Lack strength to follow.--Now the western sun, + Conning with unmoved visage quick and dead, + Gilds horsemen slackening, and footmen stilled, + Till all around breathes drowsed hostility. + + Last, the swealed herbage lifts a leering light, + And flames traverse the field; and hurt and slain + Opposed, opposers, in a common plight + Are scorched together on the dusk champaign. + + +The fire dies down, and darkness enwraps the scene. + + + +SCENE VI + +BRIGHTON. THE ROYAL PAVILION + + [It is the birthday dinner-party of the PRINCE OF WALES. In the + floridly decorated banqueting-room stretch tables spread with gold + and silver plate, and having artificial fountains in their midst. + + Seated at the tables are the PRINCE himself as host--rosy, well + curled, and affable--the DUKES OF YORK, CLARENCE, KENT, SUSSEX, + CUMBERLAND, and CAMBRIDGE, with many noblemen, including LORDS + HEADFORT, BERKELEY, EGREMONT, CHICHESTER, DUDLEY, SAY AND SELE, + SOUTHAMPTON, HEATHFIELD, ERSKINE, KEITH, C. SOMERSET, G. CAVENDISH, + R. SEYMOUR, and others; SIR C. POLE, SIR E.G. DE CRESPIGNY, MR. + SHERIDAN; Generals, Colonels, and Admirals, and the REV. MR. SCOTT. + + The PRINCE'S band plays in the adjoining room. The banquet is + drawing to its close, and a boisterous conversation is in progress. + + Enter COLONEL BLOOMFIELD with a dispatch for the PRINCE, who looks + it over amid great excitement in the company. In a few moments + silence is called.] + + +PRINCE OF WALES + +I have the joy, my lords and gentlemen, +To rouse you with the just imported tidings +From General Wellesley through Lord Castlereagh +Of a vast victory (noisy cheers) over the French in Spain. +The place--called Talavera de la Reyna +(If I pronounce it rightly)--long unknown, +Wears not the crest and blazonry of fame! (Cheers.) +The heads and chief contents of the dispatch +I read you as succinctly as I can. (Cheers.) + + +SHERIDAN (singing sotto voce) + +"Now foreign foemen die and fly, +Dammy, we'll drink little England dry!" + + [The PRINCE reads the parts of the dispatch that describe the + battle, amid intermittent cheers.] + + +PRINCE OF WALES (continuing) + +Such is the substance of the news received, +Which, after Wagram, strikes us genially +As sudden sunrise through befogged night shades! + + +SHERIDAN (privately) + +By God, that's good, sir! You are a poet born, while the rest of us +are but made, and bad at that. + + [The health of the army in Spain is drunk with acclamations.] + + +PRINCE OF WALES (continuing) + +In this achievement we, alas! have lost +Too many! Yet suck blanks must ever be.-- +Mackenzie, Langworth, Beckett of the Guards, +Have fallen of ours; while of the enemy +Generals Lapisse and Morlot are laid low.-- +Drink to their memories! + + [They drink in silence.] + + Other news, my friends, +Received to-day is of like hopeful kind. +The Great War-Expedition to the Scheldt (Cheers.) +Which lately sailed, has found a favouring wind, +And by this hour has touched its destined shores. +The enterprise will soon be hot aglow, +The invaders making first the Cadsand coast, +And then descending on Walcheren Isle. +But items of the next step are withheld +Till later days, from obvious policy. (Cheers.) + + [Faint throbbing sounds, like the notes of violincellos and + contrabassos, reach the ear from some building without as the + speaker pauses. + +In worthy emulation of us here +The county holds to-night a birthday ball, +Which flames with all the fashion of the town. +I have been asked to patronize their revel, +And sup with them, and likewise you, my guests. +We have good reason, with such news to bear! +Thither we haste and join our loyal friends, +And stir them with this live intelligence +Of our staunch regiments on the Spanish plains. (Applause.) +With them we'll now knit hands and beat the ground, +And bring in dawn as we whirl round and round! +There are some fair ones in their set to-night, +And such we need here in our bachelor-plight. (Applause.) + + [The PRINCE, his brothers, and a large proportion of the other + Pavilion guests, swagger out in the direction of the Castle + assembly-rooms adjoining, and the deserted banqueting-hall grows + dark. In a few moments the back of the scene opens, revealing + the assembly-rooms behind.] + + + +SCENE VII + +THE SAME. THE ASSEMBLY ROOMS + + [The rooms are lighted with candles in brass chandeliers, and a + dance is in full movement to the strains of a string-band. A + signal is given, shortly after the clock has struck eleven, by + MR. FORTH, Master of Ceremonies.] + + +FORTH + +His Royal Highness comes, though somewhat late, +But never too late for welcome! (Applause.) Dancers, stand, +That we may do fit homage to the Prince +Who soon may shine our country's gracious king. + + + [After a brief stillness a commotion is heard at the door, the band + strikes up the National air, and the PRINCE enters, accompanied by + the rest of the visitors from the Pavilion. The guests who have + been temporarily absent now crowd in, till there is hardly space + to stand.] + + +PRINCE OF WALES (wiping his face and whispering to Sheridan) + +What shall I say to fit their feeling here? +Damn me, that other speech has stumped me quite! + + +SHERIDAN (whispering) + +If heat be evidence of loy--- + + +PRINCE OF WALES + + If what? + + +SHERIDAN + +If heat be evidence of loyalty, +Et caetera--something quaint like that might please 'em. + + +PRINCE OF WALES (to the company) + +If heat be evidence of loyalty, +This room affords it truly without question; +If heat be not, then its accompaniment +Most surely 'tis to-night. The news I bring, +Good ladies, friends, and gentlemen, perchance +You have divined already? That our arms-- +Engaged to thwart Napoleon's tyranny +Over the jaunty, jocund land of Spain +Even to the highest apex of our strength-- +Are rayed with victory! (Cheers.) Lengthy was the strife +And fierce, and hot; and sore the suffering; +But proudly we endured it; and shall hear, +No doubt, of its far consequence +Ere many days. I'll read the details sent. (Cheers.) + + [He reads again from the dispatch amid more cheering, the ball- + room guests crowding round. When he has done he answers questions; + then continuing: + +Meanwhile our interest is, if possible, +As keenly waked elsewhere. Into the Scheldt +Some forty thousand bayonets and swords, +And twoscore ships o' the line, with frigates, sloops, +And gunboats sixty more, make headway now, +Bleaching the waters with their bellying sails; +Or maybe they already anchor there, +And that level ooze of Walcheren shore +Ring with the voices of that landing host +In every twang of British dialect, +Clamorous to loosen fettered Europe's chain! (Cheers.) + + +A NOBLE LORD (aside to Sheridan) + +Prinny's outpouring tastes suspiciously like your brew, Sheridan. +I'll be damned if it is his own concoction. How d'ye sell it a +gallon? + + +SHERIDAN + +I don't deal that way nowadays. I give the recipe, and charge a +duty on the gauging. It is more artistic, and saves trouble. + + [The company proceed to the supper-rooms, and the ball-room sinks + into solitude.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + So they pass on. Let be!--But what is this-- + A moan?--all frailly floating from the east + To usward, even from the forenamed isle? . . . + Would I had not broke nescience, to inspect + A world so ill-contrived! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + But since thou hast + We'll hasten to the isle; and thou'lt behold-- + Such as it is--the scene its coasts enfold. + + + +SCENE VIII + +WALCHEREN + + [A marshy island at the mouth of the Scheldt, lit by the low + sunshine of an evening in late summer. The horizontal rays from + the west lie in yellow sheaves across the vapours that the day's + heat has drawn from the sweating soil. Sour grasses grow in + places, and strange fishy smells, now warm, now cold, pass along. + Brass-hued and opalescent bubbles, compounded of many gases, rise + where passing feet have trodden the damper spots. At night the + place is the haunt of the Jack-lantern.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +A vast army is encamped here, and in the open spaces are infantry on +parade--skeletoned men, some flushed, some shivering, who are kept +moving because it is dangerous to stay still. Every now and then +one falls down, and is carried away to a hospital with no roof, where +he is laid, bedless, on the ground. + +In the distance soldiers are digging graves for the funerals which +are to take place after dark, delayed till then that the sight of +so many may not drive the living melancholy-mad. Faint noises are +heard in the air. + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + What storm is this of souls dissolved in sighs, + And what the dingy doom it signifies? + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + We catch a lamentation shaped thuswise: + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + "We who withstood the blasting blaze of war + When marshalled by the gallant Moore awhile, + Beheld the grazing death-bolt with a smile, + Closed combat edge to edge and bore to bore, + Now rot upon this Isle! + + "The ever wan morass, the dune, the blear + Sandweed, and tepid pool, and putrid smell, + Emaciate purpose to a fractious fear, + Beckon the body to its last low cell-- + A chink no chart will tell. + + "O ancient Delta, where the fen-lights flit! + Ignoble sediment of loftier lands, + Thy humour clings about our hearts and hands + And solves us to its softness, till we sit + As we were part of it. + + "Such force as fever leaves maddened now, + With tidings trickling in from day to day + Of others' differing fortunes, wording how + They yield their lives to baulk a tyrant's sway-- + Yield them not vainly, they! + + "In champaigns green and purple, far and near, + In town and thorpe where quiet spire-cocks turn, + Through vales, by rocks, beside the brooding burn + Echoes the aggressor's arrogant career; + And we pent pithless here! + + "Here, where each creeping day the creeping file + Draws past with shouldered comrades score on score, + Bearing them to their lightless last asile, + Where weary wave-wails from the clammy shore + Will reach their ears no more. + + "We might have fought, and had we died, died well, + Even if in dynasts' discords not our own; + Our death-spot some sad haunter might have shown, + Some tongue have asked our sires or sons to tell + The tale of how we fell; + + "But such be chanced not. Like the mist we fade, + No lustrous lines engrave in story we, + Our country's chiefs, for their own fames afraid, + Will leave our names and fates by this pale sea, + To perish silently!" + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Why must ye echo as mechanic mimes + These mortal minion's bootless cadences, + Played on the stops of their anatomy + As is the mewling music on the strings + Of yonder ship-masts by the unweeting wind, + Or the frail tune upon this withering sedge + That holds its papery blades against the gale? + --Men pass to dark corruption, at the best, + Ere I can count five score: these why not now?-- + The Immanent Shaper builds Its beings so + Whether ye sigh their sighs with them or no! + + +The night fog enwraps the isle and the dying English army. + + + + +ACT FIFTH + + +SCENE I + +PARIS. A BALLROOM IN THE HOUSE OF CAMBACERES + + [The many-candled saloon at the ARCH-CHANCELLOR'S is visible + through a draped opening, and a crowd of masked dancers in + fantastic costumes revolve, sway, and intermingle to the music + that proceeds from an alcove at the further end of the same + apartment. The front of the scene is a withdrawing-room of + smaller size, now vacant, save for the presence of one sombre + figure, that of NAPOLEON, seated and apparently watching the + moving masquerade.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Napoleon even now embraces not + From stress of state affairs, which hold him grave + Through revels that might win the King of Spleen + To toe a measure! I would speak with him. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Speak if thou wilt whose speech nor mars nor mends! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES (into Napoleon's ear) + + Why thus and thus Napoleon? Can it be + That Wagram with its glories, shocks, and shames, + Still leaves athirst the palate of thy pride? + + +NAPOLEON (answering as in soliloquy) + +The trustless, timorous lease of human life +Warns me to hedge in my diplomacy. +The sooner, then, the safer! Ay, this eve, +This very night, will I take steps to rid +My morrows of the weird contingencies +That vision round and make one hollow-eyed. . . . +The unexpected, lurid death of Lannes-- +Rigid as iron, reaped down like a straw-- +Tiptoed Assassination haunting round +In unthought thoroughfares, the near success +Of Staps the madman, argue to forbid +The riskful blood of my previsioned line +And potence for dynastic empery +To linger vialled in my veins alone. +Perhaps within this very house and hour, +Under an innocent mask of Love or Hope, +Some enemy queues my ways to coffin me. . . . +When at the first clash of the late campaign, +A bold belief in Austria's star prevailed, +There pulsed quick pants of expectation round +Among the cowering kings, that too well told +What would have fared had I been overthrown! +So; I must send down shoots to future time +Who'll plant my standard and my story there; +And a way opens.--Better I had not +Bespoke a wife from Alexander's house. +Not there now lies my look. But done is done! + + [The dance ends and masks enter, BERTHIER among them. NAPOLEON + beckons to him, and he comes forward.] + +God send you find amid this motley crew +Frivolities enough, friend Berthier--eh? +My thoughts have worn oppressive shades despite such! +What scandals of me do they bandy here? +These close disguises render women bold-- +Their shames being of the light, not of the thing-- +And your sagacity has garnered much, +I make no doubt, of ill and good report, +That marked our absence from the capital? + + +BERTHIER + +Methinks, your Majesty, the enormous tale +Of your campaign, like Aaron's serpent-rod, +Has swallowed up the smaller of its kind. +Some speak, 'tis true, in counterpoise thereto, +Of English deeds by Talavera town, +Though blurred by their exploit at Walcheren, +And all its crazy, crass futilities. + + +NAPOLEON + +Yet was the exploit well featured in design, +Large in idea, and imaginative; +I had not deemed the blinkered English folk +So capable of view. Their fate contrived +To place an idiot at the helm of it, +Who marred its working, else it had been hard +If things had not gone seriously for us. +--But see, a lady saunters hitherward +Whose gait proclaims her Madame Metternich, +One that I fain would speak with. + + [NAPOLEON rises and crosses the room toward a lady-masker who has + just appeared in the opening. BERTHIER draws off, and the EMPEROR, + unceremoniously taking the lady's arm, brings her forward to a + chair, and sits down beside her as dancing is resumed.] + + +MADAME METTERNICH + + In a flash +I recognized you, sire; as who would not +The bearer of such deep-delved charactery? + + +NAPOLEON + +The devil, madame, take your piercing eyes! +It's hard I cannot prosper in a game +That every coxcomb plays successfully. +--So here you are still, though your loving lord +Disports him at Vienna? + + +MADAME METTERNICH + + Paris, true, +Still holds me; though in quiet, save to-night, +When I have been expressly prayed come hither, +Or I had not left home. + + +NAPOLEON + + I sped that Prayer!-- +I have a wish to put a case to you, +Wherein a woman's judgment, such as yours, +May be of signal service. (He lapses into reverie.) + + +MADAME METTERNICH + + Well? The case-- + + +NAPOLEON + +Is marriage--mine. + + +MADAME METTERNICH + + It is beyond me, sire! + + +NAPOLEON + +You glean that I have decided to dissolve +(Pursuant to monitions murmured long) +My union with the present Empress--formed +Without the Church's due authority? + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +Vaguely. And that light tentatives have winged +Betwixt your Majesty and Russia's court, +To moot that one of their Grand Duchesses +Should be your Empress-wife. Nought else I know. + + +NAPOLEON + +There have been such approachings; more, worse luck. +Last week Champagny wrote to Alexander +Asking him for his sister--yes or no. + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +What "worse luck" lies in that, your Majesty, +If severance from the Empress Josephine +Be fixed unalterably? + + +NAPOLEON + + This worse luck lies there: +If your Archduchess, Marie Louise the fair, +Would straight accept my hand, I'd offer it, +And throw the other over. Faith, the Tsar +Has shown such backwardness in answering me, +Time meanwhile trotting, that I have ample ground +For such withdrawal.--Madame, now, again, +Will your Archduchess marry me of no? + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +Your sudden questions quite confound my sense! +It is impossible to answer them. + + +NAPOLEON + +Well, madame, now I'll put it to you thus: +Were you in the Archduchess Marie's place +Would you accept my hand--and heart therewith? + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +I should refuse you--most assuredly!(17) + + +NAPOLEON (laughing roughly) + +Ha-ha! That's frank. And devilish cruel too! +--Well, write to your husband. Ask him what he thinks, +And let me know. + + +MADAME METTERNICH + + Indeed, sire, why should I? +There goes the Ambassador, Prince Schwarzenberg, +Successor to my spouse. He's now the groove +And proper conduit of diplomacy +Through whom to broach this matter to his Court. + + +NAPOLEON + +Do you, then, broach it through him, madame, pray; +Now, here, to-night. + + +MADAME METTERNICH + + I will, informally, +To humour you, on this recognizance, +That you leave not the business in my hands, +But clothe your project in official guise +Through him to-morrow; so safeguarding me +From foolish seeming, as the babbler forth +Of a fantastic and unheard of dream. + + +NAPOLEON + +I'll send Eugene to him, as you suggest. +Meanwhile prepare him. Make your stand-point this: +Children are needful to my dynasty, +And if one woman cannot mould them for me, +Why, then, another must. + + [Exit NAPOLEON abruptly. Dancing continues. MADAME METTERNICH + sits on, musing. Enter SCHWARZENBERG.] + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +The Emperor has just left me. We have tapped +This theme and that; his empress and--his next. +Ay, so! Now, guess you anything? + + +SCHWARZENBERG + + Of her? +No more than that the stock of Romanoff +Will not supply the spruce commodity. + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +And that the would-be customer turns toe +To our shop in Vienna. + + +SCHWARZENBERG + + Marvellous; +And comprehensible but as the dream +Of Delaborde, of which I have lately heard. +It will not work!--What think you, madame, on't? + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +That it will work, and is as good as wrought!-- +I break it to you thus, at his request. +In brief time Prince Eugene will wait on you, +And make the formal offer in his name. + + +SCHWARZENBERG + +Which I can but receive _ad referendum_, +And shall initially make clear as much, +Disclosing not a glimpse of my own mind! +Meanwhile you make good Metternich aware? + + +MADAME METTERNICH + +I write this midnight, that amaze may pitch +To coolness ere your messenger arrives. + + +SCHWARZENBERG + +This radiant revelation flicks a gleam +On many circling things!--the courtesies +Which graced his bearing toward our officer +Amid the tumults of the late campaign, +His wish for peace with England, his affront +At Alexander's tedious-timed reply . . . +Well, it will thrust a thorn in Russia's side, +If I err not, whatever else betide! + + [Exeunt. The maskers surge into the foreground of the scene, and + their motions become more and more fantastic. A strange gloom + begins and intensifies, until only the high lights of their + grinning figures are visible. These also, with the whole ball- + room, gradually darken, and the music softens to silence.] + + + +SCENE II + +PARIS. THE TUILERIES + + [The evening of the next day. A saloon of the Palace, with + folding-doors communicating with a dining-room. The doors are + flung open, revealing on the dining-table an untouched dinner, + NAPOLEON and JOSEPHINE rising from it, and DE BAUSSET, chamberlain- + in-waiting, pacing up and down. The EMPEROR and EMPRESS come + forward into the saloon, the latter pale and distressed, and + patting her eyes with her handkerchief. + + The doors are closed behind them; a page brings in coffee; NAPOLEON + signals to him to leave. JOSEPHINE goes to pour out the coffee, + but NAPOLEON pushes her aside and pours it out himself, looking at + her in a way which causes her to sink cowering into a chair like a + frightened animal.] + + +JOSEPHINE + +I see my doom, my friend, upon your face! + + +NAPOLEON + +You see me bored by Cambaceres' ball. + + +JOSEPHINE + +It means divorce!--a thing more terrible +Than carrying elsewhere the dalliances +That formerly were mine. I kicked at that; +But now agree, as I for long have done, +To any infidelities of act +May I be yours in name! + + +NAPOLEON + + My mind must bend +To other things than our domestic petting: +The Empire orbs above our happiness, +And 'tis the Empire dictates this divorce. +I reckon on your courage and calm sense +To breast with me the law's formalities, +And get it through before the year has flown. + + +JOSEPHINE + +But are you REALLY going to part from me? +O no, no, my dear husband; no, in truth, +It cannot be my Love will serve me so! + + +NAPOLEON + +I mean but mere divorcement, as I said, +On simple grounds of sapient sovereignty. + + +JOSEPHINE + +But nothing have I done save good to you:-- +Since the fond day we wedded into one +I never even have THOUGHT you jot of harm! +Many the happy junctures when you have said +I stood as guardian-angel over you, +As your Dame Fortune, too, and endless things +Of such-like pretty tenour--yes, you have! +Then how can you so gird against me now? +You had not pricked upon it much of late, +And so I hoped and hoped the ugly spectre +Had been laid dead and still. + + +NAPOLEON (impatiently) + + I tell you, dear, +The thing's decreed, and even the princess chosen. + + +JOSEPHINE + +Ah--so--the princess chosen! . . . I surmise +It is none else than the Grand-Duchess Anne: +Gossip was right--though I would not believe. +She's young; but no great beauty!--Yes, I see +Her silly, soulless eyes and horrid hair; +In which new gauderies you'll forget sad me! + + +NAPOLEON + +Upon my soul you are childish, Josephine: +A woman of your years to pout it so!-- +I say it's not the Tsar's Grand-Duchess Anne. + + +JOSEPHINE + +Some other Fair, then. You whose name can nod +The flower of all the world's virginity +Into your bed, will well take care of that! +(Spitefully.) She may not have a child, friend, after all. + + +NAPOLEON (drily) + +You hope she won't, I know!--But don't forget +Madame Walewska did, and had she shown +Such cleverness as yours, poor little fool, +Her withered husband might have been displaced, +And her boy made my heir.--Well, let that be. +The severing parchments will be signed by us +Upon the fifteenth, prompt. + + +JOSEPHINE + + What--I have to sign +My putting away upon the fifteenth next? + + +NAPOLEON + +Ay--both of us. + + +JOSEPHINE (falling on her knees) + + So far advanced--so far! +Fixed?--for the fifteenth? O I do implore you, +My very dear one, by our old, old love, +By my devotion, don't cast me off +Now, after these long years! + + +NAPOLEON + + Heavens, how you jade me! +Must I repeat that I don't cast you off; +We merely formally arrange divorce-- +We live and love, but call ourselves divided. + + [A silence.] + + +JOSEPHINE (with sudden calm) + +Very well. Let it be. I must submit! (Rises.) + + +NAPOLEON + +And this much likewise you must promise me, +To act in the formalities thereof +As if you shaped them of your own free will. + + +JOSEPHINE + +How can I--when no freewill's left in me? + + +NAPOLEON + +You are a willing party--do you hear? + + +JOSEPHINE (quivering) + +I hardly--can--bear this!--It is--too much +For a poor weak and broken woman's strength! +But--but I yield!--I am so helpless now: +I give up all--ay, kill me if you will, +I won't cry out! + + +NAPOLEON + + And one thing further still, +You'll help me in my marriage overtures +To win the Duchess--Austrian Marie she,-- +Concentrating all your force to forward them. + + +JOSEPHINE + +It is the--last humiliating blow!-- +I cannot--O, I will not! + + +NAPOLEON (fiercely) + + But you SHALL! +And from your past experience you may know +That what I say I mean! + + +JOSEPHINE (breaking into sobs) + +O my dear husband--do not make me--don't! +If you but cared for me--the hundredth part +Of how--I care for you, you could not be +So cruel as to lay this torture on me. +It hurts me so!--it cuts me like a sword. +Don't make me, dear! Don't, will you! O,O,O! +(She sinks down in a hysterical fit.) + + +NAPOLEON (calling) + +Bausset! + + [Enter DE BAUSSET, Chamberlain-in-waiting.] + + Bausset, come in and shut the door. +Assist me here. The Empress has fallen ill. +Don't call for help. We two can carry her +By the small private staircase to her rooms. +Here--I will take her feet. + + [They lift JOSEPHINE between them and carry her out. Her moans + die away as they recede towards the stairs. Enter two servants, + who remove coffee-service, readjust chairs, etc.] + + +FIRST SERVANT + +So, poor old girl, she's wailed her _Missere Mei_, as Mother Church +says. I knew she was to get the sack ever since he came back. + + +SECOND SERVANT + +Well, there will be a little civil huzzaing, a little crowing and +cackling among the Bonapartes at the downfall of the Beauharnais +family at last, mark me there will! They've had their little hour, +as the poets say, and now 'twill be somebody else's turn. O it is +droll! Well, Father Time is a great philosopher, if you take him +right. Who is to be the new woman? + + +FIRST SERVANT + +She that contains in her own corporation the necessary particular. + + +SECOND SERVANT + +And what may they be? + + +FIRST SERVANT + +She must be young. + + +SECOND SERVANT + +Good. She must. The country must see to that. + + +FIRST SERVANT + +And she must be strong. + + +SECOND SERVANT + +Good again. She must be strong. The doctors will see to that. + +FIRST SERVANT +And she must be fruitful as the vine. + + +SECOND SERVANT + +Ay, by God. She must be fruitful as the vine. That, Heaven help +him, he must see to himself, like the meanest multiplying man in +Paris. + + [Exeunt servant. Re-enter NAPOLEON with his stepdaughter, Queen + Hortense.] + + +NAPOLEON +Your mother is too rash and reasonless-- +Wailing and fainting over statesmanship +Which is no personal caprice of mine, +But policy most painful--forced on me +By the necessities of this country's charge. +Go to her; see if she be saner now; +Explain it to her once and once again, +And bring me word what impress you may make. + + [HORTENSE goes out. CHAMPAGNY is shown in.] + +Champagny, I have something clear to say +Now, on our process after the divorce. +The question of the Russian Duchess Anne +Was quite inept for further toying with. +The years rush on, and I grow nothing younger. +So I have made up my mind--committed me +To Austria and the Hapsburgs--good or ill! +It was the best, most practicable plunge, +And I have plunged it. + + +CHAMPAGNY + + Austria say you, sire? +I reckoned that but a scurrying dream! + + +NAPOLEON + +Well, so it was. But such a pretty dream +That its own charm transfixed it to a notion, +That showed itself in time a sanity, +Which hardened in its turn to a resolve +As firm as any built by mortal mind.-- +The Emperor's consent must needs be won; +But I foresee no difficulty there. +The young Archduchess is a bright blond thing +By general story; and considering, too, +That her good mother childed seventeen times, +It will be hard if she can not produce +The modest one or two that I require. + + [Enter DE BAUSSET with dispatches.] + + +DE BAUSSET + +The courier, sire, from Petersburg is here, +And brings these letters for your Majesty. + + [Exit DE BAUSSET.] + + +NAPOLEON (after silently reading) + +Ha-ha! It never rains unless it pours: +Now I can have the other readily. +The proverb hits me aptly: "Well they do +Who doff the old love ere they don the new!" +(He glances again over the letter.) +Yes, Caulaincourt now writes he has every hope +Of quick success in settling the alliance! +The Tsar is willing--even anxious for it, +His sister's youth the single obstacle. +The Empress-mother, hitherto against me, +Ambition-fired, verges on suave consent, +Likewise the whole Imperial family. +What irony is all this to me now! +Time lately was when I had leapt thereat. + + +CHAMPAGNY + +You might, of course, sire, give th' Archduchess up, +Seeing she looms uncertainly as yet, +While this does so no longer. + + +NAPOLEON + + No--not I. +My sense of my own dignity forbids +My watching the slow clocks of Muscovy! +Why have they dallied with my tentatives +In pompous silence since the Erfurt day? +--And Austria, too, affords a safer hope. +The young Archduchess is much less a child +Than is the other, who, Caulaincourt says, +Will be incapable of motherhood +For six months yet or more--a grave delay. + + +CHAMPAGNY + +Your Majesty appears to have trimmed your sail +For Austria; and no more is to be said! + + +NAPOLEON + +Except that there's the house of Saxony +If Austria fail.--then, very well, Champagny, +Write you to Caulaincourt accordingly. + + +CHAMPAGNY + +I will, your Majesty. + + [Exit CHAMPAGNY. Re-enter QUEEN HORTENSE.] + + +NAPOLEON + + Ah, dear Hortense, +How is your mother now? + + +HORTENSE + + Calm; quite calm, sire. +I pledge me you need have no further fret +From her entreating tears. She bids me say +That now, as always, she submits herself +With chastened dignity to circumstance, +And will descend, at notice, from your throne-- +As in days earlier she ascended it-- +In questionless obedience to your will. +It was your hand that crowned her; let it be +Likewise your hand that takes her crown away. +As for her children, we shall be but glad +To follow and withdraw ourselves with her, +The tenderest mother children ever knew, +From grandeurs that have brought no happiness! + + +NAPOLEON (taking her hand) + +But, Hortense, dear, it is not to be so! +You must stay with me, as I said before. +Your mother, too, must keep her royal state, +Since no repudiation stains this need. +Equal magnificence will orb her round +In aftertime as now. A palace here, +A palace in the country, wealth to match, +A rank in order next my future wife's, +And conference with me as my truest friend. +Now we will seek her--Eugene, you, and I-- +And make the project clear. + + [Exeunt NAPOLEON and HORTENSE. The scene darkens and shuts.] + + + +SCENE III + +VIENNA. A PRIVATE APARTMENT IN THE IMPERIAL PALACE + + [The EMPEROR FRANCIS discovered, paler than usual, and somewhat + flurried. Enter METTERNICH the Prime Minister--a thin-lipped, + long-nosed man with inquisitive eyes.] + + +FRANCIS + +I have been expecting you some minutes here, +The thing that fronts us brooking brief delay.-- +Well, what say you by now on this strange offer? + + +METTERNICH + +My views remain the same, your Majesty: +The policy of peace that I have upheld, +Both while in Paris and of late time here, +Points to this step as heralding sweet balm +And bandaged veins for our late crimsoned realm. + + +FRANCIS + +Agreed. As monarch I perceive therein +A happy doorway for my purposings. +It seems to guarantee the Hapsburg crown +A quittance of distractions such as those +That leave their shade on many a backward year!-- +There is, forsooth, a suddenness about it, +And it would aid us had we clearly keyed +The cryptologues of which the world has heard +Between Napoleon and the Russian Court-- +Begun there with the selfsame motiving. + + +METTERNICH + +I would not, sire, one second ponder it. +It was an obvious first crude cast-about +In the important reckoning of means +For his great end, a strong monarchic line. +The more advanced the more it profits us; +For sharper, then, the quashing of such views, +And wreck of that conjunction in the aims +Of France and Russia, marked so much of late +As jeopardizing quiet neighbours' thrones. + + +FRANCIS + +If that be so, on the domestic side +There seems no bar. Speaking as father solely, +I see secured to her the proudest fate +That woman can daydream. And I could hope +That private bliss would not be wanting her! + + +METTERNICH + + +A hope well seated, sire. The Emperor, +Imperious and determined in his rule, +Is easy-natured in domestic life, +As my long time in Paris amply proved. +Moreover, the accessories of his glory +Have been, and will be, admirably designed +To fire the fancy of a young princess. + + +FRANCIS + +Thus far you satisfy me. . . . So, to close, +Or not to close with him, is now the thing. + + +METTERNICH + +Your Majesty commands the issue quite: +The father of his people can alone +In such a case give answer--yes or no. +Vagueness and doubt have ruined Russia's chance; +Let not, then, such be ours. + + +FRANCIS + + + You mean, if I, +You'd answer straight. What would that answer be? + + +METTERNICH + +In state affairs, sire, as in private life, +Times will arise when even the faithfullest squire +Finds him unfit to jog his chieftain's choice, +On whom responsibility must lastly rest. +And such times are pre-eminently, sire, +Those wherein thought alone is not enough +To serve the head as guide. As Emperor, +As father, both, to you, to you in sole +Must appertain the privilege to pronounce +Which track stern duty bids you tread herein. + + +FRANCIS + +Affection is my duty, heart my guide.-- +Without constraint or prompting I shall leave +The big decision in my daughter's hands. +Before my obligations to my people +Must stand her wish. Go, find her, Metternich, +Take her the tidings. She is free with you, +And will speak out. (Looking forth from the terrace.) + She's here at hand, I see: +I'll call her in. Then tell me what's her mind. + + [He beckons from the window, and goes out in another direction.] + + +METTERNICH + +So much for form's sake! Can the river-flower +The current drags, direct its face up-stream? +What she must do she will; nought else at all. + + [Enter through one of the windows MARIA LOUISA in garden-costume, + fresh-coloured, girlish, and smiling. METTERNICH bends.] + + +MARIA LOUISA + +O how, dear Chancellor, you startled me! +Please pardon my so brusquely bursting in. +I saw you not.--Those five poor little birds +That haunt out there beneath the pediment, +Snugly defended from the north-east wind, +Have lately disappeared. I sought a trace +Of scattered feathers, which I dread to find! + + +METTERNICH + +They are gone, I ween, the way of tender flesh +At the assaults of winter, want, and foes. + + +MARIA LOUISA + +It is too melancholy thinking, that! +Don't say it.--But I saw the Emperor here? +Surely he beckoned me? + + +METTERNICH + + Sure, he did, +Your gracious Highness; and he has left me here +To break vast news that will make good his call. + + +MARIA LOUISA + +Then do. I'll listen. News from near or far? + + [She seats herself.] + + +METTERNICH + +From far--though of such distance-dwarfing might +That far may read as near eventually. +But, dear Archduchess, with your kindly leave +I'll speak straight out. The Emperor of the French +Has sent to-day to make, through Schwarzenberg, +A formal offer of his heart and hand, +His honours, dignities, imperial throne, +To you, whom he admires above all those +The world can show elsewhere. + + +MARIA LOUISA (frightened) + + My husband--he? +What, an old man like him! + + +METTERNICH (cautiously) + + He's scarcely old, +Dear lady. True, deeds densely crowd in him; +Turn months to years calendaring his span; +Yet by Time's common clockwork he's but young. + + +MARIA LOUISA + +So wicked, too! + + +METTERNICH (nettled) + + Well-that's a point of view. + + +MARIA LOUISA + +But, Chancellor, think what things I have said to him! +Can women marry where they have taunted so? + + +METTERNICH + +Things? Nothing inexpungeable, I deem, +By time and true good humour. + + +MARIA LOUISA + + O I have! +Horrible things. Why--ay, a hundred times-- +I have said I wished him dead! At that strained hour +When the first voicings of the late war came, +Thrilling out how the French were smitten sore +And Bonaparte retreating, I clapped hands +And answered that I hoped he'd lose his head +As well as lose the battle! + + +METTERNICH + + Words. But words! +Born like the bubbles of a spring that come +Of zest for springing--aimless in their shape. + + +MARIA LOUISA + +It seems indecent, mean, to wed a man +Whom one has held such fierce opinions of! + + +METTERNICH + +My much beloved Archduchess, and revered, +Such things have been! In Spain and Portugal +Like enmities have led to intermarriage. +In England, after warring thirty years +The Red and White Rose wedded. + + +MARIA LOUISA (after a silence) + + Tell me, now, +What does my father wish? + + +METTERNICH + + His wish is yours. +Whatever your Imperial Highness feels +On this grave verdict of your destiny, +Home, title, future sphere, he bids you think +Not of himself, but of your own desire. + + +MARIA LOUISA (reflecting) + +My wish is what my duty bids me wish. +Where a wide Empire's welfare is in poise, +That welfare must be pondered, not my will. +I ask of you, then, Chancellor Metternich, +Straightway to beg the Emperor my father +That he fulfil his duty to the realm, +And quite subordinate thereto all thought +Of how it personally impinge on me. + + [A slight noise as of something falling is heard in the room. They + glance momentarily, and see that a small enamel portrait of MARIE + ANTOINETTE, which was standing on a console-table, has slipped down + on its face.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + What mischief's this? The Will must have its way. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + Perhaps Earth shivered at the lady's say? + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + I own hereto. When France and Austria wed + My echoes are men's groans, my dews are red; + So I have reason for a passing dread! + + +METTERNICH + +Right nobly phrased, Archduchess; wisely too. +I will acquaint your sire the Emperor +With these your views. He waits them anxiously. (Going.) + + +MARIA LOUISA + +Let me go first. It much confuses me +To think--But I would fain let thinking be! + + [She goes out trembling. Enter FRANCIS by another door.] + + +METTERNICH + +I was about to seek your Majesty. +The good Archduchess luminously holds +That in this weighty question you regard +The Empire. Best for it is best for her. + + +FRANCIS (moved) + +My daughter's views thereon do not surprise me. +She is too staunch to pit a private whim +Against the fortunes of a commonwealth. +During your speech with her I have taken thought +To shape decision sagely. An assent +Would yield the Empire many years of peace, +And leave me scope to heal those still green sores +Which linger from our late unhappy moils. +Therefore, my daughter not being disinclined, +I know no basis for a negative. +Send, then, a courier prompt to Paris: say +The offer made for the Archduchess' hand +I do accept--with this defined reserve, +That no condition, treaty, bond, attach +To such alliance save the tie itself. +There are some sacrifices whose grave rites +No bargain must contaminate. This is one-- +This personal gift of a beloved child! + + +METTERNICH (leaving) + +I'll see to it this hour, your Majesty, +And cant the words in keeping with your wish. +To himself as he goes.) +Decently done! . . . He slipped out "sacrifice," +And scarce could hide his heartache for his girl. +Well ached it!--But when these things have to be +It is as well to breast them stoically. + + [Exit METTERNICH. The clouds draw over.] + + + +SCENE IV + +LONDON. A CLUB IN ST. JAMES'S STREET + + [A winter midnight. Two members are conversing by the fire, and + others are seen lolling in the background, some of them snoring.] + + +FIRST MEMBER + +I learn from a private letter that it was carried out in the +Emperor's Cabinet at the Tuileries--just off the throne-room, where +they all assembled in the evening,--Boney and the wife of his bosom +(In pure white muslin from head to foot, they say), the Kings and +Queens of Holland, Whestphalia, and Naples, the Princess Pauline, +and one or two more; the officials present being Cambaceres the +Chancellor, and Count Regnaud. Quite a small party. It was over +in minutes--short and sweet, like a donkey's gallop. + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Anything but sweet for her. How did she stand it? + + +FIRST MEMBER + +Serenely, I believe, while the Emperor was making his speech +renouncing her; but when it came to her turn to say she renounced +him she began sobbing mightily, and was so completely choked up that +she couldn't get out a word. + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Poor old dame! I pity her, by God; though she had a rattling good +spell while it lasted. + + +FIRST MEMBER + +They say he was a bit upset, too, at sight of her tears But I +dare vow that was put on. Fancy Boney caring a curse what a woman +feels. She had learnt her speech by heart, but that did not help +her: Regnaud had to finish it for her, the ditch that overturned +her being where she was made to say that she no longer preserved +any hope of having children, and that she was pleased to show her +attachment by enabling him to obtain them by another woman. She +was led off fainting. A turning of the tables, considering how +madly jealous she used to make him by her flirtations! + + [Enter a third member.] + + +SECOND MEMBER + +How is the debate going? Still braying the Government in a mortar? + + +THIRD MEMBER + +They are. Though one thing every body admits: young Peel has +made a wonderful first speech in seconding the address. There +has been nothing like it since Pitt. He spoke rousingly of +Austria's misfortunes--went on about Spain, of course, showing +that we must still go on supporting her, winding up with a +brilliant peroration about--what were the words--"the fiery eyes +of the British soldier!"--Oh, well: it was all learnt before-hand, +of course. + + +SECOND MEMBER + +I wish I had gone down. But the wind soon blew the other way. + + +THIRD MEMBER + +Then Gower rapped out his amendment. That was good, too, by God. + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Well, the war must go on. And that being the general conviction +this censure and that censure are only so many blank cartridges. + + +THIRD MEMBER + +Blank? Damn me, were they! Gower's was a palpable hit when he said +that Parliament had placed unheard-of resources in the hands of the +Ministers last year, to make this year's results to the country +worse than if they had been afforded no resources at all. Every +single enterprise of theirs had been a beggarly failure. + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Anybody could have said it, come to that. + + +THIRD MEMBER + +Yes, because it is so true. However, when he began to lay on with +such rhetoric as "the treasures of the nation lavished in wasteful +thoughtlessness,"--"thousands of our troops sacrificed wantonly in +pestilential swamps of Walcheren," and gave the details we know so +well, Ministers wriggled a good one, though 'twas no news to 'em. +Castlereagh kept on starting forward as if he were going to jump up +and interrupt, taking the strictures entirely as a personal affront. + + [Enter a fourth member.] + + +SEVERAL MEMBERS + +Who's speaking now? + + +FOURTH MEMBER + +I don't know. I have heard nobody later than Ward. + + +SECOND MEMBER + +The fact is that, as Whitbread said to me to-day, the materials for +condemnation are so prodigious that we can scarce marshal them into +argument. We are just able to pour 'em out one upon t'other. + + +THIRD MEMBER + +Ward said, with the blandest air in the world: "Censure? Do his +Majesty's Ministers expect censure? Not a bit. They are going +about asking in tremulous tones if anybody has heard when their +impeachment is going to begin." + + +SEVERAL MEMBERS + +Haw--haw--haw! + + +THIRD MEMBER + +Then he made another point. After enumerating our frightful +failures--Spain, Walcheren, and the rest--he said: "But Ministers +have not failed in everything. No; in one thing they have been +strikingly successful. They have been successful in their attack +upon Copenhagen--because it was directed against an ally!" Mighty +fine, wasn't it? + + +SECOND MEMBER + +How did Castlereagh stomach that? + + +THIRD MEMBER + +He replied then. Donning his air of injured innocence he proved the +honesty of his intentions--no doubt truly enough. But when he came +to Walcheren nothing could be done. The case was hopeless, and he +knew it, and foundered. However, at the division, when he saw what +a majority was going out on his side he was as frisky as a child. +Canning's speech was grave, with bits of shiny ornament stuck on-- +like the brass nails on a coffin, Sheridan says. + + [Fifth and sixth members stagger in, arm-and-arm.] + + +FIFTH MEMBER + +The 'vision is---'jority of ninety-six againsht--Gov'ment--I mean-- +againsht us. Which is it--hey? (To his companion.) + + +SIXTH MEMBER + +Damn majority of--damn ninety-six--against damn amendment! (They +sink down on a sofa.) + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Gad, I didn't expect the figure would have been quite so high! + + +THIRD MEMBER + +The one conviction is that the war in the Peninsula is to go on, and +as we are all agreed upon that, what the hell does it matter what +their majority was? + + [Enter SHERIDAN. They all look inquiringly.] + + +SHERIDAN + +Have ye heard the latest? + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Ninety-six against us. + + +SHERIDAN + +O no-that's ancient history. I'd forgot it. + + +THIRD MEMBER + +A revolution, because Ministers are not impeached and hanged? + + +SHERIDAN + +That's in contemplation, when we've got their confessions. But what +I meant was from over the water--it is a deuced sight more serious +to us than a debate and division that are only like the Liturgy on +a Sunday--known beforehand to all the congregation. Why, Bonaparte +is going to marry Austria forthwith--the Emperor's daughter Maria +Louisa. + + +THIRD MEMBER + +The Lord look down! Our late respected crony of Austria! Why, in +this very night's debate they have been talking about the laudable +principles we have been acting upon in affording assistance to the +Emperor Francis in his struggle against the violence and ambition +of France! + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Boney safe on that side, what may not befall! + + +THIRD MEMBER + +We had better make it up with him, and shake hands all round. + + +SECOND MEMBER + +Shake heads seems most natural in the case. O House of Hapsburg, +how hast thou fallen! + + [Enter WHITBREAD, LORD HUTCHINSON, LORD GEORGE CAVENDISH, GEORGE + PONSONBY, WINDHAM, LORD GREY, BARING, ELLIOT, and other members, + some drunk. The conversation becomes animated and noisy; several + move off to the card-room, and the scene closes.] + + + +SCENE V + +THE OLD WEST HIGHWAY OUT OF VIENNA + + [The spot is where the road passes under the slopes of the Wiener + Wald, with its beautiful forest scenery.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +A procession of enormous length, composed of eighty carriages-- +many of them drawn by six horses and one by eight--and escorted +by detachments of cuirassiers, yeomanry, and other cavalry, is +quickening its speed along the highway from the city. + +The six-horse carriages contain a multitude of Court officials, +ladies of the Court, and other Austrian nobility. The eight-horse +coach contains a rosy, blue-eyed girl of eighteen, with full red +lips, round figure, and pale auburn hair. She is MARIA LOUISA, and +her eyes are red from recent weeping. The COUNTESS DE LAZANSKY, +Grand Mistress of the Household, in the carriage with her, and the +other ladies of the Palace behind, have a pale, proud, yet resigned +look, as if conscious that upon their sex had been laid the burden +of paying for the peace with France. They have been played out of +Vienna with French marches, and the trifling incident has helped on +their sadness. + +The observer's vision being still bent on the train of vehicles and +cavalry, the point of sight is withdrawn high into the air, till the +huge procession on the brown road looks no more than a file of ants +crawling along a strip of garden-matting. The spacious terrestrial +outlook now gained shows this to be the great road across Europe from +Vienna to Munich, and from Munich westerly to France. + +The puny concatenation of specks being exclusively watched, the +surface of the earth seems to move along in an opposite direction, +and in infinite variety of hill, dale, woodland, and champaign. +Bridges are crossed, ascents are climbed, plains are galloped over, +and towns are reached, among them Saint Polten, where night falls. + +Morning shines, and the royal crawl is resumed, and continued through +Linz, where the Danube is reapproached, and the girl looks pleased +to see her own dear Donau still. Presently the tower of Brannau +appears, where the animated dots pause for formalities, this being +the frontier; and MARIA LOUISA becomes MARIE LOUISE and a Frenchwoman, +in the charge of French officials. + +After many breaks and halts, during which heavy rains spread their +gauzes over the scene, the roofs and houses of Munich disclose +themselves, suggesting the tesserae of an irregular mosaic. A long +stop is made here. + +The tedious advance continues. Vine-circled Stuttgart, flat +Carlsruhe, the winding Rhine, storky Strassburg, pass in panorama +beneath us as the procession is followed. With Nancy and Bar-le- +Duc sliding along, the scenes begin to assume a French character, +and soon we perceive Chalons and ancient Rheims. The last day of +the journey has dawned. Our vision flits ahead of the cortege to +Courcelles, a little place which must be passed through before +Soissons is reached. Here the point of sight descends to earth, +and the Dumb Show ends. + + + +SCENE VI + +COURCELLES + + [It is now seen to be a quiet roadside village, with a humble + church in its midst, opposite to which stands an inn, the highway + passing between them. Rain is still falling heavily. Not a soul + is visible anywhere. + + Enter from the west a plain, lonely carriage, traveling in a + direction to meet the file of coaches that we have watched. It + stops near the inn, and two men muffled in cloaks alight by the + door away from the hostel and towards the church, as if they + wished to avoid observation. Their faces are those of NAPOLEON + and MURAT, his brother-in-law. Crossing the road through the mud + and rain they stand in the church porch, and watch the descending + drifts.] + + +NAPOLEON (stamping an impatient tattoo) + +One gets more chilly in a wet March than in a dry, however cold, the +devil if he don't! What time do you make it now? That clock doesn't +go. + + +MURAT (drily, looking at his watch) + +Yes, it does; and it is right. If clocks were to go as fast as your +wishes just now it would be awkward for the rest of the world. + + +NAPOLEON (chuckling good-humouredly) + +How we have dished the Soissons folk, with their pavilions, and +purple and gold hangings for bride and bridegroom to meet in, and +stately ceremonial to match, and their thousands looking on! Here +we are where there's nobody. Ha, ha! + + +MURAT + +But why should they be dished, sire? The pavilions and ceremonies +were by your own orders. + + +NAPOLEON + +Well, as the time got nearer I couldn't stand the idea of dawdling +about there. + + +MURAT + +The Soissons people will be in a deuce of a taking at being made +such fools of! + + +NAPOLEON + + +So let 'em. I'll make it up with them somehow.--She can't be far +off now, if we have timed her rightly. (He peers out into the rain +and listens.) + + +MURAT + +I don't quite see how you are going to manage when she does come. +Do we go before her toward Soissons when you have greeted her here, +or follow in her rear? Or what do we do? + + +NAPOLEON + +Heavens, I know no more than you! Trust to the moment and see what +happens. (A silence.) Hark--here she comes! Good little girl; up +to time! + + [The distant squashing in the mud of a multitude of hoofs and + wheels is succeeded by the appearance of outriders and carriages, + horses and horsemen, splashed with sample clays of the districts + traversed. The vehicles slow down to the inn. NAPOLEON'S face + fires up, and, followed by MURAT, he rushes into the rain towards + the coach that is drawn by eight horses, containing the blue-eyed + girl. He holds off his hat at the carriage-window.] + + +MARIE LOUISE (shrinking back inside) + +Ah, Heaven! Two highwaymen are upon us! + + +THE EQUERRY D'AUDENARDE (simultaneously) + +The Emperor! + + [The steps of the coach are hastily lowered, NAPOLEON, dripping, + jumps in and embraces her. The startled ARCHDUCHESS, with much + blushing and confusion recognizes him.] + + +MARIE LOUISE (tremulously, as she recovers herself) + +You are so much--better looking than your portraits--that I hardly +knew you! I expected you at Soissons. We are not at Soissons yet? + + +NAPOLEON + +No, my dearest spouse, but we are together! (Calling out to the +equerry.) Drive through Soissons--pass the pavilion of reception +without stopping, and don't halt till we reach Compiegne. + + [He sits down in the coach and is shut in, MURAT laughing silently + at the scene. Exeunt carriages and riders toward Soissons.] + + +CHORUS OF THE IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + First 'twas a finished coquette, + And now it's a raw ingenue.-- + Blond instead of brunette, + An old wife doffed for a new. + She'll bring him a baby, + As quickly as maybe, + And that's what he wants her to do, + Hoo-hoo! + And that's what he wants her to do! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + What lewdness lip those wry-formed phantoms there! + + +IRONIC SPIRITS + + Nay, Showman Years! With holy reverent air + We hymn the nuptials of the Imperial pair. + + [The scene thickens to mist and obscures the scene.] + + + +SCENE VII + +PETERSBURG. THE PALACE OF THE EMPRESS-MOTHER + + [One of the private apartments is disclosed, in which the Empress- + mother and Alexander are seated.] + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +So one of Austrian blood his pomp selects +To be his bride and bulwark--not our own. +Thus are you coolly shelved! + + +ALEXANDER + + Me, mother dear? +You, faith, if I may say it dutifully! +Had all been left to me, some time ere now +He would have wedded Kate. + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + + How so, my son? +Catharine was plighted, and it could not be. + + +ALEXANDER + +Rather you swiftly pledged and married her, +To let Napoleon have no chance that way. +But Anne remained. + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + + How Anne?--so young a girl! +Sane Nature would have cried indecency +At such a troth. + + +ALEXANDER + + Time would have tinkered that, +And he was well-disposed to wait awhile; +But the one test he had no temper for +Was the apparent slight of unresponse +Accorded his impatient overtures +By our suspensive poise of policy. + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +A backward answer is our country's card-- +The special style and mode of Muscovy. +We have grown great upon it, my dear son, +And may such practice rule our centuries through! +The necks of those who rate themselves our peers +Are cured of stiffness by its potency. + + +ALEXANDER + +The principle in this case, anyhow, +Is shattered by the facts: since none can doubt +Your policy was counted an affront, +And drove my long ally to Austria's arms, +With what result to us must yet be seen! + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +May Austria win much joy of the alliance! +Marrying Napoleon is a midnight leap +For any Court in Europe, credit me, +If ever such there were! What he may carve +Upon the coming years, what murderous bolt +Hurl at the rocking Constitutions round, +On what dark planet he may land himself +In his career through space, no sage can say. + + +ALEXANDER + +Well--possibly! . . . And maybe all is best +That he engrafts his lineage not on us.-- +But, honestly, Napoleon none the less +Has been my friend, and I regret the dream +And fleeting fancy of a closer tie! + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +Ay; your regrets are sentimental ever. +That he'll be writ no son-in-law of mine +Is no regret to me! But an affront +There is, no less, in his evasion on't, +Wherein the bourgeois quality of him +Veraciously peeps out. I would be sworn +He set his minions parleying with the twain-- +Yourself and Francis--simultaneously, +Else no betrothal could have speeded so! + + +ALEXANDER + +Despite the hazard of offence to one? + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +More than the hazard; the necessity. + + +ALEXANDER + +There's no offence to me. + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + + There should be, then. +I am a Romanoff by marriage merely, +But I do feel a rare belittlement +And loud laconic brow-beating herein! + + +ALEXANDER + +No, mother, no! I am the Tsar--not you, +And I am only piqued in moderateness. +Marriage with France was near my heart--I own it-- +What then? It has been otherwise ordained. + + [A silence.] + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +Here comes dear Anne Speak not of it before her. + + [Enter the GRAND-DUCHESS, a girl of sixteen.] + + +ANNE + +Alas! the news is that poor Prussia's queen, +Spirited Queen Louisa, once so fair, +Is slowly dying, mother! Did you know? + + +ALEXANDER (betraying emotion) + +Ah!