vi PART SECOND
The third-sent skips, from Plymouth Sound, With A dandy Anstruther, impound
Souls to six thousand strong. White those, the fourth fleet, that we see Far back, are lined with cavalry, And guns of girth, wheeled heavily
To roll their weight 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 awnbg.
ST. CLOUD. THE BOUDOIR OF JOSEPHINE
It is the dusk of an 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 NAPOL&GN and some ladies and officers of the Court playing Catch-me-if-you-can by torchlight on the