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Wessex Edition

THE WORKS OF THOMAS HARDY
IN PROSE AND VERSE

WITH PREFACES AND NOTES

VERSE

VOL. II

POETICAL WORKS

THE DYNASTS

PARTS FIRST AND SECOND

THE DYNASTS

AN EPIC-DRAMA

OF THE WAR WITH NAPOLEON,. IN
THREE PARTSJ, NINETEEN ACTS, AND
ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY SCENES

THE TIME COVERED BY THE ACTION
BEING ABpGT- TEN YEARS

THOMAS HARDY

PARTS FIRST AND SECOND

And l heai'd sounds of insult, shame , and wrong.
And trumpets blown for wars*

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED

ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON

1913

PREFACE

The Spectacle here presented to the mind’s eye in
the likeness of a Drama is concerned with the Great
Historical Calamity, or Clash of Peoples, artificially
brought about some hundred years ago.

The choice of such a subject was mainly due to
three accidents of locality. It chanced that the writer
was familiar with a part of England that lay within
hail of the watering-place in which King George the
Third had his favourite summer residence during the
war with the first Napoldon, and where he was visited
by ministers and others who bore the weight of
English affairs on their more or less competent
shoulders at that stressful time. Secondly, this
district, being also near the coast which had echoed
with rumours of invasion in their intensest form while
the descent threatened, was formerly animated by
memories and traditions of the desperate military
preparations for that contingency. Thirdly, the same
countryside happened to include the village which
was the birthplace of Nelson’s flag-captain at
T rafalgar.

When, as the first published result of these acci¬
dents, The Trumpet-Major was printed, more than

vii

THE DYNASTS

twenty years ago, I found myself in the tantalizing
position of having touched the fringe of a vast
international tragedy without being able, through
limits of plan, knowledge, and opportunity, to enter
further into its events; a restriction that prevailed
for many years. But the slight regard paid to
English influence and action throughout the struggle
by those Continental writers who had dealt imagina¬
tively with Napoleon’s career, seemed always to leave
room for a new handling of the theme which should
re-embody the features of this influence in their true
proportion; and accordingly, on a belated day about
six years back, the following drama was outlined, to
be taken up now and then at wide intervals ever
since.

It may, I think, claim at least a tolerable fidelity
to the facts of its date as they are given in ordinary
records. Whenever any evidence of the words really
spoken or written by the characters in their various
situations was attainable, as close a paraphrase has
been aimed at as was compatible with the form
chosen. And in all cases outside oral tradition,
accessible scenery, and existing relics, my indebted¬
ness for detail to the abundant pages of the historian,
the biographer, and the journalist, English and
Foreign, has been, of course, continuous.

It was thought proper to introduce, as super¬
natural spectators of the terrestrial action, certain
impersonated abstractions, or Intelligences, called
Spirits. They are intended to be taken by the
reader for what they may be worth as contrivances of

viii

PREFACE

the fancy merely. Their doctrines are but tentative,
and are advanced with little eye to a clear metaphysic,
or systematized philosophy warranted to lift “the
burthen of the mystery ” of this unintelligible world.
The chief thing hoped for them is that they and their
utterances may have dramatic plausibility enough to
procure for them, in the words of Coleridge, “that
willing suspension of disbelief for the moment which
constitutes poetic faith.” The wide acceptance of the
Monistic theory of the Universe forbade, in this
twentieth century, the importation of Divine person¬
ages from any antique Mythology as ready-made
sources or channels of Causation, even in verse, and
excluded the celestial machinery of, say, Paradise
Lost , as peremptorily as that of the Iliad or the
Eddas. And the abandonment of the masculine
pronoun in allusions to the First or Fundamental
Energy seemed a necessary and logical consequence
of the long abandonment by thinkers of the anthro¬
pomorphic conception of the same.

These phantasmal Intelligences are divided into
groups, of which one only, that of the Pities, approxi¬
mates to “the Universal Sympathy of human nature
—the spectatorUTealized ” 1 of the Greek Chorus ; it is
impressionable and inconsistent in its views, which
sway hither and thither as wrought on by events.
Another group approximates to the passionless Insight
of the Ages. The remainder are eclectically chosen
auxiliaries whose signification may be readily dis¬
cerned. In point of literary form, the scheme of

1 Schlegel.

THE DYNASTS

contrasted Choruses and other conventions of this
external feature was shaped with a single view to the
modern expression of a modern outlook, and in frank
divergence from classical and other dramatic pre¬
cedent which ruled the ancient voicings of ancient
themes.

It may hardly be necessary to inform readers that
in devising this chronicle-piece no attempt has been
made to create that completely organic structure of
action, and closely-webbed development of character
and motive, which are demanded in a drama strictly
self-contained. A panoramic show like the present is
a series of historical “ ordinates ” (to use a term in
geometry): the subject is familiar to all ; and fore¬
knowledge is assumed to fill in the junctions required
to combine the scenes into an artistic unity. Should
the mental spectator be unwilling or unable to do
this, a historical presentment on an intermittent
plan, in which the dramatis personce number some
hundreds, exclusive of crowds and armies, becomes
in his individual case unsuitable.

In this assumption of a completion of the action
by those to whom the drama is addressed, it is
interesting, if unnecessary, to name an exemplar as
old as Aeschylus, whose plays are, as Dr. Verrall
reminds us, 1 scenes from stories taken as known,
and would be unintelligible without supplementary
scenes of the imagination.

Readers will readily discern, too, that The Dynasts
is intended simply for mental performance, and not

1 Introduction to the Chocphon.

PREFACE

for the stage. Some critics have averred that to
declare a drama 1 as being not for the stage is to
make an announcement whose subject and predicate
cancel each other. The question seems to be an
unimportant matter of terminology. Compositions
cast in this shape were, without doubt, originally
written for the stage only, and as a consequence their
nomenclature of “Act,” “Scene,” and the like, was
drawn directly from the vehicle of representation.
But in the course of time such a shape would reveal
itself to be an eminently readable one; moreover, by
dispensing with the theatre altogether, a freedom of
treatment was attainable in this form that was
denied where the material possibilities of stagery
had to be rigorously remembered. With the careless
mechanicism of human speech, the technicalities of
practical mumming were retained in these productions
when they had ceased to be concerned with the stage
at all.

To say, then, in the present case, that a writing in
play-shape is not to be played, is merely another way
of stating that such writing has been done in a form
for which there chances to be no brief definition save
one already in use for works that it superficially but
not entirely resembles.

Whether mental performance alone may not
eventually be the fate of all drama other than that of
contemporary or frivolous life, is a kindred question
not without interest. The mind naturally flies to the
triumphs of the Hellenic and Elizabethan theatre in

1 It is now called an Epic-drama (1909).

THE DYNASTS

exhibiting scenes laid “far in the Unapparent/’ and
asks why they should not be repeated. But the
meditative world is older, more invidious, more
nervous, more quizzical, than it once was, and being
unhappily perplexed by—

Riddles of Death Thebes never knew,

may be less ready and less able than Hellas and old
England were to look through the insistent, and often
grotesque, substance at the thing signified.

In respect of such plays of poesy and dream a
practicable compromise may conceivably result, taking
the shape of a monotonic delivery of speeches, with
dreamy conventional gestures, something in the
manner traditionally maintained by the old Christmas
mummers, the curiously hypnotizing impressiveness of
whose automatic style—that of persons who spoke by
no will of their own—may be remembered by all who
ever experienced it. Gauzes or screens to blur out¬
lines might still further shut off the actual, as has,
indeed, already been done in exceptional cases. But
with this branch of the subject we are not concerned
here.

