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SCENE v PART FIRST
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 Whither the showman wills.
Andyet\ 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 /