--such I dreaded from the earlier hints. +Poor soul--her heart was slain some time ago. + + +ANNE + +What do you mean by that, my brother dear? + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +He means, my child, that he as usual spends +Much sentiment upon the foreign fair, +And hence leaves little for his folk at home. + + +ALEXANDER + +I mean, Anne, that her country's overthrow +Let death into her heart. The Tilsit days +Taught me to know her well, and honour her. +She was a lovely woman even then! . . . +Strangely, the present English Prince of Wales +Was wished to husband her. Had wishes won, +They might have varied Europe's history. + + +ANNE + +Napoleon, I have heard, admired her once; +How he must grieve that soon she'll be no more! + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +Napoleon and your brother loved her both. + + [Alexander shows embarrassment.] + +But whatsoever grief be Alexander's, +His will be none who feels but for himself. + + +ANNE + +O mother, how can you mistake him so! +He worships her who is to be his wife, +The fair Archduchess Marie. + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + + Simple child, +As yet he has never seen her, or but barely. +That is a tactic suit, with love to match! + + +ALEXANDER (with vainly veiled tenderness) + +High-souled Louisa;--when shall I forget +Those Tilsit gatherings in the long-sunned June! +Napoleon's gallantries deceived her quite, +Who fondly felt her pleas for Magdeburg +Had won him to its cause; the while, alas! +His cynic sense but posed in cruel play! + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +Bitterly mourned she her civilities +When time unlocked the truth, that she had choked +Her indignation at his former slights +And slanderous sayings for a baseless hope, +And wrought no tittle for her country's gain. +I marvel why you mourn a frustrate tie +With one whose wiles could wring a woman so! + + +ALEXANDER (uneasily) + +I marvel also, when I think of it! + + +EMPRESS-MOTHER + +Don't listen to us longer, dearest Anne. + + [Exit Anne.] + +--You will uphold my judging by and by, +That as a suitor we are quit of him, +And that blind Austria will rue the hour +Wherein she plucks for him her fairest flower! + + [The scene shuts.] + + + +SCENE VIII + +PARIS. THE GRAND GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE AND THE SALON-CARRE ADJOINING + + [The view is up the middle of the Gallery, which is now a spectacle + of much magnificence. Backed by the large paintings on the walls + are double rows on each side of brightly dressed ladies, the pick + of Imperial society, to the number of four thousand, one thousand + in each row; and behind these standing up are two rows on each side + of men of privilege and fashion. Officers of the Imperial Guard + are dotted about as marshals. + + Temporary barriers form a wide passage up the midst, leading to the + Salon-Carre, which is seen through the opening to be fitted up as + a chapel, with a gorgeous altar, tall candles, and cross. In front + of the altar is a platform with a canopy over it. On the platform + are two gilt chairs and a prie-dieu. + + The expectant assembly does not continuously remain in the seats, + but promenades and talks, the voices at times rising to a din amid + the strains of the orchestra, conducted by the EMPEROR'S Director + of Music. Refreshments in profusion are handed round, and the + extemporized cathedral resolves itself into a gigantic cafe of + persons of distinction under the Empire.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +All day have they been waiting for their galanty-show, and now the +hour of performance is on the strike. It may be seasonable to muse +on the sixteenth Louis and the bride's great-aunt, as the nearing +procession is, I see, appositely crossing the track of the tumbril +which was the last coach of that respected lady. . . . It is now +passing over the site of the scaffold on which she lost her head. +. . . Now it will soon be here. + + [Suddenly the heralds enter the Gallery at the end towards the + Tuileries, the spectators ranging themselves in their places. + In a moment the wedding procession of the EMPEROR and EMPRESS + becomes visible. The civil marriage having already been performed, + Napoleon and Marie Louise advance together along the vacant pathway + towards the Salon-Carre, followed by the long suite of illustrious + personages, and acclamations burst from all parts of the Grand + Gallery. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Whose are those forms that pair in pompous train + Behind the hand-in-hand half-wedded ones, + With faces speaking sense of an adventure + Which may close well, or not so? + + +RECORDING ANGEL (reciting) + + First there walks + The Emperor's brother Louis, Holland's King; + Then Jerome of Westphalia with his spouse; + The mother-queen, and Julie Queen of Spain, + The Prince Borghese and the Princess Pauline, + Beauharnais the Vice-King of Italy, + And Murat King of Naples, with their Queens; + Baden's Grand-Duke, Arch-Chancellor Cambaceres, + Berthier, Lebrun, and, not least, Talleyrand. + Then the Grand Marshal and the Chamberlain, + The Lords-in-Waiting, the Grand Equerry, + With waiting-ladies, women of the chamber, + An others called by office, rank, or fame. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + New, many, to Imperial dignities; + Which, won by character and quality + In those who now enjoy them, will become + The birthright of their sons in aftertime. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + It fits thee not to augur, quick-eared Shade. + Ephemeral at the best all honours be, + These even more ephemeral than their kind, + So random-fashioned, swift, perturbable! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Napoleon looks content--nay, shines with joy. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Yet see it pass, as by a conjuror's wand. + + [Thereupon Napoleon's face blackens as if the shadow of a winter + night had fallen upon it. Resentful and threatening, he stops the + procession and looks up and down the benches.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +This is sound artistry of the Immanent Will: it relieves the monotony +of so much good-humour. + + +NAPOLEON (to the Chapel-master) + +Where are the Cardinals? And why not here? (He speaks so loud that +he is heard throughout the Gallery.) + + +ABBE DE PRADT (trembling) + +Many are present here, your Majesty; +But some are feebled by infirmities +Too common to their age, and cannot come. + + +NAPOLEON + +Tell me no nonsense! Half absent themselves +Because they WILL not come. The factious fools! +Well, be it so. But they shall flinch for it! + + [MARIE LOUISE looks frightened. The procession moves on.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I seem to see the thin and headless ghost + Of the yet earlier Austrian, here, too, queen, + Walking beside the bride, with frail attempts + To pluck her by the arm! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Nay, think not so. + No trump unseals earth's sepulchre's to-day: + We are the only phantoms now abroad + On this mud-moulded ball! Through sixteen years + She has decayed in a back-garden yonder, + Dust all the showance time retains of her, + Senseless of hustlings in her former house, + Lost to all count of crowns and bridalry-- + Even of her Austrian blood. No: what thou seest + Springs of the quavering fancy, stirred to dreams + By yon tart phantom's phrase. + + +MARIE LOUISE (sadly to Napoleon) + + I know not why, +I love not this day's doings half so well +As our quaint meeting-time at Compiegne. +A clammy air creeps round me, as from vaults +Peopled with looming spectres, chilling me +And angering you withal! + + +NAPOLEON + + O, it is nought +To trouble you: merely, my cherished one, +Those devils of Italian Cardinals!-- +Now I'll be bright as ever--you must, too. + + +MARIE LOUISE + +I'll try. + + [Reaching the entrance to the Salon-Carre amid strains of music + the EMPEROR and EMPRESS are received and incensed by the CARDINAL + GRAND ALMONERS. They take their seats under the canopy, and the + train of notabilities seat themselves further back, the persons- + in-waiting stopping behind the Imperial chairs. + + The ceremony of the religious marriage now begins. The choir + intones a hymn, the EMPEROR and EMPRESS go to the altar, remove + their gloves, and make their vows.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + +The English Church should return thanks for this wedding, seeing +how it will purge of coarseness the picture-sheets of that artistic +nation, which will hardly be able to caricature the new wife as it +did poor plebeian Josephine. Such starched and ironed monarchists +cannot sneer at a woman of such a divinely dry and crusted line like +the Hapsburgs! + + [Mass is next celebrated, after which the TE DEUM is chanted in + harmonies that whirl round the walls of the Salon-Carre and quiver + down the long Gallery. The procession then re-forms and returns, + amid the flutterings and applause of the dense assembly. But + Napoleon's face has not lost the sombre expression which settled + on it. The pair and their train pass out by the west door, and + the congregation disperses in the other direction, the cloud- + curtain closing over the scene as they disappear. + + + + +ACT SIXTH + + +SCENE I + +THE LINES OF TORRES VEDRAS + + [A bird's-eye perspective is revealed of the peninsular tract of + Portuguese territory lying between the shining pool of the Tagus on + the east, and the white-frilled Atlantic lifting rhythmically on + the west. As thus beheld the tract features itself somewhat like a + late-Gothic shield, the upper edge from the dexter to the sinister + chief being the lines of Torres Vedras, stretching across from the + mouth of the Zezambre on the left to Alhandra on the right, and + the south or base point being Fort S. Julian. The roofs of Lisbon + appear at the sinister base, and in a corresponding spot on the + opposite side Cape Roca. + + It is perceived in a moment that the northern verge of this nearly + coast-hemmed region is the only one through which access can be + gained to it by land, and a close scrutiny of the boundary there + reveals that means are being adopted to effectually prevent such + access. + + From east to west along it runs a chain of defences, dotted at + intervals by dozens of circular and square redoubts, either made + or in the making, two of the latter being of enormous size. + Between these stretch unclimbable escarpments, stone walls, and + other breastworks, and in front of all a double row of abatis, + formed of the limbs of trees. + + Within the outer line of defence is a second, constructed on the + same shield-shaped tract of country; and is not more than a twelfth + of the length of the others. It is a continuous entrenchment of + ditches and ramparts, and its object--that of covering a forced + embarkation--is rendered apparent by some rocking English + transports off the shore hard by.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Innumerable human figures are busying themselves like cheese-mites +all along the northernmost frontage, undercutting easy slopes into +steep ones, digging ditches, piling stones, felling trees, dragging +them, and interlacing them along the front as required. + +On the second breastwork, which is completed, only a few figures move. + +On the third breastwork, which is fully matured and equipped, minute +red sentinels creep backwards and forwards noiselessly. + +As time passes three reddish-grey streams of marching men loom out +to the north, advancing southward along three roads towards three +diverse points in the first defence. These form the English army, +entering the lines for shelter. Looked down upon, their motion +seems peristaltic and vermicular, like that of three caterpillars. +The division on the left is under Picton, in the centre under Leith +and Cole, and on the extreme right, by Alhandra, under Hill. Beside +one of the roads two or three of the soldiers are dangling from a +tree by the neck, probably for plundering. + +The Dumb Show ends, and the point of view sinks to the earth. + + + +SCENE II + +THE SAME. OUTSIDE THE LINES + + [The winter day has gloomed to a stormful evening, and the road + outside the first line of defence forms the foreground of the stage. + + Enter in the dusk from the hills to the north of the entrenchment, + near Calandrix, a group of horsemen, which includes MASSENA in + command of the French forces, FOY, LOISON, and other officers of + his staff. + + They ride forward in the twilight and tempest, and reconnoitre, + till they see against the sky the ramparts blocking the road they + pursue. They halt silently. MASSENA, puzzled, endeavours with his + glass to make out the obstacle.] + + +MASSENA + +Something stands here to peril our advance, +Or even prevent it! + + +FOY + + These are the English lines-- +Their outer horns and tusks--whereof I spoke, +Constructed by Lord Wellington of late +To keep his foothold firm in Portugal. + + +MASSENA + +Thrusts he his burly, bossed disfigurements +So far to north as this? I had pictured me +The lay much nearer Lisbon. Little strange +Lord Wellington rode placid at Busaco +With this behind his back! Well, it is hard +But that we turn them somewhere, I assume? +They scarce can close up every southward gap +Between the Tagus and the Atlantic Sea. + + +FOY + +I hold they can, and do; although, no doubt, +By searching we shall spy some raggedness +Which customed skill may force. + + +MASSENA + + Plain 'tis, no less, +We may heap corpses vainly hereabout, +And crack good bones in waste. By human power +This passes mounting! What say you's behind? + + +LOISON + +Another line exactly like the first, +But more matured. Behind its back a third. + + +MASSENA + +How long have these prim ponderosities +Been rearing up their foreheads to the moon? + + +LOISON + +Some months in all. I know not quite how long. +They are Lord Wellington's select device, +And, like him, heavy, slow, laborious, sure. + + +MASSENA + +May he enjoy their sureness. He deserves to. +I had no inkling of such barriers here. +A good road runs along their front, it seems, +Which offers us advantage. . . . What a night! + + [The tempest cries dismally about the earthworks above them, as + the reconnoitrers linger in the slight shelter the lower ground + affords. They are about to turn back. + + Enter from the cross-road to the right JUNOT and some more + officers. They come up at a signal that the others are those + they lately parted from.] + + +JUNOT + +We have ridden along as far as Calandrix, +Favoured therein by this disordered night, +Which tongues its language to the disguise of ours; +And find amid the vale an open route +That, well manoeuvred, may be practicable. + + +MASSENA + +I'll look now at it, while the weather aids. +If it may serve our end when all's prepared +So good. If not, some other to the west. + + [Exeunt MASSENA, JUNOT, LOISON, FOY, and the rest by the paved + crossway to the right. + + The wind continues to prevail as the spot is left desolate, the + darkness increases, rain descends more heavily, and the scene is + blotted out.] + + + +SCENE III + +PARIS. THE TUILERIES + + [The anteroom to the EMPRESS MARIE LOUISE'S bed-chamber, in which + are discovered NAPOLEON in his dressing-gown, the DUCHESS OF + MONTEBELLO, and other ladies-in-waiting. CORVISART the first + physician, and the second physician BOURDIER. + + The time is before dawn. The EMPEROR walks up and down, throws + himself on a sofa, or stands at the window. A cry of anguish comes + occasionally from within. + + NAPOLEON opens the door and speaks into the bed-chamber.] + + +NAPOLEON + +How now, Dubois? + + +VOICE OF DUBOIS THE ACCOUCHEUR (nervously) + + Less well, sire, than I hoped; +I fear no skill can save them both. + + +NAPOLEON (agitated) + + Good god! + + [Exit CORVISART into the bed-room. Enter DUBOIS.] + + +DUBOIS (with hesitation) + +Which life is to be saved? The Empress, sire, +Lies in great jeopardy. I have not known +In my long years of many-featured practice +An instance in a thousand fall out so. + + +NAPOLEON + +Then save the mother, pray! Think but of her; +It is her privilege, and my command.-- +Don't lose you head, Dubois, at this tight time: +Your furthest skill can work but what it may. +Fancy that you are merely standing by +A shop-wife's couch, say, in the Rue Saint Denis; +Show the aplomb and phlegm that you would show +Did such a bed receive your ministry. + + [Exit DUBOIS.] + + +VOICE OF MARIE LOUISE (within) + +O pray, pray don't! Those ugly things terrify me! Why should I be +tortured even if I am but a means to an end! Let me die! It was +cruel of him to bring this upon me! + + [Exit NAPOLEON impatiently to the bed-room.] + + +VOICE OF MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU (within) + +Keep up your spirits, madame! I have been through it myself and I +assure you there is no danger to you. It is going on all right, and +I am holding you. + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON (within) + +Heaven above! Why did you not deep those cursed sugar-tongs out of +her sight? How is she going to get through it if you frighten her +like this? + + +VOICE OF DUBOIS (within) + +If you will pardon me, your Majesty, +I must implore you not to interfere! +I'll not be scapegoat for the consequence +If, sire, you do! Better for her sake far +Would you withdraw. The sight of your concern +But agitates and weakens her endurance. +I will inform you all, and call you back +If things should worsen here. + + [Re-enter NAPOLEON from the bed-chamber. He half shuts the door, + and remains close to it listening, pale and nervous.] + + +BOURDIER + + I ask you, sire, +To harass yourself less with this event, +Which may amend anon: I much regret +The honoured mother of your Majesty, +And sister too, should both have left ere now, +Whose solace would have bridged these anxious hours. + + +NAPOLEON (absently) + +As we were not expecting it so soon +I begged they would sit up no longer here. . . . +She ought to get along; she has help enough +With that half-dozen of them at hand within-- +Skilled Madame Blaise the nurse, and two besides, +Madame de Montesquiou and Madame Ballant--- + + +DUBOIS (speaking through the doorway) + +Past is the question, sire, of which to save! +The child is dead; the while her Majesty +Is getting through it well. + + +NAPOLEON + + Praise Heaven for that! +I'll not grieve overmuch about the child. . . . +Never shall She go through this strain again +To lay down a dynastic line for me. + + +DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO (aside to the second lady) + +He only says that now. In cold blood it would be far otherwise. +That's how men are. + + +VOICE OF MADAME BLAISE (within) + +Doctor, the child's alive! (The cry of an infant is heard.) + + +VOICE OF DUBOIS (calling from within) + +Sire, both are saved. + + [NAPOLEON rushes into the chamber, and is heard kissing MARIE + LOUISE.] + + +VOICE OF MADAME BLAISE (within) + +A vigorous boy, your Imperial Majesty. The brandy and hot napkins +brought him to. + + +DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO + +It is as I expected. A healthy young woman of her build had every +chance of doing well, despite the doctors. + + [An interval.] + + +NAPOLEON (re-entering radiantly) + +We have achieved a healthy heir, good dames, +And in the feat the Empress was most brave, +Although she suffered much--so much, indeed, +That I would sooner father no more sons +Than have so fair a fruit-tree undergo +Another wrenching of such magnitude. + + [He walks to the window, pulls aside the curtains, and looks out. + It is a joyful spring morning. The Tuileries' gardens are thronged + with an immense crowd, kept at a little distance off the Palace by + a cord. The windows of the neighbouring houses are full of gazers, + and the streets are thronged with halting carriages, their inmates + awaiting the event.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS (whispering to Napoleon) + + At this high hour there broods a woman nigh, + Ay, here in Paris, with her child and thine, + Who might have played this part with truer eye + To thee and to thy contemplated line! + + +NAPOLEON (soliloquizing) + +Strange that just now there flashes on my soul +That little one I loved in Warsaw days, +Marie Walewska, and my boy by her!-- +She was shown faithless by a foul intrigue +Till fate sealed up her opportunity. . . . +But what's one woman's fortune more or less +Beside the schemes of kings!--Ah, there's the new! + + [A gun is heard from the Invalides.] + + +CROWD (excitedly) + +One! + + [Another report of the gun, and another, succeed.] + +Two! Three! Four! + + [The firing and counting proceed to twenty-one, when there is great + suspense. The gun fires again, and the excitement is doubled.] + +Twenty-two! A boy! + + [The remainder of the counting up to a hundred-and-one is drowned + in the huzzas. Bells begin ringing, and from the Champ de Mars a + balloon ascends, from which the tidings are scattered in hand-bills + as it floats away from France. + + Enter the PRESIDENT OF THE SENATE, CAMBACERES, BERTHIER, LEBRUN, + and other officers of state. NAPOLEON turns from the window.] + + +CAMBACERES + +Unstinted gratulations and goodwill +We bring to your Imperial Majesty, +While still resounds the superflux of joy +With which your people welcome this live star +Upon the horizon of history! + + +PRESIDENT OF THE SENATE + +All blessings at their goodliest will grace +The advent of this New Messiah, sire, +Of fairer prospects than the former one, +Whose coming at so apt an hour endues +The widening glory of your high exploits +With permanence, and flings the dimness far +That cloaked the future of our chronicle! + + +NAPOLEON + +My thanks; though, gentlemen, upon my soul +You might have drawn the line at the Messiah. +But I excuse you.--Yes, the boy has come; +He took some coaxing, but he's here at last.-- +And what news brings the morning from without? +I know of none but this the Empress now +Trumps to the world from the adjoining room. + + +PRESIDENT OF THE SENATE + +Nothing in Europe, sire, that can compare +In magnitude therewith to more effect +Than with an eagle some frail finch or wren. +To wit: the ban on English trade prevailing, +Subjects our merchant-houses to such strain +That many of the best see bankruptcy +Like a grim ghost ahead. Next week, they say +In secret here, six of the largest close. + + +NAPOLEON + +It shall not be! Our burst of natal joy +Must not be sullied by so mean a thing: +Aid shall be rendered. Much as we may suffer, +England must suffer more, and I am content. +What has come in from Spain and Portugal? + + +BERTHIER + +Vaguely-voiced rumours, sire, but nothing more, +Which travel countries quick as earthquake thrills, +No mortal knowing how. + + +NAPOLEON + + Of Massena? + + +BERTHIER + +Yea. He retreats for prudence' sake, it seems, +Before Lord Wellington. Dispatches soon +Must reach your Majesty, explaining all. + + +NAPOLEON + +Ever retreating! Why declines he so +From all his olden prowess? Why, again, +Did he give battle at Busaco lately, +When Lisbon could be marched on without strain? +Why has he dallied by the Tagus bank +And shunned the obvious course? I gave him Ney, +Soult, and Junot, and eighty thousand men, +And he does nothing. Really it might seem +As though we meant to let this Wellington +Be even with us there! + + +BERTHIER + + His mighty forts +At Torres Vedras hamper Massena, +And quite preclude advance. + + +NAPOLEON + + O well--no matter: +Why should I linger on these haps of war +Now that I have a son! + + [Exeunt NAPOLEON by one door and by another the PRESIDENT OF THE + SENATE, CAMBACERES, LEBRUN, BERTHIER, and officials.] + + +CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + The Will Itself is slave to him, + And holds it blissful to obey!-- + He said, "Go to; it is my whim + + "To bed a bride without delay, + Who shall unite my dull new name + With one that shone in Caesar's day. + + "She must conceive--you hear my claim?-- + And bear a son--no daughter, mind-- + Who shall hand on my form and fame + + "To future times as I have designed; + And at the birth throughout the land + Must cannon roar and alp-horns wind!" + + The Will grew conscious at command, + And ordered issue as he planned. + + [The interior of the Palace is veiled.] + + + +SCENE IV + +SPAIN. ALBUERA + + [The dawn of a mid-May day in the same spring shows the village + of Albuera with the country around it, as viewed from the summit + of a line of hills on which the English and their allies are ranged + under Beresford. The landscape swept by the eye includes to the + right foreground a hill loftier than any, and somewhat detached + from the range. The green slopes behind and around this hill are + untrodden--though in a few hours to be the sanguinary scene of the + most murderous struggle of the whole war. + + The village itself lies to the left foreground, with its stream + flowing behind it in the distance on the right. A creeping brook + at the bottom of the heights held by the English joins the stream + by the village. Behind the stream some of the French forces are + visible. Away behind these stretches a great wood several miles + in area, out of which the Albuera stream emerges, and behind the + furthest verge of the wood the morning sky lightens momently. The + birds in the wood, unaware that this day is to be different from + every other day they have known there, are heard singing their + overtures with their usual serenity.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +As objects grow more distinct it can be perceived that some strategic +dispositions of the night are being completed by the French forces, +which the evening before lay in the woodland to the front of the +English army. They have emerged during the darkness, and large +sections of them--infantry, cuirassiers, and artillery--have crept +round to BERESFORD'S right without his suspecting the movement, where +they lie hidden by the great hill aforesaid, though not more than +half-a-mile from his right wing. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + A hot ado goes forward here to-day, + If I may read the Immanent Intent + From signs and tokens blent + With weird unrest along the firmament + Of causal coils in passionate display. + --Look narrowly, and what you witness say. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I see red smears upon the sickly dawn, + And seeming drops of gore. On earth below + Are men--unnatural and mechanic-drawn-- + Mixt nationalities in row and row, + Wheeling them to and fro + In moves dissociate from their souls' demand, + For dynasts' ends that few even understand! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Speak more materially, and less in dream. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + I'll do it. . . . The stir of strife grows well defined + Around the hamlet and the church thereby: + Till, from the wood, the ponderous columns wind, + Guided by Godinot, with Werle nigh. + They bear upon the vill. But the gruff guns + Of Dickson's Portuguese + Punch spectral vistas through the maze of these! . . . + More Frenchmen press, and roaring antiphons + Of cannonry contuse the roofs and walls and trees. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Wrecked are the ancient bridge, the green spring plot, + the blooming fruit-tree, the fair flower-knot! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Yet the true mischief to the English might + Is meant to fall not there. Look to the right, + And read the shaping scheme by yon hill-side, + Where cannon, foot, and brisk dragoons you see, + With Werle and Latour-Maubourg to guide, + Waiting to breast the hill-brow bloodily. + + +BERESFORD now becomes aware of this project on his flank, and sends +orders to throw back his right to face the attack. The order is not +obeyed. Almost at the same moment the French rush is made, the +Spanish and Portuguese allies of the English are beaten beck, and +the hill is won. But two English divisions bear from the centre of +their front, and plod desperately up the hill to retake it. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + Now he among us who may wish to be + A skilled practitioner in slaughtery, + Should watch this hour's fruition yonder there, + And he will know, if knowing ever were, + How mortals may be freed their fleshly cells, + And quaint red doors set ope in sweating fells, + By methods swift and slow and foul and fair! + + +The English, who have plunged up the hill, are caught in a heavy +mist, that hides from them an advance in their rear of the lancers +and hussars of the enemy. The lines of the Buffs, the Sixty-sixth, +and those of the Forty-eighth, who were with them, in a chaos of +smoke, steel, sweat, curses, and blood, are beheld melting down +like wax from an erect position to confused heaps. Their forms +lie rigid, or twitch and turn, as they are trampled over by the +hoofs of the enemy's horse. Those that have not fallen are taken. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + It works as you, uncanny Phantom, wist! . . . + Whose is that towering form + That tears across the mist + To where the shocks are sorest?--his with arm + Outstretched, and grimy face, and bloodshot eye, + Like one who, having done his deeds, will die? + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + He is one Beresford, who heads the fight + For England here to-day. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + He calls the sight + Despite itself!--parries yon lancer's thrust, + And with his own sword renders dust to dust! + + +The ghastly climax of the strife is reached; the combatants are +seen to be firing grape and canister at speaking distance, and +discharging musketry in each other's faces when so close that +their complexions may be recognized. Hot corpses, their mouths +blackened by cartridge-biting, and surrounded by cast-away +knapsacks, firelocks, hats, stocks, flint-boxes, and priming +horns, together with red and blue rags of clothing, gaiters, +epaulettes, limbs and viscera accumulate on the slopes, increasing +from twos and threes to half-dozens, and from half-dozens to heaps, +which steam with their own warmth as the spring rain falls gently +upon them. + +The critical instant has come, and the English break. But a +comparatively fresh division, with fusileers, is brought into the +turmoil by HARDINGE and COLE, and these make one last strain to +save the day, and their names and lives. The fusileers mount the +incline, and issuing from the smoke and mist startle the enemy by +their arrival on a spot deemed won. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + They come, beset by riddling hail; + They sway like sedges is a gale; + The fail, and win, and win, and fail. Albuera! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + They gain the ground there, yard by yard, + Their brows and hair and lashes charred, + Their blackened teeth set firm and hard. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Their mad assailants rave and reel, + And face, as men who scorn to feel, + The close-lined, three-edged prongs of steel. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Till faintness follows closing-in, + When, faltering headlong down, they spin + Like leaves. But those pay well who win Albuera. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Out of six thousand souls that sware + To hold the mount, or pass elsewhere, + But eighteen hundred muster there. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Pale Colonels, Captains, ranksmen lie, + Facing the earth or facing sky;-- + They strove to live, they stretch to die. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Friends, foemen, mingle; heap and heap.-- + Hide their hacked bones, Earth!--deep, deep, deep, + Where harmless worms caress and creep. + + +CHORUS + + Hide their hacked bones, Earth!--deep, deep, deep, + Where harmless worms caress and creep.-- + What man can grieve? what woman weep? + Better than waking is to sleep! Albuera! + + +The night comes on, and darkness covers the battle-field. + + + +SCENE V + +WINDSOR CASTLE. A ROOM IN THE KING'S APARTMENT + + [The walls of the room are padded, and also the articles of + furniture, the stuffing being overlaid with satin and velvet, on + which are worked in gold thread monograms and crowns. The windows + are guarded, and the floor covered with thick cork, carpeted. The + time is shortly after the last scene. + + The KING is seated by a window, and two of Dr. WILLIS'S attendants + are in the room. His MAJESTY is now seventy-two; his sight is + very defective, but he does not look ill. He appears to be lost + in melancholy thought, and talks to himself reproachfully, hurried + manner on occasion being the only irregular symptom that he + betrays.] + + +KING + +In my lifetime I did not look after her enough--enough--enough! +And now she is lost to me, and I shall never see her more. Had I +but known, had I but thought of it! Gentlemen, when did I lose the +Princess Amelia? + + +FIRST ATTENDANT + +The second of last November, your Majesty. + + +KING + +And what is it now? + + +FIRST ATTENDANT + +Now, sir, it is the beginning of June. + + +KING + +Ah, June, I remember! . . . The June flowers are not for me. I +shall never see them; nor will she. So fond of them as she was. +. . . Even if I were living I would never go where there are flowers +any more! No: I would go to the bleak, barren places that she never +would walk in, and never knew, so that nothing might remind me of +her, and make my heart ache more than I can bear! . . . Why, the +beginning of June?--that's when they are coming to examine me! (He +grows excited.) + + +FIRST ATTENDANT (to second attendant, aside) + +Dr. Reynolds ought not have reminded him of their visit. It only +disquiets him and makes him less fit to see them. + + +KING + +How long have I been confined here? + + +FIRST ATTENDANT + +Since November, sir; for your health's sake entirely, as your Majesty +knows. + + +KING + +What, what? So long? Ah, yes. I must bear it. This is the fourth +great black gulf in my poor life, is it not? The fourth. + + [A signal from the door. The second attendant opens it and whispers. + Enter softly SIR HENRY HALFORD, DR. WILLIAM HEBERDEN, DR. ROBERT + WILLIS, DR. MATTHEW BAILLIE, the KING'S APOTHECARY, and one or two + other gentlemen.] + + +KING (straining his eye to discern them) + +What! Are they come? What will they do to me? How dare they! I +am Elector of Hanover! (Finding Dr. Willis is among them he shrieks.) +O, they are going to bleed me--yes, to bleed me! (Piteously.) My +friends, don't bleed me--pray don't! It makes me so weak to take my +blood. And the leeches do, too, when you put so many. You will not +be so unkind, I am sure! + + +WILLIS (to Baillie) + +It is extraordinary what a vast aversion he has to bleeding--that +most salutary remedy, fearlessly practised. He submits to leeches +as yet but I won't say that he will for long without being strait- +jacketed. + + +KING (catching some of the words) + +You will strait-jacket me? O no, no! + + +WILLIS + +Leeches are not effective, really. Dr. Home, when I mentioned it to +him yesterday, said he would bleed him till he fainted if he had +charge of him! + + +KING + +O will you do it, sir, against my will, +And put me, once your king, in needless pain? +I do assure you truly, my good friends, +That I have done no harm! In sunnier years +Ere I was throneless, withered to a shade, +Deprived of my divine authority-- +When I was hale, and ruled the English land-- +I ever did my utmost to promote +The welfare of my people, body and soul! +Right many a morn and night I have prayed and mused +How I could bring them to a better way. +So much of me you surely know, my friends, +And will not hurt me in my weakness here! (He trembles.) + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + The tears that lie about this plightful scene + Of heavy travail in a suffering soul, + Mocked with the forms and feints of royalty + While scarified by briery Circumstance, + Might drive Compassion past her patiency + To hold that some mean, monstrous ironist + Had built this mistimed fabric of the Spheres + To watch the throbbings of its captive lives, + (The which may Truth forfend), and not thy said + Unmaliced, unimpassioned, nescient Will! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Mild one, be not touched with human fate. + Such is the Drama: such the Mortal state: + No sigh of thine can null the Plan Predestinate! + + +HALFORD + +We have come to do your Majesty no harm. +Here's Dr. Heberden, whom I am sure you like, +And this is Dr. Baillie. We arrive +But to inquire and gather how you are, +Thereon to let the Privy Council know, +And give assurances for you people's good. + + [A brass band is heard playing in the distant part of Windsor.] + + +KING + +Ah--what does that band play for here to-day? +She has been dead and I so short a time! . . . +Her little hands are hardly cold as yet; +But they can show such cruel indecency +As to let trumpets play! + + +HALFORD + + They guess not, sir, +That you can hear them, or their chords would cease. +Their boisterous music fetches back to me +That, of our errands to your Majesty, +One was congratulation most sincere +Upon this glorious victory you have won. +The news is just in port; the band booms out +To celebrate it, and to honour you. + + +KING + +A victory? I? Pray where? + + +HALFORD + + Indeed so, sir: +Hard by Albuera--far in harried Spain-- +Yes, sir; you have achieved a victory +Of dash unmatched and feats unparalleled! + + +KING + +He says I have won a battle? But I thought +I was a poor afflicted captive here, +In darkness lingering out my lonely days, +Beset with terror of these myrmidons +That suck my blood like vampires! Ay, ay, ay!-- +No aims left to me but to quicken death +To quicklier please my son!--And yet he says +That I have won a battle! O God, curse, damn! +When will the speech of the world accord with truth, +And men's tongues roll sincerely! + + +GENTLEMAN (aside) + + Faith, 'twould seem +As if the madman were the sanest here! + + [The KING'S face has flushed, and he becomes violent. The + attendants rush forward to him.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Something within me aches to pray + To some Great Heart, to take away + This evil day, this evil day! + + +CHORUS IRONIC + + Ha-ha! That's good. Thou'lt pray to It:-- + But where do Its compassions sit? + Yea, where abides the heart of it? + + Is it where sky-fires flame and flit, + Or solar craters spew and spit, + Or ultra-stellar night-webs knit? + + What is Its shape? Man's counterfeit? + That turns in some far sphere unlit + The Wheel which drives the Infinite? + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Mock on, mock on! Yet I'll go pray + To some Great Heart, who haply may + Charm mortal miseries away! + + [The KING'S paroxysm continues. The attendants hold him.] + + +HALFORD + +This is distressing. One can never tell +How he will take things now. I thought Albuera +A subject that would surely solace him. +These paroxysms--have they been bad this week? (To Attendants.) + + +FIRST ATTENDANT + +Sir Henry, no. He has quite often named +The late Princess, as gently as a child +A little bird found starved. + + +WILLIS (aside to apothecary) + +I must increase the opium to-night, and lower him by a double set of +leeches since he won't stand the lancet quietly. + + +APOTHECARY + +You should take twenty ounces, doctor, if a drop--indeed, go on +blooding till he's unconscious. He is too robust by half. And the +watering-pot would do good again--not less than six feet above his +head. See how heated he is. + + +WILLIS + +Curse that town band. It will have to be stopped. + + +HEBERDEN + +The same thing is going on all over England, no doubt, on account of +this victory. + + +HALFORD + +When he is in a more domineering mood he likes such allusions to his +rank as king. . . . If he could resume his walks on the terrace he +might improve slightly. But it is too soon yet. We must consider +what we shall report to the Council. There is little hope of his +being much better. What do you think, Willis? + + +WILLIS + +None. He is done for this time! + + +HALFORD + +Well, we must soften it down a little, so as not to upset the Queen +too much, poor woman, and distract the Council unnecessarily. Eldon +will go pumping up bucketfuls, and the Archbishops are so easily +shocked that a certain conventional reserve is almost forced upon us. + + +WILLIS (returning from the King) + +He is already better. The paroxysm has nearly passed. Your opinion +will be far more favourable before you leave. + + [The KING soon grows calm, and the expression of his face changes + to one of dejection. The attendants leave his side: he bends his + head, and covers his face with his hand, while his lips move as if + in prayer. He then turns to them.] + + +KING (meekly) + +I am most truly sorry, gentlemen, +If I have used language that would seem to show +Discourtesy to you for your good help +In this unhappy malady of mine! +My nerves unstring, my friend; my flesh grows weak: +"The good that I do I leave undone, +The evil which I would not, that I do!" +Shame, shame on me! + + +WILLIS (aside to the others) + +Now he will be as low as before he was in the other extreme. + + +KING + +A king should bear him kingly; I of all, +One of so long a line. O shame on me! . . . +--This battle that you speak of?--Spain, of course? +Ah--Albuera! And many fall--eh? Yes? + + +HALFORD + +Many hot hearts, sir, cold, I grieve to say. +There's Major-General Houghton, Captain Bourke, +And Herbert of the Third, Lieutenant Fox, +And Captains Erck and Montague, and more. +With Majors-General Cole and Stewart wounded, +And Quartermaster-General Wallace too: +A total of three generals, colonels five, +Five majors, fifty captains; and to these +Add ensigns and lieutenants sixscore odd, +Who went out, but returned not. Heavily tithed +Were the attenuate battalions there +Who stood and bearded Death by the hour that day! + + +KING + +O fearful price for victory! Add thereto +All those I lost at Walchere.--A crime +Lay there! . . . I stood on Chatham's being sent: +It wears on me, till I am unfit to live! + + +WILLIS (aside to the others) + +Don't let him get on that Walcheren business. There will be another +outbreak. Heberden, please ye talk to him. He fancies you most. + + +HEBERDEN + +I'll tell him some of the brilliant feats of the battle. (He goes +and talks to the KING.) + + +WILLIS (to the rest) + +Well, my inside begins to cry cupboard. I had breakfast early. We +have enough particulars now to face the Queen's Council with, I +should say, Sir Henry? + + +HALFORD + +Yes.--I want to get back to town as soon as possible to-day. Mrs +Siddons has a party at her house at Westbourne to-night, and all the +world is going to be there. + + +BAILLIE + +Well, I am not. But I have promised to take some friends to Vauxhall, +as it is a grand gala and fireworks night. Miss Farren is going to +sing "The Canary Bird."--The Regent's fete, by the way, is postponed +till the nineteenth, on account of this relapse. Pretty grumpy he +was at having to do it. All the world will be THERE, sure! + + +WILLIS + +And some from the Shades, too, of the fair, sex.--Well, here comes +Heberden. He has pacified his Majesty nicely. Now we can get away. + + [The physicians withdraw softly, and the scene is covered.] + + + +SCENE VI + +LONDON. CARLTON HOUSE AND THE STREETS ADJOINING + + [It is a cloudless midsummer evening, and as the west fades the + stars beam down upon the city, the evening-star hanging like a + jonquil blossom. They are dimmed by the unwonted radiance which + spreads around and above Carlton House. As viewed from aloft the + glare rises through the skylights, floods the forecourt towards + Pall Mall, and kindles with a diaphanous glow the huge tents in + the gardens that overlook the Mall. The hour has arrived of the + Prince Regent's festivity. + + A stream of carriages and sedan-chairs, moving slowly, stretches + from the building along Pall Mall into Piccadilly and Bond Street, + and crowds fill the pavements watching the bejewelled and feathered + occupants. In addition to the grand entrance inside the Pall Mall + colonnade there is a covert little "chair-door" in Warwick Street + for sedans only, by which arrivals are perceived to be slipping in + almost unobserved.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + What domiciles are those, of singular expression, + Whence no guest comes to join the gemmed procession; + That, west of Hyde, this, in the Park-side Lane, + Each front beclouded like a mask of pain? + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Therein the princely host's two spouses dwell; + A wife in each. Let me inspect and tell. + + [The walls of the two houses--one in Park Lane, the other at + Kensington--become transparent.] + + I see within the first his latter wife-- + That Caroline of Brunswick whose brave sire + Yielded his breath on Jena's reeking plain, + And of whose kindred other yet may fall + Ere long, if character indeed be fate.-- + She idles feasting, and is full of jest + As each gay chariot rumbles to the rout. + "I rank like your Archbishops' wives," laughs she; + "Denied my husband's honours. Funny me!" + + [Suddenly a Beau on his way to the Carlton House festival halts at + her house, calls, and is shown in.] + + He brings her news that a fresh favourite rules + Her husband's ready heart; likewise of those + Obscure and unmissed courtiers late deceased, + Who have in name been bidden to the feast + By blundering scribes. + + [The Princess is seen to jump up from table at some words from her + visitor, and clap her hands.] + + These tidings, juxtaposed, + Have fired her hot with curiosity, + And lit her quick invention with a plan. + + +PRINCESS OF WALES + +Mine God, I'll go disguised--in some dead name +And enter by the leetle, sly, chair-door +Designed for those not welcomed openly. +There unobserved I'll note mine new supplanter! +'Tis indiscreet? Let indiscretion rule, +Since caution pensions me so scurvily! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Good. Now for the other sweet and slighted spouse. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + The second roof shades the Fitzherbert Fair; + Reserved, perverse. As coach and coach roll by + She mopes within her lattice; lampless, lone, + As if she grieved at her ungracious fate, + And yet were loth to kill the sting of it + By frankly forfeiting the Prince and town. + "Bidden," says she, "but as one low of rank, + And go I will not so unworthily, + To sit with common dames!"--A flippant friend + Writes then that a new planet sways to-night + The sense of her erratic lord; whereon + The fair Fitzherbert muses hankeringly. + + +MRS. FITZHERBERT (soliloquizing) + +The guest-card which I publicly refused +Might, as a fancy, privately be used! . . . +Yes--one last look--a wordless, wan farewell +To this false life which glooms me like a knell, +And him, the cause; from some hid nook survey +His new magnificence;--then go for aye! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + She cloaks and veils, and in her private chair + Passes the Princess also stealing there-- + Two honest wives, and yet a differing pair! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + With dames of strange repute, who bear a ticket + For screened admission by the private wicket. + + +CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + A wife of the body, a wife of the mind, + A wife somewhat frowsy, a wife too refined: + Could the twain but grow one, and no other dames be, + No husband in Europe more steadfast than he! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Cease fooling on weak waifs who love and wed + But as the unweeting Urger may bestead!-- + See them withinside, douce and diamonded. + + [The walls of Carlton House open, and the spectator finds himself + confronting the revel.] + + + +SCENE VII + +THE SAME. THE INTERIOR OF CARLTON HOUSE + + [A central hall is disclosed, radiant with constellations of + candles, lamps, and lanterns, and decorated with flowering shrubs. + An opening on the left reveals the Grand Council-chamber prepared + for dancing, the floor being chalked with arabesques having in the + centre "G. III. R.," with a crown, arms, and supporters. Orange- + trees and rose-bushes in bloom stand against the walls. On the + right hand extends a glittering vista of the supper-rooms and + tables, now crowded with guests. This display reaches as far as + the conservatory westward, and branches into long tents on the + lawn. + + On a dais at the chief table, laid with gold and silver plate, the + Prince Regent sits like a lay figure, in a state chair of crimson + and gold, with six servants at his back. He swelters in a gorgeous + uniform of scarlet and gold lace which represents him as Field + Marshal, and he is surrounded by a hundred-and-forty of his + particular friends. + + Down the middle of this state-table runs a purling brook crossed + by quaint bridges, in which gold and silver fish frisk about + between banks of moss and flowers. The whole scene is lit with + wax candles in chandeliers, and in countless candelabra on the + tables. + + The people at the upper tables include the Duchess of York, looking + tired from having just received as hostess most of the ladies + present, except those who have come informally, Louis XVIII. of + France, the Duchess of Angouleme, all the English Royal Dukes, + nearly all the ordinary Dukes and Duchesses; also the Lord + Chancellor of the Exchequer and other Ministers, the Lord Mayor + and Lady Mayoress, all the more fashionable of the other Peers, + Peeresses, and Members of Parliament, Generals, Admirals, and + Mayors, with their wives. The ladies of position wear, almost to + the extent of a uniform, a nodding head-dress of ostrich feathers + with diamonds, and gowns of white satin embroidered in gold or + silver, on which, owing to the heat, dribbles of wax from the + chandeliers occasionally fall. + + The Guards' bands play, and attendants rush about in blue and gold + lace.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + The Queen, the Regent's mother, sits not here; + Wanting, too, are his sisters, I perceive; + And it is well. With the distempered King + Immured at Windsor, sore distraught or dying, + It borders nigh on indecency + In their regard, that this loud feast is kept, + A thought not strange to many, as I read, + Even of those gathered here. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + +My dear phantom and crony, the gloom upon their faces is due rather +to their having borrowed those diamonds at eleven per cent than to +their loyalty to a suffering monarch! But let us test the feeling. +I'll spread a report. + + [He calls up the SPIRIT OF RUMOUR, who scatters whispers through + the assemblage.] + + +A GUEST (to his neighbour) + +Have you heard this report--that the King is dead? + + +ANOTHER GUEST + +It has just reached me from the other side. Can it be true? + + +THIRD GUEST + +I think it probable. He has been very ill all week. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Dead? Then my fete is spoilt, by God! + + +SHERIDAN + +Long live the King! (He holds up his glass and bows to the Regent.) + + +MARCHIONESS OF HERTFORD (the new favourite, to the Regent) + +The news is more natural than the moment of it! It is too cruel to +you that it should happen now! + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Damn me, though; can it be true? (He provisionally throws a regal +air into his countenance.) + + +DUCHESS OF YORK (on the Regent's left) + +I hardly can believe it. This forenoon +He was reported mending. + + +DUCHESS OF ANGOULEME (on the Regent's right) + + On this side +They are asserting that the news is false-- +That Buonaparte's child, the "King of Rome," +Is dead, and not your royal father, sire. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +That's mighty fortunate! Had it been true, +I should have been abused by all the world-- +The Queen the keenest of the chorus, too-- +Though I have been postponing this pledged feast +Through days and weeks, in hopes the King would mend, +Till expectation fusted with delay. +But give a dog a bad name--or a Prince! +So, then, it is new-come King of Rome +Who has passed or ever the world has welcomed him! . . . +Call him a king--that pompous upstart's son-- +Beside us scions of the ancient lines! + + +DUKE OF BEDFORD + +I think that rumour untrue also, sir. I heard it as I drove up from +Woburn this evening, and it was contradicted then. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Drove up this evening, did ye, Duke. Why did you cut it so close? + + +DUKE OF BEDFORD + +Well, it so happened that my sheep-sheering dinner was fixed for +this very day, and I couldn't put it off. So I dined with them +there at one o'clock, discussed the sheep, rushed off, drove the +two-and-forty miles, jumped into my clothes at my house here, and +reached your Royal Highness's door in no very bad time. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Capital, capital. But, 'pon my soul, 'twas a close shave! + + [Soon the babbling and glittering company rise from supper, and + begin promenading through the rooms and tents, the REGENT setting + the example, and mixing up and talking unceremoniously with his + guests of every degree. He and the group round him disappear into + the remoter chambers; but may concentrate in the Grecian Hall, + which forms the foreground of the scene, whence a glance can be + obtained into the ball-room, now filled with dancers. + + The band is playing the tune of the season, "The Regency Hornpipe," + which is danced as a country-dance by some thirty couples; so that + by the time the top couple have danced down the figure they are + quite breathless. Two young lords talk desultorily as they survey + the scene.] + + +FIRST LORD + +Are the rumours of the King of Rome's death confirmed? + + +SECOND LORD + +No. But they are probably true. He was a feeble brat from the +first. I believe they had to baptize him on the day he was born. +What can one expect after such presumption--calling him the New +Messiah, and God knows what all. Ours is the only country which +did not write fulsome poems about him. "Wise English!" the Tsar +Alexander said drily when he heard it. + + +FIRST LORD + +Ay! The affection between that Pompey and Caesar has begun to cool. +Alexander's soreness at having his sister thrown over so cavalierly +is not salved yet. + + +SECOND LORD + +There is much beside. I'd lay a guinea there will be war between +Russia and France before another year has flown. + + +FIRST LORD + +Prinny looks a little worried to-night. + + +SECOND LORD + +Yes. The Queen don't like the fete being held, considering the +King's condition. She and her friends say it should have been put +off altogether. But the Princess of Wales is not troubled that way. +Though she was not asked herself she went wildly off and bought her +people new gowns to come in. Poor maladroit woman! . . . . + + [Another new dance of the year is started, and another long line + of couples begin to foot it.] + +That's a pretty thing they are doing now. What d'ye call it? + + +FIRST LORD + +"Speed the Plough." It is just out. They are having it everywhere. +The next is to be one of those foreign things in three-eight time +they call Waltzes. I question if anybody is up to dancing 'em here +yet. + + ["Speed the Plough" is danced to its conclusion, and the band + strikes up "The Copenhagen Waltz."] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Now for the wives. They both were tearing hither, + Unless reflection sped them back again; + But dignity that nothing else may bend + Succumbs to woman's curiosity, + So deem them here. Messengers, call them nigh! + + [The PRINCE REGENT, having gone the round of the other rooms, now + appears at the ball-room door, and stands looking at the dancers. + Suddenly he turns, and gazes about with a ruffled face. He sees + a tall, red-faced man near him--LORD MOIRA, one of his friends.] + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Damned hot here, Moira. Hottest of all for me! + + +MOIRA + +Yes, it is warm, sir. Hence I do not dance. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +H'm. What I meant was of another order; +I spoke figuratively. + + +MOIRA + + O indeed, sir? + + +PRINCE REGENT + +She's here. I heard her voice. I'll swear I did! + + +MOIRA + +Who, sir? + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Why, the Princess of Wales. Do you think I could mistake those +beastly German Ps and Bs of hers?--She asked to come, and was +denied; but she's got here, I'll wager ye, through the chair-door +in Warwick Street, which I arranged for a few ladies whom I wished +to come privately. (He looks about again, and moves till he is by +a door which affords a peep up the grand staircase.) By God, Moira, +I see TWO figures up there who shouldn't be here--leaning over the +balustrade of the gallery! + + +MOIRA + +Two figures, sir. Whose are they? + + +PRINCE REGENT + +She is one. The Fitzherbert in t'other! O I am almost sure it is! +I would have welcomed her, but she bridled and said she wouldn't sit +down at my table as a plain "Mrs." to please anybody. As I had sworn +that on this occasion people should sit strictly according to their +rank, I wouldn't give way. Why the devil did she come like this? +'Pon my soul, these women will be the death o' me! + + +MOIRA (looking cautiously up the stairs) + +I can see nothing of her, sir, nor of the Princess either. There is +a crowd of idlers up there leaning over the bannisters, and you may +have mistaken some others for them. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +O no. They have drawn back their heads. There have been such damned +mistakes made in sending out the cards that the biggest w--- in London +might be here. She's watching Lady Hertford, that's what she's doing. +For all their indifference, both of them are as jealous as two cats +over the tom. + + [Somebody whispers that a lady has fainted up-stairs.] + +That's Maria, I'll swear! She's always doing it. Whenever I hear +of some lady fainting about upon the furniture at my presence, and +sending for a glass of water, I say to myself, There's Maria at it +again, by God! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Now let him hear their voices once again. + + [The REGENT starts as he seems to hear from the stairs the tongues + of the two ladies growing louder and nearer, the PRINCESS pouring + reproaches into one ear, and MRS. FITZHERBERT into the other.] + + +PRINCE REGENT + + +'Od seize 'em, Moira; this will drive me mad! +If men of blood must mate with only one +Of those dear damned deluders called the Sex, +Why has Heaven teased us with the taste for change?-- +God, I begin to loathe the whole curst show! +How hot it is! Get me a glass of brandy, +Or I shall swoon off too. Now let's go out, +And find some fresher air upon the lawn. + + [Exit the PRINCE REGENT, with LORDS MOIRA and YARMOUTH. The band + strikes up "La Belle Catarina" and a new figure is formed.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Phantoms, ye strain your powers unduly here, + Making faint fancies as they were indeed + The Mighty Will's firm work. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Nay, Father, nay; + The wives prepared to hasten hitherward + Under the names of some gone down to death, + Who yet were bidden. Must they not by here? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + There lie long leagues between a woman's word-- + "She will, indeed she will!"--and acting on't. + Whether those came or no, thy antics cease, + And let the revel wear it out in peace. + + [Enter SPENCER PERCEVAL the Prime Minister, a small, pale, grave- + looking man, and an Under-Secretary of State, meeting.] + + +UNDER-SECRETARY + +Is the King of Rome really dead, and the gorgeous gold cradle wasted? + + +PERCEVAL + +O no, he is alive and waxing strong: +That tale has been set travelling more than once. +But touching it, booms echo to our ear +Of graver import, unimpeachable. + + +UNDER-SECRETARY + +Your speech is dark. + + +PERCEVAL + + Well, a new war in Europe. +Before the year is out there may arise +A red campaign outscaling any seen. +Russia and France the parties to the strife-- +Ay, to the death! + + +UNDER-SECRETARY + + By Heaven, sir, do you say so? + + [Enter CASTLEREAGH, a tall, handsome man with a Roman nose, who, + seeing them, approaches.] + + +PERCEVAL + +Ha, Castlereagh. Till now I have missed you here. +This news is startling for us all, I say! + + +CASTLEREAGH + +My mind is blank on it! Since I left office +I know no more what villainy's afoot, +Or virtue either, than an anchoret +Who mortifies the flesh in some lone cave. + + +PERCEVAL + +Well, happily that may not last for long. +But this grave pother that's just now agog +May reach such radius in its consequence +As to outspan our lives! Yes, Bonaparte +And Alexander--late such bosom-friends-- +Are closing to a mutual murder-bout +At which the lips of Europe will wax wan. +Bonaparte says the fault is not with him, +And so says Alexander. But we know +The Austrian knot began their severance, +And that the Polish question largens it. +Nothing but time is needed for the clash. +And if so be that Wellington but keep +His foot in the Peninsula awhile, +Between the pestle and the mortar-stone +Of Russia and of Spain, Napoleon's brayed. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR (to the Spirit of the Years) + + Permit me now to join them and confirm, + By what I bring from far, their forecasting? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + I'll go. Thou knowest not greatly more than they. + + [The SPIRIT OF THE YEARS enters the apartment in the shape of a + pale, hollow-eye gentleman wearing an embroidered suit. At the + same time re-enter the REGENT, LORDS MOIRA, YARMOUTH, KEITH, LADY + HERTFORD, SHERIDAN, the DUKE OF BEDFORD, with many more notables. + The band changes into the popular dance, "Down with the French," + and the characters aforesaid look on at the dancers.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS (to Perceval) + + Yes, sir; your text is true. In closest touch + With European courts and cabinets, + The imminence of dire and deadly war + Betwixt these east and western emperies + Is lipped by special pathways to mine ear. + You may not see the impact: ere it come + The tomb-worm may caress thee (Perceval shrinks); but believe + Before five more have joined the shotten years + Whose useless films infest the foggy Past, + Traced thick with teachings glimpsed unheedingly, + The rawest Dynast of the group concerned + Will, for the good or ill of mute mankind, + Down-topple to the dust like soldier Saul, + And Europe's mouldy-minded oligarchs + Be propped anew; while garments roll in blood + To confused noise, with burning, and fuel of fire. + Nations shall lose their noblest in the strife, + And tremble at the tidings of an hour! + + [He passes into the crowd and vanishes.] + + +PRINCE REGENT (who has heard with parted lips) + +Who the devil is he? + + +PERCEVAL + +One in the suite of the French princes, perhaps, sir?--though his +tone was not monarchical. He seems to be a foreigner. + + +CASTLEREAGH + +His manner was that of an old prophet, and his features had a Jewish +cast, which accounted for his Hebraic style. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +He could not have known me, to speak so freely in my presence! + + +SHERIDAN + +I expected to see him write on the wall, like the gentleman with the +Hand at Belshazzar's Feast. + + +PRINCE REGENT (recovering) + +He seemed to know a damn sight more about what's going on in Europe, +sir (to Perceval), than your Government does, with all its secret +information. + + +PERCEVAL + +He is recently over, I conjecture, your royal Highness, and brings +the latest impressions. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +By Gad, sir, I shall have a comfortable time of it in my regency, or +reign, if what he foresees be true! But I was born for war; it is +my destiny! + + [He draws himself up inside his uniform and stalks away. The group + dissolves, the band continuing stridently, "Down with the French," + as dawn glimmers in. Soon the REGENT'S guests begin severally and + in groups to take leave.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Behold To-morrow riddles the curtains through, + And labouring life without shoulders its cross anew! + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + Why watch we here? Look all around + Where Europe spreads her crinkled ground, + From Osmanlee to Hekla's mound, + Look all around! + + Hark at the cloud-combed Ural pines; + See how each, wailful-wise, inclines; + Mark the mist's labyrinthine lines; + + Behold the tumbling Biscay Bay; + The Midland main in silent sway; + As urged to move them, so move they. + + No less through regal puppet-shows + The rapt Determinator throes, + That neither good nor evil knows! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Yet I may wake and understand + Ere Earth unshape, know all things, and + With knowledge use a painless hand, + A painless hand! + + [Solitude reigns in the chambers, and the scene shuts up.] + + + + + + +PART THIRD + + + +CHARACTERS + + +I. PHANTOM INTELLIGENCES + + THE ANCIENT SPIRIT OF THE YEARS/CHORUS OF THE YEARS. + + THE SPIRIT OF THE PITIES/CHORUS OF THE PITIES. + + SPIRITS SINISTER AND IRONIC/CHORUSES OF SINISTER AND IRONIC SPIRITS. + + THE SPIRIT OF RUMOUR/CHORUS OF RUMOURS. + + THE SHADE OF THE EARTH. + + SPIRIT MESSENGERS. + + RECORDING ANGELS. + + +II. PERSONS + + +MEN (The names in lower case are mute figures.) + + THE PRINCE REGENT. + The Royal Dukes. + THE DUKE OF RICHMOND. + The Duke of Beaufort. + CASTLEREAGH, Prime Minister. + Palmerston, War Secretary. + PONSONBY, of the Opposition. + BURDETT, of the Opposition. + WHITBREAD, of the Opposition. + Tierney, Romilly, of the Opposition + Other Members of Parliament. + TWO ATTACHES. + A DIPLOMATIST. + Ambassadors, Ministers, Peers, and other persons of Quality + and Office. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + WELLINGTON. + UXBRIDGE. + PICTON. + HILL. + CLINTON. + Colville. + COLE. + BERESFORD. + Pack and Kempt. + Byng. + Vivian. + W. Ponsonby, Vandeleur, Colquhoun-Grant, Maitland, Adam, and + C. Halkett. + Graham, Le Marchant, Pakenham, and Sir Stapleton Cotton. + SIR W. DE LANCEY. + FITZROY SOMERSET. + COLONELS FRASER, H. HALKETT, COLBORNE, Cameron, Hepburn, LORD + SALTOUN, C. Campbell. + SIR NEIL CAMPBELL. + Sir Alexander Gordon, BRIGDEMAN, TYLER, and other AIDES. + CAPTAIN MERCER. + Other Generals, Colonels, and Military Officers. + Couriers. + + A SERGEANT OF DRAGOONS. + Another SERGEANT. + A SERGEANT of the 15th HUSSARS. + A SENTINEL. Batmen. + AN OFFICER'S SERVANT. + Other non-Commissioned Officers and Privates of the British Army. + English Forces. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + SIR W. GELL, Chamberlain to the Princess of Wales. + MR. LEGH, a Wessex Gentleman. + Another GENTLEMAN. + THE VICAR OF DURNOVER. + Signor Tramezzini and other members of the Opera Company. + M. Rozier, a dancer. + + LONDON CITIZENS. + A RUSTIC and a YEOMAN. + A MAIL-GUARD. + TOWNSPEOPLE, Musicians, Villagers, etc. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE DUKE OF BRUNSWICK. + THE PRINCE OF ORANGE. + Count Alten. + Von Ompteda, Baring, Duplat, and other Officers of the King's- + German Legion. + Perponcher, Best, Kielmansegge, Wincke, and other Hanoverian + Officers. + Bylandt and other Officers of the Dutch-Belgian troops. + SOME HUSSARS. + King's-German, Hanoverian, Brunswick, and Dutch-Belgian Forces. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + BARON VAN CAPELLEN, Belgian Secretary of State. + The Dukes of Arenberg and d'Ursel. + THE MAYOR OF BRUSSELS. + CITIZENS AND IDLERS of Brussels. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. + JOSEPH BONAPARTE. + Jerome Bonaparte. + THE KING OF ROME. + Eugene de Beauharnais. + Cambaceres, Arch-Chancellor to Napoleon. + TALLEYRAND. + CAULAINCOURT. + DE BAUSSET. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + MURAT, King of Naples. + SOULT, Napoleon's Chief of Staff. + NEY. + DAVOUT. + MARMONT. + BERTHIER. + BERTRAND. + BESSIERES. + AUGEREAU, MACDONALD, LAURISTON, CAMBRONNE. + Oudinot, Friant, Reille, d'Erlon, Drouot, Victor, Poniatowski, + Jourdan, and other Marshals, and General and Regimental + Officers of Napoleon's Army. + RAPP, MORTIER, LARIBOISIERE. + Kellermann and Milhaud. + COLONELS FABVRIER, MARBOT, MALLET, HEYMES, and others. + French AIDES and COURIERS. + DE CANISY, Equerry to the King of Rome. + COMMANDANT LESSARD. + Another COMMANDANT. + BUSSY, an Orderly Officer. + SOLDIERS of the Imperial Guard and others. + STRAGGLERS; A MAD SOLDIER. + French Forces. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + HOUREAU, BOURDOIS, and Ivan, physicians. + MENEVAL, Private Secretary to Napoleon. + DE MONTROND, an emissary of Napoleon's. + Other Secretaries to Napoleon. + CONSTANT, Napoleon's Valet. + ROUSTAN, Napoleon's Mameluke. + TWO POSTILLIONS. + A TRAVELLER. + CHAMBERLAINS and Attendants. + SERVANTS at the Tuileries. + FRENCH CITIZENS and Townspeople. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE KING OF PRUSSIA. + BLUCHER. + MUFFLING, Wellington's Prussian Attache. + GNEISENAU. + Zieten. + Bulow. + Kleist, Steinmetz, Thielemann, Falkenhausen. + Other Prussian General and Regimental Officers. + A PRUSSIAN PRISONER of the French. + Prussian Forces. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + FRANCIS, Emperor of Austria. + METTERNICH, Chancellor and Foreign Minister. + Hardenberg. + NEIPPERG + Schwarzenberg, Kleinau, Hesse-Homburg, and other Austrian Generals. + Viennese Personages of rank and fashion. + Austrian Forces. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER of Russia. + Nesselrode. + KUTUZOF. + Bennigsen. + Barclay de Tolly, Dokhtorof, Bagration, Platoff, Tchichagoff, + Miloradovitch, and other Russian Generals. + Rostopchin, Governor of Moscow. + SCHUVALOFF, a Commissioner. + A RUSSIAN OFFICER under Kutuzof. + Russian Forces. + Moscow Citizens. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + Alava, Wellington's Spanish Attache. + Spanish and Portuguese Officers. + Spanish and Portuguese Forces. + Spanish Citizens. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + Minor Sovereigns and Princes of Europe. + LEIPZIG CITIZENS. + + +WOMEN + + CAROLINE, PRINCESS OF WALES. + The Duchess of York. + THE DUCHESS OF RICHMOND. + The Duchess of Beaufort. + LADY H. DARYMPLE + Lady de Lancey. + LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL. + Lady Anne Hamilton. + A YOUNG LADY AND HER MOTHER. + MRS. DALBIAC, a Colonel's wife. + MRS. PRESCOTT, a Captain's wife. + Other English ladies of note and rank. + Madame Grassini and other Ladies of the Opera. + Madame Angiolini, a dancer. + VILLAGE WOMEN. + SOLDIERS' WIVES AND SWEETHEARTS. + A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER. + + . . . . . . . . . . + + THE EMPRESS MARIE LOUISE. + The Empress of Austria. + MARIA CAROLINA of Naples. + Queen Hortense. + Laetitia, Madame Bonaparte. + The Princess Pauline. + THE DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO. + THE COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU. + THE COUNTESS OF BRIGNOLE. + Other Ladies-in-Waiting on Marie Louise. + + THE EX-EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. + LADIES-IN-WAITING on Josephine. + Another French Lady. + FRENCH MARKET-WOMEN. + A SPANISH LADY. + French and Spanish Women of pleasure. + Continental Citizens' Wives. + Camp-followers. + + + + +ACT FIRST + + +SCENE I + +THE BANKS OF THE NIEMEN, NEAR KOWNO + + [The foreground is a hillock on a broken upland, seen in evening + twilight. On the left, further back, are the dusky forests of + Wilkowsky; on the right is the vague shine of a large river. + + Emerging from the wood below the eminence appears a shadowy + amorphous thing in motion, the central or Imperial column of + NAPOLEON'S Grand Army for the invasion of Russia, comprising + the corps of OUDINOT, NEY, and DAVOUT, with the Imperial Guard. + This, with the right and left columns, makes up the host of + nearly half a million, all starting on their march to Moscow. + + While the rearmost regiments are arriving, NAPOLEON rides ahead + with GENERAL HAXEL and one or two others to reconnoitre the river. + NAPOLEON'S horse stumbles and throws him. He picks himself up + before he can be helped.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS (to Napoleon) + + The portent is an ill one, Emperor; + An ancient Roman would retire thereat! + + +NAPOLEON + +Whose voice was that, jarring upon my thought +So insolently? + + +HAXEL AND OTHERS + + Sire, we spoke no word. + + +NAPOLEON + +Then, whoso spake, such portents I defy! + + [He remounts. When the reconnoitrers again came back to the + foreground of the scene the huge array of columns is standing + quite still, in circles of companies, the captain of each in + the middle with a paper in his hand. He reads from it a + proclamation. They quiver emotionally, like leaves stirred by + the wind. NAPOLEON and his staff reascend the hillock, and his + own words as repeated to the ranks reach his ears, while he + himself delivers the same address to those about him. + + +NAPOLEON + +Soldiers, wild war is on the board again; +The lifetime-long alliance Russia swore +At Tilsit, for the English realm's undoing, +Is violate beyond refurbishment, +And she intractable and unashamed. +Russia is forced on by fatality: +She cries her destiny must be outwrought, +Meaning at our expense. Does she then dream +We are no more the men of Austerlitz, +With nothing left of our old featfulness? + +She offers us the choice of sword or shame; +We have made that choice unhesitatingly! +Then let us forthwith stride the Niemen flood, +Let us bear war into her great gaunt land, +And spread our glory there as otherwhere, +So that a stable peace shall stultify +The evil seed-bearing that Russian wiles +Have nourished upon Europe's choked affairs +These fifty years! + + [The midsummer night darkens. They all make their bivouacs + and sleep.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Something is tongued afar. + + +DISTANT VOICE IN THE WIND + +The hostile hatchings of Napoleon's brain +Against our Empire, long have harassed us, +And mangled all our mild amenities. +So, since the hunger for embranglement +That gnaws this man, has left us optionless, +And haled us recklessly to horrid war, +We have promptly mustered our well-hardened hosts, +And, counting on our call to the most High, +Have forthwith set our puissance face to face +Against Napoleon's.--Ranksmen! officers! +You fend your lives, your land, your liberty. +I am with you. Heaven frowns on the aggressor. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Ha! "Liberty" is quaint, and pleases me, + Sounding from such a soil! + + [Midsummer-day breaks, and the sun rises on the right, revealing + the position clearly. The eminence overlooks for miles the river + Niemen, now mirroring the morning rays. Across the river three + temporary bridges have been thrown, and towards them the French + masses streaming out of the forest descend in three columns. + + They sing, shout, fling their shakos in the air and repeat words + from the proclamation, their steel and brass flashing in the sun. + They narrow their columns as they gain the three bridges, and begin + to cross--horse, foot, and artillery. + + NAPOLEON has come from the tent in which he has passed the night + to the high ground in front, where he stands watching through his + glass the committal of his army to the enterprise. DAVOUT, NEY, + MURAT, OUDINOT, Generals HAXEL and EBLE, NARBONNE, and others + surround him. + + It is a day of drowsing heat, and the Emperor draws a deep breath + as he shifts his weight from one puffed calf to the other. The + light cavalry, the foot, the artillery having passed, the heavy + horse now crosses, their glitter outshining the ripples on the + stream. + + A messenger enters. NAPOLEON reads papers that are brought, and + frowns.] + + +NAPOLEON + +The English heads decline to recognize +The government of Joseph, King of Spain, +As that of "the now-ruling dynast"; +But only Ferdinand's!--I'll get to Moscow, +And send thence my rejoinder. France shall wage +Another fifty years of wasting war +Before a Bourbon shall remount the throne +Of restless Spain! . . . (A flash lights his eyes.) + +But this long journey now just set a-trip +Is my choice way to India; and 'tis there +That I shall next bombard the British rule. +With Moscow taken, Russia prone and crushed, +To attain the Ganges is simplicity-- +Auxiliaries from Tiflis backing me. +Once ripped by a French sword, the scaffolding +Of English merchant-mastership in Ind +Will fall a wreck. . . . Vast, it is true, must bulk +An Eastern scheme so planned; but I could work it. . . . +Man has, worse fortune, but scant years for war; +I am good for another five! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Why doth he go?-- + I see returning in a chattering flock + Bleached skeletons, instead of this array + Invincibly equipped. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + I'll show you why. + + [The unnatural light before seen usurps that of the sun, bringing + into view, like breezes made visible, the films or brain-tissues of + the Immanent Will, that pervade all things, ramifying through the + whole army, NAPOLEON included, and moving them to Its inexplicable + artistries.] + + +NAPOLEON (with sudden despondency) + +That which has worked will work!--Since Lodi Bridge +The force I then felt move me moves me on +Whether I will or no; and oftentimes +Against my better mind. . . . Why am I here? +--By laws imposed on me inexorably! +History makes use of me to weave her web +To her long while aforetime-figured mesh +And contemplated charactery: no more. +Well, war's my trade; and whencesoever springs +This one in hand, they'll label it with my name! + + [The natural light returns and the anatomy of the Will disappears. + NAPOLEON mounts his horse and descends in the rear of his host to + the banks of the Niemen. His face puts on a saturnine humour, and + he hums an air.] + + Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre, + Mironton, mironton, mirontaine; + Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre, + Ne sait quand reviendra! + + [Exeunt NAPOLEON and his staff.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +It is kind of his Imperial Majesty to give me a lead. (Sings.) + + Monsieur d'Malbrough est mort, + Mironton, mironton, mirontaine; + Monsieur d'Malbrough est mort, + Est mort et enterre! + + [Anon the figure of NAPOLEON, diminished to the aspect of a doll, + reappears in front of his suite on the plain below. He rides + across the swaying bridge. Since the morning the sky has grown + overcast, and its blackness seems now to envelope the retreating + array on the other side of the stream. The storm bursts with + thunder and lightning, the river turns leaden, and the scene is + blotted out by the torrents of rain.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE FORD OF SANTA MARTA, SALAMANCA + + [We are in Spain, on a July night of the same summer, the air being + hot and heavy. In the darkness the ripple of the river Tormes can + be heard over the ford, which is near the foreground of the scene. + + Against the gloomy north sky to the left, lightnings flash + revealing rugged heights in that quarter. From the heights comes + to the ear the tramp of soldiery, broke and irregular, as by + obstacles in their descent; as yet they are some distance off. + On heights to the right hand, on the other side of the river, + glimmer the bivouac fires of the French under MARMONT. The + lightning quickens, with rolls of thunder, and a few large drops + of rain fall. + + A sentinel stands close to the ford, and beyond him is the ford- + house, a shed open towards the roadway and the spectator. It is + lit by a single lantern, and occupied by some half-dozen English + dragoons with a sergeant and corporal, who form part of a mounted + patrol, their horses being picketed at the entrance. They are + seated on a bench, and appear to be waiting with some deep intent, + speaking in murmurs only. + + The thunderstorm increases till it drowns the noise of the ford + and of the descending battalions, making them seem further off + than before. The sentinel is about to retreat to the shed when + he discerns two female figures in the gloom. Enter MRS. DALBIAC + and MRS. PRESCOTT, English officers wives.] + + +SENTINEL + +Where there's war there's women, and where there's women there's +trouble! (Aloud) Who goes there? + + +MRS. DALBIAC + +We must reveal who we are, I fear (to her companion). Friends! +(to sentinel). + + +SENTINEL + +Advance and give the countersign. + + +MRS. DALBIAC + +Oh, but we can't! + + +SENTINEL + +Consequent which, you must retreat. By Lord Wellington's strict +regulations, women of loose character are to be excluded from the +lines for moral reasons, namely, that they are often employed by +the enemy as spies. + + +MRS. PRESCOTT + +Dear good soldier, we are English ladies benighted, having mistaken +our way back to Salamanca, and we want shelter from the storm. + + +MRS. DALBIAC + +If it is necessary I will say who we are.--I am Mrs. Dalbiac, wife +of the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Fourth Light Dragoons, and this +lady is the wife of Captain Prescott of the Seventh Fusileers. We +went out to Christoval to look for our husbands, but found the army +had moved. + + +SENTINEL (incredulously) + +"Wives!" Oh, not to-day! I have heard such titles of courtesy +afore; but they never shake me. "W" begins other female words than +"wives!"--You'll have trouble, good dames, to get into Salamanca +to-night. You'll be challenged all the way down, and shot without +clergy if you can't give the countersign. + + +MRS. PRESCOTT + +Then surely you'll tell us what it is, good kind man! + + +SENTINEL + +Well--have ye earned enough to pay for knowing? Government wage is +poor pickings for watching here in the rain. How much can ye stand? + + +MRS. DALBIAC + +Half-a-dozen pesetas. + + +SENTINEL + +Very well, my dear. I was always tender-hearted. Come along. +(They advance and hand the money.) The pass to-night is "Melchester +Steeple." That will take you into the town when the weather clears. +You won't have to cross the ford. You can get temporary shelter in +the shed there. + + [As the ladies move towards the shed the tramp of the infantry + draws near the ford, which the downfall has made to purl more + boisterously. The twain enter the shed, and the dragoons look + up inquiringly.] + + +MRS. DALBIAC (to dragoons) + +The French are luckier than you are, men. You'll have a wet advance +across this ford, but they have a dry retreat by the bridge at Alba. + + +SERGEANT OF PATROL (starting from a doze) + +The moustachies a dry retreat? Not they, my dear. A Spanish +garrison is in the castle that commands the bridge at Alba. + + +MRS. DALBIAC + +A peasant told us, if we understood rightly, that he saw the Spanish +withdraw, and the enemy place a garrison there themselves. + + [The sergeant hastily calls up two troopers, who mount and ride off + with the intelligence.] + + +SERGEANT + +You've done us a good turn, it is true, darlin'. Not that Lord +Wellington will believe it when he gets the news. . . . Why, if my +eyes don't deceive me, ma'am, that's Colonel Dalbiac's lady! + + +MRS. DALBIAC + +Yes, sergeant. I am over here with him, as you have heard, no doubt, +and lodging in Salamanca. We lost our way, and got caught in the +storm, and want shelter awhile. + + +SERGEANT + +Certainly, ma'am. I'll give you an escort back as soon as the +division has crossed and the weather clears. + + +MRS. PRESCOTT (anxiously) + +Have you heard, sergeant, if there's to be a battle to-morrow? + + +SERGEANT + +Yes, ma'am. Everything shows it. + + +MRS. DAlBIAC (to MRS. PRESCOTT) + +Our news would have passed us in. We have wasted six pesetas. + + +MRS. PRESCOTT (mournfully) + +I don't mind that so much as that I have brought the children from +Ireland. This coming battle frightens me! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + This is her prescient pang of widowhood. + Ere Salamanca clang to-morrow's close + She'll find her consort stiff among the slain! + + [The infantry regiments now reach the ford. The storm increases + in strength, the stream flows more furiously; yet the columns of + foot enter it and begin crossing. The lightning is continuous; + the faint lantern in the ford-house is paled by the sheets of + fire without, which flap round the bayonets of the crossing men + and reflect upon the foaming torrent.] + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + The skies fling flame on this ancient land! + And drenched and drowned is the burnt blown sand + That spreads its mantle of yellow-grey + Round old Salmantica to-day; + While marching men come, band on band, + Who read not as a reprimand + To mortal moils that, as 'twere planned + In mockery of their mimic fray, + The skies fling flame. + + Since sad Coruna's desperate stand + Horrors unsummed, with heavy hand, + Have smitten such as these! But they + Still headily pursue their way, + Though flood and foe confront them, and + The skies fling flame. + + [The whole of the English division gets across by degrees, and + their invisible tramp is heard ascending the opposite heights as + the lightnings dwindle and the spectacle disappears.] + + + +SCENE III + +THE FIELD OF SALAMANCA + + [The battlefield--an undulating and sandy expanse--is lying + under the sultry sun of a July afternoon. In the immediate + left foreground rises boldly a detached dome-like hill known + as the Lesser Arapeile, now held by English troops. Further + back, and more to the right, rises another and larger hill of + the kind--the Greater Arapeile; this is crowned with French + artillery in loud action, and the French marshal, MARMONT, Duke + of RAGUSA, stands there. Further to the right, in the same + plane, stretch the divisions of the French army. Still further + to the right, in the distance, on the Ciudad Rodrigo highway, a + cloud of dust denotes the English baggage-train seeking security + in that direction. The city of Salamanca itself, and the river + Tormes on which it stands, are behind the back of the spectator. + + On the summit of the lesser hill, close at hand, WELLINGTON, glass + at eye, watches the French division under THOMIERE, which has become + separated from the centre of the French army. Round and near him + are aides and other officers, in animated conjecture on MARMONT'S + intent, which appears to be a move on the Ciudad Rodrigo road + aforesaid, under the impression that the English are about to + retreat that way. + + The English commander descends from where he was standing to a nook + under a wall, where a meal is roughly laid out. Some of his staff + are already eating there. WELLINGTON takes a few mouthfuls without + sitting down, walks back again, and looks through his glass at the + battle as before. Balls from the French artillery fall around. + Enter his aide-de-camp, FITZROY SOMERSET.] + + +FITZROY SOMERSET (hurriedly) + +The French make movements of grave consequence-- +Extending to the left in mass, my lord. + + +WELLINGTON + +I have just perceived as much; but not the cause. + (He regards longer.) +Marmont's good genius is deserting him! + + [Shutting up his glass with a snap, WELLINGTON calls several aides + and despatches them down the hill. He goes back behind the wall + and takes some more mouthfuls.] + +By God, Fitzroy, if we shan't do it now! + (to SOMERSET). +Mon cher Alava, Marmont est perdu! + (to his SPANISH ATTACHE). + + +FITZROY SOMERSET + +Thinking we mean to attack on him, +He schemes to swoop on our retreating-line. + + +WELLINGTON + +Ay; and to cloak it by this cannonade. +With that in eye he has bundled leftwardly +Thomiere's division; mindless that thereby +His wing and centre's mutual maintenance +Has gone, and left a yawning vacancy. +So be it. Good. His laxness is our luck! + + [As a result of the orders sent off by the aides, several British + divisions advance across the French front on the Greater Arapeile + and elsewhere. The French shower bullets into them; but an English + brigade under PACK assails the nearer French on the Arapeile, now + beginning to cannonade the English in the hollows beneath. + + Light breezes blow toward the French, and they get in their faces + the dust-clouds and smoke from the masses of English in motion, and + a powerful sun in their eyes. + + MARMONT and his staff are sitting on the top of the Greater Arapeile + only half a cannon-shot from WELLINGTON on the Lesser; and, like + WELLINGTON, he is gazing through his glass. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Appearing to behold the full-mapped mind + Of his opponent, Marmont arrows forth + Aide after aide towards the forest's rim, + To spirit on his troops emerging thence, + And prop the lone division Thomiere, + For whose recall his voice has rung in vain. + Wellington mounts and seeks out Pakenham, + Who pushes to the arena from the right, + And, spurting to the left of Marmont's line, + Shakes Thomiere with lunges leonine. + + When the manoeuvre's meaning hits his sense, + Marmont hies hotly to the imperilled place, + Where see him fall, sore smitten.--Bonnet rides + And dons the burden of the chief command, + Marking dismayed the Thomiere column there + Shut up by Pakenham like bellows-folds + Against the English Fourth and Fifth hard by; + And while thus crushed, Dragoon-Guards and Dragoons, + Under Le Marchant's hands (of Guernsey he), + Are launched upon them by Sir Stapleton, + And their scathed files are double-scathed anon. + + Cotton falls wounded. Pakenham's bayoneteers + Shape for the charge from column into rank; + And Thomiere finds death thereat point-blank! + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + In fogs of dust the cavalries hoof the ground; + Their prancing squadrons shake the hills around: + Le Marchant's heavies bear with ominous bound + Against their opposites! + +SEMICHORUS II + + A bullet crying along the cloven air + Gouges Le Marchant's groin and rankles there; + In Death's white sleep he soon joins Thomiere, + And all he has fought for, quits! + + [In the meantime the battle has become concentrated in the middle + hollow, and WELLINGTON descends thither from the English Arapeile. + + The fight grows fiercer. COLE and LEITH now fall wounded; then + BERESFORD, who directs the Portuguese, is struck down and borne + away. On the French side fall BONNET who succeeded MARMONT in + command, MANNE, CLAUSEL, and FEREY, the last hit mortally. + + Their disordered main body retreats into the forest and disappears; + and just as darkness sets in, the English stand alone on the crest, + the distant plain being lighted only by musket-flashes from the + vanquishing enemy. In the close foreground vague figures on + horseback are audible in the gloom. + + +VOICE OF WELLINGTON + +I thought they looked as they'd be scurrying soon! + + +VOICE OF AN AIDE + +Foy bears into the wood in middling trim; +Maucune strikes out for Alba-Castle bridge. + + +VOICE OF WELLINGTON + +Speed the pursuit, then, towards the Huerta ford; +Their only scantling of escape lies there; +The river coops them semicircle-wise, +And we shall have them like a swathe of grass +Within a sickle's curve! + + +VOICE OF AIDE + + Too late, my lord. +They are crossing by the aforesaid bridge at Alba. + + +VOICE OF WELLINGTON + +Impossible. The guns of Carlos rake it +Sheer from the castle walls. + + +VOICE OF AIDE + + Tidings have sped +Just now therefrom, to this undreamed effect: +That Carlos has withdrawn the garrison: +The French command the Alba bridge themselves! + + +VOICE OF WELLINGTON + +Blast him, he's disobeyed his orders, then! +How happened this? How long has it been known? + + +VOICE OF AIDE + +Some ladies some few hours have rumoured it, +But unbelieved. + + +VOICE OF WELLINGTON + +Well, what's done can't be undone. . . . +By God, though, they've just saved themselves thereby +From capture to a man! + + +VOICE OF A GENERAL + + We've not struck ill, +Despite this slip, my lord. . . . And have you heard +That Colonel Dalbiac's wife rode in the charge +Behind her spouse to-day? + + +VOICE OF WELLINGTON + + Did she though: did she! +Why that must be Susanna, whom I know-- +A Wessex woman, blithe, and somewhat fair. . . . +Not but great irregularities +Arise from such exploits.--And was it she +I noticed wandering to and fro below here, +Just as the French retired? + + +VOICE OF ANOTHER OFFICER + + Ah no, my lord. +That was the wife of Prescott of the Seventh, +Hoping beneath the heel of hopelessness, +As these young women will!--Just about sunset +She found him lying dead and bloody there, +And in the dusk we bore them both away.(18) + + +VOICE OF WELLINGTON + +Well, I'm damned sorry for her. Though I wish +The women-folk would keep them to the rear: +Much awkwardness attends their pottering round! + + [The talking shapes disappear, and as the features of the field + grow undistinguishable the comparative quiet is broken by gay + notes from guitars and castanets in the direction of the city, + and other sounds of popular rejoicing at Wellington's victory. + People come dancing out from the town, and the merry-making + continues till midnight, when it ceases, and darkness and silence + prevail everywhere.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + What are Space and Time? A fancy!-- + Lo, by Vision's necromancy + Muscovy will now unroll; + Where for cork and olive-tree + Starveling firs and birches be. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Though such features lie afar + From events Peninsular, + These, amid their dust and thunder, + Form with those, as scarce asunder, + Parts of one compacted whole. + + +CHORUS + + Marmont's aide, then, like a swallow + Let us follow, follow, follow, + Over hill and over hollow, + Past the plains of Teute and Pole! + + [There is semblance of a sound in the darkness as of a rushing + through the air.] + + + +SCENE IV + +THE FIELD OF BORODINO + + [Borodino, seventy miles west of Moscow, is revealed in a bird's- + eye view from a point above the position of the French Grand Army, + advancing on the Russian capital. + + We are looking east, towards Moscow and the army of Russia, which + bars the way thither. The sun of latter summer, sinking behind + our backs, floods the whole prospect, which is mostly wild, + uncultivated land with patches of birch-trees. NAPOLEON'S army + has just arrived on the scene, and is making its bivouac for the + night, some of the later regiments not having yet come up. A + dropping fire of musketry from skirmishers ahead keeps snapping + through the air. The Emperor's tent stands in a ravine in the + foreground amid the squares of the Old Guard. Aides and other + officers are chatting outside. + + Enter NAPOLEON, who dismounts, speaks to some of his suite, and + disappears inside his tent. An interval follows, during which the + sun dips. + + Enter COLONEL FABVRIER, aide-de-camp of MARMONT, just arrived from + Spain. An officer-in-waiting goes into NAPOLEON'S tent to announce + FABVRIER, the Colonel meanwhile talking to those outside.] + + +AN AIDE + +Important tidings thence, I make no doubt? + + +FABVRIER + +Marmont repulsed on Salamanca field, +And well-nigh slain, is the best tale I bring! + + [A silence. A coughing heard in NAPOLEON'S tent.] + +Whose rheumy throat distracts the quiet so? + + +AIDE + +The Emperor's. He is thus the livelong day. + + [COLONEL FABVRIER is shown into the tent. An interval. Then the + husky accents of NAPOLEON within, growing louder and louder.] + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +If Marmont--so I gather from these lines-- +Had let the English and the Spanish be, +They would have bent from Salamanca back, +Offering no battle, to our profiting! +We should have been delivered this disaster, +Whose bruit will harm us more than aught besides +That has befallen in Spain! + + +VOICE OF FABVRIER + + I fear so, sire. + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +He forced a conflict, to cull laurel crowns +Before King Joseph should arrive to share them! + + +VOICE OF FABVRIER + +The army's ardour for your Majesty, +Its courage, its devotion to your cause, +Cover a myriad of the Marshal's sins. + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON + +Why gave he battle without biddance, pray, +From the supreme commander? Here's the crime +Of insubordination, root of woes! . . . +The time well chosen, and the battle won, +The English succours there had sidled off, +And their annoy in the Peninsula +Embarrassed us no more. Behoves it me, +Some day, to face this Wellington myself! +Marmont too plainly is no match for him. . . . +Thus he goes on: "To have preserved command +I would with joy have changed this early wound +For foulest mortal stroke at fall of day. +One baleful moment damnified the fruit +Of six weeks' wise strategics, whose result +Had loomed so certain!"--(Satirically) Well, we've but his word +As to their wisdom! To define them thus +Would not have struck me but for his good prompting! . . . +No matter: On Moskowa's banks to-morrow +I'll mend his faults upon the Arapeile. +I'll see how I can treat this Russian horde +Which English gold has brought together here +From the four corners of the universe. . . . +Adieu. You'd best go now and take some rest. + + [FABVRIER reappears from the tent and goes. Enter DE BAUSSET.] + + +DE BAUSSET + +The box that came--has it been taken in? + + +AN OFFICER + +Yes, General 'Tis laid behind a screen +In the outer tent. As yet his Majesty +Has not been told of it. + + [DE BAUSSET goes into the tent. After an interval of murmured + talk an exclamation bursts from the EMPEROR. In a few minutes he + appears at the tent door, a valet following him bearing a picture. + The EMPEROR'S face shows traces of emotion.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Bring out a chair for me to poise it on. + + [Re-enter DE BAUSSET from the tent with a chair.] + +They all shall see it. Yes, my soldier-sons +Must gaze upon this son of mine own house +In art's presentment! It will cheer their hearts. +That's a good light--just so. + + [He is assisted by DE BAUSSET to set up the picture in the chair. + It is a portrait of the young King of Rome playing at cup-and-ball + being represented as the globe. The officers standing near are + attracted round, and then the officers and soldiers further back + begin running up, till there is a great crowd.] + + Let them walk past, +So that they see him all. The Old Guard first. + + [The Old Guard is summoned, and marches past surveying the picture; + then other regiments.] + + +SOLDIERS + +The Emperor and the King of Rome for ever! + + [When they have marched past and withdrawn, and DE BAUSSET has + taken away the picture, NAPOLEON prepares to re-enter his tent. + But his attention is attracted to the Russians. He regards them + through his glass. Enter BESSIERES and RAPP.] + + +NAPOLEON + +What slow, weird ambulation do I mark, +Rippling the Russian host? + + +BESSIERES + + A progress, sire, +Of all their clergy, vestmented, who bear +An image, said to work strange miracles. + + [NAPOLEON watches. The Russian ecclesiastics pass through the + regiments, which are under arms, bearing the icon and other + religious insignia. The Russian soldiers kneel before it.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Ay! Not content to stand on their own strength, +They try to hire the enginry of Heaven. +I am no theologian, but I laugh +That men can be so grossly logicless, +When war, defensive or aggressive either, +Is in its essence pagan, and opposed +To the whole gist of Christianity! + + +BESSIERES + +'Tis to fanaticize their courage, sire. + + +NAPOLEON + +Better they'd wake up old Kutuzof.--Rapp, +What think you of to-morrow? + + +RAPP + + Victory; +But, sire, a bloody one! + + +NAPOLEON + + So I foresee. + + [The scene darkens, and the fires of the bivouacs shine up ruddily, + those of the French near at hand, those of the Russians in a long + line across the mid-distance, and throwing a flapping glare into + the heavens. As the night grows stiller the ballad-singing and + laughter from the French mixes with a slow singing of psalms from + their adversaries. + + The two multitudes lie down to sleep, and all is quiet but for + the sputtering of the green wood fires, which, now that the human + tongues are still, seem to hold a conversation of their own.] + + + +SCENE V + +THE SAME + + [The prospect lightens with dawn, and the sun rises red. The + spacious field of battle is now distinct, its ruggedness being + bisected by the great road from Smolensk to Moscow, which runs + centrally from beneath the spectator to the furthest horizon. + The field is also crossed by the stream Kalotcha, flowing from + the right-centre foreground to the left-centre background, thus + forming an "X" with the road aforesaid, intersecting it in mid- + distance at the village of Borodino. + + Behind this village the Russians have taken their stand in close + masses. So stand also the French, who have in their centre the + Shevardino redoubt beyond the Kalotcha. Here NAPOLEON, in his + usual glue-grey uniform, white waistcoat, and white leather + breeches, chooses his position with BERTHIER and other officers + of his suite.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +It is six o'clock, and the firing of a single cannon on the French +side proclaims that the battle is beginning. There is a roll of +drums, and the right-centre masses, glittering in the level shine, +advance under NEY and DAVOUT and throw themselves on the Russians, +here defended by redoubts. + +The French enter the redoubts, whereupon a slim, small man, GENERAL +BAGRATION, brings across a division from the Russian right and expels +them resolutely. + +Semenovskoye is a commanding height opposite the right of the French, +and held by the Russians. Cannon and columns, infantry and cavalry, +assault it by tens of thousands, but cannot take it. + +Aides gallop through the screeching shot and haze of smoke and dust +between NAPOLEON and his various marshals. The Emperor walks about, +looks through his glass, goes to a camp-stool, on which he sits down, +and drinks glasses of spirits and hot water to relieve his still +violent cold, as may be discovered from his red eyes, raw nose, +rheumatic manner when he moves, and thick voice in giving orders. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + So he fulfils the inhuman antickings + He thinks imposed upon him. . . . What says he? + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + He says it is the sun of Austerlitz! + + +The Russians, so far from being driven out of their redoubts, +issue from them towards the French. But they have to retreat, +BAGRATION and his Chief of Staff being wounded. NAPOLEON sips +his grog hopefully, and orders a still stronger attack on the +great redoubt in the centre. + +It is carried out. The redoubt becomes the scene of a huge +massacre. In other parts of the field also the action almost +ceases to be a battle, and takes the form of wholesale butchery +by the thousand, now advantaging one side, now the other. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Thus do the mindless minions of the spell + In mechanized enchantment sway and show + A Will that wills above the will of each, + Yet but the will of all conjunctively; + A fabric of excitement, web of rage, + That permeates as one stuff the weltering whole. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + The ugly horror grossly regnant here + Wakes even the drowsed half-drunken Dictator + To all its vain uncouthness! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Murat cries + That on this much-anticipated day + Napoleon's genius flags inoperative. + + +The firing from the top of the redoubt has ceased. The French have +got inside. The Russians retreat upon their rear, and fortify +themselves on the heights there. PONIATOWSKI furiously attacks them. +But the French are worn out, and fall back to their station before +the battle. So the combat dies resultlessly away. The sun sets, and +the opposed and exhausted hosts sink to lethargic repose. NAPOLEON +enters his tent in the midst of his lieutenants, and night descends. + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + The fumes of nitre and the reek of gore + Make my airs foul and fulsome unto me! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + The natural nausea of a nurse, dear Dame. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Strange: even within that tent no notes of joy + Throb as at Austerlitz! (signifying Napoleon's tent). + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + But mark that roar-- + A mash of men's crazed cries entreating mates + To run them through and end their agony; + Boys calling on their mothers, veterans + Blaspheming God and man. Those shady shapes + Are horses, maimed in myriads, tearing round + In maddening pangs, the harnessings they wear + Clanking discordant jingles as they tear! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + It is enough. Let now the scene be closed. + + +The night thickens. + + + +SCENE VI + +MOSCOW + + [The foreground is an open place amid the ancient irregular streets + of the city, which disclose a jumble of architectural styles, the + Asiatic prevailing over the European. A huge triangular white- + walled fortress rises above the churches and coloured domes on a + hill in the background, the central feature of which is a lofty + tower with a gilded cupola, the Ivan Tower. Beneath the battlements + of this fortress the Moskva River flows. + + An unwonted rumbling of wheels proceeds from the cobble-stoned + streets, accompanied by an incessant cracking of whips.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Travelling carriages, teams, and waggons, laden with pictures, +carpets, glass, silver, china, and fashionable attire, are rolling +out of the city, followed by foot-passengers in streams, who carry +their most precious possessions on their shoulders. Others bear +their sick relatives, caring nothing for their goods, and mothers +go laden with their infants. Others drive their cows, sheep, and +goats, causing much obstruction. Some of the populace, however, +appear apathetic and bewildered, and stand in groups asking questions. + +A thin man with piercing eyes gallops about and gives stern orders. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Whose is the form seen ramping restlessly, + Geared as a general, keen-eyed as a kite, + Mid this mad current of close-filed confusion; + High-ordering, smartening progress in the slow, + And goading those by their own thoughts o'er-goaded; + Whose emissaries knock at every door + In rhythmal rote, and groan the great events + The hour is pregnant with? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Rostopchin he, + The city governor, whose name will ring + Far down the forward years uncannily! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + His arts are strange, and strangely do they move him:-- + To store the stews with stuffs inflammable, + To bid that pumps be wrecked, captives enlarged + And primed with brands for burning, are the intents + His warnings to the citizens outshade! + + +When the bulk of the populace has passed out eastwardly the Russian +army retreating from Borodino also passes through the city into the +country beyond without a halt. They mostly move in solemn silence, +though many soldiers rush from their ranks and load themselves with +spoil. + +When they are got together again and have marched out, there goes by +on his horse a strange scarred old man with a foxy look, a swollen +neck and head and a hunched figure. He is KUTUZOF, surrounded by +his lieutenants. Away in the distance by other streets and bridges +with other divisions pass in like manner GENERALS BENNIGSEN, BARCLAY +DE TOLLY, DOKHTOROF, the mortally wounded BAGRATION in a carriage, and +other generals, all in melancholy procession one way, like autumnal +birds of passage. Then the rear-guard passes under MILORADOVITCH. + +Next comes a procession of another kind. + +A long string of carts with wounded men is seen, which trails out of +the city behind the army. Their clothing is soiled with dried blood, +and the bandages that enwrap them are caked with it. + +The greater part of this migrant multitude takes the high road to +Vladimir. + + + +SCENE VII + +THE SAME. OUTSIDE THE CITY + + [A hill forms the foreground, called the Hill of Salutation, near + the Smolensk road. + + Herefrom the city appears as a splendid panorama, with its river, + its gardens, and its curiously grotesque architecture of domes and + spires. It is the peacock of cities to Western eyes, its roofs + twinkling in the rays of the September sun, amid which the ancient + citadel of the Tsars--the Kremlin--forms a centre-piece. + + There enter on the hill at a gallop NAPOLEON, MURAT, EUGENE, NEY, + DARU, and the rest of the Imperial staff. The French advance- + guard is drawn up in order of battle at the foot of the hill, and + the long columns of the Grand Army stretch far in the rear. The + Emperor and his marshals halt, and gaze at Moscow.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Ha! There she is at last. And it was time. + + [He looks round upon his army, its numbers attenuated to one-fourth + of those who crossed the Niemen so joyfully.] + +Yes: it was time. . . . NOW what says Alexander! + + +DARU + +This is a foil to Salamanca, sire! + + +DAVOUT + +What scores of bulbous church-tops gild the sky! +Souls must be rotten in this region, sire, +To need so much repairing! + + +NAPOLEON + + Ay--no doubt. . . . +Prithee march briskly on, to check disorder, + (to Murat). +Hold word with the authorities forthwith, + (to Durasnel). +Tell them that they may swiftly swage their fears, +Safe in the mercy I by rule extend +To vanquished ones. I wait the city keys, +And will receive the Governor's submission +With courtesy due. Eugene will guard the gate +To Petersburg there leftward. You, Davout, +The gate to Smolensk in the centre here +Which we shall enter by. + + +VOICES OF ADVANCE-GUARD + + Moscow! Moscow! +This, this is Moscow city. Rest at last! + + [The words are caught up in the rear by veterans who have entered + every capital in Europe except London, and are echoed from rank to + rank. There is a far-extended clapping of hands, like the babble + of waves, and companies of foot run in disorder towards high ground + to behold the spectacle, waving their shakos on their bayonets. + + The army now marches on, and NAPOLEON and his suite disappear + citywards from the Hill of Salutation. + + The day wanes ere the host has passed and dusk begins to prevail, + when tidings reach the rear-guard that cause dismay. They have + been sent back lip by lip from the front.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + An anticlimax to Napoleon's dream! + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + They say no governor attends with keys + To offer his submission gracefully. + The streets are solitudes, the houses sealed, + And stagnant silence reigns, save where intrudes + The rumbling of their own artillery wheels, + And their own soldiers' measured tramp along. + "Moscow deserted? What a monstrous thing!"-- + He shrugs his shoulders soon, contemptuously; + "This, then is how Muscovy fights!" cries he. + + Meanwhile Murat has reached the Kremlin gates, + And finds them closed against him. Battered these, + The fort reverberates vacant as the streets + But for some grinning wretches gaoled there. + Enchantment seems to sway from quay to keep, + And lock commotion in a century's sleep. + + [NAPOLEON, reappearing in front of the city, follows MURAT, and is + again lost to view. He has entered the Kremlin. An interval. + Something becomes visible on the summit of the Ivan Tower.] + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + Mark you thereon a small lone figure gazing + Upon his hard-gained goal? It is He! + The startled crows, their broad black pinions raising, + Forsake their haunts, and wheel disquietedly. + + [The scene slowly darkens. Midnight hangs over the city. In + blackness to the north of where the Kremlin stands appears what at + first seems a lurid, malignant star. It waxes larger. Almost + simultaneously a north-east wind rises, and the light glows and + sinks with the gusts, proclaiming a fire, which soon grows large + enough to irradiate the fronts of adjacent buildings, and to show + that it is creeping on towards the Kremlin itself, the walls of + that fortress which face the flames emerging from their previous + shade. + + The fire can be seen breaking out also in numerous other quarters. + All the conflagrations increase, and become, as those at first + detached group themselves together, one huge furnace, whence + streamers of flame reach up to the sky, brighten the landscape + far around, and show the houses as if it were day. The blaze + gains the Kremlin, and licks its walls, but does not kindle it. + Explosions and hissings are constantly audible, amid which can be + fancied cries and yells of people caught in the combustion. Large + pieces of canvas aflare sail away on the gale like balloons. + Cocks crow, thinking it sunrise, ere they are burnt to death.] + + + +SCENE VIII + +THE SAME. THE INTERIOR OF THE KREMLIN + + [A chamber containing a bed on which NAPOLEON has been lying. It + is not yet daybreak, and the flapping light of the conflagration + without shines in at the narrow windows. + + NAPOLEON is discovered dressed, but in disorder and unshaven. He + is walking up and down the room in agitation. There are present + CAULAINCOURT, BESSIERES, and many of the marshals of his guard, + who stand in silent perplexity.] + + +NAPOLEON (sitting down on the bed) + +No: I'll not go! It is themselves who have done it. +My God, they are Scythians and barbarians still! + + [Enter MORTIER (just made Governor).] + + +MORTIER + +Sire, there's no means of fencing with the flames. +My creed is that these scurvy Muscovites +Knowing our men's repute for recklessness, +Have fired the town, as if 'twere we had done it, +As by our own crazed act! + + [GENERAL LARIBOISIERE, and aged man, enters and approaches + NAPOLEON.] + + +LARIBOISIERE + + The wind swells higher! +Will you permit one so high-summed in years, +One so devoted, sire, to speak his mind? +It is that your long lingering here entails +Much risk for you, your army, and ourselves, +In the embarrassment it throws on us +While taking steps to seek security, +By hindering venturous means. + + [Enter MURAT, PRINCE EUGENE, and the PRINCE OF NEUFCHATEL.] + + +MURAT + + There is no choice +But leaving, sire. Enormous bulks of powder +Lie housed beneath us; and outside these panes +A park of our artillery stands unscreened. + + +NAPOLEON (saturninely) + +What have I won I disincline to cede! + + +VOICE OF A GUARD (without) + +The Kremlin is aflame! + + [The look at each other. Two officers of NAPOLEON'S guard and an + interpreter enter, with one of the Russian military police as a + prisoner.] + + +FIRST OFFICER + + We have caught this man +Firing the Kremlin: yea, in the very act! +It is extinguished temporarily, +We know not for how long. + + +NAPOLEON + + Inquire of him +What devil set him on. (They inquire.) + + +SECOND OFFICER + + The governor, +He says; the Count Rostopchin, sire. + + +NAPOLEON + +So! Even the ancient Kremlin is not sanct +From their infernal scheme! Go, take him out; +Make him a quick example to the rest. + + [Exeunt guard with their prisoner to the court below, whence a + musket-volley resounds in a few minutes. Meanwhile the flames + pop and spit more loudly, and the window-panes of the room they + stand in crack and fall in fragments.] + +Incendiarism afoot, and we unware +Of what foul tricks may follow, I will go. +Outwitted here, we'll march on Petersburg, +The Devil if we won't! + + [The marshals murmur and shake their heads.] + + +BESSIERES + + Your pardon, sire, +But we are all convinced that weather, time, +Provisions, roads, equipment, mettle, mood, +Serve not for such a perilous enterprise. + + [NAPOLEON remains in gloomy silence. Enter BERTHIER.] + + +NAPOLEON (apathetically) + +Well, Berthier. More misfortunes? + + +BERTHIER + + News is brought, +Sire, of the Russian army's whereabouts. +That fox Kutuzof, after marching east +As if he were conducting his whole force +To Vladimir, when at the Riazan Road +Down-doubled sharply south, and in a curve +Has wheeled round Moscow, making for Kalouga, +To strike into our base, and cut us off. + + +MURAT + +Another reason against Petersburg! +Come what come may, we must defeat that army, +To keep a sure retreat through Smolensk on +To Lithuania. + + +NAPOLEON (jumping up) + + I must act! We'll leave, +Or we shall let this Moscow be our tomb. +May Heaven curse the author of this war-- +Ay, him, that Russian minister, self-sold +To England, who fomented it.--'Twas he +Dragged Alexander into it, and me! + + [The marshals are silent with looks of incredulity, and Caulaincourt + shrugs his shoulders.] + +Now no more words; but hear. Eugene and Ney +With their divisions fall straight back upon +The Petersburg and Zwenigarod Roads; +Those of Davout upon the Smolensk route. +I will retire meanwhile to Petrowskoi. +Come, let us go. + + [NAPOLEON and the marshals move to the door. In leaving, the + Emperor pauses and looks back.] + + I fear that this event +Marks the beginning of a train of ills. . . . +Moscow was meant to be my rest, +My refuge, and--it vanishes away! + + [Exeunt NAPOLEON, marshals, etc. The smoke grows denser and + obscures the scene.] + + + +SCENE IX + +THE ROAD FROM SMOLENSKO INTO LITHUANIA + + [The season is far advanced towards winter. The point of observation + is high amongst the clouds, which, opening and shutting fitfully to + the wind, reveal the earth as a confused expanse merely.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Where are we? And why are we where we are? + + +SHADE OF THE EARTH + + Above a wild waste garden-plot of mine + Nigh bare in this late age, and now grown chill, + Lithuania called by some. I gather not + Why we haunt here, where I can work no charm + Either upon the ground or over it. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + The wherefore will unfold. The rolling brume + That parts, and joins, and parts again below us + In ragged restlessness, unscreens by fits + The quality of the scene. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I notice now + Primeval woods, pine, birch--the skinny growths + That can sustain life well where earth affords + But sustenance elsewhere yclept starvation. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + And what see you on the far land-verge there, + Labouring from eastward towards our longitude? + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + An object like a dun-piled caterpillar, + Shuffling its length in painful heaves along, + Hitherward. . . . Yea, what is this Thing we see + Which, moving as a single monster might, + Is yet not one but many? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Even the Army + Which once was called the Grand; now in retreat + From Moscow's muteness, urged by That within it; + Together with its train of followers-- + Men, matrons, babes, in brabbling multitudes. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + And why such flight? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Recording Angels, say. + + +RECORDING ANGEL I (in minor plain-song) + + The host has turned from Moscow where it lay, + And Israel-like, moved by some master-sway, + Is made to wander on and waste away! + + +ANGEL II + + By track of Tarutino first it flits; + Thence swerving, strikes at old Jaroslawitz; + The which, accurst by slaughtering swords, it quits. + + +ANGEL I + + Harassed, it treads the trail by which it came, + To Borodino, field of bloodshot fame, + Whence stare unburied horrors beyond name! + + +ANGEL II + + And so and thus it nears Smolensko's walls, + And, stayed its hunger, starts anew its crawls, + Till floats down one white morsel, which appals. + + [What has floated down from the sky upon the Army is a flake of + snow. Then come another and another, till natural features, + hitherto varied with the tints of autumn, are confounded, and all + is phantasmal grey and white. + + The caterpillar shape still creeps laboriously nearer, but instead, + increasing in size by the rules of perspective, it gets more + attenuated, and there are left upon the ground behind it minute + parts of itself, which are speedily flaked over, and remain as + white pimples by the wayside.