T. H.

Septe 77 iber 1903.

CONTENTS

THE DYNASTS: AN EPIC-DRAMA OF THE
WAR WITH NAPOLEON

Preface .vii

PART FIRST

Characters.3

Fore Scene. The Overworld.7

Act First:—

Scene I. A Ridge in Wessex . . . . . 16

„ II. Paris. Office of the Minister of Marine . . 21

„ III. London. The Old House of Commons . . 26

„ IV. The Harbour of Boulogne .... 38

„ V. London. The House of a Lady of Quality . 39

„ VI. Milan. The Cathedral ..... 44

Act Second:—

Scene I. The Dockyard, Gibraltar . . . . 51

„ II. Off Ferrol.54

„ III. The Camp and Harbour of Boulogne . . 57

,, IV. South Wessex. A Ridge-like Down near the

Coast . . . . . . . 61

„ V. The Same. Rainbarrows 5 Beacon, Egdon Heath 64
xiii

THE DYNASTS

Act Third :—

PAGE

Scene I. Boulogne. The Ch&teau at Pont-de-Briques . 74

,, II. The Frontiers of Upper Austria and Bavaria . 80

„ III. Boulogne. The St. Omer Road . . • 81

Act Fourth :—

Scene I. King George’s Watering-place, South Wessex . 83

,, II. Before the City of Ulm 89

,, III. Ulm. Within the City ..... 90

,, IV. Before Ulm. The Same Day ... 96

,, V. The Same. The Michaelsberg ... 97

,, VI. London. Spring Gardens . . . .100

Act Fifth:—

Scene I. Off Cape Trafalgar . . . . .105

„ II. The Same. The Quarter-deck of the “Victory” no

„ III. The Same. On Board the “ Bucentaure” . 115

„ IV. The Same. The Cockpit of the “ Victory” . 119

,, V. London. The Guildhall . . . , 128

,, VI. An Inn at Rennes . . . . .133

„ VII. King George’s Watering-place, South Wessex . 135

Act Sixth :—

Scene I. The Field of Austerlitz. The French Position. 139
,, II. The Same. The Russian Position . . .144

„ III. The Same. The French Position . . .147

,, IV. The Same. The Russian Position . . .152

„ V. The Same. Near the Windmill of Paleny . 154

„ VI. Shockerwick House, near Bath . . .159

„ VII. Paris. A Street leading to the Tuileries . . 162

„ VIII. Putney. Bowling Green House . . .168

xiv

CONTENTS

' PART SECOND

PAGE

Characters. 1 77

Act First:—

Scene I. London. Fox’s Lodgings, Arlington Street
„ II. The Route between London and Paris
„ III. The Streets of Berlin ....

„ IV. The Field of Jena. ....

,, V. Berlin. A Room overlooking a Public Place
,, VI. The Same .....

„ VII. Tilsit and the River Niemen .

„ VIII. The Same ......

Act Second :—

Scene I. The Pyrenees and Valleys adjoining . . 227

,, II. Aranjuez. A Room in the Palace of Godoy . 228

„ III. London. The Marchioness of Salisbury’s . 239

,, IV. Madrid and its Environs . . . .246

,, V. The Open Sea between the English Coasts and

the Spanish Peninsula .... 247

,, VI. St. Cloud. The Boudoir of Josephine . . 249

„ VII. Vimiero ....... 256

Act Third :—

Scene I. Spain. A Road near Astorga

„ II. The Same .....

„ III. Before Coruna ....

„ IV. Coruna. Near the Ramparts .

„ V. Vienna. A Cafe in the Stephans-Platz

Act Fourth :—

Scene I. A Road out of Vienna ..... 288

„ II. The Island of Lobau, with Wagram beyond . 292

,, III. The Field of Wagram ..... 294

258

264

270

278

281

188

193

197

201

204

209

214

THE DYNASTS

1‘AGE

Scene IV. The Field of Talavera ..... 3°4

„ V. The Same ....... 3°6

„ VI. Brighton. The Royal Pavilion . . . 309

„ VII. The Same. The Assembly Rooms . . . 3 11

,5 VIII. Walcheren . . . . . . .314

Act Fifth :—

Scene I. Paris. A Ballroom in the House of Cambaceres 317

„ II. Paris. The Tuileries ..... 324

„ III. Vienna. A Private Apartment in the Imperial

Palace.334

„ IV. London. A Club in St. James’s Street . . 342

„ V. The old West Highway out of Vienna . . 348

„ VI. Courcelles ....... 349

„ VII. Petersburg. The Palace of the Empress-Mother 352

„ VIII. Paris. The Grand Gallery of the Louvre and

the Salon-Carr<£ adjoining . . . .358

Act Sixth :—

Scene I. The Lines of Torres Vedras . . . . 363

, 3 II. The Same. Outside the Lines . . . 364

„ III. Paris. The Tuileries ..... 367

„ IV. Spain. Albuera . . . . . -374

„ V. Windsor Castle. A Room in the King’s

Apartments ...... 379

,3 VI. London. Carlton House and the Streets

adjoining . . . . . . .388

„ VII. The Same. The Interior of Carlton House . 391

Fro?itispiece .—The English Channel from Ridgeway Hill.

Map of the Wessex of the Novels and Poems.—
End of Volume.

xvi

PART FIRST

CHARACTERS

I. Phantom Intelligences

TThe Ancient Spirit of the
j Years.

\Chorus of the Years.

{The Spirit of the Pities.

\Chorus of the Pities.

{

Spirits Sinister and Ironic.
Choruses of Sinister and
Ironic Spirits.

f The Spirit of Rumour.

\ Chorus of Rumours.

The Shade of the Earth.

Spirit-Mrssf.ngers.

Rf.cording Angels.

II. Persons

The names printed m Italics are those of mute figures.

MEN

George the Third.

The Duke of Cumberland.
Pitt.

Fox.

Sheridan.

Windham.

Whitbread.

Tierney.

Bathurst and Fuller.

Lord Chancellor Eldon.

Earl of Malmesbury.

Lord Mulgrave.

Another Cabinet Minister.
Lord Grenville.

Viscount Castlereagh.

Viscount Sidmouth .

Another Noble Lord.

Rose.

Canning.

Perceval.

| Grey.

Speaker Abbot.

Tom link, Bishop of Lincoln.

Sir Walter Farquhar.

Count Munster.

Other Peers , Ministers , ex- Ministers ,
Members of Parliament , and
Persons of Quality,

Nelson.

Colling wood.

Hardy.

Secretary Scott.

Dr. Beatty.

Dr. Mag rath.

Dr. Alexander Scott.
Burke, Purser.
Lieutenant Pasco.
Another Lieutenant.

THE DYNASTS

Pollard, a Midshipman.

Another Midshipman.

Captain Adair.

Lieutenants Ram and Whipple.

Other English Naval Officers.
Sergeant-Major Seeker and Marines.
Staff and other Officers of the English
Army.

A Company of Soldiers.

Regiments of the English Army and
Hanoverian.

Sailors and Boatmen.

A Militiaman.

Naval crews.

The Lord Mayor and Corporation of
London.

