Chapter XII: Part 12

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 Blücher. 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 Blücher.... 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 BLÜCHER 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 BLÜCHER 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 Blücher 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 Blücher'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 Blücher'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 Blücher 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