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + These atoms that drop off are snuffed-out souls + Who are enghosted by the caressing snow. + + [Pines rise mournfully on each side of the nearing object; ravens + in flocks advance with it overhead, waiting to pick out the eyes + of strays who fall. The snowstorm increases, descending in tufts + which can hardly be shaken off. The sky seems to join itself to + the land. The marching figures drop rapidly, and almost immediately + become white grave-mounds. + + Endowed with enlarged powers of audition as of vision, we are struck + by the mournful taciturnity that prevails. Nature is mute. Save + for the incessant flogging of the wind-broken and lacerated horses + there are no sounds. + + With growing nearness more is revealed. In the glades of the forest, + parallel to the French columns, columns of Russians are seen to be + moving. And when the French presently reach Krasnoye they are + surrounded by packs of cloaked Cossacks, bearing lances like huge + needles a dozen feet long. The fore-part of the French army gets + through the town; the rear is assaulted by infantry and artillery.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + The strange, one-eyed, white-shakoed, scarred old man, + Ruthlessly heading every onset made, + I seem to recognize. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Kutuzof he: + The ceaselessly-attacked one, Michael Ney; + A pair as stout as thou, Earth, ever hast twinned! + Kutuzof, ten years younger, would extirp + The invaders, and our drama finish here, + With Bonaparte a captive or a corpse. + But he is old; death even has beckoned him; + And thus the so near-seeming happens not. + + [NAPOLEON himself can be discerned amid the rest, marching on foot + through the snowflakes, in a fur coat and with a stout staff in his + hand. Further back NEY is visible with the remains of the rear. + + There is something behind the regular columns like an articulated + tail, and as they draw on, it shows itself to be a disorderly rabble + of followers of both sexes. So the whole miscellany arrives at the + foreground, where it is checked by a large river across the track. + The soldiers themselves, like the rabble, are in motley raiment, + some wearing rugs for warmth, some quilts and curtains, some even + petticoats and other women's clothing. Many are delirious from + hunger and cold. + + But they set about doing what is a necessity for the least hope of + salvation, and throw a bridge across the stream. + + The point of vision descends to earth, close to the scene of action.] + + + +SCENE X + +THE BRIDGE OF THE BERESINA + + [The bridge is over the Beresina at Studzianka. On each side of + the river are swampy meadows, now hard with frost, while further + back are dense forests. Ice floats down the deep black stream in + large cakes.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +The French sappers are working up to their shoulders in the water at +the building of the bridge. Those so immersed work till, stiffened +with ice to immobility, they die from the chill, when others succeed +them. + +Cavalry meanwhile attempt to swim their horses across, and some +infantry try to wade through the stream. + +Another bridge is begun hard by, the construction of which advances +with greater speed; and it becomes fit for the passage of carriages +and artillery. + +NAPOLEON is seen to come across to the homeward bank, which is the +foreground of the scene. A good portion of the army also, under +DAVOUT, NEY, and OUDINOT, lands by degrees on this side. But +VICTOR'S corps is yet on the left or Moscow side of the stream, +moving toward the bridge, and PARTONNEAUX with the rear-guard, who +has not yet crossed, is at Borissow, some way below, where there is +an old permanent bridge partly broken. + +Enter with speed from the distance the Russians under TCHAPLITZ. +More under TCHICHAGOFF enter the scene down the river on the left +or further bank, and cross by the old bridge of Borissow. But they +are too far from the new crossing to intercept the French as yet. + +PLATOFF with his Cossacks next appears on the stage which is to be +such a tragic one. He comes from the forest and approaches the left +bank likewise. So also does WITTGENSTEIN, who strikes in between +the uncrossed VICTOR and PARTONNEAUX. PLATOFF thereupon descends +on the latter, who surrenders with the rear-guard; and thus seven +thousand more are cut off from the already emaciated Grand Army. + +TCHAPLITZ, of TCHICHAGOFF'S division, has meanwhile got round by the +old bridge at Borissow to the French side of the new one, and attacks +OUDINOT; but he is repulsed with the strength of despair. The French +lose a further five thousand in this. + +We now look across the river at VICTOR, and his division, not yet +over, and still defending the new bridges. WITTGENSTEIN descends +upon him; but he holds his ground. + +The determined Russians set up a battery of twelve cannon, so as to +command the two new bridges, with the confused crowd of soldiers, +carriages, and baggage, pressing to cross. The battery discharges +into the surging multitude. More Russians come up, and, forming a +semicircle round the bridges and the mass of French, fire yet more +hotly on them with round shot and canister. As it gets dark the +flashes light up the strained faces of the fugitives. Under the +discharge and the weight of traffic, the bridge for the artillery +gives way, and the throngs upon it roll shrieking into the stream +and are drowned. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + +So loudly swell their shrieks as to be heard above the roar of guns + and the wailful wind, +Giving in one brief cry their last wild word on that mock life + through which they have harlequined! + + +SEMICHORUS II + +To the other bridge the living heap betakes itself, the weak pushed + over by the strong; +They loop together by their clutch like snakes; in knots they + are submerged and borne along. + + +CHORUS + +Then women are seen in the waterflow--limply bearing their + infants between wizened white arms stretching above; +Yea, motherhood, sheerly sublime in her last despairing, and + lighting her darkest declension with limitless love. + + +Meanwhile, TCHICHAGOFF has come up with his twenty-seven thousand men, +and falls on OUDINOT, NEY, and the "Sacred Squadron." Altogether we +see forty or fifty thousand assailing eighteen thousand half-naked, +badly armed wretches, emaciated with hunger and encumbered with +several thousands of sick, wounded, and stragglers. + +VICTOR and his rear-guard, who have protected the bridges all day, +come over themselves at last. No sooner have they done so than the +final bridge is set on fire. Those who are upon it burn or drown; +those who are on the further side have lost their last chance, and +perish either in attempting to wade the stream or at the hands of +the Russians. + + +SEMICHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + What will be seen in the morning light? + What will be learnt when the spring breaks bright, + And the frost unlocks to the sun's soft sight? + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Death in a thousand motley forms; + Charred corpses hooking each other's arms + In the sleep that defies all war's alarms! + + +CHORUS + + Pale cysts of souls in every stage, + Still bent to embraces of love or rage,-- + Souls passed to where History pens no page. + + +The flames of the burning bridge go out as it consumes to the water's +edge, and darkness mantles all, nothing continuing but the purl of +the river and the clickings of floating ice. + + + +SCENE XI + +THE OPEN COUNTRY BETWEEN SMORGONI AND WILNA + + [The winter is more merciless, and snow continues to fall upon a + deserted expanse of unenclosed land in Lithuania. Some scattered + birch bushes merge in a forest in the background. + + It is growing dark, though nothing distinguishes where the sun + sets. There is no sound except that of a shuffling of feet in + the direction of a bivouac. Here are gathered tattered men like + skeletons. Their noses and ears are frost-bitten, and pus is + oozing from their eyes. + + These stricken shades in a limbo of gloom are among the last + survivors of the French army. Few of them carry arms. One squad, + ploughing through snow above their knees, and with icicles dangling + from their hair that clink like glass-lustres as they walk, go + into the birch wood, and are heard chopping. They bring back + boughs, with which they make a screen on the windward side, and + contrive to light a fire. With their swords they cut rashers from + a dead horse, and grill them in the flames, using gunpowder for + salt to eat them with. Two others return from a search, with a + dead rat and some candle-ends. Their meal shared, some try to + repair their gaping shoes and to tie up their feet, that are + chilblained to the bone. + + A straggler enters, who whispers to one or two soldiers of the + group. A shudder runs through them at his words.] + + +FIRST SOLDIER (dazed) + +What--gone, do you say? Gone? + + +STRAGGLER + + Yes, I say gone! +He left us at Smorgoni hours ago. +The Sacred Squadron even he has left behind. +By this time he's at Warsaw or beyond, +Full pace for Paris. + + +SECOND SOLDIER (jumping up wildly) + + Gone? How did he go? +No, surely! He could not desert us so! + + +STRAGGLER + +He started in a carriage, with Roustan +The Mameluke on the box: Caulaincourt, too, +Was inside with him. Monton and Duroc +Rode on a sledge behind.--The order bade +That we should not be told it for a while. + + [Other soldiers spring up as they realize the news, and stamp + hither and thither, impotent with rage, grief, and despair, many + in their physical weakness sobbing like children.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + +Good. It is the selfish and unconscionable characters who are so much +regretted. + + +STRAGGLER + +He felt, or feigned, he ought to leave no longer +A land like Prussia 'twixt himself and home. +There was great need for him to go, he said, +To quiet France, and raise another army +That shall replace our bones. + + +SEVERAL (distractedly) + + Deserted us! +Deserted us!--O, after all our pangs +We shall see France no more! + + [Some become insane, and go dancing round. One of them sings.] + + +MAD SOLDIER'S SONG + +I + Ha, for the snow and hoar! + Ho, for our fortune's made! + We can shape our bed without sheets to spread, + And our graves without a spade. + So foolish Life adieu, + And ingrate Leader too. + --Ah, but we loved you true! + Yet--he-he-he! and ho-ho-ho-!-- + We'll never return to you. + +II + + What can we wish for more? + Thanks to the frost and flood + We are grinning crones--thin bags of bones + Who once were flesh and blood. + So foolish Life adieu, + And ingrate Leader too. + --Ah, but we loved you true! + Yet--he-he-he! and ho-ho-ho!-- + We'll never return to you. + + [Exhausted, they again crouch round the fire. Officers and + privates press together for warmth. Other stragglers arrive, and + sit at the backs of the first. With the progress of the night the + stars come out in unusual brilliancy, Sirius and those in Orion + flashing like stilettos; and the frost stiffens. + + The fire sinks and goes out; but the Frenchmen do not move. The + day dawns, and still they sit on. + + In the background enter some light horse of the Russian army, + followed by KUTUZOF himself and a few of his staff. He presents + a terrible appearance now--bravely serving though slowly dying, + his face puffed with the intense cold, his one eye staring out as + he sits in a heap in the saddle, his head sunk into his shoulders. + The whole detachment pauses at the sight of the French asleep. + They shout; but the bivouackers give no sign. + + +KUTUZOF + +Go, stir them up! We slay not sleeping men. + + [The Russians advance and prod the French with their lances.] + + +RUSSIAN OFFICER + +Prince, here's a curious picture. They are dead. + + +KUTUZOF (with indifference) + +Oh, naturally. After the snow was down +I marked a sharpening of the air last night. +We shall be stumbling on such frost-baked meat +Most of the way to Wilna. + + +OFFICER (examining the bodies) + + They all sit +As they were living still, but stiff as horns; +And even the colour has not left their cheeks, +Whereon the tears remain in strings of ice.-- +It was a marvel they were not consumed: +Their clothes are cindered by the fire in front, +While at their back the frost has caked them hard. + + +KUTUZOF + +'Tis well. So perish Russia's enemies! + + [Exeunt KUTUZOF, his staff, and the detachment of horse in the + direction of Wilna; and with the advance of day the snow resumes + its fall, slowly burying the dead bivouackers.] + + + +SCENE XII + +PARIS. THE TUILERIES + + [An antechamber to the EMPRESS MARIE LOUISE'S bedroom, at half-past + eleven on a December night. The DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO and another + lady-in-waiting are discovered talking to the Empress.] + + +MARIE LOUISE + +I have felt unapt for anything to-night, +And I will now retire. + + [She goes into her child's room adjoining.] + + +DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO + + For some long while +There has come no letter from the Emperor, +And Paris brims with ghastly rumourings +About the far campaign. Not being beloved, +The town is over dull for her alone. + + [Re-enter MARIE LOUISE.] + + +MARIE LOUISE + +The King of Rome is sleeping in his cot +Sweetly and safe. Now, ladies, I am going. + + [She withdraws. Her tiring-women pass through into her chamber. + They presently return and go out. A manservant enters, and bars + the window-shutters with numerous bolts. Exit manservant. The + Duchess retires. The other lady-in-waiting rises to go into her + bedroom, which adjoins that of the Empress. + + Men's voices are suddenly heard in the corridor without. The lady- + in-waiting pauses with parted lips. The voices grow louder. The + lady-in-waiting screams. + + MARIE LOUISE hastily re-enters in a dressing-gown thrown over her + night-clothes.] + + +MARIE LOUISE + +Great God, what altercation can that be? +I had just verged on sleep when it aroused me! + + [A thumping is heard at the door.] + + +VOICE OF NAPOLEON (without) + +Hola! Pray let me in! Unlock the door! + + +LADY-IN-WAITING + +Heaven's mercy on us! What man may it be +At such and hour as this? + + +MARIE LOUISE + + O it is he! + + + [The lady-in-waiting unlocks the door. NAPOLEON enters, scarcely + recognizable, in a fur cloak and hood over his ears. He throws + off the cloak and discloses himself to be in the shabbiest and + muddiest attire. Marie Louise is agitated almost to fainting.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Is it with fright or joy? + + +MARIE LOUISE + + I scarce believe +What my sight tells me! Home, and in such garb! + + [NAPOLEON embraces her.] + + +NAPOLEON + +I have had great work in getting in, my dear! +They failed to recognize me at the gates, +Being sceptical at my poor hackney-coach +And poorer baggage. I had to show my face +In a fierce light ere they would let me pass, +And even then they doubted till I spoke.-- +What think you, dear, of such a tramp-like spouse? + (He warms his hands at the fire.) +Ha--it is much more comfortable here +Than on the Russian plains! + + +MARIE LOUISE (timidly) + + You have suffered there?-- +Your face is thinner, and has line in it; +No marvel that they did not know you! + + +NAPOLEON + + Yes: +Disasters many and swift have swooped on me!-- +Since crossing--ugh!--the Beresina River +I have been compelled to come incognito; +Ay--as a fugitive and outlaw quite. + + +MARIE LOUISE + +We'll thank Heaven, anyhow, that you are safe. +I had gone to bed, and everybody almost! +what, now, do require? Some food of course? + + [The child in the adjoining chamber begins to cry, awakened by the + loud tones of NAPOLEON.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Ah--that's his little voice! I'll in and see him. + + +MARIE LOUISE + +I'll come with you. + + [NAPOLEON and the EMPRESS pass into the other room. The lady-in- + waiting calls up yawning servants and gives orders. The servants + go to execute them. Re-enter NAPOLEON and MARIE LOUISE. The lady- + in-waiting goes out.] + + +NAPOLEON + + I have said it, dear! +All the disasters summed in the bulletin +Shall be repaired. + + +MARIE LOUISE + + And are they terrible? + + +NAPOLEON + +Have you not read the last-sent bulletin, +Dear friend? + + +MARIE LOUISE + + No recent bulletin has come. + + +NAPOLEON + +Ah--I must have outstripped it on the way! + + +MARIE LOUISE + +And where is the Grand Army? + + +NAPOLEON + + Oh--that's gone. + + +MARIE LOUISE + +Gone? But--gone where? + + +NAPOLEON + + Gone all to nothing, dear. + + +MARIE LOUISE (incredulously) + +But some six hundred thousand I saw pass +Through Dresden Russia-wards? + + +NAPOLEON (flinging himself into a chair) + + Well, those men lie-- +Or most of them--in layers of bleaching bones +'Twixt here and Moscow. . . . I have been subdued; +But by the elements; and them alone. +Not Russia, but God's sky has conquered me! + (With an appalled look she sits beside him.) +From the sublime to the ridiculous +There's but a step!--I have been saying it +All through the leagues of my long journey home-- +And that step has been passed in this affair! . . . +Yes, briefly, it is quite ridiculous, +Whichever way you look at it.--Ha, ha! + + +MARIE LOUISE (simply) + +But those six hundred thousand throbbing throats +That cheered me deaf at Dresden, marching east +So full of youth and spirits--all bleached bones-- +Ridiculous? Can it be so, dear, to-- +Their mothers say? + + +NAPOLEON (with a twitch of displeasure) + + You scarcely understand. +I meant the enterprise, and not its stuff. . . . +I had no wish to fight, nor Alexander, +But circumstance impaled us each on each; +The Genius who outshapes my destinies +Did all the rest! Had I but hit success, +Imperial splendour would have worn a crown +Unmatched in long-scrolled Time! . . . Well, leave that now.-- +What do they know about all this in Paris? + + +MARIE LOUSE + +I cannot say. Black rumours fly and croak +Like ravens through the streets, but come to me +Thinned to the vague!--Occurrences in Spain +Breed much disquiet with these other things. +Marmont's defeat at Salamanca field +Ploughed deep into men's brows. The cafes say +Your troops must clear from Spain. + + +NAPOLEON + + We'll see to that! +I'll find a way to do a better thing; +Though I must have another army first-- +Three hundred thousand quite. Fishes as good +Swim in the sea as have come out of it. +But to begin, we must make sure of France, +Disclose ourselves to the good folk of Paris +In daily outing as a family group, +The type and model of domestic bliss +(Which, by the way, we are). And I intend, +Also, to gild the dome of the Invalides +In best gold leaf, and on a novel pattern. + + +MARIE LOUISE + +To gild the dome, dear? Why? + + +NAPOLEON + + To give them something +To think about. They'll take to it like children, +And argue in the cafes right and left +On its artistic points.--So they'll forget +The woes of Moscow. + + [A chamberlain-in-waiting announces supper. MARIE LOUISE and + NAPOLEON go out. The room darkens and the scene closes.] + + + + +ACT SECOND + + +SCENE I + +THE PLAIN OF VITORIA + + [It is the eve of the longest day of the year; also the eve of the + battle of Vitoria. The English army in the Peninsula, and their + Spanish and Portuguese allies, are bivouacking on the western side + of the Plain, about six miles from the town. + + On some high ground in the left mid-distance may be discerned the + MARQUIS OF WELLINGTON'S tent, with GENERALS HILL, PICTON, PONSONBY, + GRAHAM, and others of his staff, going in and out in consultation + on the momentous event impending. Near the foreground are some + hussars sitting round a fire, the evening being damp; their horses + are picketed behind. In the immediate front of the scene are some + troop-officers talking.] + + +FIRST OFFICER + +This grateful rest of four-and-twenty hours +Is priceless for our jaded soldiery; +And we have reconnoitred largely, too; +So the slow day will not have slipped in vain. + + +SECOND OFFICER (looking towards the headquarter tent) + +By this time they must nearly have dotted down +The methods of our master-stroke to-morrow: +I have no clear conception of its plan, +Even in its leading lines. What is decided? + + +FIRST OFFICER + +There are outshaping three supreme attacks, +As I decipher. Graham's on the left, +To compass which he crosses the Zadorra, +And turns the enemy's right. On our right, Hill +Will start at once to storm the Puebla crests. +The Chief himself, with us here in the centre, +Will lead on by the bridges Tres-Puentes +Over the ridge there, and the Mendoza bridge +A little further up.--That's roughly it; +But much and wide discretionary power +Is left the generals all. + + [The officers walk away, and the stillness increases, so the + conversation at the hussars' bivouac, a few yards further back, + becomes noticeable.] + + +SERGEANT YOUNG(19) + +I wonder, I wonder how Stourcastle is looking this summer night, and +all the old folks there! + + +SECOND HUSSAR + +You was born there, I think I've heard ye say, Sergeant? + + +SERGEANT YOUNG + +I was. And though I ought not to say it, as father and mother are +living there still, 'tis a dull place at times. Now Budmouth-Regis +was exactly to my taste when we were there with the Court that +summer, and the King and Queen a-wambling about among us like the +most everyday old man and woman you ever see. Yes, there was plenty +going on, and only a pretty step from home. Altogether we had a +fine time! + + +THIRD HUSSAR + +You walked with a girl there for some weeks, Sergeant, if my memory +serves? + + +SERGEANT YOUNG + +I did. And a pretty girl 'a was. But nothing came on't. A month +afore we struck camp she married a tallow-chandler's dipper of Little +Nicholas Lane. I was a good deal upset about it at the time. But +one gets over things! + + +SECOND HUSSAR + +'Twas a low taste in the hussy, come to that.--Howsomever, I agree +about Budmouth. I never had pleasanter times than when we lay there. +You had a song on it, Sergeant, in them days, if I don't mistake? + + +SERGEANT YOUNG + +I had; and have still. 'Twas made up when we left by our bandmaster +that used to conduct in front of Gloucester Lodge at the King's Mess +every afternoon. + + [The Sergeant is silent for a minute, then suddenly bursts into + melody.] + + +SONG "BUDMOUTH DEARS" + +I + + When we lay where Budmouth Beach is, + O, the girls were fresh as peaches, + With their tall and tossing figures and their eyes of blue + and brown! + And our hearts would ache with longing + As we paced from our sing-songing, + With a smart CLINK! CLINK! up the Esplanade and down + + +II + + They distracted and delayed us + By the pleasant pranks they played us, + And what marvel, then, if troopers, even of regiments of renown, + On whom flashed those eyes divine, O, + Should forget the countersign, O, + As we tore CLINK! CLINK! back to camp above the town. + + +III + + Do they miss us much, I wonder, + Now that war has swept us sunder, + And we roam from where the faces smile to where the faces frown? + And no more behold the features + Of the fair fantastic creatures, + And no more CLINK! CLINK! past the parlours of the town? + + +IV + + Shall we once again there meet them? + Falter fond attempts to greet them? + Will the gay sling-jacket(20) glow again beside the muslin gown?-- + Will they archly quiz and con us + With a sideways glance upon us, + While our spurs CLINK! CLINK! up the Esplanade and down? + + [Applause from the other hussars. More songs are sung, the night + gets darker, the fires go out, and the camp sleeps.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE SAME, FROM THE PUEBLA HEIGHTS + + [It is now day; but a summer fog pervades the prospect. Behind + the fog is heard the roll of bass and tenor drums and the clash + of cymbals, with notes of the popular march "The Downfall of Paris." + + By degrees the fog lifts, and the Plain is disclosed. From this + elevation, gazing north, the expanse looks like the palm of a + monstrous right hand, a little hollowed, some half-dozen miles + across, wherein the ball of the thumb is roughly represented by + heights to the east, on which the French centre has gathered; the + "Mount of Mars" and the "Moon" (the opposite side of the palm) by + the position of the English on the left or west of the plain; + and the "Line of Life" by the Zadorra, an unfordable river running + from the town down the plain, and dropping out of it through a + pass in the Puebla Heights to the south, just beneath our point + of observation--that is to say, toward the wrist of the supposed + hand. The left of the English army under GRAHAM would occupy the + "mounts" at the base of the fingers; while the bent finger-tips + might represent the Cantabrian Hills beyond the plain to the north + or back of the scene. + + From the aforesaid stony crests of Puebla the white town and + church towers of Vitoria can be descried on a slope to the right- + rear of the field of battle. A warm rain succeeds the fog for a + short while, bringing up the fragrant scents from fields, vineyards, + and gardens, now in the full leafage of June.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +All the English forces converge forward--that is, eastwardly--the +centre over the ridges, the right through the Pass to the south, the +left down the Bilbao road on the north-west, the bands of the divers +regiments striking up the same quick march, "The Downfall of Paris." + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + You see the scene. And yet you see it not. + What do you notice now? + + +There immediately is shown visually the electric state of mind that +animates WELLINGTON, GRAHAM, HILL, KEMPT, PICTON, COLVILLE, and other +responsible ones on the British side; and on the French KING JOSEPH +stationary on the hill overlooking his own centre, and surrounded by +a numerous staff that includes his adviser MARSHAL JOURDAN, with, +far away in the field, GAZAN, D'ERLON, REILLE, and other marshals. +This vision, resembling as a whole the interior of a beating brain +lit by phosphorescence, in an instant fades back to normal. + + +Anon we see the English hussars with their flying pelisses galloping +across the Zadorra on one of the Tres-Puentes in the midst of the +field, as had been planned, the English lines in the foreground under +HILL pushing the enemy up the slopes; and far in the distance, to the +left of Vitoria, whiffs of grey smoke followed by low rumbles show +that the left of the English army under GRAHAM is pushing on there. + +Bridge after bridge of the half-dozen over the Zadorra is crossed by +the British; and WELLINGTON, in the centre with PICTON, seeing the +hill and village of Arinez in front of him (eastward) to be weakly +held, carries the regiments of the seventh and third divisions in a +quick run towards it. Supported by the hussars, they ultimately +fight their way to the top, in a chaos of smoke, flame, and booming +echoes, loud-voiced PICTON, in an old blue coat and round hat, +swearing as he goes. + +Meanwhile the French who are opposed to the English right, in the +foreground, have been turned by HILL; the heights are all abandoned, +and the columns fall back in a confused throng by the road to +Vitoria, hard pressed by the British, who capture abandoned guns +amid indescribable tumult, till the French make a stand in front +of the town. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + What's toward in the distance?--say! + + +SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + Fitfully flash strange sights there; yea, + Unwonted spectacles of sweat and scare + Behind the French, that make a stand + With eighty cannon, match in hand.-- + Upon the highway from the town to rear + An eddy of distraction reigns, + Where lumbering treasure, baggage-trains, + Padding pedestrians, haze the atmosphere. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Men, women, and their children fly, + And when the English over-high + Direct their death-bolts, on this billowy throng + Alight the too far-ranging balls, + Wringing out piteous shrieks and calls + From the pale mob, in monotones loud and long. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + To leftward of the distant din + Reille meantime has been driven in + By Graham's measure overmastering might.-- + Henceforward, masses of the foe + Withdraw, and, firing as they go, + Pass rightwise from the cockpit out of sight. + + +CHORUS + + The sunset slants an ochreous shine + Upon the English knapsacked line, + Whose glistering bayonets incline + As bends the hot pursuit across the plain; + And tardily behind them goes + Too many a mournful load of those + Found wound-weak; while with stealthy crawl, + As silence wraps the rear of all, + Cloaked creatures of the starlight strip the slain. + + + +SCENE III + +THE SAME. THE ROAD FROM THE TOWN + + [With the going down of the sun the English army finds itself in + complete possession of the mass of waggons and carriages distantly + beheld from the rear--laden with pictures, treasure, flour, + vegetables, furniture, finery, parrots, monkeys, and women--most + of the male sojourners in the town having taken to their heels + and disappeared across the fields. + + The road is choked with these vehicles, the women they carry + including wives, mistresses, actresses, dancers, nuns, and + prostitutes, which struggle through droves of oxen, sheep, goats, + horses, asses, and mules-- a Noah's-ark of living creatures in + one vast procession. + + There enters rapidly in front of this throng a carriage containing + KING JOSEPH BONAPARTE and an attendant, followed by another vehicle + with luggage.] + + +JOSEPH (inside carriage) + +The bare unblinking truth hereon is this: +The Englishry are a pursuing army, +And we a flying brothel! See our men-- +They leave their guns to save their mistresses! + + [The carriage is fired upon from outside the scene. The KING leaps + from the vehicle and mounts a horse. + + Enter at full gallop from the left CAPTAIN WYNDHAM and a detachment + of the Tenth Hussars in chase of the King's carriage; and from the + right a troop of French dragoons, who engage with the hussars and + hinder pursuit. Exit KING JOSEPH on horseback; afterwards the + hussars and dragoons go out fighting. + + The British infantry enter irregularly, led by a sergeant of the + Eighty-seventh, mockingly carrying MARSHAL JOURDAN'S baton. The + crowd recedes. The soldiers ransack the King's carriages, cut + from their frames canvases by Murillo, Velasquez, and Zurbaran, + and use them as package-wrappers, throwing the papers and archives + into the road. + + They next go to a waggon in the background, which contains a large + chest. Some of the soldiers burst it with a crash. It is full of + money, which rolls into the road. The soldiers begin scrambling, + but are restored to order; and they march on. + + Enter more companies of infantry, out of control of their officers, + who are running behind. They see the dollars, and take up the + scramble for them; next ransacking other waggons and abstracting + therefrom uniforms, ladies raiment, jewels, plate, wines, and + spirits. + + Some array them in the finery, and one soldier puts on a diamond + necklace; others load themselves with the money still lying about + the road. It begins to rain, and a private who has lost his kit + cuts a hole in the middle of a deframed old master, and, putting + it over his head, wears it as a poncho. + + Enter WELLINGTON and others, grimy and perspiring.] + + +FIRST OFFICER + +The men are plundering in all directions! + + +WELLINGTON + +Let 'em. They've striven long and gallantly. +--What documents do I see lying there? + + +SECOND OFFICER (examining) + +The archives of King Joseph's court, my lord; +His correspondence, too, with Bonaparte. + + +WELLINGTON + +We must examine it. It may have use. + + [Another company of soldiers enters, dragging some equipages that + have lost their horses by the traces being cut. The carriages + contain ladies, who shriek and weep at finding themselves captives.] + +What women bring they there? + + +THIRD OFFICER + + Mixed sorts, my lord. +The wives of many young French officers, +The mistresses of more--in male attire. +Yon elegant hussar is one, to wit; +She so disguised is of a Spanish house,-- +One of the general's loves. + + +WELLINGTON + + Well, pack them off +To-morrow to Pamplona, as you can; +We've neither list nor leisure for their charms. +By God, I never saw so many wh---s +In all my life before! + + [Exeunt WELLINGTON, officers, and infantry. A soldier enters with + his arm round a lady in rich costume.] + + +SOLDIER + +We must be married, my dear. + + +LADY (not knowing his language) + +Anything, sir, if you'll spare my life! + + +SOLDIER + +There's neither parson nor clerk here. But that don't matter--hey? + + +LADY + +Anything, sir, if you'll spare my life! + + +SOLDIER + +And if we've got to unmarry at cockcrow, why, so be it--hey? + + +LADY + +Anything, sir, if you'll spare my life! + + +SOLDIER + +A sensible 'ooman, whatever it is she says; that I can see by her +pretty face. Come along then, my dear. There'll be no bones broke, +and we'll take our lot with Christian resignation. + + [Exeunt soldier and lady. The crowd thins away as darkness closes + in, and the growling of artillery ceases, though the wheels of the + flying enemy are still heard in the distance. The fires kindled + by the soldiers as they make their bivouacs blaze up in the gloom, + and throw their glares a long way, revealing on the slopes of the + hills many suffering ones who have not yet been carried in. + The last victorious regiment comes up from the rear, fifing and + drumming ere it reaches its resting-place the last bars of "The + Downfall of Paris":-- + +Transcriber's Note: There follows in musical notation four bars + from that song in 2/4 time, key of C-- + + \\E EF G F\E EF G F\E EC D DB\C \\ + + + +SCENE IV + +A FETE AT VAUXHALL + + [It is the Vitoria festival at Vauxhall. The orchestra of the + renowned gardens exhibits a blaze of lamps and candles arranged + in the shape of a temple, a great artificial sun glowing at the + top, and under it in illuminated characters the words "Vitoria" + and "Wellington." The band is playing the new air "The Plains + of Vitoria." + + All round the colonnade of the rotunda are to be read in the + illumination the names of Peninsular victories, underneath them + figuring the names of British and Spanish generals who led at + those battles, surmounted by wreaths of laurel The avenues + stretching away from the rotunda into the gardens charm the eyes + with their mild multitudinous lights, while festoons of lamps + hang from the trees elsewhere, and transparencies representing + scenes from the war. + + The gardens and saloons are crowded, among those present being the + KING'S sons--the DUKES OF YORK, CLARENCE, KENT, and CAMBRIDGE-- + Ambassadors, peers, and peeresses, and other persons of quality, + English and foreign. + + In the immediate foreground on the left hand is an alcove, the + interior of which is in comparative obscurity. Two foreign + attaches enter it and sit down.] + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +Ah--now for the fireworks. They are under the direction of Colonel +Congreve. + + [At the end of an alley, purposely kept dark, fireworks are + discharged.] + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +Very good: very good.--This looks like the Duke of Sussex coming in, +I think. Who the lady is with him I don't know. + + [Enter the DUKE OF SUSSEX in a Highland dress, attended by several + officers in like attire. He walks about the gardens with LADY + CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL.] + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +People have been paying a mighty price for tickets--as much as +fifteen guineas has been offered, I hear. I had to walk up to the +gates; the number of coaches struggling outside prevented my driving +near. It was as bad as the battle of Vitoria itself. + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +So Wellington is made Field-Marshal for his achievement. + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +Yes. By the by, you have heard of the effect of the battle upon +the Conference at Reichenbach?--that Austria is to join Russia and +Prussia against France? So much for Napoleon's marriage! I wonder +what he thinks of his respected father-in-law now. + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +Of course, an enormous subsidy is paid to Francis by Great Britain +for this face-about? + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +Yes. As Bonaparte says, English guineas are at the bottom of +everything!--Ah, here comes Caroline. + + [The PRINCESS OF WALES arrives, attended by LADY ANNE HAMILTON + and LADY GLENBERVIE. She is conducted forward by the DUKE OF + GLOUCESTER and COLONEL ST. LEDGER, and wears a white satin train + with a dark embroidered bodice, and a green wreath with diamonds. + + Repeated hurrahs greet her from the crowd. She bows courteously.] + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +The people are staunch for her still! . . . You heard, sir, what +Austrian Francis said when he learnt of Vitoria?--"A warm climate +seems to agree with my son-in-law no better than a cold one." + + +FIRST ATTACHE + + Ha-ha-ha! +Marvellous it is how this loud victory +Has couched the late blind Europe's Cabinets. +Would I could spell precisely what was phrased +'Twixt Bonaparte and Metternich at Dresden-- +Their final word, I ween, till God knows when!-- + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +I own to feeling it a sorry thing +That Francis should take English money down +To throw off Bonaparte. 'Tis sordid, mean! +He is his daughter's husband after all. + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +Ay; yes! . . . They say she knows not of it yet. + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +Poor thing, I daresay it will harry her +When all's revealed. But the inside o't is, +Since Castlereagh's return to power last year +Vienna, like Berlin and Petersburg, +Has harboured England's secret emissaries, +Primed, purse in hand, with the most lavish sums +To knit the league to drag Napoleon down. . . . +(More fireworks.) That's grand.--Here comes one Royal item more. + + [The DUCHESS OF YORK enters, attended by her ladies and by the + HON. B. CRAVEN and COLONEL BARCLAY. She is received with signals + of respect.] + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +She calls not favour forth as Caroline can! + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +To end my words:--Though happy for this realm, +Austria's desertion frankly is, by God, +Rank treachery! + + +FIRST ATTACHE + + Whatever it is, it means +Two hundred thousand swords for the Allies, +And enemies in batches for Napoleon +Leaping from unknown lairs.--Yes, something tells me +That this is the beginning of the end +For Emperor Bonaparte! + + [The PRINCESS OF WALES prepares to leave. An English diplomatist + joins the attaches in the alcove. The PRINCESS and her ladies go + out.] + + +DIPLOMATIST + +I saw you over here, and I came round. Cursed hot and crowded, isn't +it? + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +What is the Princess leaving so soon for? + + +DIPLOMATIST + +Oh, she has not been received in the Royal box by the other members +of the Royal Family, and it has offended her, though she was told +beforehand that she could not be. Poor devil! Nobody invited her +here. She came unasked, and she has gone unserved. + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +We shall have to go unserved likewise, I fancy. The scramble at the +buffets is terrible. + + +DIPLOMATIST + +And the road from here to Marsh Gate is impassable. Some ladies have +been sitting in their coaches for hours outside the hedge there. We +shall not get home till noon to-morrow. + + +A VOICE (from the back) + +Take care of your watches! Pickpockets! + + +FIRST ATTACHE + +Good. That relieves the monotony a little. + + [Excitement in the throng. When it has subsided the band strikes + up a country dance, and stewards with white ribbons and laurel + leaves are seen bustling about.] + + +SECOND ATTACHE + +Let us go and look at the dancing. It is "Voulez-vous danser"--no, +it is not,--it is "Enrico"--two ladies between two gentlemen. + + [They go from the alcove.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + From this phantasmagoria let us roam + To the chief wheel and capstan of the show, + Distant afar. I pray you closely read + What I reveal--wherein each feature bulks + In measure with its value humanly. + + [The beholder finds himself, as it were, caught up on high, and + while the Vauxhall scene still dimly twinkles below, he gazes + southward towards Central Europe--the contorted and attenuated + ecorche of the Continent appearing as in an earlier scene, but + now obscure under the summer stars.] + + Three cities loom out large: Vienna there, + Dresden, which holds Napoleon, over here, + And Leipzig, whither we shall shortly wing, + Out yonderwards. 'Twixt Dresden and Vienna + What thing do you discern? + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Something broad-faced, + Flat-folded, parchment-pale, and in its shape + Rectangular; but moving like a cloud + The Dresden way. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Yet gaze more closely on it. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + The object takes a letter's lineaments + Though swollen to mainsail measure,--magically, + I gather from your words; and on its face + Are three vast seals, red--signifying blood + Must I suppose? It moves on Dresden town, + And dwarfs the city as it passes by.-- + You say Napoleon's there? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + The document, + Sized to its big importance, as I told, + Bears in it formal declaration, signed, + Of war by Francis with his late-linked son, + The Emperor of France. Now let us go + To Leipzig city, and await the blow. + + [A chaotic gloom ensues, accompanied by a rushing like that of a + mighty wind.] + + + + +ACT THIRD + + +SCENE I + +LEIPZIG. NAPOLEON'S QUARTERS IN THE REUDNITZ SUBURB + + [The sitting-room of a private mansion. Evening. A large stove- + fire and candles burning. The October wind is heard without, and + the leaded panes of the old windows shake mournfully.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + We come; and learn as Time's disordered dear sands run + That Castlereagh's diplomacy has wiled, waxed, won. + The beacons flash the fevered news to eyes keen bent + That Austria's formal words of war are shaped, sealed, sent. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + So; Poland's three despoilers primed by Bull's gross pay + To stem Napoleon's might, he waits the weird dark day; + His proffered peace declined with scorn, in fell force then + They front him, with yet ten-score thousand more massed men. + + [At the back of the room CAULAINCOURT, DUKE OF VICENZA, and + JOUANNE, one of Napoleon's confidential secretaries, are unpacking + and laying out the Emperor's maps and papers. In the foreground + BERTHIER, MURAT, LAURISTON, and several officers of Napoleon's + suite, are holding a desultory conversation while they await his + entry. Their countenances are overcast.] + + +MURAT + +At least, the scheme of marching on Berlin +Is now abandoned. + + +LAURISTON + + Not without high words: +He yielded and gave order prompt for Leipzig +But coldness and reserve have marked his mood +Towards us ever since. + + +BERTHIER + + The march hereto +He has looked on as a retrogressive one, +And that, he ever holds, is courting woe. +To counsel it was doubtless full of risk, +And heaped us with responsibilities; +--Yet 'twas your missive, sire, that settled it (to MURAT). +How stirred he was! "To Leipzig, or Berlin?" +He kept repeating, as he drew and drew +Fantastic figures on the foolscap sheet,-- +"The one spells ruin--t'other spells success, +And which is which?" + + +MURAT (stiffly) + + What better could I do? +So far were the Allies from sheering off +As he supposed, that they had moved in march +Full fanfare hither! I was duty-bound +To let him know. + + +LAURISTON + + Assuming victory here, +If he should let the advantage slip him by +As on the Dresden day, he wrecks us all! +'Twas damnable--to ride back from the fight +Inside a coach, as though we had not won! + + +CAULAINCOURT (from the back) + +The Emperor was ill: I have ground for knowing. + + [NAPOLEON enters.] + + +NAPOLEON (buoyantly) + +Comrades, the outlook promises us well! + + +MURAT (dryly) + +Right glad are we you tongue such tidings, sire. +To us the stars have visaged differently; +To wit: we muster outside Leipzig here +Levies one hundred and ninety thousand strong. +The enemy has mustered, OUTSIDE US, +Three hundred and fifty thousand--if not more. + + +NAPOLEON + +All that is needful is to conquer them! +We are concentred here: they lie a-spread, +Which shrinks them to two-hundred-thousand power:-- +Though that the urgency of victory +Is absolute, I admit. + + +MURAT + + Yea; otherwise +The issue will be worse than Moscow, sire! + + [MARMONT, DUKE OF RAGUSA (Wellington's adversary in Spain), is + announced, and enters.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Ah, Marmont; bring you in particulars? + + +MARMONT + +Some sappers I have taken captive, sire, +Say the Allies will be at stroke with us +The morning next to to-morrow's.--I am come, +Now, from the steeple-top of Liebenthal, +Where I beheld the enemy's fires bespot +The horizon round with raging eyes of flame:-- +My vanward posts, too, have been driven in, +And I need succours--thrice ten thousand, say. + + +NAPOLEON (coldly) + +The enemy vexes not your vanward posts; +You are mistaken.--Now, however, go; +Cross Leipzig, and remain as the reserve.-- +Well, gentlemen, my hope herein is this: +The first day to annihilate Schwarzenberg, +The second Blucher. So shall we slip the toils +They are all madding to enmesh us in. + + +BERTHIER + +Few are our infantry to fence with theirs! + + +NAPOLEON (cheerfully) + +We'll range them in two lines instead of three, +And so we shall look stronger by one-third. + + +BERTHIER (incredulously) + +Can they be thus deceived, sire? + + +NAPOLEON + + Can they? Yes! +With all my practice I can err in numbers +At least one-quarter; why not they one-third? +Anyhow, 'tis worth trying at a pinch. . . . + + [AUGEREAU is suddenly announced.] + +Good! I've not seen him yet since he arrived. + + [Enter AUGEREAU. + +Here you are then at last, old Augereau! +You have been looked for long.--But you are no more +The Augereau of Castiglione days! + + +AUGEREAU + +Nay, sire! I still should be the Augereau +Of glorious Castiglione, could you give +The boys of Italy back again to me! + + +NAPOLEON + +Well, let it drop. . . . Only I notice round me +An atmosphere of scopeless apathy +Wherein I do not share. + + +AUGEREAU + + There are reasons, sire, +Good reasons for despondence! As I came +I learnt, past question, that Bavaria +Swerves on the very pivot of desertion. +This adds some threescore thousand to our foes. + + +NAPOLEON (irritated) + +That consummation long has threatened us! . . . +Would that you showed the steeled fidelity +You used to show! Except me, all are slack! +(To Murat) Why, even you yourself, my brother-in-law, +Have been inclining to abandon me! + + +MURAT (vehemently) + +I, sire? It is not so. I stand and swear +The grievous imputation is untrue. +You should know better than believe these things, +And well remember I have enemies +Who ever wait to slander me to you! + + +NAPOLEON (more calmly) + +Ah yes, yes. That is so.--And yet--and yet +You have deigned to weigh the feasibility +Of treating me as Austria has done! . . . +But I forgive you. You are a worthy man; +You feel real friendship for me. You are brave. +Yet I was wrong to make a king of you. +If I had been content to draw the line +At vice-king, as with young Eugene, no more, +As he has laboured you'd have laboured, too! +But as full monarch, you have foraged rather +For your own pot than mine! + + [MURAT and the marshal are silent, and look at each other with + troubled countenances. NAPOLEON goes to the table at the back, and + bends over the charts with CAULAINCOURT, dictating desultory notes + to the secretaries.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + A seer might say + This savours of a sad Last-Supper talk + 'Twixt his disciples and this Christ of war! + + [Enter an attendant.] + + +ATTENDANT + +The Saxon King and Queen and the Princess +Enter the city gates, your Majesty. +They seek the shelter of the civic walls +Against the risk of capture by Allies. + + +NAPOLEON + +Ah, so? My friend Augustus, is he near? +I will be prompt to meet him when he comes, +And safely quarter him. (He returns to the map.) + + [An interval. The clock strikes midnight. The EMPEROR rises + abruptly, sighs, and comes forward.] + + I now retire, +Comrades. Good-night, good-night. Remember well +All must prepare to grip with gory death +In the now voidless battle. It will be +A great one and a critical; one, in brief, +That will seal France's fate, and yours, and mine! + + +ALL (fervidly) + +We'll do our utmost, by the Holy Heaven! + + +NAPOLEON + +Ah--what was that? (He pulls back the window-curtain.) + + +SEVERAL + + It is our enemies, +Whose southern hosts are signalling to their north. + + [A white rocket is beheld high in the air. It is followed by a + second, and a third. There is a pause, during which NAPOLEON and + the rest wait motionless. In a minute or two, from the opposite + side of the city, three coloured rockets are sent up, in evident + answer to the three white ones. NAPOLEON muses, and lets the + curtain drop.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Yes, Schwarzenberg to Blucher. . . . It must be +To show that they are ready. So are we! + + [He goes out without saying more. The marshals and other officers + withdraw. The room darkens and ends the scene.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE SAME. THE CITY AND THE BATTLEFIELD + + [Leipzig is viewed in aerial perspective from a position above the + south suburbs, and reveals itself as standing in a plain, with + rivers and marshes on the west, north, and south of it, and higher + ground to the east and south-east. + + At this date it is somewhat in she shape of the letter D, the + straight part of which is the river Pleisse. Except as to this + side it is surrounded by armies--the inner horseshoe of them + being the French defending the city; the outer horseshoe being + the Allies about to attack it. + + Far over the city--as it were at the top of the D--at Lindenthal, + we see MARMONT stationed to meet BLUCHER when he arrives on that + side. To the right of him is NEY, and further off to the right, + on heights eastward, MACDONALD. Then round the curve towards the + south in order, AUGEREAU, LAURISTON (behind whom is NAPOLEON + himself and the reserve of Guards), VICTOR (at Wachau), and + PONIATOWSKI, near the Pleisse River at the bottom of the D. Near + him are the cavalry of KELLERMANN and MILHAUD, and in the same + direction MURAT with his, covering the great avenues of approach + on the south. + + Outside all these stands SCHWARZENBERG'S army, of which, opposed + to MACDONALD and LAURISTON, are KLEINAU'S Austrians and ZIETEN'S + Prussians, covered on the flank by Cossacks under PLATOFF. + Opposed to VICTOR and PONIATOWSKI are MEERFELDT and Hesse-Homburg's + Austrians, WITTGENSTEIN'S Russians, KLEIST'S Prussians, GUILAY'S + Austrians, with LICHTENSTEIN'S and THIELMANN'S light troops: thus + reaching round across the Elster into the morass on our near left-- + the lower point of the D.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + This is the combat of Napoleon's hope, + But not of his assurance! Shrunk in power + He broods beneath October's clammy cope, + While hemming hordes wax denser every hour. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + He knows, he knows that though in equal fight + He stand s heretofore the matched of none, + A feeble skill is propped by numbers' might, + And now three hosts close round to crush out one! + + +DUMB SHOW + +The Leipzig clocks imperturbably strike nine, and the battle which +is to decide the fate of Europe, and perhaps the world, begins with +three booms from the line of the allies. They are the signal for +a general cannonade of devastating intensity. + +So massive is the contest that we soon fail to individualize the +combatants as beings, and can only observe them as amorphous drifts, +clouds, and waves of conscious atoms, surging and rolling together; +can only particularize them by race, tribe, and language. +Nationalities from the uttermost parts of Asia here meet those from +the Atlantic edge of Europe for the first and last time. By noon +the sound becomes a loud droning, uninterrupted and breve-like, as +from the pedal of an organ kept continuously down. + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS + + Now triple battle beats about the town, + And now contracts the huge elastic ring + Of fighting flesh, as those within go down, + Or spreads, as those without show faltering! + + +It becomes apparent that the French have a particular intention, +the Allies only a general one. That of the French is to break +through the enemy's centre and surround his right. To this end +NAPOLEON launches fresh columns, and simultaneously OUDINOT supports +VICTOR against EUGENE OF WURTEMBERG'S right, while on the other +side of him the cavalry of MILHAUD and KELLERMAN prepares to charge. +NAPOLEON'S combination is successful, and drives back EUGENE. +Meanwhile SCHWARZENBERG is stuck fast, useless in the marshes +between the Pleisse and the Elster. + +By three o'clock the Allied centre, which has held out against the +assaults of the French right and left, is broken through by cavalry +under MURAT, LATOUR-MAUBOURG, and KELLERMANN. + +The bells of Leipzig ring. + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES + + Those chimings, ill-advised and premature! + Who knows if such vast valour will endure? + + +The Austro-Russians are withdrawn from the marshes by SCHWARZENBERG. +But the French cavalry also get entangled in the swamps, and +simultaneously MARMONT is beaten at Mockern. + +Meanwhile NEY, to the north of Leipzig, having heard the battle +raging southward, leaves his position to assist it. He has nearly +arrived when he hears BLUCHER attacking at the point he came from, +and sends back some of his divisions. + +BERTRAND has kept open the west road to Lindenau and the Rhine, the +only French line of retreat. + +Evening finds the battle a drawn one. With the nightfall three blank +shots reverberate hollowly. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS + + They sound to say that, for this moaning night, + As Nature sleeps, so too shall sleep the fight; + Neither the victor. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + But, for France and him, + Half-won is losing! + + +CHORUS + + Yea, his hopes drop dim, + Since nothing less than victory to-day + Had saved a cause whose ruin is delay! + + +The night gets thicker and no more is seen. + + + +SCENE III + +THE SAME, FROM THE TOWER OF THE PLEISSENBURG + + [The tower commands a view of a great part of the battlefield. + Day has just dawned, and citizens, saucer-eyed from anxiety and + sleeplessness, are discover watching.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +The wind increased at midnight while I watched, +With flapping showers, and clouds that combed the moon, +Till dawn began outheaving this huge day, +Pallidly--as if scared by its own issue; +This day that the Allies with bonded might +Have vowed to deal their felling finite blow. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +So must it be! They have welded close the coop +Wherein our luckless Frenchmen are enjailed +With such compression that their front has shrunk +From five miles' farness to but half as far.-- +Men say Napoleon made resolve last night +To marshal a retreat. If so, his way +Is by the Bridge of Lindenau. + + [They look across in the cold east light at the long straight + causeway from the Ranstadt Gate at the north-west corner of the + town, and the Lindenau bridge over the Elster beyond.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +Last night I saw, like wolf-packs, hosts appear +Upon the Dresden road; and then, anon, +The already stout arrays of Schwarzenberg +Grew stoutened more. I witnessed clearly, too, +Just before dark, the bands of Bernadotte +Come, hemming in the north more thoroughly. +The horizon glowered with a thousand fires +As the unyielding circle shut around. + + [As it grows light they scan and define the armies.] + + +THIRD CITIZEN + +Those lying there, 'twixt Connewitz and Dolitz, +Are the right wing of horse Murat commands. +Next, Poniatowski, Victor, and the rest. +Out here, Napoleon's centre at Probstheida, +Where he has bivouacked. Those round this way +Are his left wing with Ney, that face the north +Between Paunsdorf and Gohlis.--Thus, you see +They are skilfully sconced within the villages, +With cannon ranged in front. And every copse, +Dingle, and grove is packed with riflemen. + + [The heavy sky begins to clear with the full arrival of the + morning. The sun bursts out, and the previously dark and gloomy + masses glitter in the rays. It is now seven o'clock, and with the + shining of the sun, the battle is resumed. + + The army of Bohemia to the south and east, in three great columns, + marches concentrically upon NAPOLEON'S new and much-contracted line + --the first column of thirty-five thousand under BENNIGSEN; the + second, the central, forty-five thousand under BARCLAY DE TOLLY; + the third, twenty-five thousand under the PRINCE OF HESSE-HOMBURG. + + An interval of suspense.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +Ah, see! The French bend, falter, and fall back. + + [Another interval. Then a huge rumble of artillery resounds from + the north.] + + +SEMICHORUS OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + Now Blucher has arrived; and now falls to! + Marmont withdraws before him. Bernadotte + Touching Bennigsen, joins attack with him, + And Ney must needs recede. This serves as sign + To Schwarzenberg to bear upon Probstheida-- + Napoleon's keystone and dependence here. + But for long whiles he fails to win his will, + The chief being nigh--outmatching might with skill. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Ney meanwhile, stung still sharplier, still withdraws + Nearer the town, and met by new mischance, + Finds him forsaken by his Saxon wing-- + Fair files of thrice twelve thousand footmanry. + But rallying those still true with signs and calls, + He warely closes up his remnant to the walls. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Around Probstheida still the conflict rolls + Under Napoleon's eye surpassingly. + Like sedge before the scythe the sections fall + And bayonets slant and reek. Each cannon-blaze + Makes the air thick with human limbs; while keen + Contests rage hand to hand. Throats shout "advance," + And forms walm, wallow, and slack suddenly. + Hot ordnance split and shiver and rebound, + And firelocks fouled and flintless overstrew the ground. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + At length the Allies, daring tumultuously, + Find them inside Probstheida. There is fixed + Napoleon's cardinal and centre hold. + But need to loose it grows his gloomy fear + As night begins to brown and treacherous mists appear. + + +CHORUS + + Then, on the three fronts of this reaching field, + A furious, far, and final cannonade + Burns from two thousand mouths and shakes the plain, + And hastens the sure end! Towards the west + Bertrand keeps open the retreating-way, + Along which wambling waggons since the noon + Have crept in closening file. Dusk draws around; + The marching remnants drowse amid their talk, + And worn and harrowed horses slumber as the walk. + + [In the darkness of the distance spread cries from the maimed + animals and the wounded men. Multitudes of the latter contrive to + crawl into the city, until the streets are full of them. Their + voices are heard calling.] + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +They cry for water! Let us go down, +And do what mercy may. + + [Exeunt citizens from the tower.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + A fire is lit + Near to the Thonberg wind-wheel. Can it be + Napoleon tarries yet? Let us go see. + + [The distant firelight becomes clearer and closer.] + + + +SCENE IV + +THE SAME. AT THE THONBERG WINDMILL + + [By the newly lighted fire NAPOLEON is seen walking up and down, + much agitated and worn. With him are MURAT, BERTHIER, AUGEREAU, + VICTOR, and other marshals of corps that have been engaged in this + part of the field--all perspiring, muddy, and fatigued.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Baseness so gross I had not guessed of them!-- +The thirty thousand false Bavarians +I looked on losing not unplacidly; +But these troth-swearing sober Saxonry +I reckoned staunch by virtue of their king! +Thirty-five thousand and gone! It magnifies +A failure into a catastrophe. . . . +Murat, we must retreat precipitately, +And not as hope had dreamed! Begin it then +This very hour.--Berthier, write out the orders.-- +Let me sit down. + + [A chair is brought out from the mill. NAPOLEON sinks into it, and + BERTHIER, stooping over the fire, begins writing to the Emperor's + dictation, the marshals looking with gloomy faces at the flaming + logs. + + NAPOLEON has hardly dictated a line when he stops short. BERTHIER + turns round and finds that he has dropt asleep.] + + +MURAT (sullenly) + + Far better not disturb him; +He'll soon enough awake! + + [They wait, muttering to one another in tones expressing weary + indifference to issues. NAPOLEON sleeps heavily for a quarter of + and hour, during which the moon rises over the field. At the end + he starts up stares around him with astonishment.] + + +NAPOLEON + + Am I awake? +Or is this all a dream?--Ah, no. Too real! . . . +And yet I have seen ere now a time like this. + + [The dictation is resumed. While it is in progress there can be + heard between the words of NAPOLEON the persistent cries from the + plain, rising and falling like those of a vast rookery far away, + intermingled with the trampling of hoofs and the rumble of wheels. + The bivouac fires of the engirdling enemy glow all around except + for a small segment to the west--the track of retreat, still kept + open by BERTRAND, and already taken by the baggage-waggons. + + The orders for its adoption by the entire army being completed, + NAPOLEON bids adieu to his marshals, and rides with BERTHIER and + CAULAINCOURT into Leipzig. Exeunt also the others.] + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES + + Now, as in the dream of one sick to death, + There comes a narrowing room + That pens him, body and limbs and breath, + To wait a hideous doom, + + +SEMICHORUS II + + So to Napoleon in the hush + That holds the town and towers + Through this dire night, a creeping crush + Seems inborne with the hours. + + [The scene closes under a rimy mist, which makes a lurid cloud of + the firelights.] + + + +SCENE V + +THE SAME. A STREET NEAR THE RANSTADT GATE + + [High old-fashioned houses form the street, along which, from the + east of the city, is streaming a confusion of waggons, in hurried + exit through the gate westward upon the highroad to Lindenau, + Lutzen, and the Rhine. + + In front of an inn called the "Prussian Arms" are some attendants + of NAPOLEON waiting with horses.] + + +FIRST OFFICER + +He has just come from bidding the king and queen +A long good-bye. . . . Is it that they will pay +For his indulgence of their past ambition +By sharing now his ruin? Much the king +Did beg him to leave them to their lot, +And shun the shame of capture needlessly. + (He looks anxiously towards the door.) +I would he'd haste! Each minute is of price. + + +SECOND OFFICER + +The king will come to terms with the Allies. +They will not hurt him. Though he has lost his all, +His case is not like ours! + + [The cheers of the approaching enemy grow louder. NAPOLEON comes + out from the "Prussian Arms," haggard and in disordered attire. + He is about to mount, but, perceiving the blocked state of the + street, he hesitates.] + + +NAPOLEON + + God, what a crowd! +I shall more quickly gain the gate afoot. +There is a byway somewhere, I suppose? + + [A citizen approaches out of the inn.] + + +CITIZEN + +This alley, sire, will speed you to the gate; +I shall be honoured much to point the way. + + +NAPOLEON + +Then do, good friend. (To attendants) Bring on the horses there; +I if arrive soonest I will wait for you. + + [The citizen shows NAPOLEON the way into the alley.] + + +CITIZEN + +A garden's at the end, your Majesty, +Through which you pass. Beyond there is a door +That opens to the Elster bank unbalked. + + [NAPOLEON disappears into the alley. His attendants plunge amid + the traffic with the horses, and thread their way down the street. + + Another citizen comes from the door of the inn and greets the + first.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +He's gone! + + +SECOND CITIZEN + + I'll see if he succeed. + + [He re-enters the inn and soon appears at an upper window.] + + +FIRST CITIZEN (from below) + + You see him? + + +SECOND CITIZEN (gazing) + +He is already at the garden-end; +Now he has passed out to the river-brim, +And plods along it toward the Ranstadt Gate. . . . +He finds no horses for him! . . . And the crowd +Thrusts him about, none recognizing him. +Ah--now the horses do arrive. He mounts, +And hurries through the arch. . . . Again I see him-- +Now he's upon the causeway in the marsh; +Now rides across the bridge of Lindenau . . . +And now, among the troops that choke the road +I lose all sight of him. + + [A third citizen enters from the direction NAPOLEON has taken.] + + +THIRD CITIZEN (breathlessly) + + I have seen him go! +And while he passed the gate I stood i' the crowd +So close I could have touched him! Few discerned +In one so soiled the erst Arch-Emperor!-- +In the lax mood of him who has lost all +He stood inert there, idly singing thin: +"Malbrough s'en va-t-en guerre!"--until his suite +Came up with horses. + + +SECOND CITIZEN (still gazing afar) + + Poniatowski's Poles +Wearily walk the level causeway now; +Also, meseems, Macdonald's corps and Reynier's. +The frail-framed, new-built bridge has broken down: +They've but the old to cross by. + + +FIRST CITIZEN + + Feeble foresight! +They should have had a dozen. + + +SECOND CITIZEN + + All the corps-- +Macdonald's, Poniatowski's, Reynier's--all-- +Confusedly block the entrance to the bridge. +And--verily Blucher's troops are through the town, +And are debouching from the Ranstadt Gate +Upon the Frenchmen's rear! + + [A thunderous report stops his words, echoing through the city from + the direction in which he is gazing, and rattling all the windows. + A hoarse chorus of cries becomes audible immediately after.] + + +FIRST, THIRD, ETC., CITIZENS + + Ach, Heaven!--what's that? + + +SECOND CITIZEN + +The bridge of Lindenau has been upblown! + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + There leaps to the sky and earthen wave, + And stones, and men, as though + Some rebel churchyard crew updrave + Their sepulchres from below. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + To Heaven is blown Bridge Lindenau; + Wrecked regiments reel therefrom; + And rank and file in masses plough + The sullen Elster-Strom. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + A gulf is Lindenau; and dead + Are fifties, hundreds, tens; + And every current ripples red + With marshals' blood and men's. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The smart Macdonald swims therein, + And barely wins the verge; + Bold Poniatowski plunges in + Never to re-emerge! + + +FIRST CITIZEN + +Are not the French across as yet, God save them? + + +SECOND CITIZEN (still gazing above) + +Nor Reynier's corps, Macdonald's, Lauriston's, +Nor yet the Poles. . . . And Blucher's troops approach, +And all the French this side are prisoners. +--Now for our handling by the Prussian host; +Scant courtesy for our king! + + [Other citizens appear beside him at the window, and further + conversation continues entirely above.] + + +CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS + + The Battle of the Nations now is closing, + And all is lost to One, to many gained; + The old dynastic routine reimposing, + The new dynastic structure unsustained. + + Now every neighbouring realm is France's warder, + And smirking satisfaction will be feigned: + The which is seemlier?--so-called ancient order, + Or that the hot-breath'd war-horse ramp unreined? + + [The October night thickens and curtains the scene.] + + + +SCENE VI + +THE PYRENEES. NEAR THE RIVER NIVELLE + + [Evening. The dining-room of WELLINGTON'S quarters. The table is + laid for dinner. The battle of the Nivelle has just been fought. + + Enter WELLINGTON, HILL, BERESFORD, STEWART, HOPE, CLINTON, COLBORNE, + COLE, KEMPT (with a bound-up wound), and other officers. + + +WELLINGTON + +It is strange that they did not hold their grand position more +tenaciously against us to-day. By God, I don't quite see why we +should have beaten them! + + +COLBORNE + +My impression is that they had the stiffness taken out of them by +something they had just heard of. Anyhow, startling news of some +kind was received by those of the Eighty-eighth we took in the +signal-redoubt after I summoned the Commandant. + + +WELLINGTON + +Oh, what news? + + +COLBORNE + +I cannot say, my lord, I only know that the latest number of the +_Imperial Gazette_ was seen in the hands of some of them before the +capture. They had been reading the contents, and were cast down. + + +WELLINGTON + +That's interesting. I wonder what the news could have been? + + +HILL + +Something about Boney's army in Saxony would be most probable. +Though I question if there's time yet for much to have been +decided there. + + +BERESFORD + +Well, I wouldn't say that. A hell of a lot of things may have +happened there by this time. + + +COLBORNE + +It was tantalizing, but they were just able to destroy the paper +before we could prevent them. + + +WELLINGTON + +Did you question them? + + +COLBORNE + +Oh yes. But they stayed sulking at being taken, and would tell us +nothing, pretending that they knew nothing. Whether much were going +on, they said, or little, between the army of the Emperor and the +army of the Allies, it was none of their business to relate it; so +they kept a gloomy silence for the most part. + + +WELLINGTON + +They will cheer up a bit and be more communicative when they have had +some dinner. + + +COLE + +They are dining here, my lord? + + +WELLINGTON + +I sent them an invitation an hour ago, which they have accepted. +I could do no less, poor devils. They'll be here in a few minutes. +See that they have plenty of Madeira to whet their whistles with. +It well screw them up into a better key, and they'll not be so +reserved. + + [The conversation on the day's battle becomes general. Enter as + guests French officers of the Eighty-eighth regiment now prisoners + on parole. They are welcomed by WELLINGTON and the staff, and all + sit down to dinner. + + For some time the meal proceeds almost in silence; but wine is + passed freely, and both French and English officers become + talkative and merry. + + +WELLINGTON (to the French Commandant) + +More cozy this, sir, than--I'll warrant me-- +You found it in that damned redoubt to-day? + + +COMMANDANT + +The devil if 'tis not, monseigneur, sure! + + +WELLINGTON + +So 'tis for us who were outside, by God! + + +COMMANDANT (gloomily) + +No; we were not at ease! Alas, my lord, +'Twas more than flesh and blood could do, to fight +After such paralyzing tidings came. +More life may trickle out of men through thought +Than through a gaping wound. + + +WELLINGTON + + Your reference +Bears on the news from Saxony, I infer? + + +SECOND FRENCH OFFICER + +Yes: on the Emperor's ruinous defeat +At Leipzig city--brought to our startled heed +By one of the _Gazettes_ just now arrived. + + [All the English officers stop speaking, and listen eagerly.] + + +WELLINGTON + +Where are the Emperor's headquarters now? + + +COMMANDANT + +My lord, there are no headquarters. + + +WELLINGTON + + No headquarters? + + +COMMANDANT + +There are no French headquarters now, my lord, +For there is no French army! France's fame +Is fouled. And how, then, could we fight to-day +With our hearts in our shoes! + + +WELLINGTON + + Why, that bears out +What I but lately said; it was not like +The brave men who have faced and foiled me here +So many a long year past, to give away +A stubborn station quite so readily. + + +BERESFORD + +And what, messieurs, ensued at Leipzig then? + + +SEVERAL FRENCH OFFICERS + +Why, sirs, should we conceal it? Thereupon +Part of our army took the Lutzen road; +Behind a blown-up bridge. Those in advance +Arrived at Lutzen with the Emperor-- +The scene of our once famous victory! +In such sad sort retreat was hurried on, +Erfurt was gained with Blucher hot at heel. +To cross the Rhine seemed then our only hope; +Alas, the Austrians and the Bavarians +Faced us in Hanau Forest, led by Wrede, +And dead-blocked our escape. + + +WELLINGTON + + Ha. Did they though? + + +SECOND FRENCH OFFICER + +But if brave hearts were ever desperate, +Sir, we were desperate then! We pierced them through, +Our loss unrecking. So by Frankfurt's walls +We fared to Mainz, and there recrossed the Rhine. +A funeral procession, so we seemed, +Upon the long bridge that had rung so oft +To our victorious feet! . . . What since has coursed +We know not, gentlemen. But this we know, +That Germany echoes no French footfall! + + +AN ENGLISH OFFICER + +One sees not why it should. + + +SECOND FRENCH OFFICER + + We'll leave it so. + + [Conversation on the Leipzig disaster continues till the dinner + ends The French prisoners courteously take their leave and go + out.] + + +WELLINGTON + +Very good set of fellows. I could wish +They all were mine! . . .Well, well; there was no crime +In trying to ascertain these fat events: +They would have sounded soon from other tongues. + + +HILL + +It looks like the first scene of act the last +For our and all men's foe! + + +WELLINGTON + + I count to meet +The Allies upon the cobble-stones of Paris +Before another half-year's suns have shone. +--But there's some work for us to do here yet: +The dawn must find us fording the Nivelle! + + [Exeunt WELLINGTON and officers. The room darkens.] + + + + +ACT FOURTH + + +SCENE I + +THE UPPER RHINE + + [The view is from a vague altitude over the beautiful country + traversed by the Upper Rhine, which stretches through it in + birds-eye perspective. At this date in Europe's history the + stream forms the frontier between France and Germany. + + It is the morning of New Year's Day, and the shine of the tardy + sun reaches the fronts of the beetling castles, but scarcely + descends far enough to touch the wavelets of the river winding + leftwards across the many-leagued picture from Schaffhausen to + Coblenz.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +At first nothing--not even the river itself--seems to move in the +panorama. But anon certain strange dark patches in the landscape, +flexuous and riband-shaped, are discerned to be moving slowly. +Only one movable object on earth is large enough to be conspicuous +herefrom, and that is an army. The moving shapes are armies. + +The nearest, almost beneath us, is defiling across the river by a +bridge of boats, near the junction of the Rhine and the Neckar, +where the oval town of Mannheim, standing in the fork between the +two rivers, has from here the look of a human head in a cleft +stick. Martial music from many bands strikes up as the crossing +is effected, and the undulating columns twinkle as if they were +scaly serpents. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + It is the Russian host, invading France! + + +Many miles to the left, down-stream, near the little town of Caube, +another army is seen to be simultaneously crossing the pale current, +its arms and accoutrements twinkling in like manner. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Thither the Prussian levies, too, advance! + + +Turning now to the right, far away by Basel (beyond which the +Swiss mountains close the scene), a still larger train of war- +geared humanity, two hundred thousand strong, is discernible. +It has already crossed the water, which is much narrower here, +and has advanced several miles westward, where its ductile mass +of greyness and glitter is beheld parting into six columns, that +march on in flexuous courses of varying direction. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + There glides carked Austria's invading force!-- + Panting, too, Paris-wards with foot and horse, + Of one intention with the other twain, + And Wellington, from the south, in upper Spain. + + +All these dark and grey columns, converging westward by sure +degrees, advance without opposition. They glide on as if by +gravitation, in fluid figures, dictated by the conformation of +the country, like water from a burst reservoir; mostly snake- +shaped, but occasionally with batrachian and saurian outlines. +In spite of the immensity of this human mechanism on its surface, +the winter landscape wears an impassive look, as if nothing were +happening. + +Evening closes in, and the Dumb Show is obscured. + + + +SCENE II + +PARIS. THE TUILERIES + + [It is Sunday just after mass, and the principal officers of the + National Guard are assembled in the Salle des Marechaux. They + stand in an attitude of suspense, some with the print of sadness + on their faces, some with that of perplexity. + + The door leading from the Hall to the adjoining chapel is thrown + open. There enter from the chapel with the last notes of the + service the EMPEROR NAPOLEON and the EMPRESS; and simultaneously + from a door opposite MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU, the governess, who + carries in her arms the KING OF ROME, now a fair child between + two and three. He is clothed in a miniature uniform of the + Guards themselves. + + MADAM DE MONTESQUIOU brings forward the child and sets him on his + feet near his mother. NAPOLEON, with a mournful smile, giving one + hand to the boy and the other to MARIE LOUISE, _en famille_, leads + them forward. The Guard bursts into cheers.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Gentlemen of the National Guard and friends, +I have to leave you; and before I fare +To Heaven know what of personal destiny, +I give into your loyal guardianship +Those dearest in the world to me; my wife, +The Empress, and my son the King of Rome.-- +I go to shield your roofs and kin from foes +Who have dared to pierce the fences of our land; +And knowing that you house those dears of mine, +I start afar in all tranquillity, +Stayed by my trust in your proved faithfulness. + (Enthusiastic cheers for the Guard.) + + +OFFICERS (with emotion) + +We proudly swear to justify the trust! +And never will we see another sit +Than you, or yours, on the great throne of France. + + +NAPOLEON + +I ratify the Empress' regency, +And re-confirm it on last year's lines, +My bother Joseph stoutening her rule +As the Lieutenant-General of the State.-- +Vex her with no divisions; let regard +For property, for order, and for France +Be chief with all. Know, gentlemen, the Allies +Are drunken with success. Their late advantage +They have handled wholly for their own gross gain, +And made a pastime of my agony. + +That I go clogged with cares I sadly own; +Yet I go primed with hope; ay, in despite +Of a last sorrow that has sunk upon me,-- +The grief of hearing, good and constant friends, +That my own sister's consort, Naples' king, +Blazons himself a backer of the Allies, +And marches with a Neapolitan force +Against our puissance under Prince Eugene. + +The varied operations to ensue +May bring the enemy largely Paris-wards; +But suffer no alarm; before long days +I will annihilate by flank and rear +Those who have risen to trample on our soil; +And as I have done so many and proud a time, +Come back to you with ringing victory!-- +Now, see: I personally present to you +My son and my successor ere I go. + + [He takes the child in his arms and carries him round to the + officers severally. They are much affected and raise loud + cheers.] + +You stand by him and her? You swear as much? + + +OFFICERS + +We do! + + +NAPOLEON + + This you repeat--you promise it? + + +OFFICERS + +We promise. May the dynasty live for ever! + + [Their shouts, which spread to the Carrousel without, are echoed + by the soldiers of the Guard assembled there. The EMPRESS is now + in tears, and the EMPEROR supports her.] + + +MARIE LOUISE + +Such whole enthusiasm I have never known!-- +Not even from the Landwehr of Vienna. + + [Amid repeated protestations and farewells NAPOLEON, the EMPRESS, + the KING OF ROME, MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU, etc. go out in one + direction, and the officers of the National Guard in another. + + The curtain falls for an interval. + + When it rises again the apartment is in darkness, and its atmosphere + chilly. The January night-wind howls without. Two servants enter + hastily, and light candles and a fire. The hands of the clock are + pointing to three. + + The room is hardly in order when the EMPEROR enters, equipped for + the intended journey; and with him, his left arm being round her + waist, walks MARIE LOUISE in a dressing-gown. On his right arm + he carries the KING OF ROME, and in his hand a bundle of papers. + COUNT BERTRAND and a few members of the household follow. + + Reaching the middle of the room, he kisses the child and embraces + the EMPRESS, who is tearful, the child weeping likewise. NAPOLEON + takes the papers to the fire, thrusts them in, and watches them + consume; then burns other bundles brought by his attendants.] + + +NAPOLEON (gloomily) + +Better to treat them thus; since no one knows +What comes, or into whose hands he may fall! + + +MARIE LOUISE + +I have an apprehension-unexplained-- +That I shall never see you any more! + + +NAPOLEON + +Dismiss such fears. You may as well as not. +As things are doomed to be they will be, dear. +If shadows must come, let them come as though +The sun were due and you were trusting to it: +'Twill teach the world it wrongs in bringing them. + + [They embrace finally. Exeunt NAPOLEON, etc. Afterwards MARIE + LOUISE and the child.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Her instinct forwardly is keen in cast, + And yet how limited. True it may be + They never more will meet; although--to use + The bounded prophecy I am dowered with-- + The screen that will maintain their severance + Would pass her own believing; proving it + No gaol-grille, no scath of scorching war, + But this persuasion, pressing on her pulse + To breed aloofness and a mind averse; + Until his image in her soul will shape + Dwarfed as a far Colossus on a plain, + Or figure-head that smalls upon the main. + + [The lights are extinguished and the hall is left in darkness.] + + + +SCENE III + +THE SAME. THE APARTMENTS OF THE EMPRESS + + [A March morning, verging on seven o'clock, throws its cheerless + stare into the private drawing-room of MARIE LOUISE, animating + the gilt furniture to only a feeble shine. Two chamberlains of + the palace are there in waiting. They look from the windows and + yawn.] + + +FIRST CHAMBERLAIN + +Here's a watering for spring hopes! Who would have supposed when +the Emperor left, and appointed her Regent, that she and the Regency +too would have to scurry after in so short a time! + + +SECOND CHAMBERLAIN + +Was a course decided on last night? + + +FIRST CHAMBERLAIN + +Yes. The Privy Council sat till long past midnight, debating the +burning question whether she and the child should remain or not. +Some were one way, some the other. She settled the matter by saying +she would go. + + +SECOND CHAMBERLAIN + +I thought it might come to that. I heard the alarm beating all night +to assemble the National Guard; and I am told that some volunteers +have marched out to support Marmot. But they are a mere handful: +what can they do? + + [A clatter of wheels and a champing and prancing of horses is + heard outside the palace. MENEVAL enters, and divers officers + of the household; then from her bedroom at the other end MARIE + LOUISE, in a travelling dress and hat, leading the KING OF ROME, + attired for travel likewise. She looks distracted and pale. + Next come the DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO, lady of honour, the COUNTESS + DE MONTESQUIOU, ladies of the palace, and others, all in travelling + trim.] + + +KING OF ROME (plaintively) + +Why are we doing these strange things, mamma, +And what did we get up so early for? + + +MARIE LOUISE + +I cannot, dear, explain. So many events +Enlarge and make so many hours of one, +That it would be too hard to tell them now. + + +KING OF ROME + +But you know why we a setting out like this? +Is it because we fear our enemies? + + +MARIE LOUISE + +We are not sure that we are going yet. +I may be needful; but don't ask me here. +Some time I will tell you. + + [She sits down irresolutely, and bestows recognitions on the + assembled officials with a preoccupied air.] + + +KING OF ROME (in a murmur) + + I like being here best; +And I don't want to go I know not where! + + +MARIE LOUISE + +Run, dear to Mamma 'Quiou and talk to her + (He goes across to MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU.) +I hear that women of the Royalist hope + (To the DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO) +Have bent them busy in their private rooms +With working white cockades these several days.-- +Yes--I must go! + + +DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO + + But why yet, Empress dear? +We may soon gain good news; some messenger +Hie from the Emperor or King Joseph hither? + + +MARIE LOUISE + +King Joseph I await. He's gone to eye +The outposts, with the Ministers of War, +To learn the scope and nearness of the Allies; +He should almost be back. + + [A silence, till approaching feet are suddenly heard outside the + door.] + + Ah, here he comes; +Now we shall know! + + [Enter precipitately not Joseph but officers of the National Guard + and others.] + + +OFFICERS + + Long live the Empress-regent! +Do not quit Paris, pray, your Majesty. +Remain, remain. We plight us to defend you! + + +MARIE LOUISE (agitated) + +Gallant messieurs, I thank you heartily. +But by the Emperor's biddance I am bound. +He has vowed he'd liefer see me and my son +Blanched at the bottom of the smothering Seine +Than in the talons of the foes of France.-- +To keep us sure from such, then, he ordained +Our swift withdrawal with the Ministers +Towards the Loire, if enemies advanced +In overmastering might. They do advance; +Marshal Marmont and Mortier are repulsed, +And that has come whose hazard he foresaw. +All is arranged; the treasure is awheel, +And papers, seals, and cyphers packed therewith. + + +OFFICERS (dubiously) + +Yet to leave Paris is to court disaster! + + +MARIE LOUISE (with petulance) + +I shall do what I say! . . . I don't know what-- +What SHALL I do! + + [She bursts into tears and rushes into her bedroom, followed by + the young KING and some of her ladies. There is a painful silence, + broken by sobbings and expostulations within. Re-enter one of the + ladies.] + + +LADY + + She's sorely overthrown; +She flings herself upon the bed distraught. +She says, "My God, let them make up their minds +To one or other of these harrowing ills, +And force to't, and end my agony!" + + [An official enters at the main door.] + + +OFFICIAL + +I am sent here by the Minister of War +To her Imperial Majesty the Empress. + + [Re-enter MARIE LOUISE and the KING OF ROME.] + +Your Majesty, my mission is to say +Imperious need dictates your instant flight. +A vanward regiment of the Prussian packs +Has gained the shadow of the city walls. + + +MENEVAL + +They are armed Europe's scouts! + + [Enter CAMBACERES the Arch-Chancellor, COUNT BEAUHARNAIS, CORVISART + the physician, DE BAUSSET, DE CANISY the equerry, and others.] + + +CAMBACERES + + Your Majesty, +There's not a trice to lose. The force well-nigh +Of all compacted Europe crowds on us, +And clamours at the walls! + + +BEAUHARNAIS + + If you stay longer, +You stay to fall into the Cossacks hands. +The people, too, are waxing masterful: +They think the lingering of your Majesty +Makes Paris more a peril for themselves +Than a defence for you. To fight is fruitless, +And wanton waste of life. You have nought to do +But go; and I, and all the Councillors, +Will follow you. + + +MARIE LOUISE + + Then I was right to say +That I would go! Now go I surely will, +And let none try to hinder me again! + +[She prepares to leave.] + + +KING OF ROME (crying) + +I will not go! I like to live here best! +Don't go to Rambouillet, mamma; please don't. +It is a nasty place! Let us stay here. +O Mamma 'Quiou, stay with me here; pray stay! + + +MARIE LOUISE (to the Equerry) + +Bring him down. + + [Exit MARIE LOUISE in tears, followed by ladies-in-waiting and + others.] + + +DE CANISY + + Come now, Monseigneur, come. + + [He catches up the boy in his arms and prepares to follow the + Empress.] + + +KING OF ROME (kicking) + +No, no, no! I don't want to go away from my house--I don't want to! +Now papa is away I am the master! (He clings to the door as the +equerry is bearing him through it.) + + +DE CANISY + +But you must go. + + [The child's fingers are pulled away. Exit DE CANISY with the King + OF ROME, who is heard screaming as he is carried down the staircase.] + + +MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU + + I feel the child is right! +A premonition has enlightened him. +She ought to stay. But, ah, the die is cast! + + [MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU and the remainder of the party follow, and + the room is left empty. Enter servants hastily.] + + +FIRST SERVANT + +Sacred God, where are we to go to for grub and good lying to-night? +What are ill-used men to do? + + +SECOND SERVANT + +I trudge like the rest. All the true philosophers are gone, and the +middling true are going. I made up my mind like the truest that ever +was as soon as I heard the general alarm beat. + + +THIRD SERVANT + +I stay here. No Allies are going to tickle our skins. The storm +which roots--Dost know what a metaphor is, comrade? I brim with +them at this historic time! + + +SECOND SERVANT + +A weapon of war used by the Cossacks? + + +THIRD SERVANT + +Your imagination will be your ruin some day, my man! It happens to +be a weapon of wisdom used by me. My metaphor is one may'st have +met with on the rare times when th'hast been in good society. Here +it is: The storm which roots the pine spares the p--s--b--d. Now +do you see? + + +FIRST AND SECOND SERVANTS + +Good! Your teaching, friend, is as sound as true religion! We'll +not go. Hearken to what's doing outside. (Carriages are heard +moving. Servants go to the window and look down.) Lord, there's +the Duchess getting in. Now the Mistress of the Wardrobe; now the +Ladies of the Palace; now the Prefects; now the Doctors. What a +time it takes! There are near a dozen berlines, as I am a patriot! +Those other carriages bear treasure. How quiet the people are! It +is like a funeral procession. Not a tongue cheers her! + + +THIRD SERVANT + +Now there will be a nice convenient time for a little good victuals +and drink, and likewise pickings, before the Allies arrive, thank +Mother Molly! + + [From a distant part of the city bands are heard playing military + marches. Guns next resound. Another servant rushes in.] + + +FOURTH SERVANT + +Montmartre is being stormed, and bombs are falling in the Chaussee +d'Antin! + + [Exit fourth servant.] + + +THIRD SERVANT (pulling something from his hat) + +Then it is time for me to gird my armour on. + + +SECOND SERVANT + +What hast there? + + [Third servant holds up a crumpled white cockade and sticks it in + his hair. The firing gets louder.] + + +FIRST AND SECOND SERVANTS + +Hast got another? + + +THIRD SERVANT (pulling out more) + +Ay--here they are; at a price. + + [The others purchase cockades of third servant. A military march + is again heard. Re-enter fourth servant.] + + +FOURTH SERVANT + +The city has capitulated! The Allied sovereigns, so it is said, +will enter in grand procession to-morrow: the Prussian cavalry +first, then the Austrian foot, then the Russian and Prussian foot, +then the Russian horse and artillery. And to cap all, the people +of Paris are glad of the change. They have put a rope round the +neck of the statue of Napoleon on the column of the Grand Army, and +are amusing themselves with twitching it and crying "Strangle the +Tyrant!" + + +SECOND SERVANT + +Well, well! There's rich colours in this kaleidoscopic world! + + +THIRD SERVANT + +And there's comedy in all things--when they don't concern you. +Another glorious time among the many we've had since eighty-nine. +We have put our armour on none too soon. The Bourbons for ever! + + [He leaves, followed by first and second servants.] + + +FOURTH SERVANT + +My faith, I think I'll turn Englishman in my older years, where +there's not these trying changes in the Constitution! + + [Follows the others. The Allies military march waxes louder as + the scene shuts.] + + + +SCENE IV + +FONTAINEBLEAU. A ROOM IN THE PALACE + + [NAPOLEON is discovered walking impatiently up and down, and + glancing at the clock every few minutes. Enter NEY.] + + +NAPOLEON (without a greeting) + +Well--the result? Ah, but your looks display +A leaden dawning to the light you bring! +What--not a regency? What--not the Empress +To hold it in trusteeship for my son? + + +NEY + +Sire, things like revolutions turn back, +But go straight on. Imperial governance +Is coffined for your family and yourself! +It is declared that military repose, +And France's well-doing, demand of you +Your abdication--unconditioned, sheer. +This verdict of the sovereigns cannot change, +And I have pushed on hot to let you know. + + +NAPOLEON (with repression) + +I am obliged to you. You have told me promptly!-- +This was to be expected. I had learnt +Of Marmont's late defection, and the Sixth's; +The consequence I easily inferred. + + +NEY + +The Paris folk are flaked with white cockades; +Tricolors choke the kennels. Rapturously +They clamour for the Bourbons and for peace. + + +NAPOLEON (tartly) + +I can draw inferences without assistance! + + +NEY (persisting) + +They see the brooks of blood that have flowed forth; +They feel their own bereavements; so their mood +Asked no deep reasoning for its geniture. + + +NAPOLEON + +I have no remarks to make on that just now. +I'll think the matter over. You shall know +By noon to-morrow my definitive. + + +NEY (turning to go) + +I trust my saying what had to be said +Has not affronted you? + + +NAPOLEON (bitterly) + + No; but your haste +In doing it has galled me, and has shown me +A heart that heaves no longer in my cause! +The skilled coquetting of the Government +Has nearly won you from old fellowship! . . . +Well; till to-morrow, marshal, then Adieu. + + [Ney goes. Enter CAULAINCOURT and MACDONALD.] + +Ney has got here before you; and, I deem, +Has truly told me all? + + +CAULAINCOURT + + We thought at first +We should have had success. But fate said No; +And abdication, making no reserves, +Is, sire, we are convinced, with all respect, +The only road, if you care not to risk +The Empress; loss of every dignity, +And magnified misfortunes thrown on France. + + +NAPOLEON + +I have heard it all; and don't agree with you. +My assets are not quite so beggarly +That I must close in such a shameful bond! +What--do you rate as naught that I am yet +Full fifty thousand strong, with Augereau, +And Soult, and Suchet true, and many more? +I still may know to play the Imperial game +As well as Alexander and his friends! +So--you will see. Where are my maps?--eh, where? +I'll trace campaigns to come! Where's my paper, ink, +To schedule all my generals and my means! + + +CAULAINCOURT + +Sire, you have not the generals you suppose. + + +MACDONALD + +And if you had, the mere anatomy +Of a real army, sire, that's left to you, +Must yield the war. A bad example tells. + + +NAPOLEON + +Ah--from your manner it is worse, I see, +Than I cognize! . . . O Marmont, Marmont,--yours, +Yours was the bad sad lead!--I treated him +As if he were a son!--defended him, +Made him a marshal out of sheer affection, +Built, as 'twere rock, on his fidelity! +"Forsake who may," I said, "I still have him." +Child that I was, I looked for faith in friends! . . . + +Then be it as you will. Ney's manner shows +That even he inclines to Bourbonry.-- +I faint to leave France thus--curtailed, pared down +From her late spacious borders. Of the whole +This is the keenest sword that pierces me. . . . +But all's too late: my course is closed, I see. +I'll do it--now. Call in Bertrand and Ney; +Let them be witness to my finishing! + + [In much agitation he goes to the writing-table and begins drawing + up a paper. BERTRAND and NEY enter; and behind them are seen + through the doorway the faces of CONSTANT the valet, ROUSTAN the + Mameluke, and other servants. All wait in silence till the EMPEROR + has done writing. He turns in his seat without looking up.] + + +NAPOLEON (reading) + +"It having been declared by the Allies +That the prime obstacle to Europe's peace +Is France's empery by Napoleon, +This ruler, faithful to his oath of old, +Renounces for himself and for his heirs +The throne of France and that of Italy; +Because no sacrifice, even of his life, +Is he averse to make for France's gain." +--And hereto do I sign. (He turns to the table and signs.) + + [The marshals, moved, rush forward and seize his hand.] + + Mark, marshals, here; +It is a conquering foe I covenant with, +And not the traitors at the Tuileries +Who call themselves the Government of France! +Caulaincourt, go to Paris as before, +Ney and Macdonald too, and hand in this +To Alexander, and to him alone. + + [He gives the document, and bids them adieu almost without speech. + The marshals and others go out. NAPOLEON continues sitting with + his chin on his chest. + + An interval of silence. There is then heard in the corridor a + sound of whetting. Enter ROUSTAN the Mameluke, with a whetstone + in his belt and a sword in his hand.] + + +ROUSTAN + +After this fall, your Majesty, 'tis plain +You will not choose to live; and knowing this +I bring to you my sword. + + +NAPOLEON (with a nod) + + I see you do, Roustan. + + +ROUSTAN + + Will you, sire, use it on yourself, +Or shall I pass it through you? + + +NAPOLEON (coldly) + + Neither plan +Is quite expedient for the moment, man. + + +ROUSTAN + +Neither? + + +NAPOLEON + + There may be, in some suited time, +Some cleaner means of carrying out such work. + + +ROUSTAN + +Sire, you refuse? Can you support vile life +A moment on such terms? Why then, I pray, +Dispatch me with the weapon, or dismiss me. +(He holds the sword to NAPOLEON, who shakes his head.) +I live no longer under such disgrace! + + [Exit ROUSTAN haughtily. NAPOLEON vents a sardonic laugh, and + throws himself on a sofa, where he by and by falls asleep. The + door is softly opened. ROUSTAN and CONSTANT peep in.] + + +CONSTANT + +To-night would be as good a time to go as any. He will sleep there +for hours. I have my few francs safe, and I deserve them; for I have +stuck to him honourably through fourteen trying years. + + +ROUSTAN + +How many francs have you secured? + + +CONSTANT + +Well--more than you can count in one breath, or even two. + + +ROUSTAN + +Where? + + +CONSTANT + +In a hollow tree in the Forest. And as for YOUR reward, you can +easily get the keys of that cabinet, where there are more than +enough francs to equal mine. He will not have them, and you may +as well take them as strangers. + + +ROUSTAN + +It is not money that I want, but honour. I leave, because I can +no longer stay with self-respect. + + +CONSTANT + +And I because there is no other such valet in the temperate zone, +and it is for the good of society that I should not be wasted here. + + +ROUSTAN + +Well, as you propose going this evening I will go with you, to lend +a symmetry to the drama of our departure. Would that I had served +a more sensitive master! He sleeps there quite indifferent to the +dishonour of remaining alive! + + [NAPOLEON shows signs of waking. CONSTANT and ROUSTAN disappear. + NAPOLEON slowly sits up.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Here the scene lingers still! Here linger I! . . . +Things could not have gone on as they were going; +I am amazed they kept their course so long. +But long or short they have ended now--at last! +(Footsteps are heard passing through the court without.) +Hark at them leaving me! So politic rats +Desert the ship that's doomed. By morrow-dawn +I shall not have a man to shake my bed +Or say good-morning to! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Herein behold + How heavily grinds the Will upon his brain, + His halting hand, and his unlighted eye. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + A picture this for kings and subjects too! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Yet is it but Napoleon who has failed. + The pale pathetic peoples still plod on + Through hoodwinkings to light! + + +NAPOLEON (rousing himself) + + This now must close. +Roustan misunderstood me, though his hint +Serves as a fillip to a flaccid brain. . . . +--How gild the sunset sky of majesty +Better than by the act esteemed of yore? +Plutarchian heroes outstayed not their fame, +And what nor Brutus nor Themistocles +Nor Cato nor Mark Antony survived, +Why, why should I? Sage Canabis, you primed me! + + [He unlocks a case, takes out a little bag containing a phial, pours + from it a liquid into a glass, and drinks. He then lies down and + falls asleep again. + + Re-enter CONSTANT softly with a bunch of keys in his hand. On + his way to the cabinet he turns and looks at NAPOLEON. Seeing + the glass and a strangeness in the EMPEROR, he abandons his + object, rushes out, and is heard calling. + + Enter MARET and BERTRAND.] + + +BERTRAND (shaking the Emperor) + +What is the matter, sire? What's this you've done? + + +NAPOLEON (with difficulty) + +Why did you interfere!--But it is well; +Call Caulaincourt. I'd speak with him a trice +Before I pass. + + [MARET hurries out. Enter IVAN the physician, and presently + CAULAINCOURT.] + + Ivan, renew this dose; +'Tis a slow workman, and requires a fellow; +Age has impaired its early promptitude. + + [Ivan shakes his head and rushes away distracted. CAULAINCOURT + seizes NAPOLEON'S hand.] + + +CAULAINCOURT + +Why should you bring this cloud upon us now! + + +NAPOLEON + +Restrain your feelings. Let me die in peace.-- +My wife and son I recommend to you; +Give her this letter, and the packet there. +Defend my memory, and protect their lives. + (They shake him. He vomits.) + + +CAULAINCOURT + +He's saved--for good or ill-as may betide! + + +NAPOLEON + +God--here how difficult it is to die: +How easy on the passionate battle-plain! + + [They open a window and carry him to it. He mends.] + +Fate has resolved what man could not resolve. +I must live on, and wait what Heaven may send! + + [MACDONALD and other marshals re-enter. A letter is brought from + MARIE LOUISE. NAPOLEON reads it, and becomes more animated. + +They are well; and they will join me in my exile. +Yes: I will live! The future who shall spell? +My wife, my son, will be enough for me.-- +And I will give my hours to chronicling +In stately words that stir futurity +The might of our unmatched accomplishments; +And in the tale immortalize your names +By linking them with mine. + + [He soon falls into a convalescent sleep. The marshals, etc. go + out. The room is left in darkness.] + + + +SCENE V + +BAYONNE. THE BRITISH CAMP + + [The foreground is an elevated stretch of land, dotted over in rows + with the tents of the peninsular army. On a parade immediately + beyond the tents the infantry are drawn up, awaiting something. + Still farther back, behind a brook, are the French soldiery, also + ranked in the same manner of reposeful expectation. In the middle- + distance we see the town of Bayonne, standing within its zigzag + fortifications at the junction of the river Adour with the Nive. + + On the other side of the Adour rises the citadel, a fortified + angular structure standing detached. A large and brilliant + tricolor flag is waving indolently from a staff on the summit. + The Bay of Biscay, into which the Adour flows, is seen on the + left horizon as a level line. + + The stillness observed by the soldiery of both armies, and by + everything else in the scene except the flag, is at last broken + by the firing of a signal-gun from a battery in the town-wall. + The eyes of the thousands present rivet themselves on the citadel. + Its waving tricolor moves down the flagstaff and disappears.] + + +THE REGIMENTS (unconsciously) + +Ha-a-a-a! + + [In a few seconds there shoots up the same staff another flag--one + intended to be white; but having apparently been folded away a long + time, it is mildewed and dingy. + + From all the guns on the city fortifications a salute peals out. + This is responded to by the English infantry and artillery with a + feu-de-joie.] + + +THE REGIMENTS + +Hurrah-h-h-h! + + [The various battalions are then marched away in their respective + directions and dismissed to their tents. The Bourbon standard is + hoisted everywhere beside those of England, Spain, and Portugal. + The scene shuts.] + + + +SCENE VI + +A HIGHWAY IN THE OUTSKIRTS OF AVIGNON + + [The Rhone, the old city walls, the Rocher des Doms and its + edifices, appear at the back plane of the scene under the + grey light of dawn. In the foreground several postillions + and ostlers with relays of horses are waiting by the roadside, + gazing northward and listening for sounds. A few loungers + have assembled.] + + +FIRST POSTILLION + +He ought to be nigh by this time. I should say he'd be very glad +to get this here Isle of Elba, wherever it may be, if words be true +that he's treated to such ghastly compliments on's way! + + +SECOND POSTILLION + +Blast-me-blue, I don't care what happens to him! Look at Joachim +Murat, him that's made King of Naples; a man who was only in the +same line of life as ourselves, born and bred in Cahors, out in +Perigord, a poor little whindling place not half as good as our +own. Why should he have been lifted up to king's anointment, and +we not even have had a rise in wages? That's what I say. + + +FIRST POSTILLION + +But now, I don't find fault with that dispensation in particular. +It was one of our calling that the Emperor so honoured, after all, +when he might have anointed a tinker, or a ragman, or a street +woman's pensioner even. Who knows but that we should have been +king's too, but for my crooked legs and your running pole-wound? + + +SECOND POSTILLION + +We kings? Kings of the underground country, then, by this time, if +we hadn't been too rotten-fleshed to follow the drum. However, I'll +think over your defence, and I don't mind riding a stage with him, +for that matter, to save him from them that mean mischief here. +I've lost no sons by his battles, like some others we know. + + [Enter a TRAVELLER on horseback.] + +Any tidings along the road, sir of the Emperor Napoleon that was? + + +TRAVELLER + +Tidings verily! He and his escort are threatened by the mob at +every place they come to. A returning courier I have met tells me +that at an inn a little way beyond here they have strung up his +effigy to the sign-post, smeared it with blood, and placarded it +"The Doom that awaits Thee!" He is much delayed by such humorous +insults. I have hastened ahead to escape the uproar. + + +SECOND POSTILLION + +I don't know that you have escaped it. The mob has been waiting +up all night for him here. + + +MARKET-WOMAN (coming up) + +I hope by the Virgin, as 'a called herself, that there'll be no +riots here! Though I have not much pity for a man who could treat +his wife as he did, and that's my real feeling. He might at least +have kept them both on, for half a husband is better than none for +poor women. But I'd show mercy to him, that's true, rather than +have my stall upset, and messes in the streets wi' folks' brains, +and stabbings, and I don't know what all! + + +FIRST POSTILLION + +If we can do the horsing quietly out here, there will be none of +that. He'll dash past the town without stopping at the inn where +they expect to waylay him.--Hark, what's this coming? + + [An approaching cortege is heard. Two couriers enter; then a + carriage with NAPOLEON and BERTRAND; then others with the + Commissioners of the Powers,--all on the way to Elba. + + The carriages halt, and the change of horses is set about instantly. + But before it is half completed BONAPARTE'S arrival gets known, and + throngs of men and women armed with sticks and hammers rush out of + Avignon and surround the carriages.] + + +POPULACE + +Ogre of Corsica! Odious tyrant! Down with Nicholas! + + +BERTRAND (looking out of carriage) + +Silence, and doff your hats, you ill-mannered devils! + + +POPULACE (scornfully) + +Listen to him! Is that the Corsican? No; where is he? Give him up; +give him up! We'll pitch him into the Rhone! + + [Some cling to the wheels of NAPOLEON'S carriage, while others, + more distant, throw stones at it. A stone breaks the carriage + window.] + + +OLD WOMAN (shaking her fist) + +Give me back my two sons, murderer! Give me back my children, whose +flesh is rotting on the Russian plains! + + +POPULACE + +Ay; give us back our kin--our fathers, our brothers, our sons-- +victims to your curst ambition! + + [One of the mob seizes the carriage door-handle and tries to + unfasten it. A valet of BONAPARTE'S seated on the box draws his + sword and threatens to cut the man's arm off. The doors of the + Commissioners' coaches open, and SIR NEIL CAMPBELL, GENERAL + KOLLER, and COUNT SCHUVALOFF--The English, Austrian, and Russian + Commissioners--jump out and come forward.] + + +CAMPBELL + +Keep order, citizens! Do you not know +That the ex-Emperor is wayfaring +To a lone isle, in the Allies' sworn care, +Who have given a pledge to Europe for his safety? +His fangs being drawn, he is left powerless now +To do you further harm. + + +SCHUVALOFF + + People of France +Can you insult so miserable a being? +He who gave laws to a cowed world stands now +At that world's beck, and asks its charity. +Cannot you see that merely to ignore him +Is the worst ignominy to tar him with, +By showing him he's no longer dangerous? + + +OLD WOMAN + +How do we know the villain mayn't come back? +While there is life, my faith, there's mischief in him! + + [Enter an officer with the Town-guard.] + + +OFFICER + +Citizens, I am a zealot for the Bourbons, +As you well know. But wanton breach of faith +I will not brook. Retire! + + [The soldiers drive back the mob and open a passage forward. The + Commissioners re-enter their carriages. NAPOLEON puts his head + out of his window for a moment. He is haggard, shabbily dressed, + yellow-faced, and wild-eyed.] + + +NAPOLEON + + I thank you, captain; +Also your soldiery: a thousand thanks! +(To Bertrand within) My God, these people of Avignon here +Are headstrong fools, like all the Provencal fold, +--I won't go through the town! + + +BERTRAND + + We'll round it, sire; +And then, as soon as we get past the place, +You must disguise for the remainder miles. + + +NAPOLEON + +I'll mount the white cockade if they invite me! +What does it matter if I do or don't? +In Europe all is past and over with me. . . . +Yes--all is lost in Europe for me now! + + +BERTRAND + +I fear so, sire. + + +NAPOLEON (after some moments) + + But Asia waits a man, +And--who can tell? + + +OFFICER OF GUARD (to postillions) + + Ahead now at full speed, +And slacken not till you have slipped the town. + + [The postillions urge the horses to a gallop, and the carriages + are out of sight in a few seconds. The scene shuts.] + + + +SCENE VII + +MALMAISON. THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE'S BEDCHAMBER + + [The walls are in white panels, with gilt mouldings, and the + furniture is upholstered in white silk with needle-worked flowers. + The long windows and the bed are similarly draped, and the toilet + service is of gold. Through the panes appears a broad flat lawn + adorned with vases and figures on pedestals, and entirely + surrounded by trees--just now in their first fresh green under + the morning rays of Whitsunday. The notes of an organ are audible + from a chapel below, where the Pentecostal Mass is proceeding. + + JOSEPHINE lies in the bed in an advanced stage of illness, the + ABBE BERTRAND standing beside her. Two ladies-in-waiting are + seated near. By the door into the ante-room, which is ajar, + HOREAU the physician-in-ordinary and BOURDOIS the consulting + physician are engaged in a low conversation.] + + +HOREAU + +Lamoureux says that leeches would have saved her +Had they been used in time, before I came. +In that case, then, why did he wait for me? + + +BOURDOIS + +Such whys are now too late! She is past all hope. +I doubt if aught had helped her. Not disease, +But heart-break and repinings are the blasts +That wither her long bloom. Soon we must tell +The Queen Hortense the worst, and the Viceroy. + + +HOREAU + +Her death was made the easier task for grief +(As I regarded more than probable) +By her rash rising from a sore-sick bed +And donning thin and dainty May attire +To hail King Frederick-William and the Tsar +As banquet-guests, in the old regnant style. +A woman's innocent vanity!--but how dire. +She argued that amenities of State +Compelled the effort, since they had honoured her +By offering to come. I stood against it, +Pleaded and reasoned, but to no account. +Poor woman, what she did or did not do +Was of small moment to the State by then! +The Emperor Alexander has been kind +Throughout his stay in Paris. He came down +But yester-eve, of purpose to inquire. + + +BOURDOIS + +Wellington is in Paris, too, I learn, +After his wasted battle at Toulouse. + + +HOREAU + +Has his Peninsular army come with him? + + +BOURDOIS + +I hear they have shipped it to America, +Where England has another war on hand. +We have armies quite sufficient here already-- +Plenty of cooks for Paris broth just now! +--Come, call we Queen Hortense and Prince Eugene. + + [Exeunt physicians. The ABBE BERTRAND also goes out. JOSEPHINE + murmurs faintly.] + + +FIRST LADY (going to the bedside) + +I think I heard you speak, your Majesty? + + +JOSEPHINE + +I asked what hour it was---if dawn or eve? + + +FIRST LADY + +Ten in the morning, Madame. You forget +You asked the same but a brief while ago. + + +JOSEPHINE + +Did I? I thought it was so long ago! . . . +I wish to go to Elba with him so much, +But the Allies prevented me. And why? +I would not have disgraced him, or themselves! +I would have gone to him at Fontainebleau, +With my eight horses and my household train +In dignity, and quitted him no more. . . . +Although I am his wife no longer now, +I think I should have gone in spite of them, +Had I not feared perversions might be sown +Between him and the woman of his choice +For whom he sacrificed me. + + +SECOND LADY + + It is more +Than she thought fit to do, your Majesty. + + +JOSEPHINE + +Perhaps she was influenced by her father's ire, +Or diplomatic reasons told against her. +And yet I was surprised she should allow +Aught secondary on earth to hold her from +A husband she has outwardly, at least, +Declared attachment to. + + +FIRST LADY + + Especially, +With ever one at hand--his son and hers-- +Reminding her of him. + + +JOSEPHINE + + Yes. . . . Glad am I +I saw that child of theirs, though only once. +But--there was not full truth--not quite, I fear-- +In what I told the Emperor that day +He led him to me at Bagatelle, +That 'twas the happiest moment of my life. +I ought not to have said it. No! Forsooth +My feeling had too, too much gall in it +To let truth shape like that!--I also said +That when my arms were round him I forgot +That I was not his mother. So spoke I, +But oh me,--I remembered it too well!-- +He was a lovely child; in his fond prate +His father's voice was eloquent. One might say +I am well punished for my sins against him! + + +SECOND LADY + +You have harmed no creature, madame; much less him! + + +JOSEPHINE + +O but you don't quite know! . . . My coquetries +In our first married years nigh racked him through. +I cannot think how I could wax so wicked! . . . +He begged me come to him in Italy, +But I liked flirting in fair Paris best, +And would not go. The independent spouse +At that time was myself; but afterwards +I grew to be the captive, he the free. +Always 'tis so: the man wins finally! +My faults I've ransomed to the bottom sou +If ever a woman did! . . . I'll write to him-- +I must--again, so that he understands. +Yes, I'll write now. Get me a pen and paper. + + +FIRST LADY (to Second Lady) + +'Tis futile! She is too far gone to write; +But we must humour her. + + [They fetch writing materials. On returning to the bed they find + her motionless. Enter EUGENE and QUEEN HORTENSE. Seeing the state + their mother is in, they fall down on their knees by her bed. + JOSEPHINE recognizes them and smiles. Anon she is able to speak + again.] + + +JOSEPHINE (faintly) + + I am dying, dears; +And do not mind it--notwithstanding that +I feel I die regretted. You both love me!