A Gentleman of Fashion.
Wiltshire, a Country Gentle¬
man.

A Horseman.

Two Beacon-watchers.

English Citizens and Burgesses.
Coach and other Highway
Passengers.

Messengers, Servants, and
Rustics.

Napoleon Bonaparte.

Daru, Napoleon’s War Secre¬
tary.

Lauriston, Aide-de-camp.

Monge, a Philosopher.

Berthier.

Murat, Brother - in - law of
Napoleon.

Soult.

Ney.

Lannes.

Bemadotle.

Marmont.

Dupont.

Oudinot.

Davout.

Vandamme. .

Other French Marshals.

A Sub-Officer.

Villeneuve, Napoleon’s Admiral.
Decr£s, Minister of Marine.

Flag-Captain Magendie.
Lieutenant Daudignon.
Lieutenant Fournier,
de Prigny, Head of Staff.

Captain Lucas.

Other French Naval Officers
and Petty Officers.

Seamen of the French and Spanish
Navies.

Regiments of the French Army.

Couriers.

Heralds.

Aides , Officials , Pages , etc.

Attendants.

French Citizens.

Cardinal Caprara.

Priests , Acolyths , and Choristers.
Italian Doctors and Presidents of
Institutions.

Milanese Citizens.

The Emperor Francis.

The Emperor Alexander.

The Archduke Ferdinand.
Prince John of Lichtenstein.
Prince Schwarzenberg.
Mack, Austrian General.
Jellachich.

Riesc.

Weirother.

Another Austrian General.
Two Austrian Officers.

Prince KuttJzof, Russian Field-
Marshal.

Count Langeron.

Count Buxhovden.

Count MilorAdovich.

Dokhtorof.

Gtulay, Gottesheim , Klenau, and

Prschebiszewsky .

Regiments of the Austrian Amny.
Regiments of the Russian Army,

CHARACTERS OF PART FIRST

WOMEN

Queen Charlotte.

English Princesses.

Ladies of the English Court.

Lady Hester Stanhope.

A Lady.

Lady Caroline Lamb , Mrs. Damer,
and other English Ladies.

The Empress Josephine.

Princesses and Ladies of Josephine's
Court.

Seven Milanese Young Ladies.

City- and Towns- wornen.
Country-women.

A Militiaman’s Wife
A Street-woman.
Ship-women.

Se7‘vants.

FORE SCENE

THE OVERWORLD

Enter the Ancient Spirit and Chorus of the Years, the Spirit and
Chorus of the Pities, the Shade of the Earth, the Spirits Sinister and
Ironic with their Choruses, Rumours, Spirit-Messengers, and
Recording Angels.

Shade of the Earth
What of the Immanent Will and Its designs ?

Spirit of the Years

It works unconsciously , as heretofore,

Eternal artistries in Circumstance ,

Whose patterns , wrought by rapt cesthetic rote ,
Seem in themselves Its single listless aim,

And not their consequence .

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)

Still thus ? Still thus ?

Ever unconscious !

An automatic sense
Unweeting why or whence ?

Be, then, the inevitable , as of old,

Although that so it be we dare not hold /

Spirit of the Years

Hold what ye list, fond unbelieving Sprites,
You cannot swerve the pulsion of the Byss,

THE DYNASTS

FORE SCENE

Which thinking on, yet weighing not Its thought,
Unchecks Its clock-like laws.

Spirit Sinister (aside)

Good, as before.

My little engines, then, will still have play.

Spirit of the Pities

Why doth It so and so, and ever so,

This viewless, voiceless Turner of the Wheel?

Spirit of the Years

As one sad story runs, It lends Its heed
To other worlds, being wearied out with this ;
Wherefore Its mindlessness of earthly woes.

Some, too, have told at whiles that rightfully
Its warefulness, Its care, this planet lost
When in her early growth and crudity
By bad mad acts of severance men contrived,
Working such nescience by their own device .—

Yea, so it stands in certain chronicles,

Though not in mine.

Spirit of the Pities

Meet is it, none the less,

To bear m thought that though Its consciousness
May be estranged, engrossed afar, or sealed,
Sublunar shocks may wake Its watch anon ?

Spirit of the Years

Niay.' In the Foretime, even to the germ of Being,

Nothing appears of shape to indicate

That cognizance has marshalled things terrene,

Or will (such is my thinking ) in my span.

Rather they show that, like a knitter drowsed,
Whose fingers play in skilled unmindfulness,

FORE SCENE

PART FIRST

The Will has zvoven with an absent heed
Since life first teas ; and ever will so weave.

Spirit Sinister

Hence we've rare dramas going—more so since
It wove Its zveb in that Ajaccian womb !

Spirit of the Years

Well, no more thus on what ?io mind can mete.

Our scope is but to register and watch
By means of this great gift accorded us —

The free t refection of our entities.

Spirit of tiie Pities

On things terrene, then, I would say that though
The human news wherewith the Rumours stirred us
May please thy temper, Years, ’/were better far
Such deeds were nulled, and this strange mans career
Wound up, as making inharmonious jars
In her creation whose meek wraith we knozo.

The more that he, turned man of mere traditions,
jYozc profits naught. For the large potencies
Instilled into his idiosyncrasy —

To throne fair Liberty in Privilege' room —

Are taking taint, and sink to common plots
For his own gain.

Shade of the Earth

A nd who, then, Cordial One,
Wouldst substitute for this Intractable ?

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)

We would establish those of kindlier build.
In fair Compassions skilled,

Men of deep art in life-development.;
Watchers and warders of thy varied lands,

THE DYNASTS

KORii SCENE

Men surf'cited of laying heavy hands
Upon the innocent ,

The mild, the fragile, the obscure content
Among the myriads of thy family.

Those, too, who love the true, the excellent ,

And make their daily moves a melody.

Shade of the Earth

They may come, will they. I am not averse.

Yet know I am but the ineffectual Shade

Of her the Travaillcr, herself a thrall

To It; in all her labourings curbed and kinged

Spirit of the Years

Shall such be mooted now ? Already change
Hath played strange pranks since first I brooded here.
But old Laws operate yet; and phase and phase
Of mens dynastic and imperial moils
Shape on accustomed lines. Though, as for me,

I care not how they shape, or what they be.

Spirit of the Pities
You seem to have small sense of merry, Sire ?

Spirit of the Years

Mercy I view, not urge;—nor more than mark
What designate your titles Good and III.

’ Tis not in me to feel with, or against,

These flesh-hinged mannikins Its hand upwinds
To click-clack off Its preadjusted laws;

But only through my centuries to behold

Their aspects, and their movements, and their mould.

Spirit of the Pities

They are shapes that bleed, mere mannikins or no.
And each has parcel in the total Will.

FORE SCENE

PART FIRST

Spirit of the Years

Which overrides them as a whole its parts
In other entities.

Spirit Sinister (aside)

Limbs of Itself :

Each one a jot of It in quaint disguise ?

Ill fear all men henceforward /

Spirit of the Pities
Go to. Let this terrestrial tragedy —

Spirit Ironic

Nay, comedy —

Spirit of the Pities

Let this earth-tragedy
Whereof ye spake , afford a spectacle
Forthwith conned closelier than your custom is .—

Spirit of the Years

How does it stand ? (To a Recording Angel)

Open and chant the page
Thou st lately wnt, that sums these happenings,
In brief reminder of their instant points
Slighted by us amid our converse here.

