SCENE in PART FIRST
------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 the Years)
0 Eldest-born of the Unconscious Cause— If such ihou heest^ as I can fancy thee— Why dost tkou 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
/ say, as I have said long heretofore^ I know but narrow freedom. Feefst tkou 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
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 NAPOLLON'S temporary lodging when not at his headquarters at the Chateau of Pont-de-Briques, two miles inland.