-- +And as for France, I ever have desired +Her welfare, as you know--have wrought all things +A woman's scope could reach to forward it. . . . +And to you now who watch my ebbing here, +Declare I that Napoleon's first-chose wife +Has never caused her land a needless tear. +Tell him--these things I have said--bear him my love-- +Tell him--I could not write! + + [An interval. She spasmodically flings her arms over her son and + daughter, lets them fall, and becomes unconscious. They fetch a + looking-glass, and find that her breathing has ceased. The clock + of the Chateau strikes noon. The scene is veiled.] + + + +SCENE VIII + +LONDON. THE OPERA HOUSE + + [The house is lighted up with a blaze of wax candles, and a State + performance is about to begin in honour of the Allied sovereigns + now on a visit to England to celebrate the Peace. Peace-devices + adorn the theatre. A band can be heard in the street playing + "The White Cockade." + + An extended Royal box has been formed by removing the partitions + of adjoining boxes. It is empty as yet, but the other parts of + the house are crowded to excess, and somewhat disorderly, the + interior doors having been broken down by besiegers, and many + people having obtained admission without payment. The prevalent + costume of the ladies is white satin and diamonds, with a few in + lilac. + + The curtain rises on the first act of the opera of "Aristodemo," + MADAME GRASSINI and SIGNOR TRAMEZZINI being the leading voices. + Scarcely a note of the performance can be heard amid the exclamations + of persons half suffocated by the pressure. + + At the end of the first act there follows a divertissement. The + curtain having fallen, a silence of expectation succeeds. It is + a little past ten o'clock. + + Enter the Royal box the PRINCE REGENT, accompanied by the EMPEROR + OF RUSSIA, demonstrative in manner now as always, the KING OF + PRUSSIA, with his mien of reserve, and many minor ROYAL PERSONAGES + of Europe. There are moderate acclamations. At their back and in + neighbouring boxes LORD LIVERPOOL, LORD CASTLEREAGH, officers in + the suite of the sovereigns, interpreters, and others take their + places. + + The curtain rises again, and the performers are discovered drawn + up in line on the stage. They sing "God save the King." The + sovereigns stand up, bow, and resume their seats amid more + applause.] + + +A VOICE (from the gallery) + +Prinny, where's your wife? (Confusion.) + + +EMPEROR OF RUSSIA (to Regent) + +To which of us is the inquiry addressed, Prince? + + +PRINCE REGENT + +To you, sire, depend upon't--by way of compliment. + + [The second act of the Opera proceeds.] + + +EMPEROR OF RUSSIA + +Any later news from Elba, sir? + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Nothing more than rumours, which, 'pon my honour, I can hardly +credit. One is that Bonaparte's valet has written to say the +ex-Emperor is becoming imbecile, and is an object of ridicule to +the inhabitants of the island. + + +KING OF PRUSSIA + +A blessed result, sir, if true. If he is not imbecile he is worse +--planning how to involve Europe in another way. It was a short- +sighted policy to offer him a home so near as to ensure its becoming +a hot-bed of intrigue and conspiracy in no long time! + + +PRINCE REGENT + +The ex-Empress, Marie-Louise, hasn't joined him after all, I learn. +Has she remained at Schonbrunn since leaving France, sires? + + +EMPEROR OF RUSSIA + +Yes, sir; with her son. She must never go back to France. Metternich +and her father will know better than let her do that. Poor young +thing, I am sorry for her all the same. She would have joined +Napoleon if she had been left to herself.--And I was sorry for the +other wife, too. I called at Malmaison a few days before she died. +A charming woman! SHE would have gone to Elba or to the devil with +him. Twenty thousand people crowded down from Paris to see her lying +in state last week. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Pity she didn't have a child by him, by God. + + +KING OF PRUSSIA + +I don't think the other one's child is going to trouble us much. +But I wish Bonaparte himself had been sent farther away. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Some of our Government wanted to pack him off to St. Helena--an +island somewhere in the Atlantic, or Pacific, or Great South Sea. +But they were over-ruled. 'Twould have been a surer game. + + +EMPEROR OF RUSSIA + +One hears strange stories of his saying and doings. Some of my +people were telling me to-day that he says it is to Austria that +he really owes his fall, and that he ought to have destroyed her +when he had her in his power. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Dammy, sire, don't ye think he owes his fall to his ambition to +humble England by rupture of the Peace of Amiens, and trying to +invade us, and wasting his strength against us in the Peninsula? + + +EMPEROR OF RUSSIA + +I incline to think, with the greatest deference, that it was Moscow +that broke him. + + +KING OF PRUSSIA + +The rejection of my conditions in the terms of peace at Prague, sires, +was the turning-point towards his downfall. + + [Enter a box on the opposite side of the house the PRINCESS OF + WALES, attended by LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL, SIR W. GELL, and + others. Louder applause now rings through the theatre, drowning + the sweet voice of the GRASSINI in "Aristodemo."] + + +LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL + +It is meant for your Royal Highness! + + +PRINCESS OF WALES + +I don't think so, my dear. Punch's wife is nobody when Punch himself +is present. + + +LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL + +I feel convinced that it is by their looking this way. + + +SIR W. GELL + +Surely ma'am you will acknowledge their affection? Otherwise we may +be hissed. + + +PRINCESS OF WALES + +I know my business better than to take that morsel out of my husband's +mouth. There--you see he enjoys it! I cannot assume that it is +meant for me unless they call my name. + + [The PRINCE REGENT rises and bows, the TSAR and the KING OF PRUSSIA + doing the same.] + + +LADY CHARLOTTE CAMPBELL + +He and the others are bowing for you, ma'am! + + +PRINCESS OF WALES + +Mine God, then; I will bow too! (She rises and bends to them.) + + +PRINCE REGENT + +She thinks we rose on her account.--A damn fool. (Aside.) + + +EMPEROR OF RUSSIA + +What--didn't we? I certainly rose in homage to her. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +No, sire. We were supposed to rise to the repeated applause of the +people. + + +EMPEROR OF RUSSIA + +H'm. Your customs sir, are a little puzzling. . . . (To the King of +Prussia.) A fine-looking woman! I must call upon the Princess of +Wales to-morrow. + + +KING OF PRUSSIA + +I shall, at any rate, send her my respects by my chamberlain. + + +PRINCE REGENT (stepping back to Lord Liverpool) + +By God, Liverpool, we must do something to stop 'em! They don't +know what a laughing-stock they'll make of me if they go to her. +Tell 'em they had better not. + + +LIVERPOOL + +I can hardly tell them now, sir, while we are celebrating the Peace +and Wellington's victories. + + +PRINCE REGENT + +Oh, damn the peace, and damn the war, and damn Boney, and damn +Wellington's victories!--the question is, how am I to get over this +infernal woman!--Well, well,--I must write, or send Tyrwhitt to- +morrow morning, begging them to abandon the idea of visiting her +for politic reasons. + + [The Opera proceeds to the end, and is followed by a hymn and + chorus laudatory to peace. Next a new ballet by MONSIEUR VESTRIS, + in which M. ROZIER and MADAME ANGIOLINI dance a pas-de-deux. Then + the Sovereigns leave the theatre amid more applause. + + The pit and gallery now call for the PRINCESS OF WALES unmistakably. + She stand up and is warmly acclaimed, returning three stately + curtseys.] + + +A VOICE + +Shall we burn down Carlton House, my dear, and him in it? + + +PRINCESS OF WALES + +No, my good folks! Be quiet. Go home to your beds, and let me do +the same. + + [After some difficulty she gets out of the house. The people thin + away. As the candle-snuffers extinguish the lights a shouting is + heard without.] + + +VOICES OF CROWD + +Long life to the Princess of Wales! Three cheers for a woman wronged! + + [The Opera-house becomes lost in darkness.] + + + + +ACT FIFTH + + +SCENE I + +ELBA. THE QUAY, PORTO FERRAJO + + [Night descends upon a beautiful blue cove, enclosed on three sides + by mountains. The port lies towards the western (right-hand) horn + of the concave, behind it being the buildings of the town; their + long white walls and rows of windows rise tier above tier on the + steep incline at the back, and are intersected by narrow alleys + and flights of steps that lead up to forts on the summit. + + Upon a rock between two of these forts stands the Palace of the + Mulini, NAPOLEONS'S residence in Ferrajo. Its windows command + the whole town and the port.] + + +CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + The Congress of Vienna sits, + And war becomes a war of wits, + Where every Power perpends withal + Its dues as large, its friends' as small; + Till Priests of Peace prepare once more + To fight as they have fought before! + + In Paris there is discontent; + Medals are wrought that represent + One now unnamed. Men whisper, "He + Who once has been, again will be!" + + +DUMB SHOW + +Under cover of the dusk there assembles in the bay a small flotilla +comprising a brig called _l'Inconstant_ and several lesser vessels. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + The guardian on behalf of the Allies + Absents himself from Elba. Slow surmise + Too vague to pen, too actual to ignore, + Have strained him hour by hour, and more and more. + He takes the sea to Florence, to declare + His doubts to Austria's ministrator there. + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + When he returns, Napoleon will be--where? + + +Boats put off from these ships to the quay, where are now discovered +to have silently gathered a body of grenadiers of the Old Guard. The +faces of DROUOT and CAMBRONNE are revealed by the occasional fleck of +a lantern to be in command of them. They are quietly taken aboard +the brig, and a number of men of different arms to the other vessels. + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + Napoleon is going, + And nought will prevent him; + He snatches the moment + Occasion has lent him! + + And what is he going for, + Worn with war's labours? + --To reconquer Europe + With seven hundred sabres. + + +About eight o'clock we observe that the windows of the Palace of +the Mulini are lighted and open, and that two women sit at them: +the EMPEROR'S mother and the PRINCESS PAULINE. They wave adieux +to some one below, and in a short time a little open low-wheeled +carriage, drawn by the PRINCESS PAULINE'S two ponies, descends +from the house to the port. The crowd exclaims "The Emperor!" +NAPOLEON appears in his grey great-coat, and is much fatter than +when he left France. BERTRAND sits beside him. + +He quickly alights and enters the waiting boat. It is a tense +moment. As the boat rows off the sailors sing the Marseillaise, +and the gathered inhabitants join in. When the boat reaches the +brig its sailors join in also, and shout "Paris or death!" Yet +the singing has a melancholy cadence. A gun fires as a signal +of departure. The night is warm and balmy for the season. Not +a breeze is there to stir a sail, and the ships are motionless. + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS + + Haste is salvation; + And still he stays waiting: + The calm plays the tyrant, + His venture belating! + + Should the corvette return + With the anxious Scotch colonel, + Escape would be frustrate, + Retention eternal. + + +Four aching hours are spent thus. NAPOLEON remains silent on the +deck, looking at the town lights, whose reflections bore like augers +into the water of the bay. The sails hang flaccidly. Then a feeble +breeze, then a strong south wind, begins to belly the sails; and the +vessels move. + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS + + The south wind, the south wind, + The south wind will save him, + Embaying the frigate + Whose speed would enslave him; + Restoring the Empire + That fortune once gave him! + + +The moon rises and the ships silently disappear over the horizon +as it mounts higher into the sky. + + + +SCENE II + +VIENNA. THE IMPERIAL PALACE + + [The fore-part of the scene is the interior of a dimly lit gallery + with an openwork screen or grille on one side of it that commands + a bird's-eye view of the grand saloon below. At present the screen + is curtained. Sounds of music and applause in the saloon ascend + into the gallery, and an irradiation from the same quarter shines + up through chinks in the curtains of the grille. + + Enter the gallery MARIE LOUISE and the COUNTESS OF BRIGNOLE, + followed by the COUNT NEIPPERG, a handsome man of forty two with + a bandage over one eye.] + + +COUNTESS OF BRIGNOLE + +Listen, your Majesty. You gather all +As well as if you moved amid them there, +And are advantaged with free scope to flit +The moment the scene palls. + + +MARIE LOUISE + + Ah, my dear friend, +To put it so is flower-sweet of you; +But a fallen Empress, doomed to furtive peeps +At scenes her open presence would unhinge, +Reads not much interest in them! Yet, in truth, +'Twas gracious of my father to arrange +This glimpse-hole for my curiosity. +--But I must write a letter ere I look; +You can amuse yourself with watching them.-- +Count, bring me pen and paper. I am told +Madame de Montesquiou has been distressed +By some alarm; I write to ask its shape. + + [NEIPPERG spreads writing materials on a table, and MARIE LOUISE + sits. While she writes he stays near her. MADAME DE BRIGNOLE + goes to the screen and parts the curtains. + + The light of a thousand candles blazes up into her eyes from + below. The great hall is decorated in white and silver, enriched + by evergreens and flowers. At the end a stage is arranged, and + Tableaux Vivants are in progress thereon, representing the history + of the House of Austria, in which figure the most charming women + of the Court. + + There are present as spectators nearly all the notables who have + assembled for the Congress, including the EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA + himself, has gay wife, who quite eclipses him, the EMPEROR + ALEXANDER, the KING OF PRUSSIA--still in the mourning he has + never abandoned since the death of QUEEN LUISA,--the KING + OF BAVARIA and his son, METTERNICH, TALLEYRAND, WELLINGTON, + NESSELRODE, HARDENBERG; and minor princes, ministers, and + officials of all nations.] + + +COUNTESS OF BRIGNOLE (suddenly from he grille) + +Something has happened--so it seems, madame! +The Tableau gains no heed from them, and all +Turn murmuring together. + + +MARIE LOUISE + + What may be? + + [She rises with languid curiosity, and COUNT NEIPPERG adroitly + takes her hand and leads her forward. All three look down through + the grille.] + + +NEIPPERG + +some strange news, certainly, your Majesty, +Is being discussed.--I'll run down and inquire. + + +MARIE LOUISE (playfully) + +Nay--stay here. We shall learn soon enough. + + +NEIPPERG + +Look at their faces now. Count Metternich +Stares at Prince Talleyrand--no muscle moving. +The King of Prussia blinks bewilderedly +Upon Lord Wellington. + + +MARIE LOUISE (concerned) + + Yes; so it seems. . . . +They are thunderstruck. See, though the music beats, +The ladies of the Tableau leave their place, +And mingle with the rest, and quite forget +That they are in masquerade. The sovereigns show +By far the gravest mien. . . . I wonder, now, +If it has aught to do with me or mine? +Disasters mostly have to do with me! + + +COUNTESS OF BRIGNOLE + +Those rude diplomists from England there, +At your Imperial father's consternation, +And Russia's, and the King of Prussia's gloom, +Shake shoulders with hid laughter! That they call +The English sense of humour, I infer,-- +To see a jest in other people's troubles! + + +MARIE LOUISE (hiding her presages) + +They ever take things thus phlegmatically: +The safe sea minimizes Continental scare +In their regard. I wish it did in mine! +But Wellington laughs not, as I discern. + + +NEIPPERG + +Perhaps, though fun for the other English here, +It means new work for him. Ah--notice now +The music makes no more pretence to play! +Sovereigns and ministers have moved apart, +And talk, and leave the ladies quite aloof-- +Even the Grand Duchesses and Empress, all-- +Such mighty cogitations trance their minds! + + +MARIE LOUISE (with more anxiety) + +Poor ladies; yea, they draw into the rear, +And whisper ominous words among themselves! +Count Neipperg--I must ask you now--go glean +What evil lowers. I am riddled through +With strange surmises and more strange alarms! + + [The COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU enters.] + +Ah--we shall learn it now. Well--what, madame? + + +COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU (breathlessly) + +Your Majesty, the Emperor Napoleon +Has vanished from Elba! Wither flown, +And how, and why, nobody says or knows. + + +MARIE LOUISE (sinking into a chair) + +My divination pencilled on my brain +Something not unlike that! The rigid mien +That mastered Wellington suggested it. . . . +Complicity will be ascribed to me, +Unwitting though I stand! . . . (A pause.) + He'll not succeed! +And my fair plans for Parma will be marred, +And my son's future fouled!--I must go hence, +And instantly declare to Metternich +That I know nought of this; and in his hands +Place me unquestioningly, with dumb assent +To serve the Allies. . . . Methinks that I was born +Under an evil-coloured star, whose ray +Darts death at joys!--Take me away, Count.--You (to the ladies) +Can stay and see the end. + + [Exeunt MARIE LOUISE and NEIPPERG. MESDAMES DE MONTESQUIOU and + DE BRIGNOLE go to the grille and watch and listen.] + + +VOICE OF ALEXANDER (below) + +I told you, Prince, that it would never last! + + +VOICE OF TALLEYRAND + +Well, sire, you should have sent him to the Azores, +Or the Antilles, or best, Saint-Helena. + + +VOICE OF THE KING OF PRUSSIA + +Instead, we send him but two days from France, +Give him an island as his own domain, +A military guard of large resource, +And millions for his purse! + + +ANOTHER VOICE + + The immediate cause +Must be a negligence in watching him. +The British Colonel Campbell should have seen +That apertures for flight were wired and barred +To such a cunning bird! + + +ANOTHER VOICE + + By all report +He took the course direct to Naples Bay. + + +VOICES (of new arrivals) + +He has made his way to France--so all tongues tell-- +And landed there, at Cannes! (Excitement.) + + +COUNTESS OF BRIGNOLE + + Do now but note +How cordial intercourse resolves itself +To sparks of sharp debate! The lesser guests +Are fain to steal unnoticed from a scene +Wherein they feel themselves as surplusage +Beside the official minds.--I catch a sign +The King of Prussia makes the English Duke; +They leave the room together. + + +COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU + + Yes; wit wanes, +And all are going--Prince Talleyrand, +The Emperor Alexander, Metternich, +The Emperor Francis. . . . So much for the Congress! +Only a few blank nobodies remain, +And they seem terror-stricken. . . . Blackly ends +Such fair festivities. The red god War +Stalks Europe's plains anew! + + [The curtain of the grille is dropped. MESDAMES DE MONTESQUIOU + and DE BRIGNOLE leave the gallery. The light is extinguished + there and the scene disappears.] + + + +SCENE III + +LA MURE, NEAR GRENOBLE + + [A lonely road between a lake and some hills, two or three miles + outside the village of la Mure, is discovered. A battalion of + the Fifth French royalist regiment of the line under COMMANDANT + LESSARD, is drawn up in the middle of the road with a company of + sappers and miners, comprising altogether about eight hundred men. + + Enter to them from the south a small detachment of lancers with + an aide-de-camp at their head. They ride up to within speaking + distance.] + + +LESSARD + +They are from Bonaparte. Present your arms! + + +AIDE (calling) + +We'd parley on Napoleon's behalf, +And fain would ask you join him. + + +LESSARD + + Al parole +With rebel bands the Government forbids. +Come five steps further and we fire! + + +AIDE + + To France, +And to posterity through fineless time, +Must you then answer for so foul a blow +Against the common weal! + + [NAPOLEON'S aide-de-camp and the lancers turn about and ride + back out of sight. The royalist troops wait. Presently there + reappears from the same direction a small column of soldiery, + representing the whole of NAPOLEON'S little army shipped from + Elba. It is divided into an advance-guard under COLONEL MALLET, + and two bodies behind, a troop of Polish lancers under COLONEL + JERMANWSKI on the right side of the road, and some officers + without troops on the left, under MAJOR PACCONI. + + NAPOLEON rides in the midst of the advance-guard, in the old + familiar "redingote grise," cocked hat, and tricolor cockade, + his well-known profile keen against the hills. He is attended + by GENERALS BERTRAND, DROUOT, and CAMBRONNE. When they get within + gun-shot of the royalists the men are halted. NAPOLEON dismounts + and steps forward.] + + +NAPOLEON + + Direct the men +To lodge their weapons underneath the arm, +Points downward. I shall not require them here. + + +COLONEL MALLET + +Sire, is it not a needless jeopardy +To meet them thus? The sentiments of these +We do not know, and the first trigger pressed +May end you. + + +NAPOLEON + + I have thought it out, my friend, +And value not my life as in itself, +But as to France, severed from whose embrace] +I am dead already. + + [He repeats the order, which is carried out. There is a breathless + silence, and people from the village gather round with tragic + expectations. NAPOLEON walks on alone towards the Fifth battalion, + Throwing open his great-coat and revealing his uniform and the + ribbon of the Legion of Honour. Raising his hand to his hat he + salutes.] + + +LESSARD + + Present arms! + + [The firelocks of the royalist battalion are levelled at NAPOLEON.] + + +NAPOLEON (still advancing) + + Men of the Fifth, +See--here I am! . . . Old friends, do you not know me? +If there be one among you who would slay +His Chief of proud past years, let him come on +And do it now! (A pause.) + + +LESSARD (to his next officer) + + They are death-white at his words! +They'll fire not on this man. And I am helpless. + + +SOLDIERS (suddenly) + +Why yes! We know you, father. Glad to see ye! +The Emperor for ever! Ha! Huzza! + + [They throw their arms upon the ground, and, rushing forward, + sink down and seize NAPOLEON'S knees and kiss his hands. Those + who cannot get near him wave their shakos and acclaim him + passionately. BERTRAND, DROUOT, and CAMBRONNE come up.] + + +NAPOLEON (privately) + +All is accomplished, Bertrand! Ten days more, +And we are snug within the Tuileries. + + [The soldiers tear out their white cockades and trample on them, + and disinter from the bottom of their knapsacks tricolors, which + they set up. + + NAPOLEON'S own men now arrive, and fraternize with and embrace + the soldiers of the Fifth. When the emotion has subsided, + NAPOLEON forms the whole body into a square and addresses them.] + +Soldiers, I came with these few faithful ones +To save you from the Bourbons,--treasons, tricks, +Ancient abuses, feudal tyranny-- +From which I once of old delivered you. +The Bourbon throne is illegitimate +Because not founded on the nation's will, +But propped up for the profit of a few. +Comrades, is this not so? + + +A GRENADIER + + Yes, verily, sire. +You are the Angel of the Lord to us; +We'll march with you to death or victory! (Shouts.) + + [At this moment a howling dog crosses in front of them with a + cockade tied to its tail. The soldiery of both sides laugh + loudly. + + NAPOLEON forms both bodies of troops into one column. Peasantry + run up with buckets of sour wine and a single glass; NAPOLEON + takes his turn with the rank and file in drinking from it. He + bids the whole column follow him to Grenoble and Paris. Exeunt + soldiers headed by NAPOLEON. The scene shuts.] + + + +SCENE IV + +SCHONBRUNN + + [The gardens of the Palace. Fountains and statuary are seen + around, and the Gloriette colonnade rising against the sky on + a hill behind. + + The ex-EMPRESS MARIE LOUISE is discovered walking up and down. + Accompanying her is the KING OF ROME--now a blue-eye, fair-haired + child--in the charge of the COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU. Close by is + COUNT NEIPPERG, and at a little distance MENEVAL, her attendant + and Napoleon's adherent. + + The EMPEROR FRANCIS and METTERNICH enter at the other end of the + parterre.] + + +MARIE LOUISE (with a start) + +Here are the Emperor and Prince Metternich. +Wrote you as I directed? + + +NEIPPERG + + Promptly so. +I said your Majesty had not part +In this mad move of your Imperial spouse, +And made yourself a ward of the Allies; +Adding, that you had vowed irrevocably +To enter France no more. + + +MARIE LOUISE + + Your worthy zeal +Has been a trifle swift. My meaning stretched +Not quite so far as that. . . . And yet--and yet +It matters little. Nothing matters much! + + [The EMPEROR and METTERNICH come forward. NEIPPERG retires.] + + +FRANCIS + +My daughter, you did not a whit too soon +Voice your repudiation. Have you seen +What the allies have papered Europe with? + + +MARIE LOUISE + +I have seen nothing. + + +FRANCIS + + Please you read it, Prince. + + +METTERNICH (taking out a paper) + +"The Powers assembled at the Congress here +Owe it to their own troths and dignities, +And to the furtherance of social order, +To make a solemn Declaration, thus: +By breaking the convention as to Elba, +Napoleon Bonaparte forthwith destroys +His only legal title to exist, +And as a consequence has hurled himself +Beyond the pale of civil intercourse. +Disturber of the tranquillity of the world, +There can be neither peace nor truce with him, +And public vengeance is his self-sought doom.-- +Signed by the Plenipotentiaries." + + +MARIE LOUISE (pale) + + O God, +How terrible! . . . What shall---(she begins weeping.) + + +KING OF ROME + + Is it papa +They want to hurt like that, dear Mamma 'Quiou? +Then 'twas no good my praying for him so; +And I can see that I am not going to be +A King much longer! + + +COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU (retiring with the child) + + Pray for him, Monseigneur, +Morning and evening just the same! They plan +To take you off from me. But don't forget-- +Do as I say! + + +KING OF ROME + + Yes, Mamma 'Quiou, I will!-- +But why have I no pages now? And why +Does my mamma the Empress weep so much? + + +COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU + +We'll talk elsewhere. + + [MONTESQUIOU and the KING OF ROME withdraw to back.] + + +FRANCIS + + At least, then, you agree +Not to attempt to follow Paris-ward +Your conscience-lacking husband, and create +More troubles in the State?--Remember this, +I sacrifice my every man and horse +Ere he Rule France again. + + +MARIE LOUISE + + I am pledged already +To hold by the Allies; let that suffice! + + +METTERNICH + +For the clear good of all, your Majesty, +And for your safety and the King of Rome's, +It most befits that your Imperial father +Should have sole charge of the young king henceforth, +While these convulsions rage. That this is so +You will see, I think, in view of being installed +As Parma's Duchess, and take steps therefor. + + +MARIE LOUISE (coldly) + +I understand the terms to be as follows: +Parma is mine--my very own possession,-- +And as a counterquit, the guardianship +Is ceded to my father of my son, +And I keep out of France. + + +METTERNICH + + And likewise this: +All missives that your Majesty receives +Under Napoleon's hand, you tender straight +The Austrian Cabinet, the seals unbroke; +With those received already. + + +FRANCIS + + You discern +How vastly to the welfare of your son +This course must tend? Duchess of Parma throned +You shine a wealthy woman, to endow +Your son with fortune and large landed fee. + + +MARIE LOUISE (bitterly) + +I must have Parma: and those being the terms +Perforce accept! I weary of the strain +Of statecraft and political embroil: +I long for private quiet! . . . And now wish +To say no more at all. + + [MENEVAL, who has heard her latter remarks, turns sadly away.] + + +FRANCIS + + There's nought to say; +All is in train to work straightforwardly. + + [FRANCIS and METTERNICH depart. MARIE LOUISE retires towards the + child and the COUNTESS OF MONTESQUIOU at the back of the parterre, + where they are joined by NEIPPERG. + + Enter in front DE MONTROND, a secret emissary of NAPOLEON, disguised + as a florist examining the gardens. MENEVAL recognizes him and + comes forward.] + + +MENEVAL + +Why are you here, de Montrond? All is hopeless! + + +DE MONTROND + +Wherefore? The offer of the Regency +I come empowered to make, and will conduct her +Safely to Strassburg with her little son, +If she shrink not to breech her as a man, +And tiptoe from a postern unperceived? + + +MENEVAL + +Though such quaint gear would mould her to a youth +Fair as Adonis on a hunting morn, +Yet she'll refuse! A German prudery +Sits on her still; more, kneaded by her arts +There's no will left to her. I conjured her +To hold aloof, sign nothing. But in vain. + + +DE MONTROND (looking towards Marie Louise) + +I fain would put it to her privately! + + +MENEVAL + +A thing impossible. No word to her +Without a word to him you see with her, +Neipperg to wit. She grows indifferent +To dreams as Regent; visioning a future +Wherein her son and self are two of three +But where the third is not Napoleon. + + +DE MONTROND (In sad surprise) + +I may as well go hence then as I came, +And kneel to Heaven for one thing--that success +Attend Napoleon in the coming throes! + + +MENEVAL + +I'll walk with you for safety to the gate, +Though I am as the Emperor's man suspect, +And any day may be dismissed. If so +I go to Paris. + + [Exeunt MENEVAL and DE MONTROND.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Had he but persevered, and biassed her + To slip the breeches on, and hie away, + Who knows but that the map of France had shaped + And it will never now! + + [There enters from the other side of the gardens MARIA CAROLINA, + ex-Queen of Naples, and grandmother of Marie Louise. The latter, + dismissing MONTESQUIOU and the child, comes forward.] + + +MARIA CAROLINA + +I have crossed from Hetzendorf to kill an hour; +Why art so pensive, dear? + + +MARIE LOUISE + + Ah, why! My lines +Rule ruggedly. You doubtless have perused +This vicious cry against the Emperor? +He's outlawed--to be caught alive or dead, +Like any noisome beast! + + +MARIA CAROLINA + + Nought have I heard, +My child. But these vile tricks, to pluck you from +Your nuptial plightage and your rightful glory +Make me belch oaths!--You shall not join your husband +Do they assert? My God, I know one thing, +Outlawed or no, I'd knot my sheets forthwith, +Were I but you, and steal to him in disguise, +Let come what would come! Marriage is for life. + + +MARIE LOUISE + +Mostly; not always: not with Josephine; +And, maybe, not with me. But, that apart, +I could do nothing so outrageous. +Too many things, dear grand-dame, you forget. +A puppet I, by force inflexible, +Was bid to wed Napoleon at a nod,-- +The man acclaimed to me from cradle-days +As the incarnate of all evil things, +The Antichrist himself.--I kissed the cup, +Gulped down the inevitable, and married him; +But none the less I saw myself therein +The lamb whose innocent flesh was dressed to grace +The altar of dynastic ritual!-- +Hence Elba flung no duty-call to me, +Neither does Paris now. + + +MARIA CAROLINA + + I do perceive +They have worked on you to much effect already! +Go, join your Count; he waits you, dear.--Well, well; +The way the wind blows needs no cock to tell! + + [Exeunt severally QUEEN MARIA CAROLINA and MARIE LOUISE with + NEIPPERG. The sun sets over the gardens and the scene fades.] + + + +SCENE V + +LONDON. THE OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS + + [The interior of the Chamber appears as in Scene III., Act I., + Part I., except that the windows are not open and the trees + without are not yet green. + + Among the Members discovered in their places are, of ministers + and their supporters, LORD CASTLEREAGH the Foreign Secretary, + VANSITTART Chancellor of the Exchequer, BATHURST, PALMERSTON + the War Secretary, ROSE, PONSONBY, ARBUTHNOT, LUSHINGTON, GARROW + the Attorney General, SHEPHERD, LONG, PLUNKETT, BANKES; and among + those of the Opposition SIR FRANCIS BURDETT, WHITBREAD, TIERNEY, + ABERCROMBY, DUNDAS, BRAND, DUNCANNON, LAMBTON, HEATHCOTE, SIR + SAMUEL ROMILLY, G. WALPOLE, RIDLEY, OSBORNE, and HORNER. + + Much interest in the debate is apparent, and the galleries are + full. LORD CASTLEREAGH rises.] + + +CASTLEREAGH + +At never a moment in my stressed career, +Amid no memory-moving urgencies, +Have I, sir, felt so gravely set on me +The sudden, vast responsibility +That I feel now. Few things conceivable +Could more momentous to the future be +Than what may spring from counsel here to-night +On means to meet the plot unparalleled +In full fierce play elsewhere. Sir, this being so, +And seeing how the events of these last days +Menace the toil of twenty anxious years, +And peril all that period's patient aim, +No auguring mind can doubt that deeds which root +In steadiest purpose only, will effect +Deliverance from a world-calamity +As dark as any in the vaults of Time. + +Now, what we notice front and foremost is +That this convulsion speaks not, pictures not +The heart of France. It comes of artifice-- +From the unique and sinister influence +Of a smart army-gamester--upon men +Who have shared his own excitements, spoils, and crimes.-- +This man, who calls himself most impiously +The Emperor of France by Grace of God, +Has, in the scale of human character, +Dropt down so low, that he has set at nought +All pledges, stipulations, guarantees, +And stepped upon the only pedestal +On which he cares to stand--his lawless will. +Indeed, it is a fact scarce credible +That so mysteriously in his own breast +Did this adventurer lock the scheme he planned, +That his companion Bertrand, chief in trust, +Was unapprised thereof until the hour +In which the order to embark was given! + +I think the House will readily discern +That the wise, wary trackway to be trod +By our own country in the crisis reached, +Must lie 'twixt two alternatives,--of war +In concert with the Continental Powers, +Or of an armed and cautionary course +Sufficing for the present phase of things. + +Whatever differences of view prevail +On the so serious and impending question-- +Whether in point of prudent reckoning +'Twere better let the power set up exist, +Or promptly at the outset deal with it-- +Still, to all eyes it is imperative +That some mode of safeguardance be devised; +And if I cannot range before the House, +At this stage, all the reachings of the case, +I will, if needful, on some future day +Poise these nice matters on their merits here. + +Meanwhile I have to move: +That an address unto His Royal Highness +Be humbly offered for his gracious message, +And to assure him that his faithful Commons +Are fully roused to the dark hazardries +To which the life and equanimity +Of Europe are exposed by deeds in France, +In contravention of the plighted pacts +At Paris in the course of yester-year. + +That, in a cause of such wide-waked concern, +It doth afford us real relief to know +That concert with His Majesty's Allies +Is being effected with no loss of time-- +Such concert as will thoroughly provide +For Europe's full and long security. (Cheers.) + +That we, with zeal, will speed such help to him +So to augment his force by sea and land +As shall empower him to set afoot +Swift measures meet for its accomplishing. (Cheers.) + + +BURDETT + +It seems to me almost impossible, +Weighing the language of the noble lord, +To catch its counsel,--whether peace of war. (Hear, hear.) +If I translate his words to signify +The high expediency of watch and ward, +That we may not be taken unawares, +I own concurrence; but if he propose +Too plunge this realm into a sea of blood +To reinstate the Bourbon line in France, +I should but poorly do my duty here +Did I not lift my voice protestingly +Against so ruinous an enterprise! + +Sir, I am old enough to call to mind +The first fierce frenzies for the selfsame end, +The fruit of which was to endow this man, +The object of your apprehension now, +With such a might as could not be withstood +By all of banded Europe, till he roamed +And wrecked it wantonly on Russian plains. +Shall, then, another score of scourging years +Distract this land to make a Bourbon king? +Wrongly has Bonaparte's late course been called +A rude incursion on the soil of France.-- +Who ever knew a sole and single man +Invade a nation thirty million strong, +And gain in some few days full sovereignty +Against the nation's will!--The truth is this: +The nation longed for him, and has obtained him. . . . + +I have beheld the agonies of war +Through many a weary season; seen enough +To make me hold that scarcely any goal +Is worth the reaching by so red a road. +No man can doubt that this Napoleon stands +As Emperor of France by Frenchmen's wills. +Let the French settle, then, their own affairs; +I say we shall have nought to apprehend!-- + +Much as I might advance in proof of this, +I'll dwell not thereon now. I am satisfied +To give the general reasons which, in brief, +Balk my concurrence in the Address proposed. (Cheers.) + + +PONSONBY + +My words will be but few, for the Address +Constrains me to support it as it stands. +So far from being the primary step to war, +Its sense and substance is, in my regard, +To leave the House to guidance by events +On the grave question of hostilities. + +The statements of the noble lord, I hold, +Have not been candidly interpreted +By grafting on to them a headstrong will, +As does the honourable baronet, +To rob the French of Buonaparte's rule, +And force them back to Bourbon monarchism. +That our free land, at this abnormal time, +Should put her in a pose of wariness, +No unwarped mind can doubt. Must war revive, +Let it be quickly waged; and quickly, too, +Reach its effective end: though 'tis my hope, +My ardent hope, that peace may be preserved. + + +WHITBREAD + +Were it that I could think, as does my friend, +That ambiguity of sentiment +Informed the utterance of the noble lord +(As oft does ambiguity of word), +I might with satisfied and sure resolve +Vote straight for the Address. But eyeing well +The flimsy web there woven to entrap +The credence of my honourable friends, +I must with all my energy contest +The wisdom of a new and hot crusade +For fixing who shall fill the throne of France. + +Already are the seeds of mischief sown: +The Declaration at Vienna, signed +Against Napoleon, is, in my regard, +Abhorrent, and our country's character +Defaced by our subscription to its terms! +If words have any meaning it incites +To sheer assassination; it proclaims +That any meeting Bonaparte may slay him; +And, whatso language the Allies now hold, +In that outburst, at least, was war declared. +The noble lord to-night would second it, +Would seem to urge that we full arm, then wait +For just as long, no longer, than would serve +The preparations of the other Powers, +And then--pounce down on France! + + +CASTLEREAGH + + No, no! Not so. + + +WHITBREAD + +Good God, then, what are we to understand?-- +However, this denial is a gain, +And my misapprehension owes its birth +Entirely to that mystery of phrase +Which taints all rhetoric of the noble lord, + +Well, what is urged for new aggression now, +To vamp up and replace the Bourbon line? +The wittiest man who ever sat here(21) said +That half our nation's debt had been incurred +In efforts to suppress the Bourbon power, +The other half in efforts to restore it, (laughter) +And I must deprecate a further plunge +For ends so futile! Why, since Ministers +Craved peace with Bonaparte at Chatillon, +Should they refuse him peace and quiet now? + +This brief amendment therefore I submit +To limit Ministers' aggressiveness +And make self-safety all their chartering: +"We at the same time earnestly implore +That the Prince Regent graciously induce +Strenuous endeavours in the cause of peace, +So long as it be done consistently +With the due honour of the English crown." (Cheers.) + + +CASTLEREAGH + +The arguments of Members opposite +Posit conditions which experience proves +But figments of a dream;--that honesty, +Truth, and good faith in this same Bonaparte +May be assumed and can be acted on: +This of one who is loud to violate +Bonds the most sacred, treaties the most grave! . . . + +It follows not that since this realm was won +To treat with Bonaparte at Chatillon, +It can treat now. And as for assassination, +The sentiments outspoken here to-night +Are much more like to urge to desperate deeds +Against the persons of our good Allies, +Than are, against Napoleon, statements signed +By the Vienna plenipotentiaries! + +We are, in fine, too fully warranted +On moral grounds to strike at Bonaparte, +If we at any crisis reckon it +Expedient so to do. The Government +Will act throughout in concert with the Allies, +And Ministers are well within their rights +To claim that their responsibility +Be not disturbed by hackneyed forms of speech ("Oh, oh") +Upon war's horrors, and the bliss of peace,-- +Which none denies! (Cheers.) + + +PONSONBY + + I ask the noble lord, +If that his meaning and pronouncement be +Immediate war? + + +CASTLEREAGH + + I have not phrased it so. + + +OPPOSITION CRIES + +The question is unanswered! + + [There are excited calls, and the House divides. The result is + announced as thirty-seven for WHITBREAD'S amendment, and against + it two hundred and twenty. The clock strikes twelve as the House + adjourns.] + + + +SCENE VI + +WESSEX. DURNOVER GREEN, CASTERBRIDGE + + [On a patch of green grass on Durnover Hill, in the purlieus of + Casterbridge, a rough gallows has been erected, and an effigy of + Napoleon hung upon it. Under the effigy are faggots of brushwood. + + It is the dusk of a spring evening, and a great crowd has gathered, + comprising male and female inhabitants of the Durnover suburb + and villagers from distances of many miles. Also are present + some of the county yeomanry in white leather breeches and scarlet, + volunteers in scarlet with green facings, and the REVEREND MR. + PALMER, vicar of the parish, leaning against the post of his + garden door, and smoking a clay pipe of preternatural length. + Also PRIVATE CANTLE from Egdon Heath, and SOLOMON LONGWAYS of + Casterbridge. The Durnover band, which includes a clarionet, + {serpent,} oboe, tambourine, cymbals, and drum, is playing "Lord + Wellington's Hornpipe."] + + +RUSTIC (wiping his face) + +Says I, please God I'll lose a quarter to zee he burned! And I left +Stourcastle at dree o'clock to a minute. And if I'd known that I +should be too late to zee the beginning on't, I'd have lost a half +to be a bit sooner. + + +YEOMAN + +Oh, you be soon enough good-now. He's just going to be lighted. + + +RUSTIC + +But shall I zee en die? I wanted to zee if he'd die hard, + + +YEOMAN + +Why, you don't suppose that Boney himself is to be burned here? + + +RUSTIC + +What--not Boney that's to be burned? + + +A WOMAN + +Why, bless the poor man, no! This is only a mommet they've made of +him, that's got neither chine nor chitlings. His innerds be only a +lock of straw from Bridle's barton. + + +LONGWAYS + +He's made, neighbour, of a' old cast jacket and breeches from our +barracks here. Likeways Grammer Pawle gave us Cap'n Meggs's old +Zunday shirt that she'd saved for tinder-box linnit; and Keeper +Tricksey of Mellstock emptied his powder-horn into a barm-bladder, +to make his heart wi'. + + +RUSTIC (vehemently) + +Then there's no honesty left in Wessex folk nowadays at all! "Boney's +going to be burned on Durnover Green to-night,"-- that was what I +thought, to be sure I did, that he'd been catched sailing from his +islant and landed at Budmouth and brought to Casterbridge Jail, the +natural retreat of malefactors!--False deceivers--making me lose a +quarter who can ill afford it; and all for nothing! + + +LONGWAYS + +'Tisn't a mo'sel o' good for thee to cry out against Wessex folk, when +'twas all thy own stunpoll ignorance. + + [The VICAR OF DURNOVER removes his pipe and spits perpendicularly.] + + +VICAR + +My dear misguided man, you don't imagine that we should be so inhuman +in this Christian country as to burn a fellow creature alive? + + +RUSTIC + +Faith, I won't say I didn't! Durnover folk have never had the +highest of Christian character, come to that. And I didn't know +but that even a pa'son might backslide to such things in these gory +times--I won't say on a Zunday, but on a week-night like this--when +we think what a blasphemious rascal he is, and that there's not a +more charnel-minded villain towards womenfolk in the whole world. + + [The effigy has by this time been kindled, and they watch it burn, + the flames making the faces of the crowd brass-bright, and lighting + the grey tower of Durnover Church hard by.] + + +WOMAN (singing) + + Bayonets and firelocks! + I wouldn't my mammy should know't + But I've been kissed in a sentry-box, + Wrapped up in a soldier's coat! + + +PRIVATE CANTLE + +Talk of backsliding to burn Boney, I can backslide to anything +when my blood is up, or rise to anything, thank God for't! Why, +I shouldn't mind fighting Boney single-handed, if so be I had +the choice o' weapons, and fresh Rainbarrow flints in my flint-box, +and could get at him downhill. Yes, I'm a dangerous hand with a +pistol now and then! . . . Hark, what's that? (A horn is heard +eastward on the London Road.) Ah, here comes the mail. Now we may +learn something. Nothing boldens my nerves like news of slaughter! + + [Enter mail-coach and steaming horses. It halts for a minute while + the wheel is skidded and the horses stale.] + + +SEVERAL + +What was the latest news from abroad, guard, when you left +Piccadilly White-Horse-Cellar! + + +GUARD + +You have heard, I suppose, that he's given up to public vengeance, +by Gover'ment orders? Anybody may take his life in any way, fair +or foul, and no questions asked. But Marshal Ney, who was sent to +fight him, flung his arms round his neck and joined him with all +his men. Next, the telegraph from Plymouth sends news landed there +by _The Sparrow_, that he has reached Paris, and King Louis has +fled. But the air got hazy before the telegraph had finished, and +the name of the place he had fled to couldn't be made out. + + [The VICAR OF DURNOVER blows a cloud of smoke, and again spits + perpendicularly.] + + +VICAR + +Well, I'm d--- Dear me--dear me! The Lord's will be done. + + +GUARD + +And there are to be four armies sent against him--English, Proosian, +Austrian, and Roosian: the first two under Wellington and Blucher. +And just as we left London a show was opened of Boney on horseback +as large as life, hung up with his head downwards. Admission one +shilling; children half-price. A truly patriot spectacle!--Not that +yours here is bad for a simple country-place. + + [The coach drives on down the hill, and the crowd reflectively + watches the burning.] + + +WOMAN (singing) + +I + + My Love's gone a-fighting + Where war-trumpets call, + The wrongs o' men righting + Wi' carbine and ball, + And sabre for smiting, + And charger, and all + +II + + Of whom does he think there + Where war-trumpets call? + To whom does he drink there, + Wi' carbine and ball + On battle's red brink there, + And charger, and all? + +III + + Her, whose voice he hears humming + Where war-trumpets call, + "I wait, Love, thy coming + Wi' carbine and ball, + And bandsmen a-drumming + Thee, charger and all!" + + [The flames reach the powder in the effigy, which is blown to + rags. The band marches off playing "When War's Alarms," the + crowd disperses, the vicar stands musing and smoking at his + garden door till the fire goes out and darkness curtains the + scene.] + + + + +ACT SIXTH + + +SCENE I + +THE BELGIAN FRONTIER + + [The village of Beaumont stands in the centre foreground of a + birds'-eye prospect across the Belgian frontier from the French + side, being close to the Sambre further back in the scene, which + pursues a crinkled course between high banks from Maubeuge on the + left to Charleroi on the right. + + In the shadows that muffle all objects, innumerable bodies of + infantry and cavalry are discerned bivouacking in and around the + village. This mass of men forms the central column of NAPOLEONS'S + army. + + The right column is seen at a distance on that hand, also near + the frontier, on the road leading towards Charleroi; and the + left column by Solre-sur-Sambre, where the frontier and the river + nearly coincide + + The obscurity thins and the June dawn appears.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +The bivouacs of the central column become broken up, and a movement +ensues rightwards on Charleroi. The twelve regiments of cavalry +which are in advance move off first; in half an hour more bodies +move, and more in the next half-hour, till by eight o'clock the +whole central army is gliding on. It defiles in strands by narrow +tracks through the forest. Riding impatiently on the outskirts of +the columns is MARSHAL NEY, who has as yet received no command. + +As the day develops, sight and sounds to the left and right reveal +that the two outside columns have also started, and are creeping +towards the frontier abreast with the centre. That the whole forms +one great movement, co-ordinated by one mind, now becomes apparent. +Preceded by scouts the three columns converge. + +The advance through dense woods by narrow paths takes time. The +head of the middles and main column forces back some outposts, and +reaches Charleroi, driving out the Prussian general ZIETEN. It +seizes the bridge over the Sambre and blows up the gates of the +town. + +The point of observation now descends close to the scene. + +In the midst comes the EMPEROR with the Sappers of the Guard, +the Marines, and the Young Guard. The clatter brings the scared +inhabitants to their doors and windows. Cheers arise from some +of them as NAPOLEON passes up the steep street. Just beyond the +town, in front of the Bellevue Inn, he dismounts. A chair is +brought out, in which he sits and surveys the whole valley of the +Sambre. The troops march past cheering him, and drums roll and +bugles blow. Soon the EMPEROR is found to be asleep. + +When the rattle of their passing ceases the silence wakes him. His +listless eye falls upon a half-defaced poster on a wall opposite-- +the Declaration of the Allies. + + +NAPOLEON (reading) + +". . . Bonaparte destroys the only legal title on which his existence +depended. . . . He has deprived himself of the protection of the law, +and has manifested to the Universe that there can be neither peace +nor truce with him. The Powers consequently declare that Napoleon +Bonaparte has placed himself without the pale of civil and social +relations, and that as an enemy and disturber of the tranquillity +of the world he has rendered himself liable to public vengeance." + + +His flesh quivers, and he turns with a start, as if fancying that +some one may be about to stab him in the back. Then he rises, +mounts, and rides on. + +Meanwhile the right column crosses the Sambre without difficulty +at Chatelet, a little lower down; the left column at Marchienne a +little higher up; and the three limbs combine into one vast army. + +As the curtain of the mist is falling, the point of vision soars +again, and there is afforded a brief glimpse of what is doing far +away on the other side. From all parts of Europe long and sinister +black files are crawling hitherward in serpentine lines, like +slowworms through grass. They are the advancing armies of the +Allies. The Dumb Show ends. + + + +SCENE II + +A BALLROOM IN BRUSSELS(22) + + [It is a June midnight at the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S. A + band of stringed instruments shows in the background. The room + is crowded with a brilliant assemblage of more than two hundred + of the distinguished people sojourning in the city on account of + the war and other reasons, and of local personages of State and + fashion. The ball has opened with "The White Cockade." + + Among those discovered present either dancing or looking on are + the DUKE and DUCHESS as host and hostess, their son and eldest + daughter, the Duchess's brother, the DUKE OF WELLINGTON, the + PRINCE OF ORANGE, the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK, BARON VAN CAPELLEN the + Belgian Secretary of State, the DUKE OF ARENBERG, the MAYOR OF + BRUSSELS, the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF BEAUFORT, GENERAL ALAVA, GENERAL + OUDENARDE, LORD HILL, LORD AND LADY CONYNGHAM, SIR HENRY AND LADY + SUSAN CLINTON, SIR H. AND LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE, SIR WILLIAM AND + LADY DE LANCEY, LORD UXBRIDGE, SIR JOHN BYNG, LORD PORTARLINGTON, + LORD EDWARD SOMERSET, LORD HAY, COLONEL ABERCROMBY, SIR HUSSEY + VIVIAN, SIR A. GORDON, SIR W. PONSONBY, SIR DENIS PACK, SIR JAMES + KEMPT, SIR THOMAS PICTON, GENERAL MAITLAND, COLONEL CAMERON, many + other officers, English, Hanoverian, Dutch and Belgian ladies + English and foreign, and Scotch reel-dancers from Highland + regiments. + + The "Hungarian Waltz" having also been danced, the hostess calls + up the Highland soldiers to show the foreign guests what a Scotch + reel is like. The men put their hands on their hips and tread it + out briskly. While they stand aside and rest "The Hanoverian + Dance" is called. + + Enter LIEUTENANT WEBSTER, A.D.C. to the PRINCE OF ORANGE. The + Prince goes apart with him and receives a dispatch. After reading + it he speaks to WELLINGTON, and the two, accompanied by the DUKE + OF RICHMOND, retire into an alcove with serious faces. WEBSTER, + in passing back across the ballroom, exchanges a hasty word with + two of three of the guests known to him, a young officer among + them, and goes out. + + +YOUNG OFFICER (to partner) + +The French have passed the Sambre at Charleroi! + + +PARTNER + +What--does it mean the Bonaparte indeed +Is bearing down upon us? + + +YOUNG OFFICER + + That is so. +The one who spoke to me in passing out +Is Aide to the Prince of Orange, bringing him +Dispatches from Rebecque, his chief of Staff, +Now at the front, not far from Braine le Comte; +He says that Ney, leading the French van-guard, +Has burst on Quatre-Bras. + + +PARTNER + + O horrid time! +Will you, then, have to go and face him there? + + +YOUNG OFFICER + +I shall, of course, sweet. Promptly too, no doubt. + (He gazes about the room.) +See--the news spreads; the dance is paralyzed. +They are all whispering round. (The band stops.) Here comes + one more, +He's the attache from the Prussian force +At our headquarters. + + [Enter GENERAL MUFFLING. He looks prepossessed, and goes straight + to WELLINGTON and RICHMOND in the alcove, who by this time have + been joined by the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK.] + + +SEVERAL GUESTS (at back of room) + + Yes, you see, it's true! +The army will prepare to march at once. + + +PICTON (to another general) + +I am damn glad we are to be off. Pottering about her pinned to +petticoat tails--it does one no good, but blasted harm! + + +ANOTHER GUEST + +The ball cannot go on, can it? Didn't the Duke know the French +were so near? If he did, how could he let us run risks so coolly? + + +LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE (to partner) + +A deep concern weights those responsible +Who gather in the alcove. Wellington +Affects a cheerfulness in outward port, +But cannot rout his real anxiety! + + [The DUCHESS OF RICHMOND goes to her husband.] + + +DUCHESS + +Ought I to stop the ball? It hardly seems right to let it continue +if all be true. + + +RICHMOND + +I have put that very question to Wellington, my dear. He says that +we need not hurry off the guests. The men have to assemble some +time before the officers, who can stay on here a little longer +without inconvenience; and he would prefer that they should, not to +create a panic in the city, where the friends and spies of Napoleon +are all agog for some such thing, which they would instantly +communicate to him to take advantage of. + + +DUCHESS + +Is it safe to stay on? Should we not be thinking about getting the +children away? + + +RICHMOND + +There's no hurry at all, even if Bonaparte were really sure to +enter. But he's never going to set foot in Brussels--don't you +imagine it for a moment. + + +DUCHESS (anxiously) + +I hope not. But I wish we had never brought them here! + + +RICHMOND + +It is too late, my dear, to wish that now. Don't be flurried; make +the people go on dancing. + + [The DUCHESS returns to her guests. The DUKE rejoins WELLINGTON, + BRUNSWICK, MUFFLING, and the PRINCE OF ORANGE in the alcove.] + + +WELLINGTON + +We need not be astride till five o'clock +If all the men are marshalled well ahead. +The Brussels citizens must not suppose +They stand in serious peril. . . He, I think, +Directs his main attack mistakenly; +It should gave been through Mons, not Charleroi. + + +MUFFLING + +The Austrian armies, and the Russian too, +Will show nowhere in this. The thing that's done, +Be it a historied feat or nine days' fizz, +Will be done long before they join us here. + + +WELLINGTON + +Yes, faith; and 'tis pity. But, by God, +Blucher, I think, and I can make a shift +To do the business without troubling 'em! +Though I've an infamous army, that's the truth,-- +Weak, and but ill-equipped,--and what's as bad, +A damned unpractised staff! + + +MUFFLING + + We'll hope for luck. +Blucher concentrates certainly by now +Near Ligny, as he says in his dispatch. +Your Grace, I glean, will mass at Quatre-Bras? + + +WELLINGTON + +Ay, now we are sure this move on Charleroi +Is no mere feint. Though I had meant Nivelles. +Have ye a good map, Richmond, near at hand? + + +RICHMOND + +In the next room there's one. (Exit RICHMOND.) + + [WELLINGTON calls up various general officers and aides from + other parts of the room. PICTON, UXBRIDGE, HILL, CLINTON, VIVIAN, + MAITLAND, PONSONBY, SOMERSET, and others join him in succession, + receive orders, and go out severally.] + + +PRINCE OF ORANGE + +As my divisions seem to lie around +The probable point of impact, it behoves me +To start at once, Duke, for Genappe, I deem? +Being in Brussels, all for this damned ball, +The dispositions out there have, so far, +Been made by young Saxe Weimar and Perponcher, +On their own judgment quite. I go, your Grace? + + +WELLINGTON + +Yes, certainly. 'Tis now desirable. +Farewell! Good luck, until we meet again, +The battle won! + + [Exit PRINCE OF ORANGE, and shortly after, MUFFLING. RICHMOND + returns with a map, which he spreads out on the table. WELLINGTON + scans it closely.] + + Napoleon has befooled me, +By God he has,--gained four-and-twenty hours' +Good march upon me! + + +RICHMOND + + What do you mean to do? + + +WELLINGTON + +I have bidden the army concentrate in strength +At Quatre-Bras. But we shan't stop him there; +So I must fight him HERE. (He marks Waterloo with his thumbnail.) + Well, now I have sped, +All necessary orders I may sup, +And then must say good-bye. (To Brunswick.) This very day +There will be fighting, Duke. You are fit to start? + + +BRUNSWICK (coming forward) + +I leave almost this moment.--Yes, your Grace-- +And I sheath not my sword till I have avenged +My father's death. I have sworn it! + + +WELLINGTON + + My good friend, +Something too solemn knells beneath your words. +Take cheerful views of the affair in hand, +And fall to't with _sang froid_! + + +BRUNSWICK + + But I have sworn! +Adieu. The rendezvous is Quatre-Bras? + + +WELLINGTON + +Just so. The order is unchanged. Adieu; +But only till a later hour to-day; +I see it is one o'clock. + + [WELLINGTON and RICHMOND go out of the alcove and join the + hostess, BRUNSWICK'S black figure being left there alone. He + bends over the map for a few seconds.