Recording Angel (from a book, in recitative)

Now mellow-eyed Peace is made captive,

And Vengeance is chartered
To dealforth its dooms on the Peoples
With sword and with spear.

Men’s musings are busy with forecasts
Of musters and battle.

THE DYNASTS

FORS SCENE

And visions of shock and disaster
Rise red on the year .

The easternmost ruler sits wistful ,

And tense he to midward;

The King to the west mans his borders
In front and in rear.

While one they eye, flushed from his crownings
Ranks legions around him
To shake the enisled neighbour nation
And close her career !

Semichorus I. of Rumours (aerial music)

O woven-winged squadrons of Toulon
And fellows of Rochefort,

Wait, wait for a wind, and draw westward
Ere Nelson be near !

For he reads not your force, or your freightage
Of warriors fell-handed,

Or when they will join for the onset,

Or whither they steer !

Semichorus II

0 Nelson, so zealous a watcher

Through months-long of cruizing,
Thy foes may elude thee a moiizent,

Put forth, and get clear ;

And rendezvous westerly straightway
With Spain s aiding navies,

And hasten to head violation
Of Albion s froiitier !

Spirit of the Years

Methmks too much assurance thrills your note
On secrets m my locker, gentle sprites;

FORK SCBNK

PART FIRST

But it may seme.—Our thought being now re flexed
To forces operant 071 this Bnglisk isle ,

Behoves it us to enter scene by scene ,

And watch the spectacle of Europe's ?noves
hi her embroil as they were self-ordained
According to the naive and liberal creed
Of our great-hearted young Compassio?iaies }
Forgetting the Prune Mover of the gear .;

As puppet-watchers him who pulls the strings .—
You 11 mark the twitchings of this Bonaparte
As he with other figures foots his reel
Until he twitch him into his lonely grave :

Also regard the frail ones that his flings
Have made gyrate like anivialcula
In tepid pools.—Hence to the precinct, then,

A nd count as framework to the stagery
Yon architraves of sunbeam-smitten cloud .—

So may yc judge Barth's jackaclocks to be
Not fugled by one Will but function-free.

The nether sky opens, and Europe is disclosed as a prone and
emaciated figure, the Alps shaping like a backbone, and the branching
mountain-chains like ribs, the peninsular plateau of Spain forming a
head. Broad and lengthy lowlands stretch from the north of France
across Russia like a grey-green garment hemmed by the Ural
mountains and the glistening Arctic Ocean.

The point of view then sinks downwards through space, and
draws near to the surface of the perturbed countries, where the
peoples, distressed by events which they did not cause, are seen
writhing, crawling, heaving, and vibrating in their various cities and
nationalities.

Spirit of the Years (to the Spirit of the Pities)

As key-scene to the whole , I first lay bare
The Will-webs of thy fearful questioning ;

For know that of my antique privileges
This gift to visualize the Mode is one
(Though by exhaustive strain and effort only).

See , then , and learn , ere my power pass again.

A new and penetrating light descends on the spectacle, enduing
men and things with a seeming transparency, and exhibiting as one

THE DYNASTS

FORE SCENE

organism the anatomy of life and movement in all humanity and
vitalized matter included in the display.

Spirit of the Pities (after a pause)

Amid this scene of bodies substantive
Strange waves I sight like winds grown visible,
Which bear mens forms on their innumerous coils ,
Twining and serpentining round and through.
Also retracting threads like gossamers —

Except in being irresistible —

Which complicate with some , and balance all.

Spirit of the Years

These are the Prime Volitions, — -fibrils, veins,
Will-tissues, nerves, and pulses of the Cause,

That heave throughout the Earth’s compositure.
Their sum is like the lobule of a Brain
Evolving always that it wots not of;

A Brain whose whole connotes the Everywhere,
And whose procedure may but be discerned
By phantom eyes like ours ; the while unguessed
Of those it stirs, who (even as ye do') dream
Their motions free, their orderings supreme ;

Each life apart from each, with power to mete
Its own days measures; balanced, self-complete;
Though they subsist but atoms of the One
Labouring through all, divisible from none;

But this no further now. Deem yet mans deeds self-done.

The anatomy of the Immanent Will disappears.

General Chorus of Intelligences (aerial music)

We ll close up Time, as a bird its van,

Well traverse Space, as spirits can,

Link pulses severed by leagues and years,

Bring cradles into touch with biers;

So that the far-off Consequence appears

Prompt at the heel of foregone Cause. _

H^KK sc-RNK

PART FIRST

77 /<- Pn.ME, (hat willed ere wareness was,

11’hose JRrain perchance is Space, whose Thought its laws.
Which we as threads and streams discern,
lie may hut muse on, never learn.

KN'U OK THE FORK SCENE

ACT FIRST

SCENE I

ENGLAND. A RIDGE IN WESSEX

The time is a fine day in March 1805. A highway crosses the
ridge, which is near the sea, and the south coast is seen bounding
the 5 landscape below, the open Channel extending beyond.

Spirit of the Years

Hark now, and gather how the martial mood
Stirs Englands humblest hearts. Anon we ll trace
Its heavings in the upper coteries there.

Spirit Sinister

Ay; begin small, and so lead up to the greater. It
is a sound dramatic principle. I always aim to follow
it in my pestilences, fires, famines, and other comedies.
And though, to be sure, I did not in my Lisbon
earthquake, I did in my French Terror, and my St.
Domingo burlesque.

Spirit of the Years

Thy Lisbon earthquake, thy French Terror. Wait.
Thinking thou will’st, thou dost but indicate.

A stage-coach enters, with passengers outside. Their voices
after the foregoing sound small and commonplace, as from another
medium.

SCENE I

PART FIRST

First Passenger

There seems to be a deal of traffic over Ridgeway,
even at this time o’ year.

Second Passenger

Yes. It is because the King and Court are coming
down here later on. They wake up this part rarely!
. . . See, now, how the Channel and coast open out
like a chart. That patch of mist below us is the town
we are bound for. There’s the Isle of Slingers beyond,
like a floating snail. That wide bay on the right is
where the “Abergavenny,” Captain John Wordsworth,
was wrecked last month. One can see half across to
France up here.

First Passenger

Half across. And then another little half, and
then all that’s behind—the Corsican mischief!

Second Passenger

Yes. People who live hereabout—I am a native of
these parts—feel the nearness of France more than
they do inland.

First Passenger

That’s why we have seen so many of these
marching regiments on the road. This year his
grandest attempt upon us is to be made, I reckon.

Second Passenger

May we be ready!

First Passenger

Well, we ought to be. We’ve had alarms enough,
God knows.

1 7

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Third Passenger

I much doubt his intention to come at all.

Some companies of infantry are seen ahead, and the coach presently
overtakes them.

Soldiers (singing as they walk)

We be the King’s men, hale and hearty,
Marching to meet one Buonaparty ;

If he won’t sail, lest the wind should blow,

We shall have marched for nothing, O!

Right fol-lol!

We be the King’s men, hale and hearty,
Marching to meet one Buonaparty ;

If he be sea-sick, says “No, no ! ”

We shall have marched for nothing, O !

Right fol-lol!

The soldiers draw aside, and the coach passes on.

Second Passenger

Is there truth in it that Bonaparte wrote a letter to
the King last month ?

First Passenger

Yes, sir. A letter in his own hand, in which he
expected the King to reply to him in the same
manner.

