SCENE i PART FIRST
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!
(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 Vags and splintered remnants now remain.— Thuswise Villeneuve, poor craven, quitted him! Thus are my projects for the navy damned, 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 slush, And welcome. 'Tis not long they'll have the lead. Ships can be wrecked by land!