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + O Brunswick, Duke of Deathwounds! Even as he + For whom thou wear'st that filial weedery + Was waylaid by my tipstaff nine years since, + So thou this day shalt feel his fendless tap, + And join thy sire! + + +BRUNSWICK (starting up) + + I am stirred by inner words, +As 'twere my father's angel calling me,-- +That prelude to our death my lineage know! + + [He stands in a reverie for a moment; then, bidding adieu to the + DUCHESS OF RICHMOND and her daughter, goes slowly out of the + ballroom by a side-door.] + + +DUCHESS + +The Duke of Brunswick bore him gravely here. +His sable shape has stuck me all the eve +As one of those romantic presences +We hear of--seldom see. + + +WELLINGTON (phlegmatically) + + Romantic,--well, +It may be so. Times often, ever since +The Late Duke's death, his mood has tinged him thus. +He is of those brave men who danger see, +And seeing front it,--not of those, less brave +But counted more, who face it sightlessly. + + +YOUNG OFFICER (to partner) + +The Generals slip away! I, Love, must take +The cobbled highway soon. Some hours ago +The French seized Charleroi; so they loom nigh. + + +PARTNER (uneasily) + +Which tells me that the hour you draw your sword +Looms nigh us likewise! + + +YOUNG OFFICER + + Some are saying here +We fight this very day. Rumours all-shaped +Fly round like cockchafers! + + [Suddenly there echoes in the ballroom a long-drawn metallic purl + of sound, making all the company start.] + +Transcriber's Note: There follows in musical notation five measures + for side-drum. + + Ah--there it is, +Just as I thought! They are beating the Generale. + + [The loud roll of side-drums is taken up by other drums further + and further away, till the hollow noise spreads all over the city. + Dismay is written on the faces of the women. The Highland non- + commissioned officers and privates march smartly down the ballroom + and disappear.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Discerned you stepping out in front of them + That figure--of a pale drum-major kind, + Or fugleman--who wore a cold grimace? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + He was my old fiend Death, in rarest trim, + The occasion favouring his husbandry! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Are those who marched behind him, then, to fall? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Ay, all well-nigh, ere Time have houred three-score. + + +PARTNER + +Surely this cruel call to instant war +Spares space for one dance more, that memory +May store when you are gone, while I--sad me!-- +Wait, wait and weep. . . . Yes--one there is to be! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Methinks flirtation grows too tender here! + + [Country Dance, "The Prime of Life," a favourite figure at this + period. The sense of looming tragedy carries emotion to its + climax. All the younger officers stand up with their partners, + forming several figures of fifteen or twenty couples each. The + air is ecstasizing, and both sexes abandon themselves to the + movement. + + Nearly half an hour passes before the figure is danced down. + Smothered kisses follow the conclusion. The silence is broken + from without by more long hollow rolling notes, so near that + they thrill the window-panes.] + + +SEVERAL + +'Tis the Assemble. Now, then, we must go! + + [The officers bid farewell to their partners and begin leaving + in twos and threes. When they are gone the women mope and murmur + to each other by the wall, and listen to the tramp of men and + slamming of doors in the streets without.] + + +LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE + +The Duke has borne him gaily here to-night. +The youngest spirits scarcely capped his own. + + +DALRYMPLE + +Maybe that, finding himself blade to blade +With Bonaparte at last, his blood gets quick. +French lancers of the Guard were seen at Frasnes +Last midnight; so the clash is not far off. + + [They leave.] + + +DE LANCEY (to his wife) + +I take you to our door, and say good-bye, +And go thence to the Duke's and wait for him. +In a few hours we shall be all in motion +Towards the scene of--what we cannot tell! +You, dear, will haste to Antwerp till it's past, +As we have arranged. + + [They leave.] + + +WELLINGTON (to Richmond) + + Now I must also go, +And snatch a little snooze ere harnessing. +The Prince and Brunswick have been gone some while. + + [RICHMOND walks to the door with him. Exit WELLINGTON, RICHMOND + returns.] + + +DUCHESS (to Richmond) + +Some of these left renew the dance, you see. +I cannot stop them; but with memory hot +Of those late gone, of where they are gone, and why, +It smacks of heartlessness! + + +RICHMOND + + Let be; let be; +Youth comes not twice to fleet mortality! + + [The dancing, however, is fitful and spiritless, few but civilian + partners being left for the ladies. Many of the latter prefer to + sit in reverie while waiting for their carriages.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + When those stout men-at-arms drew forward there, + I saw a like grimacing shadow march + And pirouette before no few of them. + Some of themselves beheld it; some did not. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Which were so ushered? + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Brunswick, who saw and knew; + One also moved before Sir Thomas Picton, + Who coolly conned and drily spoke to it; + Another danced in front of Ponsonby, + Who failed of heeding his.--De Lancey, Hay, + Gordon, and Cameron, and many more + Were footmanned by like phantoms from the ball. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Multiplied shimmerings of my Protean friend, + Who means to couch them shortly. Thou wilt eye + Many fantastic moulds of him ere long, + Such as, bethink thee, oft hast eyed before. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I have--too often! + + [The attenuated dance dies out, the remaining guests depart, the + musicians leave the gallery and depart also. RICHMOND goes to + a window and pulls back one of the curtains. Dawn is barely + visible in the sky, and the lamps indistinctly reveal that long + lines of British infantry have assembled in the street. In the + irksomeness of waiting for their officers with marching-orders, + they have lain down on the pavements, where many are soundly + sleeping, their heads on their knapsacks and their arms by their + side.] + + +DUCHESS + +Poor men. Sleep waylays them. How tired they seem! + + +RICHMOND + +They'll be more tired before the day is done. +A march of eighteen miles beneath the heat, +And then to fight a battle ere they rest, +Is what foreshades.--Well, it is more than bed-time; +But little sleep for us or any one +To-night in Brussels! + + [He draws the window-curtain and goes out with the DUCHESS. + Servants enter and extinguish candles. The scene closes in + darkness.] + + + +SCENE III + +CHARLEROI. NAPOLEON'S QUARTERS + + [The same midnight. NAPOLEON is lying on a bed in his clothes. + In consultation with SOULT, his Chief of Staff, who is sitting + near, he dictates to his Secretary orders for the morrow. They + are addressed to KELLERMANN, DROUOT, LOBAU, GERARD, and other + of his marshals. SOULT goes out to dispatch them. + + The Secretary resumes the reading of reports. Presently MARSHAL + NEY is announced He is heard stumbling up the stairs, and enters.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Ah, Ney; why come you back? Have you secured +The all-important Crossways?--safely sconced +Yourself at Quatre-Bras? + + +NEY + + Not, sire, as yet. +For, marching forwards, I heard gunnery boom, +And, fearing that the Prussians had engaged you, +I stood at pause. Just then--- + + +NAPOLEON + + My charge was this: +Make it impossible at any cost +That Wellington and Blucher should unite. +As it's from Brussels that the English come, +And from Namur the Prussians, Quatre-Bras +Lends it alone for their forgathering: +So, why exists it not in your hands/ + + +NEY + +My reason, sire, was rolling from my tongue.-- +Hard on the boom of guns, dim files of foot +Which read to me like massing Englishry-- +The vanguard of all Wellington's array-- +I half-discerned. So, in pure wariness, +I left the Bachelu columns there at Frasnes, +And hastened back to tell you. + + +NAPOLEON + + Ney; O Ney! +I fear you are not the man that once you were; +Of your so daring, such a faint-heart now! +I have ground to know the foot that flustered you +Were but a few stray groups of Netherlanders; +For my good spies in Brussels send me cue +That up to now the English have not stirred, +But cloy themselves with nightly revel there. + + +NEY (bitterly) + +Give me another opportunity +Before you speak like that! + + +NAPOLEON + + You soon will have one! . . . +But now--no more of this. I have other glooms +Upon my soul--the much-disquieting news +That Bourmont has deserted to our foes +With his whole staff. + + +NEY + + We can afford to let him. + + +NAPOLEON + +It is what such betokens, not their worth, +That whets it! . . . Love, respect for me, have waned; +But I will right that. We've good chances still. +You must return foot-hot to Quatre-Bras; +There Kellermann's cuirassiers will promptly join you +To bear the English backward Brussels way. +I go on towards Fleurus and Ligny now.-- +If Blucher's force retreat, and Wellington's +Lie somnolent in Brussels one day more, +I gain that city sans a single shot! . . . + +Now, friend, downstairs you'll find some supper ready, +Which you must tuck in sharply, and then off. +The past day has not ill-advantaged us; +We have stolen upon the two chiefs unawares, +And in such sites that they must fight apart. +Now for a two hours' rest.--Comrade, adieu +Until to-morrow! + +NEY + + Till to-morrow, sire! + + [Exit NEY. NAPOLEON falls asleep, and the Secretary waits till + dictation shall be resumed. BUSSY, the orderly officer, comes + to the door. + + +BUSSY + +Letters--arrived from Paris. (Hands letters.) + + +SECRETARY + + He shall have them +The moment he awakes. These eighteen hours +He's been astride; and is not what he was.-- +Much news from Paris? + + +BUSSY + + I can only say +What's not the news. The courier has just told me +He'd nothing from the Empress at Vienna +To bring his Majesty. She writes no more. + + +SECRETARY + +And never will again! In my regard +That bird's forsook the nest for good and all. + + +BUSSY + +All that they hear in Paris from her court +Is through our spies there. One of them reports +This rumour of her: that the Archduke John, +In taking leave to join our enemies here, +Said, "Oh, my poor Louise; I am grieved for you +And what I hope is, that he'll be run through, +Or shot, or break his neck, for your own good +No less than ours. + + +NAPOLEON (waking) + + By "he" denoting me? + + +BUSSY (starting) + +Just so, your Majesty. + + +NAPOLEON (peremptorily) + + What said the Empress? + + +BUSSY + +She gave no answer, sire, that rumour bears. + + +NAPOLEON + +Count Neipperg, whom they have made her chamberlain, +Interred his wife last spring--is it not so? + + +BUSSY + +He did, your Majesty. + + +NAPOLEON + + H'm. . . .You may go. + + [Exit BUSSY. The Secretary reads letters aloud in succession. + He comes to the last; begins it; reaches a phrase, and stops + abruptly.] + +Mind not! Read on. No doubt the usual threat, +Or prophecy, from some mad scribe? Who signs it? + + +SECRETARY + +The subscript is "The Duke of Enghien!" + + +NAPOLEON (starting up) + +Bah, man! A treacherous trick! A hoax--no more! +Is that the last? + + +SECRETARY + + The last, your Majesty. + + +NAPOLEON + +Then now I'll sleep. In two hours have me called. + + +SECRETARY + +I'll give the order, sire. + + [The Secretary goes. The candles are removed, except one, and + NAPOLEON endeavours to compose himself.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + +A little moral panorama would do him no harm, after that reminder of +the Duke of Enghien. Shall it be, young Compassion? + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + What good--if that old Years tells us be true? + But I say naught. To ordain is not for me! + + [Thereupon a vision passes before NAPOLEON as he lies, comprising + hundreds of thousands of skeletons and corpses in various stages + of decay. They rise from his various battlefields, the flesh + dropping from them, and gaze reproachfully at him. His intimate + officers who have been slain he recognizes among the crowd. In + front is the DUKE OF ENGHIEN as showman.] + + +NAPOLEON (in his sleep) + +Why, why should this reproach be dealt me now? +Why hold me my own master, if I be +Ruled by the pitiless Planet of Destiny? + + [He jumps up in a sweat and puts out the last candle; and the + scene is curtained by darkness.] + + + +SCENE IV + +A CHAMBER OVERLOOKING A MAIN STREET IN BRUSSELS + + [A June sunrise; the beams struggling through the window-curtains. + A canopied bed in a recess on the left. The quick notes of + "Brighton Camp, or the "Girl I've left behind me," strike sharply + into the room from fifes and drums without. A young lady in a + dressing-gown, who has evidently been awaiting the sound, springs + from the bed like a hare from its form, undraws window-curtains + and opens the window. + + Columns of British soldiery are marching past from the Parc + southward out of the city by the Namur Gate. The windows of + other houses in the street rattle open, and become full of + gazers. + + A tap at the door. An older lady enters, and comes up to the + first.] + + +YOUNGER LADY (turning) + +O mamma--I didn't hear you! + + +ELDER LADY + +I was sound asleep till the thumping of the drums set me fantastically +dreaming, and when I awoke I found they were real. Did they wake you +too, my dear? + + +Younger Lady (reluctantly) + +I didn't require waking. I hadn't slept since we came home. + + +ELDER LADY + +That was from the excitement of the ball. There are dark rings round +your eye. (The fifes and drums are now opposite, and thrill the air +in the room.) Ah--that "Girl I've left behind me!"--which so many +thousands of women have throbbed an accompaniment to, and will again +to-day if ever they did! + + +YOUNGER LADY (her voice faltering) + +It is rather cruel to say that just now, mamma. There, I can't look +at them after it! (She turns and wipes her eyes.) + + +ELDER LADY + +I wasn't thinking of ourselves--certainly not of you.--How they +press on--with those great knapsacks and firelocks and, I am told, +fifty-six rounds of ball-cartridge, and four days' provisions in +those haversacks. How can they carry it all near twenty miles and +fight with it on their shoulders! . . . Don't cry, dear. I thought +you would get sentimental last night over somebody. I ought to +have brought you home sooner. How many dances did you have? It +was impossible for me to look after you in the excitement of the +war-tidings. + + +YOUNGER LADY + +Only three--four. + + +ELDER LADY + +Which were they? + + +YOUNGER LADY + +"Enrico," the "Copenhagen Waltz" and the "Hanoverian," and the +"Prime of Life." + + +ELDER LADY + +It was very foolish to fall in love on the strength of four dances. + + +YOUNGER LADY (evasively) + +Fall in love? Who said I had fallen in love? What a funny idea! + + +ELDER LADY + +Is it? . . . Now here come the Highland Brigade with their pipes +and their "Hieland Laddie." How the sweethearts cling to the men's +arms. (Reaching forward.) There are more regiments following. +But look, that gentleman opposite knows us. I cannot remember his +name. (She bows and calls across.) Sir, which are these? + + +GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE + +The Ninety-second. Next come the Forty-ninth, and next the Forty- +second--Sir Denis Pack's brigade. + + +ELDER LADY + +Thank you.--I think it is that gentleman we talked to at the +Duchess's, but I am not sure. (A pause: another band.) + + +GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE + +That's the Twenty-eighth. (They pass, with their band and colours.) +Now the Thirty-second are coming up--part of Kempt's brigade. Endless, +are they not? + + +ELDER LADY + +Yes, Sir. Has the Duke passed out yet? + + +GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE + +Not yet. Some cavalry will go by first, I think. The foot coming +up now are the Seventy-ninth. (They pass.) . . . These next are +the Ninety-fifth. (They pass.) . . . These are the First Foot- +guards now. (They pass, playing "British Grenadiers.") . . . The +Fusileer-guards now. (They pass.) Now the Coldstreamers. (They +pass. He looks up towards the Parc.) Several Hanoverian regiments +under Colonel Best are coming next. (They pass, with their bands +and colours. An interval.) + + +ELDER LADY (to daughter) + +Here are the hussars. How much more they carry to battle than at +reviews. The hay in those great nets must encumber them. (She +turns and sees that her daughter has become pale.) Ah, now I know! +HE has just gone by. You exchanged signals with him, you wicked +girl! How do you know what his character is, or if he'll ever come +back? + + [The younger lady goes and flings herself on her face upon the + bed, sobbing silently. Her mother glances at her, but leaves + her alone. An interval. The prancing of a group of horsemen + is heard on the cobble-stones without.] + + +GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE (calling) + +Here comes the Duke! + + +ELDER LADY (to younger) + +You have left the window at the most important time! The Duke of +Wellington and his staff-officers are passing out. + + +YOUNGER LADY + +I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anything any more! + + [Riding down the street comes WELLINGTON in a grey frock-coat and + small cocked hat, frigid and undemonstrative; accompanied by four + or five Generals of his suite, the Deputy Quartermaster-general + De LANCEY, LORD FITZROY SOMERSET, Aide-de-camp, and GENERAL + MUFFLING.] + + +GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE + +He is the Prussian officer attached to our headquarters, through whom +Wellington communicates with Blucher, who, they say, is threatened by +the French at Ligny at this moment. + + [The elder lady turns to her daughter, and going to the bed bends + over her, while the horses' tramp of WELLINGTON and his staff + clatters more faintly in the street, and the music of the last + retreating band dies away towards the Forest of Soignes. + + Finding her daughter is hysterical with grief she quickly draws + the window-curtains to screen the room from the houses opposite. + Scene ends.] + + + +SCENE V + +THE FIELD OF LIGNY + + [The same day later. A prospect of the battlefield of Ligny + southward from the roof of the windmill of Bussy, which stands at + the centre and highest point of the Prussian position, about six + miles south-east of Quatre-Bras. + + The ground slopes downward along the whole front of the scene to + a valley through which wanders the Ligne, a muddy stream bordered + by sallows. On both sides of the stream, in the middle plane of + the picture, stands the village of Ligny, composed of thatched + cottages, gardens, and farm-houses with stone walls; the main + features, such as the church, church-yard, and village-green + being on the further side of the Ligne. + + On that side the land reascends in green wheatfields to an + elevation somewhat greater than that of the foreground, reaching + away to Fleurus in the right-hand distance. + + In front, on the slopes between the spectator and the village, + is the First Corps of the Prussian army commanded by Zieten, its + First Brigade under STEINMETZ occupying the most salient point. + The Corps under THIELMANN is ranged to the left, and that of + PIRCH to the rear, in reserve to ZIETEN. In the centre-front, + just under the mill, BLUCHER on a fine grey charger is intently + watching, with his staff. + + Something dark is seen to be advancing over the horizon by + Fleurus, about three miles off. It is the van of NAPOLEON'S + army, approaching to give battle. + + At this moment hoofs are heard clattering along a road that + passes behind the mill; and there come round to the front the + DUKE OF WELLINGTON, his staff-officers, and a small escort of + cavalry. + + WELLINGTON and BLUCHER greet each other at the foot of the + windmill. They disappear inside, and can be heard ascending + the ladders. + + Enter on the roof WELLINGTON and BLUCHER, followed by FITZROY + SOMERSET, GNEISENAU, MUFFLING, and others. Before renewing + their conversation they peer through their glasses at the dark + movements on the horizon. WELLINGTON'S manner is deliberate, + judicial, almost indifferent; BLUCHER'S eager and impetuous. + + +WELLINGTON + +They muster not as yet in near such strength +At Quatre-Bras as here. + + +BLUCHER + + 'Tis from Fleurus +They come debouching. I, perforce, withdrew +My forward posts of cavalry at dawn +In face of their light cannon. . . . They'll be here +I reckon, soon! + + +WELLINGTON (still with glass) + + I clearly see his staff, +And if my eyes don't lie, the Arch-one too. . . . +It is the whole Imperial army, Prince, +That we've before us. (A silence.) Well, we'll cope with them! +What would you have me do? + + [BLUCHER is so absorbed in what he sees that he does not heed.] + + +GNEISENAU + + Duke, this I'd say: +Events suggest to us that you come up +With all your force, behind the village here, +And act as our reserve. + + +MUFFLING + + But Bonaparte, +Pray note, has redistributed his strength +In fashion that you fail to recognize. +I am against your scheme. + + +BLUCHER (lowering his glass) + + Signs notify +Napoleon's plans as changed! He purports now +To strike our left--between Sombreffe and Brye. . . . +If so, I have to readjust my ward. + + +WELLINGTON + +One of his two divisions that we scan +Outspreading from Fleurus, seems bent on Ligny, +The other on Saint-Amand. + + +BLUCHER + + Well, I shall see +In half an hour, your Grace. If what I deem +Be what he means, Von Zieten's corps forthwith +Must stand to their positions: Pirch out here, +Henckel at Ligny, Steinmetz at La Haye. + + +WELLINGTON + +So that, your Excellency, as I opine, +I go and sling my strength on their left wing-- +Manoeuvring to outflank 'em on that side. + + +BLUCHER + +True, true. Our plan uncovers of itself; +You bear down everything from Quatre-Bras +Along the road to Frasnes. + + +WELLINGTON + + I will, by God. +I'll bear straight on to Gosselies, if needs! + + +GNEISENAU + +Your Excellencies, if I may be a judge, +Such movement will not tend to unity; +It leans too largely on a peradventure +Most speculative in its contingencies! + + [A silence; till the officers of the staff remark to each other + that concentration is best in any circumstances. A general + discussion ensues.] + + +BLUCHER (concludingly) + +We will expect you, Duke, to our support. + + +WELLINGTON + +I must agree that, in the sum, it's best. +So be it then. If not attacked myself +I'll come to you.--Now I return with speed +To Quatre-Bras. + + +BLUCHER + + And I descend from here +To give close eye and thought to things below; +No more can well be studied where we stand. + + [Exeunt from roof WELLINGTON, BLUCHER and the rest. They reappear + below, and WELLINGTON and his suite gallop furiously away in the + direction of Quatre-Bras. An interval.] + + +DUMB SHOW (below) + +Three reports of a cannon give the signal for the French attack. +NAPOLEON'S army advances down the slopes of green corn opposite, +bands and voices joining in songs of victory. The French come +in three grand columns; VANDAMME'S on the left (the spectator's +right) against Saint-Amand, the most forward angle of the Prussian +position. GERARD'S in the centre bear down upon Ligny. GROUCHY'S +on the French right is further back. Far to the rear can be +discerned NAPOLEON, the Imperial Guard, and MILHAUD'S cuirassiers +halted in reserve. + +This formidable advance is preceded by swarms of tirailleurs, who +tread down the high wheat, exposing their own men in the rear. + +Amid cannonading from both sides they draw nearer to the Prussians, +though lanes are cut through them by the latter's guns. They drive +the Prussians out of Ligny; who, however, rally in the houses, +churchyard, and village green. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + I see unnatural an Monster, loosely jointed, + With an Apocalyptic Being's shape, + And limbs and eyes a hundred thousand strong, + And fifty thousand heads; which coils itself + About the buildings there. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Thou dost indeed. + It is the Monster Devastation. Watch. + + +Round the church they fight without quarter, shooting face to face, +stabbing with unfixed bayonets, and braining with the butts of +muskets. The village catches fire, and soon becomes a furnace. +The crash of splitting timbers as doors are broken through, the +curses of the fighters, rise into the air, with shouts of "En +avant!" from the further side of the stream, and "Vorwarts!" from +the nearer. + +The battle extends to the west by Le Hameau and Saint-Amand la Haye; +and Ligny becomes invisible under a shroud of smoke. + + +VOICES (at the base of the mill) + +This sun will go down bloodily for us! +The English, sharply sighed for by Prince Blucher, +Cannot appear. Wellington words across +That hosts have set on him at Quatre-Bras, +And leave him not one bayonet to spare! + + +The truth of this intelligence is apparent. A low dull sound heard +lately from the direction of Quatre-Bras has increased to a roaring +cannonade. The scene abruptly closes. + + + +SCENE VI + +THE FIELD AT QUATRE-BRAS + + [The same day. The view is southward, and the straight gaunt + highway from Brussels (behind the spectator) to Charleroi over + the hills in front, bisects the picture from foreground to + distance. Near at hand, where it is elevated and open, there + crosses it obliquely, at a point called Les Quatre-Bras, another + road which comes from Nivelle, five miles to the gazer's right + rear, and goes to Namur, twenty miles ahead to the left. At a + distance of five or six miles in this latter direction it passes + near the previous scene, Ligny, whence the booming of guns can + be continuously heard. + + Between the cross-roads in the centre of the scene and the far + horizon the ground dips into a hollow, on the other side of which + the same straight road to Charleroi is seen climbing the crest, + and over it till out of sight. From a hill on the right hand of + the mid-distance a large wood, the wood of Bossu, reaches up + nearly to the crossways, which give their name to the buildings + thereat, consisting of a few farm-houses and an inn. + + About three-quarters of a mile off, nearly hidden by the horizon + towards Charleroi, there is also a farmstead, Gemioncourt; another, + Piraumont, stands on an eminence a mile to the left of it, and + somewhat in front of the Namur road.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +As this scene uncovers the battle is beheld to be raging at its +height, and to have reached a keenly tragic phase. WELLINGTON has +returned from Ligny, and the main British and Hanoverian position, +held by the men who marched out of Brussels in the morning, under +officers who danced the previous night at the Duchess's, is along +the Namur road to the left of the perspective, and round the cross- +road itself. That of the French, under Ney, is on the crests further +back, from which they are descending in imposing numbers. Some +advanced columns are assailing the English left, while through the +smoke-hazes of the middle of the field two lines of skirmishers +are seen firing at each other--the southernmost dark blue, the +northernmost dull red. Time lapses till it is past four o'clock. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + The cannonade of the French ordnance-lines + Has now redoubled. Columns new and dense + Of foot, supported by fleet cavalry, + Straightly impinge upon the Brunswick bands + That border the plantation of Bossu. + Above some regiments of the assaulting French + A flag like midnight swims upon the air, + To say no quarter may be looked for there! + + +The Brunswick soldiery, much notched and torn by the French grape- +shot, now lie in heaps. The DUKE OF BRUNSWICK himself, desperate +to keep them steady, lights his pipe, and rides slowly up and down +in front of his lines previous to the charge which follows. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + The French have heaved them on the Brunswickers, + And borne them back. Now comes the Duke's told time. + He gallops at the head of his hussars-- + Those men of solemn and appalling guise, + Full-clothed in black, with nodding hearsy plumes, + A shining silver skull and cross of bones + Set upon each, to byspeak his slain sire. . . . + Concordantly, the expected bullet starts + And finds the living son. + + +BRUNSWICK reels to the ground. His troops, disheartened, lose their +courage and give way. + +The French front columns, and the cavalry supporting them, shout +as they advance. The Allies are forced back upon the English main +position. WELLINGTON is in personal peril for a time, but he escapes +it by a leap of his horse. + +A curtain of smoke drops. An interval. The curtain reascends. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Behold again the Dynasts' gory gear! + Since we regarded, what has progressed here? + + +RECORDING ANGEL (in recitative) + + Musters of English foot and their allies + Came palely panting by the Brussels way, + And, swiftly stationed, checked their counter-braves. + Ney, vexed by lack of like auxiliaries, + Bade then the columned cuirassiers to charge + In all their edged array of weaponcraft. + Yea; thrust replied to thrust, and fire to fire; + The English broke, till Picton prompt to prop them + Sprang with fresh foot-folk from the covering rye. + + Next, Pire's cavalry took up the charge. . . . + And so the action sways. The English left + Is turned at Piraumont; whilst on their right + Perils infest the greenwood of Bossu; + Wellington gazes round with dubious view; + England's long fame in fight seems sepulchered, + And ominous roars swell loudlier Ligny-ward. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + New rage has wrenched the battle since thou'st writ; + Hot-hasting succours of light cannonry + Lately come up, relieve the English stress; + Kellermann's cuirassiers, both man and horse + All plated over with the brass of war, + Are rolling on the highway. More brigades + Of British, soiled and sweltering, now are nigh, + Who plunge within the boscage of Bossu; + Where in the hidden shades and sinuous creeps + Life-struggles can be heard, seen but in peeps. + Therewith the foe's accessions harass Ney, + Racked that no needful d'Erlon darks the way! + + +Inch by inch NEY has to draw off: WELLINGTON promptly advances. At +dusk NEY'S army finds itself back at Frasnes, where he meets D'ERLON +coming up to his assistance, too late. + +The weary English and their allies, who have been on foot ever since +one o'clock the previous morning, prepare to bivouac in front of the +cross-roads. Their fires flash up for a while; and by and by the +dead silence of heavy sleep hangs over them. WELLINGTON goes into +his tent, and the night darkens. + +A Prussian courier from Ligny enters, who is conducted into the tent +to WELLINGTON. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + What tidings can a courier bring that count + Here, where such mighty things are native born? + + +RECORDING ANGEL (in recitative) + + The fury of the tumult there begun + Scourged quivering Ligny through the afternoon: + Napoleon's great intent grew substantive, + And on the Prussian pith and pulse he bent + His foretimed blow. Blucher, to butt the shock, + Called up his last reserves, and heading on, + With blade high brandished by his aged arm, + Spurred forward his white steed. But they, outspent, + Failed far to follow. Darkness coped the sky, + And storm, and rain with thunder. Yet once more + He cheered them on to charge. His horse, the while, + Pierced by a bullet, fell on him it bore. + He, trampled, bruised, faint, and in disarray + Dragged to another mount, was led away. + His ragged lines withdraw from sight and sound, + And their assailants camp upon the ground. + + +The scene shuts with midnight. + + + +SCENE VII + +BRUSSELS. THE PLACE ROYALE + + [The same night, dark and sultry. A crowd of citizens throng the + broad Place. They gaze continually down the Rue de Namur, along + which arrive minute by minute carts and waggons laden with wounded + men. Other wounded limp into the city on foot. At much greater + speed enter fugitive soldiers from the miscellaneous contingents + of WELLINGTON'S army at Quatre-Bras, who gesticulate and explain + to the crowd that all is lost and that the French will soon be in + Brussels. + + Baggage-carts and carriages, with and without horses, stand before + an hotel, surrounded by a medley of English and other foreign + nobility and gentry with their valets and maids. Bulletins from + the battlefield are affixed on the corner of the Place, and people + peer at them by the dim oil lights. + + A rattle of hoofs reaches the ears, entering the town by the same + Namur gate. The riders disclose themselves to be Belgian hussars, + also from the field.] + + +SEVERAL HUSSARS + +The French approach! Wellington is beaten. Bonaparte is at our heels. + + [Consternation reaches a climax. Horses are hastily put-to at the + hotel: people crowd into the carriages and try to drive off. They + get jammed together and hemmed in by the throng. Unable to move + they quarrel and curse despairingly in sundry tongues.] + + +BARON CAPELLEN + +Affix the new bulletin. It is a more assuring one, and may quiet +them a little. + + [A new bulletin is nailed over the old one.] + + +MAYOR + +Good people, calm yourselves. No victory has been won by Bonaparte. +The noise of guns heard all the afternoon became fainter towards the +end, showing beyond doubt that the retreat was away from the city. + + +A CITIZEN + +The French are said to be forty thousand strong at Les Quatre-Bras, +and no forty thousand British marched out against them this morning! + + +ANOTHER CITIZEN + +And it is whispered that the city archives and the treasure-chest +have been sent to Antwerp! + + +MAYOR + +Only as a precaution. No good can be gained by panic. Sixty or +seventy thousand of the Allies, all told, face Napoleon at this +hour. Meanwhile who is to attend to the wounded that are being +brought in faster and faster? Fellow-citizens, do your duty by +these unfortunates, and believe me that when engaged in such an +act of mercy no enemy will hurt you. + + +CITIZENS + +What can we do? + + +MAYOR + +I invite all those who have such, to bring mattresses, sheets, and +coverlets to the Hotel de Ville, also old linen and lint from the +houses of the cures. + + [Many set out on this errand. An interval. Enter a courier, who + speaks to the MAYOR and the BARON CAPELLEN.] + + +BARON CAPELLEN (to Mayor) + +Better inform them immediately, to prevent a panic. + + +MAYOR (to Citizens) + +I grieve to tell you that the Duke of Brunswick, whom you saw ride +out this morning, was killed this afternoon at Les Quatre-Bras. A +musket-ball passed through his bridle-hand and entered his belly. +His body is now arriving. Carry yourselves gravely. + + [A lane is formed in the crowd in the direction of the Rue de + Namur; they wait. Presently an extemporized funeral procession, + with the body of the DUKE on a gun-carriage, and a small escort + of Brunswickers with carbines reversed, comes slowly up the + street, their silver death's-heads shining in the lamplight. + The agitation of the citizens settles into a silent gloom as + the mournful train passes.] + + +MAYOR (to Baron Capellen) + +I noticed the strange look of prepossession on his face at the ball +last night, as if he knew what was going to be. + + +BARON CAPELLEN + +The Duchess mentioned it to me. . . . He hated the French, if any +man ever did, and so did his father before him! Here comes the +English Colonel Hamilton, straight from the field. He will give +us trustworthy particulars. + + [Enter COLONEL HAMILTON by the Rue de Namur. He converses with + the MAYOR and the BARON on the issue of the struggle.] + + +MAYOR + +Now I will go the Hotel de Ville, and get it ready for those wounded +who can find no room in private houses. + + [Exeunt MAYOR, CAPELLEN, D'URSEL, HAMILTON, etc. severally. Many + citizens descend in the direction of the Hotel de Ville to assist. + Those who remain silently watch the carts bringing in the wounded + till a late hour. The doors of houses in the Place and elsewhere + are kept open, and the rooms within lighted, in expectation of + more arrivals from the field. A courier gallops up, who is accosted + by idlers.] + + +COURIER (hastily) + +The Prussians are defeated at Ligny by Napoleon in person. He will +be here to-morrow. + + [Exit courier.] + + +FIRST IDLER + +The devil! Then I am for welcoming him. No Antwerp for me! + + +OTHER IDLERS (sotto voce) + +Vive l'Empereur! + + [A warm summer fog from the Lower Town covers the Parc and the + Place Royale.] + + + +SCENE VIII + +THE ROAD TO WATERLOO + + [The view is now from Quatre-Bras backward along the road by + which the English arrived. Diminishing in a straight line from + the foreground to the centre of the distance it passes over Mont + Saint-Jean and through Waterloo to Brussels. + + It is now tinged by a moving mass of English and Allied infantry, + in retreat to a new position at Mont Saint-Jean. The sun shines + brilliantly upon the foreground as yet, but towards Waterloo and + the Forest of Soignes on the north horizon it is overcast with + black clouds which are steadily advancing up the sky. + + To mask the retreat the English outposts retain their position + on the battlefield in the face of NEY'S troops, and keep up a + desultory firing: the cavalry for the same reason remain, being + drawn up in lines beside the intersecting Namur road. + + + Enter WELLINGTON, UXBRIDGE (who is in charge of the cavalry), + MUFFLING, VIVIAN, and others. They look through their field- + glasses towards Frasnes, NEY'S position since his retreat + yesternight, and also towards NAPOLEON'S at Ligny.] + + +WELLINGTON + +The noonday sun, striking so strongly there, +Makes mirrors of their arms. That they advance +Their glowing radiance shows. Those gleams by Marbais +Suggest fixed bayonets. + + +UXBRIDGE + + Vivian's glass reveals +That they are cuirassiers. Ney's troops, too, near +At last, methinks, along this other road. + + +WELLINGTON + +One thing is sure: that here the whole French force +Schemes to unite and sharply follow us. +It formulates our fence. The cavalry +Must linger here no longer; but recede +To Mont Saint-Jean, as rearguard of the foot. +From the intelligence that Gordon brings +'Tis pretty clear old Blucher had to take +A damned good drubbing yesterday at Ligny, +And has been bent hard back! So that, for us, +Bound to the plighted plan, there is no choice +But do like. . . . No doubt they'll say at home +That we've been well thrashed too. It can't be helped, +They must! . . . (He looks round at the sky.) A heavy rainfall + threatens us, +To make it all the worse! + + [The speaker and his staff ride off along the Brussels road in + the rear of the infantry, and UXBRIDGE begins the retreat of the + cavalry. CAPTAIN MERCER enters with a light battery.] + + +MERCER (excitedly) + + Look back, my lord; +Is it not Bonaparte himself we see +Upon the road I have come by? + + +UXBRIDGE (looking through glass) + + Yes, by God; +His face as clear-cut as the edge of a cloud +The sun behind shows up! His suite and all! +Fire--fire! And aim you well. + + [The battery makes ready and fires.] + + No! It won't do. +He brings on mounted ordnance of his Guard, +So we're in danger here. Then limber up, +And off as soon as may be. + + [The English artillery and cavalry retreat at full speed, just as + the weather bursts, with flashes of lightning and drops of rain. + They all clatter off along the Brussels road, UXBRIDGE and his + aides galloping beside the column; till no British are left at + Quatre-Bras except the slain. + + The focus of the scene follows the retreating English army, the + highway and its and margins panoramically gliding past the vision + of the spectator. The phantoms chant monotonously while the retreat + goes on.] + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + Day's nether hours advance; storm supervenes + In heaviness unparalleled, that screens + With water-woven gauzes, vapour-bred, + The creeping clumps of half-obliterate red-- + Severely harassed past each round and ridge + By the inimical lance. They gain the bridge + And village of Genappe, in equal fence + With weather and the enemy's violence. + --Cannon upon the foul and flooded road, + Cavalry in the cornfields mire-bestrowed, + With frothy horses floundering to their knees, + Make wayfaring a moil of miseries! + Till Britishry and Bonapartists lose + Their clashing colours for the tawny hues + That twilight sets on all its stealing tinct imbues. + + [The rising ground of Mont Saint-Jean, in front of Waterloo, + is gained by the English vanguard and main masses of foot, and + by degrees they are joined by the cavalry and artillery. The + French are but little later in taking up their position amid + the cornfields around La Belle Alliance. + + Fires begin to shine up from the English bivouacs. Camp kettles + are slung, and the men pile arms and stand round the blaze to dry + themselves. The French opposite lie down like dead men in the + dripping green wheat and rye, without supper and without fire. + + By and by the English army also lies down, the men huddling + together on the ploughed mud in their wet blankets, while some + sleep sitting round the dying fires.] + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + The eyelids of eve fall together at last, + And the forms so foreign to field and tree + Lie down as though native, and slumber fast! + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES + + Sore are the thrills of misgiving we see + In the artless champaign at this harlequinade, + Distracting a vigil where calm should be! + + The green seems opprest, and the Plain afraid + Of a Something to come, whereof these are the proofs,-- + Neither earthquake, nor storm, nor eclipses's shade! + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS + + Yea, the coneys are scared by the thud of hoofs, + And their white scuts flash at their vanishing heels, + And swallows abandon the hamlet-roofs. + + The mole's tunnelled chambers are crushed by wheels, + The lark's eggs scattered, their owners fled; + And the hedgehog's household the sapper unseals. + + The snail draws in at the terrible tread, + But in vain; he is crushed by the felloe-rim + The worm asks what can be overhead, + + And wriggles deep from a scene so grim, + And guesses him safe; for he does not know + What a foul red flood will be soaking him! + + Beaten about by the heel and toe + Are butterflies, sick of the day's long rheum, + To die of a worse than the weather-foe. + + Trodden and bruised to a miry tomb + Are ears that have greened but will never be gold, + And flowers in the bud that will never bloom. + + +CHORUS OF THE PITIES + + So the season's intent, ere its fruit unfold, + Is frustrate, and mangled, and made succumb, + Like a youth of promise struck stark and cold! . . . + + And what of these who to-night have come? + + +CHORUS OF THE YEARS + + The young sleep sound; but the weather awakes + In the veterans, pains from the past that numb; + + Old stabs of Ind, old Peninsular aches, + Old Friedland chills, haunt their moist mud bed, + Cramps from Austerlitz; till their slumber breaks. + + +CHORUS OF SINISTER SPIRITS + + And each soul shivers as sinks his head + On the loam he's to lease with the other dead + From to-morrow's mist-fall till Time be sped! + + [The fires of the English go out, and silence prevails, save + for the soft hiss of the rain that falls impartially on both + the sleeping armies.] + + + + +ACT SEVENTH + + +SCENE I + +THE FIELD OF WATERLOO + + [An aerial view of the battlefield at the time of sunrise is + disclosed. + + The sky is still overcast, and rain still falls. A green + expanse, almost unbroken, of rye, wheat, and clover, in oblong + and irregular patches undivided by fences, covers the undulating + ground, which sinks into a shallow valley between the French and + English positions. The road from Brussels to Charleroi runs like + a spit through both positions, passing at the back of the English + into the leafy forest of Soignes. + + The latter are turning out from their bivouacs. They move stiffly + from their wet rest, and hurry to and fro like ants in an ant-hill. + The tens of thousands of moving specks are largely of a brick-red + colour, but the foreign contingent is darker. + + Breakfasts are cooked over smoky fires of green wood. Innumerable + groups, many in their shirt-sleeves, clean their rusty firelocks, + drawing or exploding the charges, scrape the mud from themselves, + and pipeclay from their cross-belts the red dye washed off their + jackets by the rain. + + At six o'clock, they parade, spread out, and take up their positions + in the line of battle, the front of which extends in a wavy riband + three miles long, with three projecting bunches at Hougomont, La + Haye Sainte, and La Haye. + + Looking across to the French positions we observe that after + advancing in dark streams from where they have passed the night + they, too, deploy and wheel into their fighting places--figures + with red epaulettes and hairy knapsacks, their arms glittering + like a display of cutlery at a hill-side fair. + + They assume three concentric lines of crescent shape, that converge + on the English midst, with great blocks of the Imperial Guard at + the back of them. The rattle of their drums, their fanfarades, + and their bands playing "Veillons au salut de l'Empire" contrast + with the quiet reigning on the English side. + + A knot of figures, comprising WELLINGTON with a suite of general + and other staff-officers, ride backwards and forwards in front + of the English lines, where each regimental colour floats in the + hands of the junior ensign. The DUKE himself, now a man of forty- + six, is on his bay charger Copenhagen, in light pantaloons, a + small plumeless hat, and a blue cloak, which shows its white + lining when blown back. + + On the French side, too, a detached group creeps along the front + in preliminary survey. BONAPARTE--also forty-six--in a grey + overcoat, is mounted on his white arab Marengo, and accompanied + by SOULT, NEY, JEROME, DROUOT, and other marshals. The figures + of aides move to and fro like shuttle-cocks between the group + and distant points in the field. The sun has begun to gleam.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Discriminate these, and what they are, + Who stand so stalwartly to war. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Report, ye Rumourers of things near and far. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS (chanting) + + Sweep first the Frenchmen's leftward lines along, + And eye the peaceful panes of Hougomont-- + That seemed to hold prescriptive right of peace + In fee from Time till Time itself should cease!-- + Jarred now by Reille's fierce foot-divisions three, + Flanked on their left by Pire's cavalry.-- + The fourfold corps of d'Erlon, spread at length, + Compose the right, east of the famed chaussee-- + The shelterless Charleroi-and-Brussels way,-- + And Jacquinot's alert light-steeded strength + Still further right, their sharpened swords display. + Thus stands the first line. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Next behind its back + Comes Count Lobau, left of the Brussels track; + Then Domon's horse, the horse of Subervie; + Kellermann's cuirassed troopers twinkle-tipt, + And, backing d'Erlon, Milhaud's horse, equipt + Likewise in burnished steelwork sunshine-dipt: + So ranks the second line refulgently. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + The third and last embattlement reveals + D'Erlon's, Lobau's, and Reille's foot-cannoniers, + And horse-drawn ordnance too, on massy wheels, + To strike with cavalry where space appears. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The English front, to left, as flanking force, + Has Vandeleur's hussars, and Vivian's horse; + Next them pace Picton's rows along the crest; + The Hanoverian foot-folk; Wincke; Best; + Bylandt's brigade, set forward fencelessly, + Pack's northern clansmen, Kempt's tough infantry, + With gaiter, epaulet, spat, and {philibeg}; + While Halkett, Ompteda, and Kielmansegge + Prolong the musters, near whose forward edge + Baring invests the Farm of Holy Hedge. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Maitland and Byng in Cooke's division range, + And round dun Hougomont's old lichened sides + A dense array of watching Guardsmen hides + Amid the peaceful produce of the grange, + Whose new-kerned apples, hairy gooseberries green, + And mint, and thyme, the ranks intrude between.-- + Last, westward of the road that finds Nivelles, + Duplat draws up, and Adam parallel. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The second British line--embattled horse-- + Holds the reverse slopes, screened, in ordered course; + Dornberg's, and Arentsschildt's, and Colquhoun-Grant's, + And left of them, behind where Alten plants + His regiments, come the "Household" Cavalry; + And nigh, in Picton's rear, the trumpets call + The "Union" brigade of Ponsonby. + Behind these the reserves. In front of all, + Or interspaced, with slow-matched gunners manned, + Upthroated rows of threatful ordnance stand. + + [The clock of Nivelles convent church strikes eleven in the + distance. Shortly after, coils of starch-blue smoke burst into + being along the French lines, and the English batteries respond + promptly, in an ominous roar that can be heard at Antwerp. + + A column from the French left, six thousand strong, advances on + the plantation in front of the chateau of Hougomont. They are + played upon by the English ordnance; but they enter the wood, + and dislodge some battalions there. The French approach the + buildings, but are stopped by a loop-holed wall with a mass of + English guards behind it. A deadly fire bursts from these through + the loops and over the summit. + + NAPOLEON orders a battery of howitzers to play upon the building. + Flames soon burst from it; but the foot-guards still hold the + courtyard.] + + + +SCENE II + +THE SAME. THE FRENCH POSITION + + [On a hillock near the farm of Rossomme a small table from the + farmhouse has been placed; maps are spread thereon, and a chair + is beside it. NAPOLEON, SOULT, and other marshals are standing + round, their horses waiting at the base of the slope. + + NAPOLEON looks through his glass at Hougomont. His elevated face + makes itself distinct in the morning light as a gloomy resentful + countenance, blue-black where shaven, and stained with snuff, with + powderings of the same on the breast of his uniform. His stumpy + figure, being just now thrown back, accentuates his stoutness.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Let Reille be warned that these his surly sets +On Hougomont chateau, can scarce defray +Their mounting bill of blood. They do not touch +The core of my intent--to pierce and roll +The centre upon the right of those opposed. +Thereon will turn the outcome of the day, +In which our odds are ninety to their ten! + + +SOULT + +Yes--prove there time and promptitude enough +To call back Grouchy here. Of his approach +I see no sign. + + +NAPOLEON (roughly) + + Hours past he was bid come. +--But naught imports it! We are enough without him. +You have been beaten by this Wellington, +And so you think him great. But let me teach you +Wellington is no foe to reckon with. +His army, too, is poor. This clash to-day +Is more serious for our seasoned files +Than breakfasting. + + +SOULT + + Such is my earnest hope. + + +NAPOLEON + +Observe that Wellington still labours on, +Stoutening his right behind Gomont chateau, +But leaves his left and centre as before-- +Weaker, if anything. He plays our game! + + [WELLINGTON can, in fact, be seen detaching from his main line + several companies of Guards to check the aims of the French on + Hougomont.] + +Let me re-word my tactics. Ney leads off +By seizing Mont Saint-Jean. Then d'Erlon stirs, +And heaves up his division from the left. +The second corps will move abreast of him +The sappers nearing to entrench themselves +Within the aforesaid farm. + + [Enter an aide-de-camp.] + + +AIDE + + From Marshal Ney, +Sire, I bring hasty word that all is poised +To strike the vital stroke, and only waits +Your Majesty's command, + + +NAPOLEON + + Which he shall have +When I have scanned the hills for Grouchy's helms. + + [NAPOLEON turns his glass to an upland four or five miles off on + the right, known as St. Lambert's Chapel Hill. Gazing more and + more intently, he takes rapid pinches of snuff in excitement. + NEY'S columns meanwhile standing for the word to advance, eighty + guns being ranged in front of La Belle Alliance in support of them.] + +I see a darkly crawling, slug-like shape +Embodying far out there,--troops seemingly-- +Grouchy's van-guard. What think you? + + +SOULT (also examining closely) + + Verily troops; +And, maybe, Grouchy's. But the air is hazed. + + +NAPOLEON + +If troops at all, they are Grouchy's. Why misgive, +And force on ills you fear! + + +ANOTHER MARSHAL + + It seems a wood. +Trees don bold outlines in their new-leafed pride. + + +ANOTHER MARSHAL + +It is the creeping shadow from a cloud. + + +ANOTHER MARSHAL + +It is a mass of stationary foot; +I can descry piled arms. + + [NAPOLEON sends off the order for NEY'S attack--the grand assault + on the English midst, including the farm of La Haye Sainte. It + opens with a half-hour's thunderous discharge of artillery, which + ceases at length to let d'Erlon's infantry pass. + + Four huge columns of these, shouting defiantly, push forwards in + face of the reciprocal fire from the cannon of the English. Their + effrontery carries them so near the Anglo-Allied lines that the + latter waver. But PICTON brings up PACK'S brigade, before which + the French in turn recede, though they make an attempt in La Haye + Sainte, whence BARING'S Germans pour a resolute fire. + + WELLINGTON, who is seen afar as one of a group standing by a + great elm, orders OMPTEDA to send assistance to BARING, as may + be gathered from the darting of aides to and fro between the + points, like house-flies dancing their quadrilles. + + East of the great highway the right columns of D'ERLON'S corps + have climbed the slopes. BYLANDT'S sorely exposed Dutch are + broken, and in their flight disorder the ranks of the English + Twenty-eighth, the Carabineers of the Ninety-fifth being also + dislodged from the sand-pit they occupied.] + + +NAPOLEON + +All prospers marvellously! Gomont is hemmed; +La Haye Sainte too; their centre jeopardized; +Travers and d'Erlon dominate the crest, +And further strength of foot is following close. +Their troops are raw; the flower of England's force +That fought in Spain, America now holds.-- + + [SIR TOMAS PICTON, seeing what is happening orders KEMPT'S + brigade forward. It volleys murderously DONZELOT'S columns + of D'ERLON'S corps, and repulses them. As they recede PICTON + is beheld shouting an order to charge.] + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + I catch a voice that cautions Picton now + Against his rashness. "What the hell care I,-- + Is my curst carcase worth a moment's mind?-- + Come on!" he answers. Onwardly he goes! + + [His tall, stern, saturnine figure with its bronzed complexion is + on nearer approach discerned heading the charge. As he advances + to the slope between the cross-roads and the sand-pit, riding very + conspicuously, he falls dead, a bullet in his forehead. His aide, + assisted by a soldier, drags the body beneath a tree and hastens + on. KEMPT takes his command. + + Next MARCOGNET is repulsed by PACK'S brigade. D'ERLON'S infantry + and TRAVERS'S cuirassiers are charged by the Union Brigade of + Scotch(23) Greys, Royal Dragoons, and Inniskillens, and cut down + everywhere, the brigade following them so furiously the LORD + UXBRIDGE tries in vain to recall it. On its coming near the + French it is overwhelmed by MILHAUD'S cuirassiers, scarcely a + fifth of the brigade returning. + + An aide enters to NAPOLEON from GENERAL DOMON.] + + +AIDE + +The General, on a far reconnaissance, +Says, sire, there is no room for longer doubt +That those debouching on St. Lambert's Hill +Are Prussian files. + + +NAPOLEON + + Then where is General Grouchy? + + [Enter COLONEL MARBOT with a prisoner.] + +Aha--a Prussian, too! How comes he here? + + +MARBOT + +Sire, my hussars have captured him near Lasnes-- +A subaltern of the Silesian Horse. +A note from Bulow to Lord Wellington, +Announcing that a Prussian corps is close, +Was found on him. He speaks our language, sire. + + +NAPOLEON (to prisoner) + +What force looms yonder on St. Lambert's Hill? + + +PRISONER + +General Count Bulow's van, your Majesty. + + [A thoughtful scowl crosses NAPOLEONS'S sallow face.] + + +NAPOLEON + +Where, then, did your main army lie last night? + + +PRISONER + +At Wavre. + + +NAPOLEON + + But clashed it with no Frenchmen there? + + +PRISONER + +With none. We deemed they had marched on Plancenoit. + + +NAPOLEON (shortly) + +Take him away. (The prisoner is removed.) Has Grouchy's whereabouts +Been sought, to apprize him of this Prussian trend? + + +SOULT + +Certainly, sire. I sent a messenger. + + +NAPOLEON (bitterly) + +A messenger! Had my poor Berthier been here +Six would have insufficed! Now then: seek Ney; +Bid him to sling the valour of his braves +Fiercely on England ere Count Bulow come; +And advertize the succours on the hill +As Grouchy's. (Aside) This is my one battle-chance; +The Allies have many such! (To SOULT) If Bulow nears, +He cannot join in time to share the fight. +And if he could, 'tis but a corps the more. . . . +This morning we had ninety chances ours, +We have threescore still. If Grouchy but retrieve +His fault of absence, conquest comes with eve! + + [The scene shifts.] + + + +SCENE III + +SAINT LAMBERT'S CHAPEL HILL + + [A hill half-way between Wavre and the fields of Waterloo, five + miles to the north-east of the scene preceding. The hill is + wooded, with some open land around. To the left of the scene, + towards Waterloo, is a valley.] + + +DUMB SHOW + +Marching columns in Prussian uniforms, coming from the direction of +Wavre, debouch upon the hill from the road through the wood. + +They are the advance-guard and two brigades of Bulow's corps, that +have been joined there by BLUCHER. The latter has just risen from +the bed to which he has been confined since the battle of Ligny, +two days back. He still looks pale and shaken by the severe fall +and trampling he endured near the end of the action. + +On the summit the troops halt, and a discussion between BLUCHER and +his staff ensues. + +The cannonade in the direction of Waterloo is growing more and more +violent. BLUCHER, after looking this way and that, decides to fall +upon the French right at Plancenoit as soon as he can get there, +which will not be yet. + +Between this point and that the ground descends steeply to the +valley on the spectator's left, where there is a mud-bottomed +stream, the Lasne; the slope ascends no less abruptly on the other +side towards Plancenoit. It is across this defile alone that the +Prussian army can proceed thither- a route of unusual difficulty +for artillery; where, moreover, the enemy is suspected of having +placed a strong outpost during the night to intercept such an +approach. + +A figure goes forward--that of MAJOR FALKENHAUSEN, who is sent to +reconnoitre, and they wait a tedious time, the firing at Waterloo +growing more tremendous. FALKENHAUSEN comes back with the welcome +news that no outpost is there. + +There now remains only the difficulty of the defile itself; and the +attempt is made. BLUCHER is descried riding hither and thither as +the guns drag heavily down the slope into the muddy bottom of the +valley. Here the wheels get stuck, and the men already tired by +marching since five in the morning, seem inclined to leave the guns +where they are. But the thunder from Waterloo still goes on, BLUCHER +exhorts his men by words and eager gestures, and they do at length +get the guns across, though with much loss of time. + +The advance-guard now reaches some thick trees called the Wood of +Paris. It is followed by the LOSTHIN and HILLER divisions of foot, +and in due course by the remainder of the two brigades. Here they +halt, and await the arrival of the main body of BULOW'S corps, and +the third corps under THIELEMANN. + +The scene shifts. + + + +SCENE IV + +THE FIELD OF WATERLOO. THE ENGLISH POSITION + + [WELLINGTON, on Copenhagen, is again under the elm-tree behind La + Haye Sainte. Both horse and rider are covered with mud-splashes, + but the weather having grown finer the DUKE has taken off his cloak. + + UXBRIDGE, FITZROY SOMERSET, CLINTON, ALTEN, COLVILLE, DE LANCEY, + HERVEY, GORDON, and other of his staff officers and aides are + near him; there being also present GENERALS MUFFLING, HUGEL, and + ALAVA; also TYLER, PICTON'S aide. The roar of battle continues.] + + +WELLINGTON + +I am grieved at losing Picton; more than grieved. +He was as grim a devil as ever lived, +And roughish-mouthed withal. But never a man +More stout in fight, more stoical in blame! + + +TYLER + +Before he left for this campaign he said, +"When you shall hear of MY death, mark my words, +You'll hear of a bloody day!" and, on my soul, +'Tis true. + + [Enter another aide-de-camp.] + + +AIDE + +Sir William Ponsonby, my lords, has fallen. +His horse got mud-stuck in a new-plowed plot, +Lancers surrounded him and bore him down, +And six then ran him through. The occasion sprung +Mainly from the Brigade's too reckless rush, +Sheer to the French front line. + + +WELLINGTON (gravely) + + Ah--so it comes! +The Greys were bound to pay--'tis always so-- +Full dearly for their dash so far afield. +Valour unballasted but lands its freight +On the enemy's shore.