Soldiers (continuing, as they are left behind).

We be the King’s men, hale and hearty,

Marching to meet one Buonaparty ;

Never mind, mates; we’ll be merry, though

We may have marched for nothing, O!

Right fol-lol!

SCENE I

PART FIRST

Third Passenger

And was Boney’s letter friendly?

First Passenger

Certainly, sir. He requested peace with the
King.

Third Passenger

And why shouldn’t the King reply in the same
manner?

First Passenger

What! Encourage this man in an act of shameless
presumption, and give him the pleasure of considering
himself the equal of the King of England— whom he
actually calls his brother!

Third Passenger

He must be taken for what he is, not for what he
was; and if he calls King George his brother it
doesn t speak badly for his friendliness.

First Passenger

Whether or no, the King, rightly enough, did not
repiy m person, but through Lord Muigrave our
Foreign Minister,to the effect that his Britannic Majesty
cannot give a specific answer till he has communicated
with the Continental powers.

Third Passenger

_ Both the manner and the
British ; but a huge mistake.

matter of the reply are

First Passenger

Sir, am I to deem you a friend of Bonaparte, a
traitor to your country-

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Third Passenger

Damn my wig, sir, if I’ll be called a traitor by you
or any Court sycophant at all at all!

[He unpacks a case of pistols.

Second Passenger

Gentlemen, forbear, forbear! Should such differ¬
ences be suffered to arise on a spot where we may,
in less than three months, be fighting for our very
existence ? This is foolish, I say. Heaven alone,
who reads the secrets of this man’s heart, can tell
what his meaning and intent may be, and if his letter
has been answered wisely or no.

The coach is stopped to skid the wheel for the descent of the
hill, and before it starts again a dusty horseman overtakes it.

Several Passengers

A London messenger! (To horseman) Any news,
sir? We are from Bristol only.

Horseman

Yes ; much. We have declared war against Spain,
an error giving vast delight to France. Bonaparte
says he will date his next dispatches from London,
and the landing of his army may be daily expected.

[Exit horseman.

Third Passenger (to First)

Sir, I apologize. He’s not to be trusted! War is
his name, and aggression is with him !

He repacks the pistols. A silence follows. The coach and
passengers move downwards and disappear towards the coast.

Spirit of the Pities

III chanced it that the English monarch George
Did not respond to the said Emperor !

SCKNR n

PART FIRST

Spirit Sinister

/ saw good sport therein, and paean'd the Will
For leaving lax so stultifying a move /

Which would have marred the European broil,
A fid sheathed all swords, and silenced every gun
That furrows human flesh.

Spirit of the Pities

O say no more ;

If aught could gratify the Absolute
'Twould verily be thy censure, not thy praise f

Spirit of the Years

The ruling was that wc should witness things
And not dispute them. To the drama, then.
Emprises over-Channel are the key
To this land's stir and ferment .— Thither we.

Clouds gather over the scene, and slowly open elsewhere.

SCENE II

PARIS. OFFICE OF THE MINISTER OF MARINE
Admiral Drcr£s seated at a table. A knock without

Come in!

DBCRfcS

Good news, I hope!
Attendant

[An attendant enters.

Decr£s

Show him in straightway.

A courier, sir.

[The attendant goes out

ACT I

THE DYNASTS

As I expected!

From the Emperor

A courier is admitted, who delivers a dispatch.

Courier

Sir, for your own hand

And yours alone.

DecrIds

Thanks. Be in waiting near.

[The courier withdraws.

Decres reads :

“ I am resolved that no wild dream of Ind,

And what we there might win ; or of the West,

And bold re-conquest there of Surinam
And other Dutch retreats along those coasts,

Or British islands nigh, shall draw me now
From piercing into England through Boulogne
As lined in my first plan. If I do strike,

I strike effectively ; to forge which feat
There’s but one way—planting a mortal wound
In England’s heart—the very English land—

Whose insolent and cynical reply

To my well-pleaded plaint on breach of faith

Concerning Malta, as at Amiens pledged,

Has lighted up anew such brands of ire
As may bescorch the world.—Now to the case :

Our naval forces can be all amassed
Without the foe’s foreknowledge or surmise,

By these rules following; to whose text I ask
Your gravest application ; and, when conned,

That steadfastly you stand by word and word,
Making no question of one jot therein.

“ First, then, let Villeneuve wait a favouring wind
For process westward swift to Martinique,

SCENE II

PART FIRST

Coaxing the English after. Join him there
Gravina, Missiessy, and Ganteaume;

Which junction once effected all our keels—

Now nigh to sixty sail—regain the Manche,

While the pursuers linger in the West
At hopeless fault.—Having hoodwinked them thus,
Our boats skim over, disembark the army,

And in the twinkling of a patriot’s eye
All London will be ours.

“In strictest secrecy carve this to shape—

Let never an admiral or captain scent
Save Villeneuve and Ganteaume ; and pen each charge
With your own quill. The surelier to outwit them
I start for Italy; and there, as ’twere
Engrossed in fetes and Coronation rites,

Abide till, at the need, I reach Boulogne,

And head the enterprize.— Napoleon.”

Decres reflects, and turns to write.

Spirit of the Pities

More ills ? How is Decres ordained to move ?

Spirit of the Years

He buckles to the work. First to Villeneuve,

His onetime comrade and his boyhood’s friend.

How lingering at Toulon, he jots swift lines,

Then duly to Ganteaume.—They are sealed forthwith,
And superscribed: “ Break not till on the main.”

Boisterous singing is heard in the street.

Spirit of the Pities

I hear confused and simmering sounds without,
Like those which thrill the hives at evenfall
When swarming pends.

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Spirit of the Years

They but proclaim the crowd,
Which sings and shouts its hot enthusiasms
For this dead-ripe design on England's shore,

Till the persuasion of its own plump words,

Acting upon mercurial temperaments,

Makes hope as prophecy. “ Our Emperor
Will show himself (say they) in this exploit
Unwavering, keen, and irresistible
As is tke lightning-prong. Our vast flotillas
Have been embodied as by sorcery;

Soldiers made seamen, and the ports transformed
To rocking cities casemented with guns.

Against these valiants balance Englands means :
Raw merchant-fellows from the counting-house,

Raw labourers from the fields, who thumb for arms
Clumsy untempered pikes forged hurriedly,

And cry tkem full-equipt. Their batteries.

Their flying carriages, their catamarans.

Shall profit not, and in one summer night
We'll find us there ! ”

Recording Angel

And is this prophecy true ?

Spirit of the Years
Occasion will reveal.

Shade of the Earth

What boots it, Sire,

To down this dynasty, set that one up,

Goad panting peoples to the throes thereof,
Make wither here my fruit, maintain it there.
And hold me travailling through fine less years
In vain and objectless monotony,

SCENE II

PART FIRST

When all such tedious conjuring could be shunned

By uncreation ? Howsoever wise

The governance of these massed mortalities,

A juster wisdom his who should have ruled
They had not been.

Spirit of the Years

Nay, something hidden urged
The giving matter motion ; and these coils
Are, maybe, good as any.

Spirit of the Pities

But why any ?

Spirit of the Years

Sprite of Compassions, ask the Immanent /

I am but an accessory of Its works,

Whom the Ages render conscious; and at most
Figure as bounden witness of Its laws.

Spirit of the Pities

How ask the aim of unrelaxing Will
Tranced in Its purpose to unknowingness ?
iff thy words, Ancient Phantom, token true).

Spirit of the Years

Thou answerest well. But cease to ask of me.
Meanwhile the mime proceeds .— We turn herefrom,
Change our homuncules, and observe forthwith
How the High Influence sways the English realm,
And how the jacks lip out their reasonings there.

The Cloud-curtain draws.

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

SCENE III

LONDON. THE OLD HOUSE OF COMMONS

A long chamber with a gallery on each side supported by thin
columns having gilt Ionic capitals. Three round-headed windows
are at the further end, above the Speaker’s chair, which is backed by
a huge pedimented structure in white and gilt, surmounted by the
lion and the unicorn. The windows are uncurtained, one being open,
through which some boughs are seen waving in the midnight gloom
without. Wax candles, burnt low, wave and gutter in a brass
chandelier which hangs from the middle of the ceiling, and in
branches projecting from the galleries.

The House is sitting, the benches, which extend round to the
Speaker’s elbows, being closely packed, and the galleries likewise full.
Among the members present on the Government side are Pitt and
other ministers with their supporters, including Canning, Castle-
reagh, Lord C. Somerset, Erskine, W. Dundas, Huskisson,
Rose, Best, Elliot, Dallas, and the general body of the party.
On the opposite side are noticeable Fox, Sheridan, Windham,
Whitbread, Grey, T. Grenville, Tierney, Earl Temple,
Ponsonby, G. and H. Walpole, Dudley North, and Timothy
Shelley. Speaker Abbot occupies the Chair.

Spirit of the Years (to two Recording Angels)

As prelude to the scene , as means to aid
Our younger comrades in its construing ,

Pray spread your scripture , and rehearse in brief
The reasonings here of late—to whose effects
Words of to-night form sequence .

The Recording Angels chant from their books, antiphonally, in a
minor recitative.

Angel I (aerial music)

Feeble framed dull unresolve , unresourcefulness ,

Sat m the halls of the Kingdom s high Councillors,
Whence the grey glooms of a ghost-eyed despondency
Wanned as with winter the national mind .

mtknk in

PART FIRST

Angkl 11

England stands forth to the sivord of Napollon
Nakedly—not an ally in support of her;

Men and munitions dispersed inexpediently;

Projects of range and scope poorly defined.

Angel I

Once more doth Pitt deem the land crying loud to him .—
Frail though and spent, and an-hungcrcd for restfulness
Once more responds he, dead fervours to energize,
slims to concentre, stack efforts to bind.

Angkl II

lire the first fruit thereof voices grozo audible ,

Holding as hapless his dream of good guardianship,
jestingly, earnestly , shouting if service less,

Tardy, inept, and uneouthly designed.

AnGKLS I AND II

So now, to-night, in the slashing old sentences.

Hear them speak,—gravely these, those with gay -
he a rtediness, —

Midst their admonishments little conceiving how
Scarlet the scroll that the years will unwind!

Spirit ok the Pities (to the Spirit of the Years)

Let us put on and suffer for the nonce
The feverish fleshings of Humanity,

And join the pale debaters here convened.

So may thy soul be won to sympathy
By donning their poor mould.

Spirit ok the Years

I'll humour thee,

Though my unpasstoued essence could not change
Did / incarn in moulds of all mankind /

2 7

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Spirit Ironic

'Tis enough to make every little dog in England run
to mixen to hear this Pitt sung so strenuously ! P'll be
the third of the incarnate, on the chance of hearing the
tune played the other way.

Spirit Sinister

And I the fourth. There's sure to be something in
my line toward, where politicians are gathered together /

The four Phantoms enter the Gallery of the House in the
disguise of ordinary strangers.

Sheridan (rising)

The Bill I would have leave to introduce
Is framed, sir, to snuff out last Session’s Act,

By party-scribes intituled a Provision

For England’s Proper Guard ; but elsewhere known

As Mr. Pitt’s new Patent Parish Pill. (Laughter.)

The ministerial countenances, I mark,

Congeal to dazed surprise at my straight motion—
Why, passes sane conjecture. It may be
That, with a haughty and unwavering faith
In their own battering-rams of argument,

They deemed our buoyance whelmed, and sapped, and
sunk

To hope’s sheer bottom, whence a miracle
Was all could friend and float us ; or, maybe,

They are amazed at our damned disrespect
In making mockery of an English Law
Sprung sacred from the King’s own Premier’s brain!
—I hear them snort; but let them wince at will,

My duty must be done; shall be done quickly
By citing some few facts.

An Act for our defence!

It weakens, not defends; and oversea
Swoln France’s despot and his myrmidons
This moment know it, and can scoff thereat.

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Our people know it too—those who can peer
Behind the scenes of this poor painted show
Called soldiering!—The Act has failed, must fail,

As my right honourable friend well proved
When speaking t’other night, whose silencing
By his right honourable vis-a-vis
Was of the genuine Governmental sort,

And like the catamarans their sapience shaped
All fizzle and no harm. (Laughter.) The Act, in brief.
Effects this much : that the whole force of England
Is strengthened by—eleven thousand men !

So sorted that the British infantry

Are now eight hundred less than heretofore !

In Ireland, where the glamouring influence
Of the right honourable gentleman
Prevails with magic might, eleven men
Have been amassed. And in the Cinque-Port towns,
Where he is held in absolute veneration,

His method has so quickened martial fire
As to bring in—one man. O would that man
Might meet my sight! (Laughter.) A Hercules, no
doubt,

A god-like emanation from this Act,

Who with his single arm will overthrow
All Buonaparte’s legions ere their keels
Have scraped one pebble of our fortless shores! . . .
Such is my motion, sir, and such my mind.

' [He sits down amid cheers.

The candle-snuffers go round, and Pitt rises. During the
momenta^ pause before he speaks the House assumes an attentive
stillness, in which can be heard the rustling of the trees without, a
horn from an early coach, and the voice of the watch crying the
hour.

Pitt

Not one on this side but appreciates
Those mental gems and airy pleasantries
Flashed by the honourable gentleman,

Who shines in them by birthright. Each device

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Of drollery he has laboured to outshape,

(Or treasured up from others who have shaped it,)
Displays that are the conjurings of the moment,

(Or mellowed and matured by sleeping on)—

Dry hoardings in his book of commonplace,

Stored without stint of toil through days and months—
He heaps into one mass, and lights and fans
As fuel for his flaming eloquence,

Mouthed and maintained without a thought or care
If germane to the theme, or not at all.

Now vain indeed it were should I assay
To match him in such sort. For, sir, alas,

To use imagination as the ground
Of chronicle, take myth and merry tale
As texts for prophecy, is not my gift,

Being but a person primed with simple fact,

Unprinked by jewelled art.—But to the thing.

The preparations of the enemy,

Doggedly bent to desolate our land,

Advance with a sustained activity.

They are seen, they are known, by you and by us all.
But they evince no clear-eyed tentative
In furtherance of the threat, whose coming off,

Ay, years may yet postpone ; whereby the Act
Will far outstrip him, and the thousands called
Duly to join the ranks by its provisions,

In process sure, if slow, will ratch the lines
Of English regiments—seasoned, cool, resolved—

To glorious length and firm prepotency.

And why, then, should we dream of its repeal
Ere profiting by its advantages ?