--What has become of Hill? + + +AIDE + +We have not seen him latterly, your Grace. + + +WELLINGTON + +By God, I hope I haven't lost him, too? + + +BRIDGMAN (just come up) + +Lord Hill's bay charger, being shot dead, your Grace, +Rolled over him in falling. He is bruised, +But hopes to be in place again betimes. + + +WELLINGTON + +Praise Fate for thinking better of that frown! + + [It is now nearing four o'clock. La Haye Sainte is devastated by + the second attack of NEY. The farm has been enveloped by DONZELOT'S + division, its garrison, the King's German Legion, having fought + till all ammunition was exhausted. The gates are forced open, and + in the retreat of the late defenders to the main Allied line they + are nearly all cut or shot down.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + O Farm of sad vicissitudes and strange! + Farm of the Holy Hedge, yet fool of change! + Whence lit so sanct a name on thy now violate grange? + + +WELLINGTON (to Muffling, resolutely) + +Despite their fierce advantage here, I swear +By every God that war can call upon +To hold our present place at any cost, +Until your force cooperate with our lines! +To that I stand; although 'tis bruited now +That Bulow's corps has only reached Ohain. +I've sent Freemantle hence to seek them there, +And give them inkling we shall need them soon. + + +MUFFLING (looking at his watch) + +I had hoped that Blucher would be here ere this. + + [The staff turn their glasses on the French position.] + + +UXBRIDGE + +What movement can it be they contemplate? + + +WELLINGTON + +A shock of cavalry on the hottest scale, +It seems to me. . . . (To aide) Bid him to reinforce +The front line with some second-line brigades; +Some, too, from the reserve. + + [The Brunswickers advance to support MAITLAND'S Guards, and the + MITCHELL and ADAM Brigades establish themselves above Hougomont, + which is still in flames. + + NEY, in continuation of the plan of throwing his whole force + on the British centre before the advent of the Prussians, now + intensifies his onslaught with the cavalry. Terrific discharges + of artillery initiate it to clear the ground. A heavy round- + shot dashes through the tree over the heads of WELLINGTON and + his generals, and boughs and leaves come flying down on them.] + + +WELLINGTON + +Good practice that! I vow they did not fire +So dexterously in Spain. (He calls up an aide.) Bid Ompteda +Direct the infantry to lie tight down +On the reverse ridge-slope, to screen themselves +While these close shots and shells are teasing us; +When the charge comes they'll cease. + + [The order is carried out. NEY'S cavalry attack now matures. + MILHAUD'S cuirassiers in twenty-four squadrons advance down the + opposite decline, followed and supported by seven squadrons of + chasseurs under DESNOETTES. They disappear for a minute in the + hollow between the armies.] + + +UXBRIDGE + +Ah--now we have got their long-brewed plot explained! + + +WELLINGTON (nodding) + +That this was rigged for some picked time to-day +I had inferred. But that it would be risked +Sheer on our lines, while still they stand unswayed, +In conscious battle-trim, I reckoned not. +It looks a madman's cruel enterprise! + + +FITZROY SOMERSET + +We have just heard that Ney embarked on it +Without an order, ere its aptness riped. + + +WELLINGTON + +It may be so: he's rash. And yet I doubt. +I know Napoleon. If the onset fail +It will be Ney's; if it succeed he'll claim it! + + [A dull reverberation of the tread of innumerable hoofs comes + from behind the hill, and the foremost troops rise into view.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Behold the gorgeous coming of those horse, + Accoutered in kaleidoscopic hues + That would persuade us war has beauty in it!-- + Discern the troopers' mien; each with the air + Of one who is himself a tragedy: + The cuirassiers, steeled, mirroring the day; + Red lancers, green chasseurs: behind the blue + The red; the red before the green: + A lingering-on till late in Christendom, + Of the barbaric trick to terrorize + The foe by aspect! + + [WELLINGTON directs his glass to an officer in a rich uniform + with many decorations on his breast, who rides near the front + of the approaching squadrons. The DUKE'S face expresses + admiration.] + + +WELLINGTON + +It's Marshal Ney himself who heads the charge. +The finest cavalry commander, he, +That wears a foreign plume; ay, probably +The whole world through! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + And when that matchless chief + Sentenced shall lie to ignominious death + But technically deserved, no finger he + Who speaks will lift to save him.! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + To his shame. + We must discount war's generous impulses + I sadly see. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Be mute, and let spin on + This whirlwind of the Will! + + [As NEY'S cavalry ascends the English position the swish of the + horses' breasts through the standing corn can be heard, and the + reverberation of hoofs increases in strength. The English gunners + stand with their portfires ready, which are seen glowing luridly + in the daylight. There is comparative silence.] + + +A VOICE + +Now, captains, are you loaded? + + +CAPTAINS + + Yes, my lord. + + +VOICE + +Point carefully, and wait till their whole height +Shows above the ridge. + + [When the squadrons rise in full view, within sixty yards of the + cannon-mouths, the batteries fire, with a concussion that shakes + the hill itself. Their shot punch holes through the front ranks + of the cuirassiers, and horse and riders fall in heaps. But they + are not stopped, hardly checked, galloping up to the mouths of the + guns, passing between the pieces, and plunging among the Allied + infantry behind the ridge, who, with the advance of the horsemen, + have sprung up from their prone position and formed into squares.] + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + Ney guides the fore-front of the carabineers + Through charge and charge, with rapid recklessness. + Horses, cuirasses, sabres, helmets, men, + Impinge confusedly on the pointed prongs + Of the English kneeling there, whose dim red shapes + Behind their slanted steel seem trampled flat + And sworded to the sward. The charge recedes, + And lo, the tough lines rank there as before, + Save that they are shrunken. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Hero of heroes, too, + Ney, (not forgetting those who gird against him).-- + Simple and single-souled lieutenant he; + Why should men's many-valued motions take + So barbarous a groove! + + [The cuirassiers and lancers surge round the English and Allied + squares like waves, striking furiously on them and well-nigh + breaking them. They stand in dogged silence amid the French + cheers.] + + +WELLINGTON (to the nearest square) + +Hard pounding this, my men! I truly trust +You'll pound the longest! + + +SQUARE + + Hip-hip-hip-hurrah! + + +MUFFLING (again referring to his watch) + +However firmly they may stand, in faith, +Their firmness must have bounds to it, because +There are bounds to human strength! . . . Your, Grace, +To leftward now, to spirit Zieten on. + + +WELLINGTON + +Good. It is time! I think he well be late, +However, in the field. + + [MUFFLING goes. Enter an aide, breathless.] + + +AIDE + +Your Grace, the Ninety-fifth are patience-spent +With standing under fire so passing long. +They writhe to charge--or anything but stand! + + +WELLINGTON + +Not yet. They shall have at 'em later on. +At present keep them firm. + + [Exit aide. The Allied squares stand like little red-brick castles, + independent of each other, and motionless except at the dry hurried + command "Close up!" repeated every now and then as they are slowly + thinned. On the other hand, under their firing and bayonets a + disorder becomes apparent among the charging horse, on whose + cuirasses the bullets snap like stones on window-panes. At this + the Allied cavalry waiting in the rear advance; and by degrees they + deliver the squares from their enemies, who are withdrawn to their + own position to prepare for a still more strenuous assault. The + point of view shifts.] + + + +SCENE V + +THE SAME. THE WOMEN'S CAMP NEAR MONT SAINT-JEAN + + [On the sheltered side of a clump of trees at the back of the + English position camp-fires are smouldering. Soldiers' wives, + mistresses, and children from a few months to five or six years + of age, sit on the ground round the fires or on armfuls of straw + from the adjoining farm. Wounded soldiers lie near the women. + The wind occasionally brings the smoke and smell of battle into + the encampment, the noise being continuous. Two waggons stand + near; also a surgeon's horse in charge of a batman, laden with + bone-saws, knives, probes, tweezers, and other surgical instruments. + Behind lies a woman who has just given birth to a child, which a + second woman is holding. + + Many of the other women are shredding lint, the elder children + assisting. Some are dressing the slighter wounds of the soldiers + who have come in here instead of going further. Along the road + near is a continual procession of bearers of wounded men to the + rear. The occupants of the camp take hardly any notice of the + thundering of the cannon. A camp-follower is playing a fiddle + near. Another woman enters.] + + +WOMAN + +There's no sign of my husband any longer. His battalion is half-a- +mile from where it was. He looked back as they wheeled off towards +the fighting-line, as much as to say, "Nancy, if I don't see 'ee +again, this is good-bye, my dear." Yes, poor man! . . . Not but +what 'a had a temper at times! + + +SECOND WOMAN + +I'm out of all that. My husband--as I used to call him for form's +sake--is quiet enough. He was wownded at Quarter-Brass the day +before yesterday, and died the same night. But I didn't know it +till I got here, and then says I, "Widder or no widder, I mean to +see this out." + + [A sergeant staggers in with blood dropping from his face.] + + +SERGEANT + +Damned if I think you will see it out, mis'ess, for if I don't +mistake there'll be a retreat of the whole army on Brussels soon. +We can't stand much longer!--For the love of God, have ye got a +cup of water, if nothing stronger? (They hand a cup.) + + +THIRD WOMAN (entering and sinking down) + +The Lord send that I may never see again what I've been seeing while +looking for my poor galliant Joe! The surgeon asked me to lend a +hand; and 'twas worse than opening innerds at a pig-killing! (She +faints.) + + +FOURTH WOMAN (to a little girl) + +Never mind her, my dear; come and help me with this one. (She goes +with the girl to a soldier in red with buff facings who lies some +distance off.) Ah--'tis no good. He's gone. + + +GIRL + +No, mother. His eyes are wide open, a-staring to get a sight of +the battle! + + +FOURTH WOMAN + +That's nothing. Lots of dead ones stare in that silly way. It +depends upon where they were hit. I was all through the Peninsula; +that's how I know. (She covers the horny gaze of the man. Shouts +and louder discharges are heard.)--Heaven's high tower, what's that? + + + [Enter an officer's servant.(24)] + + +SERVANT + +Waiting with the major's spare hoss--up to my knees in mud from +the rain that had come down like baccy-pipe stems all the night +and morning--I have just seen a charge never beholded since the +days of the Amalekites! The squares still stand, but Ney's cavalry +have made another attack. Their swords are streaming with blood, +and their horses' hoofs squash out our poor fellow's bowels as they +lie. A ball has sunk in Sir Thomas Picton's forehead and killed him +like Goliath the Philistine. I don't see what's to stop the French. +Well, it's the Lord's doing and marvellous in our eyes. Hullo, +who's he? (They look towards the road.) A fine hale old gentleman, +isn't he? What business has a man of that sort here? + + [Enter, on the highway near, the DUKE OF RICHMOND in plain clothes, + on horseback, accompanied by two youths, his sons. They draw + rein on an eminence, and gaze towards the battlefields.] + + +RICHMOND (to son) + +Everything looks as bad as possible just now. I wonder where your +brother is? However, we can't go any nearer. . . . Yes, the bat- +horses are already being moved off, and there are more and more +fugitives. A ghastly finish to your mother's ball, by Gad if it +isn't! + + [They turn their horses towards Brussels. Enter, meeting them, + MR. LEGH, a Wessex gentleman, also come out to view the battle.] + + +LEGH + +Can you tell me, sir, how the battle is going? + + +RICHMOND + +Badly, badly, I fear, sir. There will be a retreat soon, seemingly. + + +LEGH + +Indeed! Yes, a crowd of fugitives are coming over the hill even now. +What will these poor women do? + + +RICHMOND + +God knows! They will be ridden over, I suppose. Though it is +extraordinary how they do contrive to escape destruction while +hanging so close to the rear of an action! They are moving, +however. Well, we will move too. + + [Exeunt DUKE OF RICHMOND, sons, and MR. LEGH. The point of view + shifts.] + + + +SCENE VI + +THE SAME. THE FRENCH POSITION + + [NEY'S charge of cavalry against the opposite upland has been + three times renewed without success. He collects the scattered + squadrons to renew it a fourth time. The glittering host again + ascends the confronting slopes over the bodies of those previously + left there, and amid horses wandering about without riders, or + crying as they lie with entrails trailing or limbs broken.] + +NAPOLEON (starting up) + +A horrible dream has gripped me--horrible! +I saw before me Lannes--just as he looked +That day at Aspern: mutilated, bleeding! +"What--blood again?" he said to me. "Still blood?" + + [He further arouses himself, takes snuff vehemently, and looks + through his glass.] + +What time is it?--Ah, these assaults of Ney's! +They are a blunder; they've been enterprised +An hour too early! . . . There Lheritier goes +Onward with his division next Milhaud; +Now Kellermann must follow up with his. +So one mistake makes many. Yes; ay; yes! + + +SOULT + +I fear that Ney has compromised us here +Just as at Jena; even worse! + + +NAPOLEON + + No less +Must we support him now he is launched on it. . . . +The miracle is that he is still alive! + + [NEY and his mass of cavalry again pass the English batteries + and disappear amid the squares beyond.] + +Their cannon are abandoned; and their squares +Again environed--see! I would to God +Murat could be here! Yet I disdained +His proffered service. . . . All my star asks now +Is to break some half-dozen of those blocks +Of English yonder. He was the man to do it. + + [NEY and D'ERLON'S squadrons are seen emerging from the English + squares in a disorganized state, the attack having failed like + the previous ones. An aide-de-camp enters to NAPOLEON.] + + +AIDE + +The Prussians have debouched on our right rear +From Paris-wood; and Losthin's infantry +Appear by Plancenoit; Hiller's to leftwards. +Two regiments of their horse protect their front, +And three light batteries. + + [A haggard shade crosses NAPOLEON'S face.] + + +NAPOLEON + +What then! That's not a startling force as yet. +A counter-stroke by Domon's cavalry +Must shatter them. Lobau must bring his foot +Up forward, heading for the Prussian front, +Unrecking losses by their cannonade. + + [Exit aide. The din of battle continues. DOMON'S horse are soon + seen advancing towards and attacking the Prussian hussars in front + of the infantry; and he next attempts to silence the Prussian + batteries playing on him by leading up his troops and cutting + down the gunners. But he has to fall back upon the infantry + of LOBAU. Enter another aide-de-camp.] + + +AIDE + +These tiding I report, your Majesty:-- +Von Ryssel's and von Hacke's Prussian foot +Have lately sallied from the Wood of Paris, +Bearing on us; no vast array as yet; +But twenty thousand loom not far behind +These vanward marchers! + + +NAPOLEON + + Ah! They swarm thus thickly? +But be they hell's own legions we'll defy them!-- +Lobau's men will stand firm. + + [He looks in the direction of the English lines, where NEY'S + cavalry-assaults still linger furiously on.] + + But who rides hither, +Spotting the sky with clods in his high haste? + + +SOULT + +It looks like Colonel Heymes--come from Ney. + + +NAPOLEON (sullenly) + +And his face shows what clef his music's in! + + [Enter COLONEL HEYMES, blood-stained, muddy, and breathless.] + + +HEYMES + +The Prince of Moscow, sire, the Marshal Ney, +Bids me implore that infantry be sent +Immediately, to further his attack. +They cannot be dispensed with, save we fail! + + +NAPOLEON (furiously) + +Infantry! Where the sacred God thinks he +I can find infantry for him! Forsooth, +Does he expect me to create them--eh? +Why sends he such a message, seeing well +How we are straitened here! + + +HEYMES + + Such was the prayer +Of my commission, sire. And I say +That I myself have seen his strokes must waste +Without such backing. + + +NAPOLEON + + Why? + + +HEYMES + + Our cavalry +Lie stretched in swathes, fronting the furnace-throats +Of the English cannon as a breastwork built +Of reeking copses. Marshal Ney's third horse +Is shot. Besides the slain, Donop, Guyot, +Lheritier, Piquet, Travers, Delort, more, +Are vilely wounded. On the other hand +Wellington has sought refuge in a square, +Few of his generals are not killed or hit, +And all is tickle with him. But I see, +Likewise, that I can claim no reinforcement, +And will return and say so. + + [Exit HEYMES] + + +NAPOLEON (to Soult, sadly) + + Ney does win me! +I fain would strengthen him.--Within an ace +Of breaking down the English as he is, +'Twould write upon the sunset "Victory!"-- +But whom may spare we from the right here now? +So single man! + + [An interval.] + + Life's curse begins, I see, +With helplessness! . . . All I can compass is +To send Durutte to fall on Papelotte, +And yet more strongly occupy La Haye, +To cut off Bulow's right from bearing up +And checking Ney's attack. Further than this +None but the Gods can scheme! + + [SOULT hastily begins writing orders to that effect. The point + of view shifts.] + + + +SCENE VII + +THE SAME. THE ENGLISH POSITION + + [The din of battle continues. WELLINGTON, UXBRIDGE, HILL, DE + LANCEY, GORDON, and others discovered near the middle of the line.] + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + It is a moment when the steadiest pulse + Thuds pit-a-pat. The crisis shapes and nears + For Wellington as for his counter-chief. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + The hour is shaking him, unshakeable + As he may seem! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Know'st not at this stale time + That shaken and unshaken are alike + But demonstrations from the Back of Things? + Must I again reveal It as It hauls + The halyards of the world? + + [A transparency as in earlier scenes again pervades the spectacle, + and the ubiquitous urging of the Immanent Will becomes visualized. + The web connecting all the apparently separate shapes includes + WELLINGTON in its tissue with the rest, and shows him, like them, + as acting while discovering his intention to act. By the lurid + light the faces of every row, square, group, and column of men, + French and English, wear the expression of that of people in a + dream.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES (tremulously) + + Yea, sire; I see. + Disquiet me, pray, no more! + + [The strange light passes, and the embattled hosts on the field + seem to move independently as usual.] + + +WELLINGTON (to Uxbridge) + +Manoeuvring does not seem to animate +Napoleon's methods now. Forward he comes, +And pounds away on us in the ancient style, +Till he is beaten back in the ancient style; +And so the see-saw sways! + + [The din increases. WELLINGTON'S aide-de-camp, Sir A. GORDON, + a little in his rear, falls mortally wounded. The DUKE turns + quickly.] + + But where is Gordon? +Ah--hit is he! That's bad, that's bad, by God. + + [GORDON is removed. An aide enters.] + + +AIDE + +Your Grace, the Colonel Ompteda has fallen, +And La Haye Sainte is now a bath of blood. +Nothing more can be done there, save with help. +The Rifles suffer sharply! + + [An aide is seen coming from KEMPT.] + + +WELLINGTON + + What says he? + + +DE LANCEY + +He says that Kempt, being riddled through and thinned, +Sends him for reinforcements. + + +WELLINGTON (with heat) + + Reinforcements? +And where am I to get him reinforcements +In Heaven's name! I've no reinforcements here, +As he should know. + + +AIDE (hesitating) + + What's to be done, your Grace? + + +WELLINGTON + +Done? Those he has left him, be they many or few, +Fight till they fall, like others in the field! + + [Exit aide. The Quartermaster-General DE LANCEY, riding by + WELLINGTON, is struck by a lobbing shot that hurls him over + the head of his horse. WELLINGTON and others go to him.] + + +DE LANCEY (faintly) + +I may as well be left to die in peace! + + +WELLINGTON + +He may recover. Take him to the rear, +And call the best attention up to him. + + [DE LANCEY is carried off. The next moment a shell bursts close + to WELLINGTON.] + + +HILL (approaching) + +I strongly feel you stand too much exposed! + + +WELLINGTON + +I know, I know. It matters not one damn! +I may as well be shot as not perceive +What ills are raging here. + + +HILL + + Conceding such, +And as you may be ended momently, +A truth there is no blinking, what commands +Have you to leave me, should fate shape it so? + + +WELLINGTON + +These simply: to hold out unto the last, +As long as one man stands on one lame leg +With one ball in his pouch!--then end as I. + + [He rides on slowly with the others. NEY'S charges, though + fruitless so far, are still fierce. His troops are now reduced + to one-half. Regiments of the BACHELU division, and the JAMIN + brigade, are at last moved up to his assistance. They are partly + swept down by the Allied batteries, and partly notched away by + the infantry, the smoke being now so thick that the position of + the battalions is revealed only by the flashing of the priming- + pans and muzzles, and by the furious oaths heard behind the cloud. + WELLINGTON comes back. Enter another aide-de-camp.] + + +AIDE + +We bow to the necessity of saying +That our brigade is lessened to one-third, +Your Grace. And those who are left alive of it +Are so unmuscled by fatigue and thirst +That some relief, however temporary, +Becomes sore need. + + +WELLINGTON + + Inform your general +That his proposal asks the impossible! +That he, I, every Englishman afield, +Must fall upon the spot we occupy, +Our wounds in front. + + +AIDE + + It is enough, your Grace. +I answer for't that he, those under him, +And I withal, will bear us as you say. + + [Exit aide. The din of battle goes on. WELLINGTON is grave but + calm. Like those around him, he is splashed to the top of his hat + with partly dried mire, mingled with red spots; his face is grimed + in the same way, little courses showing themselves where the sweat + has trickled down from his brow and temples.] + + +CLINTON (to Hill) + +A rest would do our chieftain no less good, +In faith, than that unfortunate brigade! +He is tried damnably; and much more strained +Than I have ever seen him. + + +HILL + + Endless risks +He's running likewise. What the hell would happen +If he were shot, is more than I can say! + + +WELLINGTON (calling to some near) + +At Talavera, Salamanca, boys, +And at Vitoria, we saw smoke together; +And though the day seems wearing doubtfully, +Beaten we must not be! What would they say +Of us at home, if so? + + +A CRY (from the French) + + Their centre breaks! +Vive l'Empereur! + + [It comes from the FOY and BACHELU divisions, which are rushing + forward. HALKETT'S and DUPLAT'S brigades intercept. DUPLAT + falls, shot dead; but the venturesome French regiments, pierced + with converging fires, and cleft with shells, have to retreat.] + + +HILL (joining Wellington) + + The French artillery-fire +To the right still renders regiments restive there +That have to stand. The long exposure galls them. + + +WELLINGTON + +They must be stayed as our poor means afford. +I have to bend attention steadfastly +Upon the centre here. The game just now +Goes all against us; and if staunchness fail +But for one moment with these thinning foot, +Defeat succeeds! + + [The battle continues to sway hither and thither with concussions, + wounds, smoke, the fumes of gunpowder, and the steam from the hot + viscera of grape-torn horses and men. One side of a Hanoverian + square is blown away; the three remaining sides form themselves + into a triangle. So many of his aides are cut down that it is + difficult for WELLINGTON to get reports of what is happening + afar. It begins to be discovered at the front that a regiment of + hussars, and others without ammunition, have deserted, and that + some officers in the rear, honestly concluding the battle to be + lost, are riding quietly off to Brussels. Those who are left + unwounded of WELLINGTON'S staff show gloomy misgivings at such + signs, despite their own firmness.] + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + One needs must be a ghost + To move here in the midst 'twixt host and host! + Their balls scream brisk and breezy tunes through me + As I were an organ-stop. It's merry so; + What damage mortal flesh must undergo! + + [A Prussian officer enters to MUFFLING, who has again rejoined + the DUKE'S suite. MUFFLING hastens forward to WELLINGTON.] + + +MUFFLING + +Blucher has just begun to operate; +But owing to Gneisenau's stolid stagnancy +The body of our army looms not yet! +As Zieten's corps still plod behind Smohain +Their coming must be late. Blucher's attack +Strikes the remote right rear of the enemy, +Somewhere by Plancenoit. + + +WELLINGTON + + A timely blow; +But would that Zieten sped! Well, better late +Than never. We'll still stand. + + [The point of observation shifts.] + + + +SCENE VIII + +THE SAME. LATER + + [NEY'S long attacks on the centre with cavalry having failed, + those left of the squadrons and their infantry-supports fall + back pell-mell in broken groups across the depression between + the armies. + + Meanwhile BULOW, having engaged LOBAU'S Sixth Corps, carries + Plancenoit. + + The artillery-fire between the French and the English continues. + An officer of the Third Foot-guards comes up to WELLINGTON and + those of his suite that survive.] + + +OFFICER + +Our Colonel Canning--coming I know not whence-- + + +WELLINGTON + +I lately sent him with important words +To the remoter lines. + + +OFFICER + + As he returned +A grape-shot struck him in the breast; he fell, +At once a dead man. General Halkett, too, +Has had his cheek shot through, but still keeps going. + + +WELLINGTON + +And how proceeds De Lancey? + + +OFFICER + + I am told +That he forbids the surgeons waste their time +On him, who well can wait till worse are eased. + + +WELLINGTON + +A noble fellow. + + [NAPOLEON can now be seen, across the valley, pushing forward a + new scheme of some sort, urged to it obviously by the visible + nearing of further Prussian corps. The EMPEROR is as critically + situated as WELLINGTON, and his army is now formed in a right + angle ("en potence"), the main front to the English, the lesser + to as many of the Prussians as have yet arrived. His gestures + show him to be giving instructions of desperate import to a + general whom he has called up.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + He bids La Bedoyere to speed away + Along the whole sweep of the surging line, + And there announce to the breath-shotten bands + Who toil for a chimaera trustfully, + With seventy pounds of luggage on their loins, + That the dim Prussian masses seen afar + Are Grouchy's three-and-thirty thousand, come + To clinch a victory. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + But Ney demurs! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Ney holds indignantly that such a feint + Is not war-worthy. Says Napoleon then, + Snuffing anew, with sour sardonic scowl, + That he is choiceless. + + +SPIRIT SINISTER + + Excellent Emperor! + He tops all human greatness; in that he + To lesser grounds of greatness adds the prime, + Of being without a conscience. + + [LA BEDOYERE and orderlies start on their mission. The false + intelligence is seen to spread, by the excited motion of the + columns, and the soldiers can be heard shouting as their spirits + revive. + + WELLINGTON is beginning to discern the features of the coming + onset, when COLONEL FRASER rides up.] + + +FRASER + +We have just learnt from a deserting captain, +One of the carabineers who charged of late, +That an assault which dwarfs all instances-- +The whole Imperial Guard in welded weight-- +Is shortly to be made. + + +WELLINGTON + + For your smart speed +My thanks. My observation is confirmed. +We'll hasten now along the battle-line (to Staff), +As swiftest means for giving orders out +Whereby to combat this. + + [The speaker, accompanied by HILL, UXBRIDGE, and others--all now + looking as worn and besmirched as the men in the ranks--proceed + along the lines, and dispose the brigades to meet the threatened + shock. The infantry are brought out of the shelter they have + recently sought, the cavalry stationed in the rear, and the + batteries of artillery hitherto kept in reserve are moved to the + front. + + The last Act of the battle begins. + + There is a preliminary attack by DONZELOT'S columns, combined + with swarms of sharpshooters, to the disadvantage of the English + and their Allies. WELLINGTON has scanned it closely. FITZROY + SOMERSET, his military secretary, comes up.] + + +WELLINGTON + +What casualty has thrown its shade among +The regiments of Nassau, to shake them so? + + +SOMERSET + +The Prince of Orange has been badly struck-- +A bullet through his shoulder--so they tell; +And Kielmansegge has shown some signs of stress. +Kincaird's tried line wanes leaner and more lean-- +Whittled to a weak skein of skirmishers; +The Twenty-seventh lie dead. + + +WELLINGTON + + Ah yes--I know! + + [While they watch developments a cannon-shot passes and knocks + SOMERSET'S right arm to a mash. He is assisted to the rear. + + NEY and FRIANT now lead forward the last and most desperate + assault of the day, in charges of the Old and Middle Guard, + the attack by DONZELOT and ALLIX further east still continuing as + a support. It is about a quarter-past eight, and the midsummer + evening is fine after the wet night and morning, the sun approaching + its setting in a sky of gorgeous colours. + + The picked and toughened Guard, many of whom stood in the ranks + at Austerlitz and Wagram, have been drawn up in three or four + echelons, the foremost of which now advances up the slopes to + the Allies' position. The others follow at intervals, the + drummers beating the "pas de charge."] + + +CHORUS OF RUMOURS (aerial music) + + Twice thirty throats of couchant cannonry-- + Ranked in a hollow curve, to close their blaze + Upon the advancing files--wait silently + Like to black bulls at gaze. + + The Guard approaches nearer and more near: + To touch-hole moves each match of smoky sheen: + The ordnance roars: the van-ranks disappear + As if wiped off the scene. + + The aged Friant falls as it resounds; + Ney's charger drops--his fifth on this sore day-- + Its rider from the quivering body bounds + And forward foots his way. + + The cloven columns tread the English height, + Seize guns, repulse battalions rank by rank, + While horse and foot artillery heavily bite + Into their front and flank. + + It nulls the power of a flesh-built frame + To live within that zone of missiles. Back + The Old Guard, staggering, climbs to whence it came. + The fallen define its track. + + [The second echelon of the Imperial Guard has come up to the + assault. Its columns have borne upon HALKETT'S right. HALKETT, + desperate to keep his wavering men firm, himself seizes and + waves the flag of the Thirty-third, in which act he falls wounded. + But the men rally. Meanwhile the Fifty-second, covered by the + Seventy-first, has advanced across the front, and charges the + Imperial Guard on the flank. + + The third echelon next arrives at the English lines and squares; + rushes through the very focus of their fire, and seeing nothing + more in front, raises a shout. + + +IMPERIAL GUARD + +The Emperor! It's victory! + + +WELLINGTON + + Stand up, Guards! +Form line upon the front face of the square! + + [Two thousand of MAITLAND'S Guards, hidden in the hollow roadway, + thereupon spring up, form as ordered, and reveal themselves as a + fence of leveled firelocks four deep. The flints click in a + multitude, the pans flash, and volley after volley is poured into + the bear-skinned figures of the massed French, who kill COLONEL + D'OYLEY in returning fire.] + + +WELLINGTON + +Now drive the fellows in! Go on; go on! +You'll do it now! + + [COLBORNE converges on the French guard with the Fifty-second, and + The former splits into two as the climax comes. ADAM, MAITLAND, + and COLBORNE pursue their advantage. The Imperial columns are + broken, and their confusion is increased by grape-shot from + BOLTON'S battery.] + + Campbell, this order next: +Vivian's hussars are to support, and bear +Against the cavalry towards Belle Alliance. +Go--let him know. + + [Sir C. CAMPBELL departs with the order. Soon VIVIAN'S and + VANDELEUR'S light horse are seen advancing, and in due time the + French cavalry are rolled back. + + WELLINGTON goes in the direction of the hussars with UXBRIDGE. A + cannon-shot hisses past.] + + +UXBRIDGE (starting) + + I have lost my leg, by God! + + +WELLINGTON + +By God, and have you! Ay--the wind o' the shot +Blew past the withers of my Copenhagen +Like the foul sweeping of a witch's broom.-- +Aha--they are giving way! + + [While UXBRIDGE is being helped to the rear, WELLINGTON makes a + sign to SALTOUN, Colonel of the First Footguards.] + + +SALTOUN (shouting) + + Boys, now's your time; +Forward and win! + + +FRENCH VOICES + +The Guard gives way--we are beaten! + + [They recede down the hill, carrying confusion into NAPOLEON'S + centre just as the Prussians press forward at a right angle from + the other side of the field. NAPOLEON is seen standing in the + hollow beyond La Haye Sainte, alone, except for the presence of + COUNT FLAHAULT, his aide-de-camp. His lips move with sudden + exclamation. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + He says "Now all is lost! The clocks of the world + Strike my last empery-hour." + + [Towards La Haye Sainte the French of DONZELOT and ALLIX, who + are fighting KEMPT, PACK, KRUSE, and LAMBERT, seeing what has + happened to the Old and Middle Guard, lose heart and recede + likewise; so that the whole French line rolls back like a tide. + Simultaneously the Prussians are pressing forward at Papelotte + and La Haye. The retreat of the French grows into a panic.] + + +FRENCH VOICES (despairingly) + + We are betrayed! + + [WELLINGTON rides at a gallop to the most salient point of the + English position, halts, and waves his hat as a signal to all + the army. The sign is answered by a cheer along the length of + the line.] + + +WELLINGTON + +No cheering yet, my lads; but bear ahead, +Before the inflamed face of the west out there +Dons blackness. So you'll round your victory! + + [The few aides that are left unhurt dart hither and thither with + this message, and the whole English host and it allies advance + in an ordered mass down the hill except some of the artillery, + who cannot get their wheels over the bank of corpses in front. + Trumpets, drums, and bugles resound with the advance. + + The streams of French fugitives as they run are cut down and shot + by their pursuers, whose clothes and contracted features are + blackened by smoke and cartridge-biting, and soiled with loam + and blood. Some French blow out their own brains as they fly. + The sun drops below the horizon while the slaughter goes on.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Is this the last Esdraelon of a moil + For mortal man's effacement? + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Warfare, mere, + Plied by the Managed for the Managers; + To wit: by frenzied folks who profit nought + For those who profit all! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Between the jars + Of these who live, I hear uplift and move + The bones of those who placidly have lain + Within the sacred garths of yon grey fanes-- + Nivelles, and Plancenoit, and Braine l'Alleud-- + Beneath the unmemoried mounds through deedless years + Their dry jaws quake: "What Sabaoath is this, + That shakes us in our unobtrusive shrouds, + As though our tissues did not yet abhor + The fevered feats of life?" + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Mere fancy's feints! + How know the coffined what comes after them, + Even though it whirl them to the Pleiades?-- + Turn to the real. + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + That hatless, smoke-smirched shape + There in the vale, is still the living Ney, + His sabre broken in his hand, his clothes + Slitten with ploughing ball and bayonet, + One epaulette shorn away. He calls out "Follow!" + And a devoted handful follow him + Once more into the carnage. Hear his voice. + + +NEY (calling afar) + +My friends, see how a Marshal of France can die! + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Alas, not here in battle, something hints, + But elsewhere! . . . Who's the sworded brother-chief + Swept past him in the tumult? + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + D'Erlon he. + Ney cries to him: + + +NEY + + Be sure of this, my friend, +If we don't perish here at English hands, +Nothing is left us but the halter-noose +The Bourbons will provide! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + A caustic wit, + And apt, to those who deal in adumbrations! + + [The brave remnant of the Imperial Guard repulses for a time the + English cavalry under Vivian, in which MAJOR HOWARD and LIEUTENANT + GUNNING of the Tenth Hussars are shot. But the war-weary French + cannot cope with the pursuing infantry, helped by grape-shot from + the batteries. + + NAPOLEON endeavours to rally them. It is his last effort as a + warrior; and the rally ends feebly.] + + +NAPOLEON + +They are crushed! So it has ever been since Crecy! + + [He is thrown violently off his horse, and bids his page bring + another, which he mounts, and is lost to sight.] + + +SPIRIT OF RUMOUR + + He loses his last chance of dying well! + + [The three or four heroic battalions of the Old and Middle Guard + fall back step by step, halting to reform in square when they + get badly broken and shrunk. At last they are surrounded by the + English Guards and other foot, who keep firing on them and smiting + them to smaller and smaller numbers. GENERAL CAMBRONNE is inside + the square.] + + +COLONEL HUGH HALKETT (shouting) + +Surrender! And preserve those heroes' lives! + + +CAMBRONNE (with exasperation) + +Mer-r-rde! . . . You've to deal with desperates, man, today: +Life is a byword here! + + [Hollow laughter, as from people in hell, comes approvingly from + the remains of the Old Guard. The English proceed with their + massacre, the devoted band thins and thins, and a ball strikes + CAMBRONNE, who falls, and is trampled over.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Observe that all wide sight and self-command + Desert these throngs now driven to demonry + By the Immanent Unrecking. Nought remains + But vindictiveness here amid the strong, + And there amid the weak an impotent rage. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Why prompts the Will so senseless-shaped a doing? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + I have told thee that It works unwittingly, + As one possessed, not judging. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music) + + Of Its doings if It knew, + What It does It would not do! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Since It knows not, what far sense + Speeds Its spinnings in the Immense? + + +SEMICHORUS I + + None; a fixed foresightless dream + Is Its whole philosopheme. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Just so; an unconscious planning, + Like a potter raptly panning! + + +CHORUS + + Are then, Love and Light Its aim-- + Good Its glory, Bad Its blame? + Nay; to alter evermore + Things from what they were before. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Your knowings of the Unknowable declared, + Let the last pictures of the play be bared. + + [Enter, fighting, more English and Prussians against the French. + NEY is caught by the throng and borne ahead. RULLIERE hides an + eagle beneath his coat and follows Ney. NAPOLEON is involved + none knows where in the crowd of fugitives. + + WELLINGTON and BLUCHER come severally to the view. They meet in + the dusk and salute warmly. The Prussian bands strike up "God save + the King" as the two shake hands. From his gestures of assent it + can be seen that WELLINGTON accepts BLUCHER'S offer to pursue. + + The reds disappear from the sky, and the dusk grows deeper. The + action of the battle degenerates to a hunt, and recedes further + and further into the distance southward. When the tramplings + and shouts of the combatants have dwindled, the lower sounds are + noticeable that come from the wounded: hopeless appeals, cries + for water, elaborate blasphemies, and impotent execrations of + Heaven and hell. In the vast and dusky shambles black slouching + shapes begin to move, the plunderers of the dead and dying. + + The night grows clear and beautiful, and the moon shines musingly + down. But instead of the sweet smell of green herbs and dewy rye + as at her last beaming upon these fields, there is now the stench + of gunpowder and a muddy stew of crushed crops and gore.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + So hath the Urging Immanence used to-day + Its inadvertent might to field this fray: + And Europe's wormy dynasties rerobe + Themselves in their old gilt, to dazzle anew the globe! + + [The scene us curtained by a night-mist.(25)] + + + +SCENE IX + +THE WOOD OF BOSSU + + [It is midnight. NAPOLEON enters a glade of the wood, a solitary + figure on a faded horse. The shadows of the boughs travel over + his listless form as he moves along. The horse chooses its own + path, comes to a standstill, and feeds. The tramp of BERTRAND, + SOULT, DROUOT, and LOBAU'S horses, gone forward in hope to find + a way of retreat, is heard receding over the hill.] + + +NAPOLEON (to himself, languidly) + +Here should have been some troops of Gerard's corps, +Left to protect the passage of the convoys, +Yet they, too, fail. . . . I have nothing more to lose, +But life! + + [Flocks of fugitive soldiers pass along the adjoining road without + seeing him. NAPOLEON'S head droops lower and lower as he sits + listless in the saddle, and he falls into a fitful sleep. The + moon shines upon his face, which is drawn and waxen.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + "Sic diis immortalibus placet,"-- + "Thus is it pleasing to the immortal gods," + As earthlings used to say. Thus, to this last, + The Will in thee has moved thee, Bonaparte, + As we say now. + + +NAPOLEON (starting) + + Whose frigid tones are those, +Breaking upon my lurid loneliness +So brusquely? . . . Yet, 'tis true, I have ever know +That such a Will I passively obeyed! + + [He drowses again.] + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Nothing care I for these high-doctrined dreams, + And shape the case in quite a common way, + So I would ask, Ajaccian Bonaparte, + Has all this been worth while? + + +NAPOLEON + + O hideous hour, +Why am I stung by spectral questionings? +Did not my clouded soul incline to match +Those of the corpses yonder, thou should'st rue +Thy saying, Fiend, whoever those may'st be! . . . + +Why did the death-drops fail to bite me close +I took at Fontainebleau? Had I then ceased, +This deep had been umplumbed; had they but worked, +I had thrown threefold the glow of Hannibal +Down History's dusky lanes!--Is it too late? . . . +Yes. Self-sought death would smoke but damply here! + +If but a Kremlin cannon-shot had met me +My greatness would have stood: I should have scored +A vast repute, scarce paralleled in time. +As it did not, the fates had served me best +If in the thick and thunder of to-day, +Like Nelson, Harold, Hector, Cyrus, Saul, +I had been shifted from this jail of flesh, +To wander as a greatened ghost elsewhere. +--Yes, a good death, to have died on yonder field; +But never a ball came padding down my way! + +So, as it is, a miss-mark they will dub me; +And yet--I found the crown of France in the mire, +And with the point of my prevailing sword +I picked it up! But for all this and this +I shall be nothing. . . . +To shoulder Christ from out the topmost niche +In human fame, as once I fondly felt, +Was not for me. I came too late in time +To assume the prophet or the demi-god, +A part past playing now. My only course +To make good showance to posterity +Was to implant my line upon the throne. +And how shape that, if now extinction nears? +Great men are meteors that consume themselves +To light the earth. This is my burnt-out hour. + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Thou sayest well. Thy full meridian-shine + Was in the glory of the Dresden days, + When well-nigh every monarch throned in Europe + Bent at thy footstool. + + +NAPOLEON + + Saving always England's-- +Rightly dost say "well-nigh."--Not England's,--she +Whose tough, enisled, self-centred, kindless craft +Has tracked me, springed me, thumbed me by the throat, +And made herself the means of mangling me! + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + Yea, the dull peoples and the Dynasts both, + Those counter-castes not oft adjustable, + Interests antagonistic, proud and poor, + Have for the nonce been bonded by a wish + To overthrow thee. + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Peace. His loaded heart + Bears weight enough for one bruised, blistered while! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Worthless these kneadings of thy narrow thought, + Napoleon; gone thy opportunity! + Such men as thou, who wade across the world + To make an epoch, bless, confuse, appal, + Are in the elemental ages' chart + Like meanest insects on obscurest leaves, + But incidents and grooves of Earth's unfolding; + Or as the brazen rod that stirs the fire + Because it must. + + [The moon sinks, and darkness blots out NAPOLEON and the scene.] + + + + +AFTER SCENE + + +THE OVERWORLD + + + [Enter the Spirit and Chorus of the Years, the Spirit and Chorus + of the Pities, the Shade of the Earth, the Spirits Sinister and + Ironic with their Choruses, Rumours, Spirit-messengers and + Recording Angels. + + Europe has now sunk netherward to its far-off position as in the + Fore Scene, and it is beheld again as a prone and emaciated figure + of which the Alps form the vertebrae, and the branching mountain- + chains the ribs, the Spanish Peninsula shaping the head of the + ecorche. The lowlands look like a grey-green garment half-thrown + off, and the sea around like a disturbed bed on which the figure + lies.] + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Thus doth the Great Foresightless mechanize + In blank entrancement now as evermore + Its ceaseless artistries in Circumstance + Of curious stuff and braid, as just forthshown. + + Yet but one flimsy riband of Its web + Have we here watched in weaving--web Enorm, + Whose furthest hem and selvage may extend + To where the roars and plashings of the flames + Of earth-invisible suns swell noisily, + And onwards into ghastly gulfs of sky, + Where hideous presences churn through the dark-- + Monsters of magnitude without a shape, + Hanging amid deep wells of nothingness. + + Yet seems this vast and singular confection + Wherein our scenery glints of scantest size, + Inutile all--so far as reasonings tell. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + Thou arguest still the Inadvertent Mind.-- + But, even so, shall blankness be for aye? + Men gained cognition with the flux of time, + And wherefore not the Force informing them, + When far-ranged aions past all fathoming + Shall have swung by, and stand as backward years? + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + What wouldst have hoped and had the Will to be?-- + How wouldst have paeaned It, if what hadst dreamed + Thereof were truth, and all my showings dream? + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + The Will that fed my hope was far from thine, + One I would thus have hymned eternally:-- + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES (aerial music) + + To Thee whose eye all Nature owns, + Who hurlest Dynasts from their thrones,(26) + And liftest those of low estate + We sing, with Her men consecrate! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Yea, Great and Good, Thee, Thee we hail, + Who shak'st the strong, Who shield'st the frail, + Who hadst not shaped such souls as we + If tendermercy lacked in Thee! + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Though times be when the mortal moan + Seems unascending to Thy throne, + Though seers do not as yet explain + Why Suffering sobs to Thee in vain; + + +SEMICHORUS II + + We hold that Thy unscanted scope + Affords a food for final Hope, + That mild-eyed Prescience ponders nigh + Life's loom, to lull it by-and-by. + + +SEMICHORUS I + + Therefore we quire to highest height + The Wellwiller, the kindly Might + That balances the Vast for weal, + That purges as by wounds to heal. + + +SEMICHORUS II + + The systemed suns the skies enscroll + Obey Thee in their rhythmic roll, + Ride radiantly at Thy command, + Are darkened by Thy Masterhand! + + +SEMICHORUS I + + And these pale panting multitudes + Seen surging here, their moils, their moods, + All shall "fulfil their joy" in Thee + In Thee abide eternally! + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Exultant adoration give + The Alone, through Whom all living live, + The Alone, in Whom all dying die, + Whose means the End shall justify! Amen. + + +SPIRIT OF THE PITIES + + So did we evermore, sublimely sing; + So would we now, despise thy forthshowing! + + +SPIRIT OF THE YEARS + + Something of difference animates your quiring, + O half-convinced Compassionates and fond, + From chords consistent with our spectacle! + You almost charm my long philosophy + Out of my strong-built thought, and bear me back + To when I thanksgave thus. . . . Ay, start not, Shades; + In the Foregone I knew what dreaming was, + And could let raptures rule! But not so now. + Yea, I psalmed thus and thus. . . . But not so now. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + O Immanence, That reasonest not + In putting forth all things begot, + Thou build'st Thy house in space--for what? + + +SEMICHORUS II + + O loveless, Hateless!--past the sense + Of kindly eyed benevolence, + To what tune danceth this Immense? + + +SPIRIT IRONIC + + For one I cannot answer. But I know + 'Tis handsome of our Pities so to sing + The praises of the dreaming, dark, dumb Thing + That turns the handle of this idle show! + + As once a Greek asked I would fain ask too, + Who knows if all the Spectacle be true, + Or an illusion of the gods (the Will, + To wit) some hocus-pocus to fulfil? + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music) + + Last as first the question rings + Of the Will's long travailings; + Why the All-mover, + Why the All-prover +Ever urges on and measure out the chordless chime of Things.(27) + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Heaving dumbly + As we deem, + Moulding numbly + As in dream +Apprehending not how fare the sentient subjects of Its scheme. + + +SEMICHORUS I OF THE PITIES + + Nay;--shall not Its blindness break? + Yea, must not Its heart awake, + Promptly tending + To Its mending +In a genial germing purpose, and for loving-kindness sake? + + +SEMICHORUS II + + Should it never + Curb or care + Aught whatever + Those endure +Whom It quickens, let them darkle to extinction swift and sure. + + +CHORUS + + But--a stirring thrills the air + Like to sounds of joyance there + That the rages + Of the ages +Shall be cancelled, and deliverance offered from the darts that were, +Consciousness the Will informing, till It fashion all things fair! + + + + + +THE END OF "THE DYNASTS" + +September 25, 1907 + + + + +*FOOTNOTES + +(1)Schlegel. + +(2)Introduction to the _Choephori_. + +(3)It is now called an Epic-drama (1909). + +(4)Through this tangle of intentions the writer has in the main + followed Thiers, whose access to documents would seem to + authenticate his details of the famous scheme for England's ruin. + +(5)These historic facings, which, I believe, won for the local + (old 39th) regiment the nickname of "Green Linnets," have been + changed for no apparent reason. (They are now restored--1909.) + +(6)The remains of the lonely hut occupied by the beacon-keepers, + consisting of some half-buried brickbats, and a little mound + of peat overgrown with moss, are still visible on the elevated + spot referred to. The two keepers themselves, and their + eccentricities and sayings are traditionary, with a slight + disguise of names. + +(7)"Le projet existe encore aux archives de la marine que + Napoleon consultait incessamment; il sentait que cette marine + depuis Louis XIV. avait fait de grandes choses: le plan de + l'Expedition d'Egypte et de la descente en Angleterre se + trouvaient au ministere de la marine."--CAPEFIGUE: L'Europe + pendant le Consulat et l'Empire. + +(8)This weather-beaten old building, though now an hotel, is but + little altered. + +(9)Soph. Trach. 1266-72. + +(10)This scene is a little antedated, to include it in the Act to + which it essentially belongs. + +(11)"Quel bonhour que je n'aie aucun enfant pour recueillir mon + horrible heritage et qui soit charge du poids de mon nom!"-- + (Extract from the poignant letter to his wife written on + this night.--See Lanfrey iii. 374.) + +(12)In those days the hind-part of the harbour adjoining this scene + was so named, and at high tides the waves washed across the isthmus + at a point called "The Narrows." + +(13)This General's name should, it is said, be pronounced in three + syllables, nearly PRESH-EV-SKY. + +(14)It has been conjectured of late that these adventurous spirits + were Sir Robert Wilson and, possibly, Lord Hutchinson, present + there at imminent risks of their lives. + +(15)The traditional present of the rose was probably on this + occasion, though it is not quite matter of certainty. + +(16)At this date. + +(17)So Madame Metternich to her husband in reporting this interview. + But who shall say! + +(18)The writer has been unable to discover what became of this + unhappy lady and her orphaned infants.--(The foregoing note, + which appeared in the first edition of this drama, was the + means of bringing from a descendant of the lady referred to + the information she remarried, and lived and died at Venice; + and that both her children grew up and did well.--1909) + +(19)Thomas Young of Sturminster-Newton; served twenty-one years in + the Fifteenth (King's) Hussars; died 1853; fought at Vitoria, and + Waterloo. + +(20)Hussars, it may be remembered, used to wear a pelisse, dolman, or + "sling-jacket" (as the men called), which hung loosely over the + shoulder. The writer is able to recall the picturesque effect of + this uniform. + +(21)Sheridan. + +(22)This famous ball has become so embedded in the history of the + Hundred Days as to be an integral part of it. Yet in spite of + the efforts that have been made to locate the room which saw + the memorable gathering (by the present writer more than thirty + years back, among other enthusiasts), a dispassionate judgment + must deny that its site has as yet been proven. Even Sir W. + Fraser is not convincing. The event happened less than a century + ago, but the spot is almost as phantasmal in its elusive mystery + as towered Camelot, the palace of Priam, or the hill of Calvary. + +(23)The spelling of the date is used. + +(24)Samuel Clark; born 1779, died 1857. Buried at West Stafford, + Dorset. + +(25)One of the many Waterloo men known to the writer in his youth, + John Bentley of the Fusileer Guards, use to declare that he lay + down on the ground in such weariness that when food was brought + him he could not eat it, and slept till next morning on an empty + stomach. He died at Chelsea Hospital, 187-, aged eighty six. + +(26)Transcriber's note: This footnote is an excerpt in Greek from + the "Magnificat" canticle, the Latin character equivalent being + "katheile DYNASTAS apo THrono," or "He has put down the mighty + from their thrones."--D.L. + +(27)Hor. _Epis._ i, 12. + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Dynasts, by Thomas Hardy + |