Must the House listen to such wilding words
As this proposal, at the very hour
When the Act’s gearing finds its ordered grooves
And circles into full utility ?

The motion of the honourable gentleman
Reminds me aptly of a publican
Who should, when malting, mixing, mashing’s past
Fermenting, barrelling, and spigoting,

SCKNK III

PART FIRST

Quick taste the brew, and shake his sapient head,

And cry in acid voice : The ale is new!

Brew old, you varlets ; cast this slop away! (Cheers.)

But gravely, sir, I would conclude to-night,

And, as a serious man on serious things,

I now speak here. ... I pledge myself to this :
Unprecedented and magnificent
As were our strivings in the previous war,

Our efforts in the present shall transcend them,

As men will learn. Such efforts are not sized
By this light measuring-rule my critic here
Whips from his pocket like a clerk-o’-works 1 . . .
Tasking and toilsome war’s details must be,

And toilsome, too, must be their criticism,—

Not in a moment’s stroke extemporized.

The strange fatality that haunts the times
Wherein our lot is cast, has no example.

Times are they fraught with peril, trouble, gloom ;

We have to mark their lourings, and to face them.

Sir, reading thus the full significance

Of these big days, large though my lackings be,

Can any hold of those who know my past
That I, of all men, slight our safeguarding ?

No : by all honour no!—Were I convinced
That such could be the mind of members here,

My sorrowing thereat would doubly shade
The shade on England now 1 So I do trust
AH in the House will take my tendered word.

And credit my deliverance here to-night,

That in this vital point of watch and ward
Against the threatenings from yonder coast
We stand prepared ; and under Providence
Shall fend whatever hid or open stroke
A foe may deal.

He sits down amid loud ministerial cheers, with symptoms of
exhaustion.

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Windham

The question that compels the House to-night
Is not of differences in wit and wit,

But if for England it be well or no
To null the new-fledged Act, as one inept
For setting up with speed and hot effect
The red machinery of desperate war.—

Whatever it may do, or not, it stands,

A statesman’s raw experiment. If ill,

Shall yet more raw assays and more be tried
In stress of jeopardy that stirs demand
For sureness of proceeding ? Must this House
Exchange safe action based on practised lines
For yet more ventures into risks unknown
To gratify a quaint projector’s whim,

While enemies hang grinning round our gates
To profit by mistake ?

My friend who spoke
Found comedy in the matter. Comical
As it may be in parentage and feature,

Most grave and tragic in its consequence
This Act may prove. We are moving thoughtlessly,
We squander precious, brief, life-saving time
On idle guess-games. Fail the measure must,

Nay, failed it has already; and should rouse
Resolve in its progenitor himself
To move for its repeal! (Cheers.)

Whitbread

I rise but to subjoin a phrase or two
To those of my right honourable friend.

I, too, am one who reads the present pinch
As passing all our risks of heretofore.

For why? Our bold and reckless enemy,

Relaxing not his plans, has treasured time
To mass his monstrous force on all the coigns
From which our coast is close assailable.

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Ay, even afloat his concentrations work :

Two vast united squadrons of his sail
Move at this moment viewless on the seas.—

Their whereabouts, untraced, unguessable.

Will not be known to us till some black blow
Be dealt by them in some undreamt-of quarter
To knell our rule.

That we are reasonably enfenced therefrom
By such an Act is but a madman’s dream. . . .

A commonwealth so situate cries aloud
For more, far mightier, measures! End an Act
In Heaven’s name, then, which only can obstruct
The fabrication of more trusty tackle
For building up an army! (Cheers.)

Bathurst

Sir, the point

To any sober mind is bright as noon;

Whether the Act should have befitting trial
Or be blasphemed at sight. I firmly hold
The latter loud iniquity.—One task
Is theirs who would inter this corpse-cold Act
(So said)--to bring to birth a substitute!

Sir, they have none ; they have given no thought to
one,

And thus their deeds incautiously disclose
Their cloaked intention and most secret aim!

With them the question is not how to frame
A finer trick to trounce intrusive foes,

But who shall be the future ministers
To whom such trick against intrusive foes,

Whatever it may prove, shall be entrusted!

They even ask the country gentlemen

To join them in this job. But, God be praised,

Those gentlemen are sound, and of repute;

Their names, their property, their character,

Their numbers, their attainments, and their blood,

(Ironical Opposition cheers.)

ACT I

THE DYNASTS

Safeguard them from an onslaught on an Act
For ends so sinister and palpable ! (Cheers and jeermgs.)

Fuller

I disapprove of censures of this Act.—

All who can entertain such hostile thought _

Would swear that black is .white, that night is day.
No honest man will join a reckless crew
Who’d overthrow their country for their gain!

(Laughter.)

Tierney

It is incumbent on me to declare

In the last speaker’s face my censure, based

On grounds most clear and constitutional.

An Act it is that studies to create
A standing army, large and permanent;

Which kind of force has ever been beheld
With jealous-eyed disfavour in this House.

It makes for sure oppression, binding men
To serve for less than service proves it worth
Conditioned by no hampering penalty.

For these and late-spoke reasons, then, I say,

Let not the Act deface the statute-book,

But blot it out forthwith. (Hear, hear.)

Fox (rising amid cheers)

At this late hour,
After the riddling fire the Act has drawn on’t,

My words shall hold the House the briefest while.
Too obvious to the most unwilling mind
It grows that the existence of this law
Experience and reflection have condemned.
Professing to do much, it makes for nothing;
Vouched as assuring all, it comforts none.

Not only so; while feeble in effect
It shows it vicious in its principle.

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Engaging to raise men for the common weal,

It sets a harmful and unequal tax
Capriciously on our communities.—

The annals of a century fail to show
More flagrant cases of oppressiveness
Than those this statute works to perpetrate,

Which (like all Bills this favoured statesman frames,
And clothes with tapestries of rhetoric
Disguising their real web of commonplace)

Though held as shaped for English bulwarking,
Breathes in its heart perversities of party,

And instincts toward oligarchic power,

Gallmg~the many to relieve the few! (Cheers.)

Whatever breadth and sense of equity
Inform,the methods of this minister,

Those mitigants nearly always trace their root
To measures that his predecessors wrought.

And ere his Government can dare assert
Superior claims to England’s confidence,

They owe it to their honour and good name
To furnish better proof of such a claim
Than is revealed by the abortiveness
Of this thing called an Act for our Defence.

To the great gifts of its artificer
No member of this House is more disposed
To yield full recognition than am I.

No man has found more reason so to do
Through the long roll of disputatious years
Wherein we have stood opposed. . . .

But if one single fact could counsel me
To entertain a doubt of those great gifts,

And cancel faith in his capacity,

That fact would be the vast imprudence shown
In staking recklessly repute like his
On such an Act as he has offered us—

So false in principle, so poor in fruit.

Sir, the achievements and effects thereof
Have furnished not one fragile argument
Which all the partiality of friendship

THE DYNASTS

ACT r

Can kindle to consider as the mark

Of a clear, vigorous, freedom-fostering mind!

He sits down amid lengthy cheering from the Opposition.
Sheridan

My summary shall be brief, and to the point.—

The said right honourable Prime Minister
Has thought it proper to declare my speech
The jesting of an irresponsible ;—

Words from a person who has never read
The Act he claims him urgent to repeal.

Such quips and quizzings (as he reckons them v
He implicates as gathered from long hoards
Stored up with cruel care, to be discharged
With sudden blaze of pyrotechnic art
On the devoted, gentle, shrinking head
O’ the right incomparable gentleman! (Laughter.)

But were my humble, solemn, sad oration (Laughter.)
Indeed such rattle as he rated it,

Is it not strange, and passing precedent,

That the illustrious chief of Government
Should have uprisen with such indecent speed
And strenuously replied ? He, sir, knows well
That vast and luminous talents like his own
Could not have been demanded to choke off
A witcraft marked by nothing more of weight
Than ignorant irregularity!

Nec Deus intersit —and so-and-so—

Is a well-worn citation whose close fit
None will perceive more clearly in this Fane
Than its presiding Deity opposite. (Laughter.)

His thunderous answer thus perforce condemns him !

Moreover, to top all, the while replying,

He still thought best to leave intact the reasons
On which my blame was founded!

Thus, then, stands

My motion unimpaired, convicting clearly
Of dire perversion that capacity

scenk m PART FIRST

We formerly admired.— (Cries of “Oh, oh.’’)

This minister

Whose circumventions never circumvent.

Whose coalitions fail to coalesce ;

This dab at secret treaties known to all,

This darling of the aristocracy—

(Laughter, “Oh, oh,” cheers, and cries of “Divide.”)
Has brought the millions to the verge of ruin,

By pledging them to Continental quarrels
Of which we see no end ! (Cheers.)

The members rise to divide.

Spirit of the Pities

It irks me that they thus should Yea and Nay
As though a power lay in their oraclings,

If each deeision work unconsciously,

And would be operant though unloosened were
A single lip l

Spirit of Rumour

There may react on things
Some influence from these, indefinitely,

And even on That, whose outcome we all are.

Spirit of the Years

Hypotheses /•—More boots it to remind
The younger here of our etkercal band
A nd hierarchy of Intelligences ,

That this thwart Parliament whose moods we watch-
So insular, empiric, un-ideal —

May figure forth in shaip and salient lines
To retrospective eyes of after days.

And print its legend large on History.

For one cause—if I read the signs aright —
To-night's appearance of its Minister
In the assembly of his long-time sway
Is near his last, and themes to-night launched forth

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Will take a tincture from that memory ,

When men recall the scene and circumstance
That hung about his pleadings.—But no more ;
The ritual of each party is rehearsed\

Dislodging not one vote or prejudice ;

The ministers their ministries retain ,

And Ins as Ins , and Outs as Outs , remain .

Spirit of the Pities

Meanwhile what of the Foemans vast array
That wakes these tones ?

Spirit of the Years

Abide the event , young Shade :
Soon stars will shut and show a spring-eyed dawn ,
And sunbeams fountain forth, that will arouse
Those forming bands to full activity.

A member reports strangers.

A quaint curt token that we dally here /

We now cast off these mortal manacles ,

And speed us seaward.

The Phantoms vanish from the Gallery. The members file out
to the lobbies. The House and Westminster recede into the films
of night, and the point of observation shifts rapidly across the
Channel.

SCENE IV

THE HARBOUR OF BOULOGNE

The morning breaks, radiant with early sunlight: The French
^ of ;™ S10 ; is disclosed. On the hills on Either side of the
““ ap P ear lar § e “iitory camps formed of timber huts.

“* her C T? S ° f more or less Permanent kind, the
Jhole affording accommodation for one hundred and fifty thousand

South of the town is an extensive basin surrounded by quays

SCENE V

PART FIRST

the heaps of fresh soil around showing it to be a recent excavation
from the banks of the Liane. The basin is crowded with the flotilla,
consisting of hundreds of vessels of sundry kinds: flat-bottomed
brigs with guns and two masts; boats of one mast, carrying each an
artillery waggon, two guns, and a two-stalled horse-box; transports
with three low masts; and long narrow pinnaces arranged for many
oars.

Timber, saw-mills, and new-cut planks spread in profusion
around, and many of the town residences are seen to be adapted for
warehouses r nd infirmaries.

DUMB SHOW

Moving in this scene are countless companies of soldiery,
engaged in a drill-practice of embarking and disembarking, and of
hoisting horses into the vessels and landing them again. Vehicles
bearing provisions of many sorts load and unload before the
temporary warehouses. Further off, on the open land, bodies of
troops are at field-drill. Other bodies of soldiers, half stripped and
encrusted with mud, are labouring as navvies in repairing the
excavations.

An English squadron of about twenty sail, comprising a ship or
two of the line, frigates, brigs, and luggers, confronts the busy
spectacle from the sea.

The Show presently dims and becomes broken, till only its
flashes and gleams are visible. Anon a curtain of cloud closes
over it.

SCENE V

LONDON. THE HOUSE OF A LADV OF QUALITY

A fashionable crowd is present at an evening party, which
includes the Dukes of Beaufort and Rutland, Lords Malmes¬
bury, Harrowby, Eldon, Grenville, Castlereagh, Sidmouth,
and Mulgrave, with their ladies; also Canning, Perceval, Town-
shend, Lady Anne Hamilton, Mrs. Damer, Lady Caroline
Lamb, and many other notables.

A Gentleman (offering his snuff-box)

So, then, the Treaty anxiously concerted
Between ourselves and frosty Muscovy
Is duly signed ?

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

A Cabinet Minister

Was signed a few days back,

And is in force. And we do firmly hope
The loud pretensions and the stunning dins
From new aggressiveness by France’s chief,

Now daily heard, these laudable exertions
May keep in curb ; that ere our greening land
Darken its leaves beneath the Dogday suns,

The independence of the Continent
May be assured, and all the rumpled flags
Of famous dynasties so foully mauled,

Extend their honoured hues as heretofore.

Gentleman

So be it. Yet this man is a volcano ;

And proven ’tis, by God, volcanoes choked
Have ere now turned to earthquakes !

A lady comes up and playfully taps his arm.

Lady

What’s the news ?—
The chequerboard of diplomatic moves
Is London, all the world knows : here are born
All inspirations of the Continent—

So tell!

Gentleman

Ay. Inspirations now abound !

Lady

Nay, but your looks are grave! That measured
speech

Betokened matter that will waken us.—

Is it some piquant cruelty of his ?

Or other tickling horror from abroad
The packet has brought in ?

SCENE V

PART FIRST

Gentleman

The treaty’s signed!

Minister

Whereby the parties mutually agree
To knit in union and in general league
All outraged Europe.

Lady

So to knit sounds well ;

But how ensure its not unravelling ?

Minister

Well; by the terms. There are among them these
Five hundred thousand active men in arms
Shall strike (supported by Britannic aid
In vessels, men, and money subsidies)

To free North Germany and Hanover
From trampling foes ; deliver Switzerland,

Unbind the galled republic of the Dutch,

Rethrone in Piedmont the Sardinian King,

Make Naples sword-proof, un-French Italy
From shore to shore; and thoroughly guarantee
A settled order to the divers states ;

Thus rearing breachless barriers in each realm
Against the thrust of his usurping hand.

Spirit of the Years

They trow not what is shaping otherwhere
The while they talk thus stoutly J

Spirit of Rumour

Bid me go

And join them , and all blandly kindle them
By bringing , ere material transit can ,

A new surprise !

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

-Spirit of the Years

Yea, for a moment, wouldst.

The Spirit of Rumour enters the apartment in the form of a
personage of fashion, newly arrived. He advances and addresses
the group.

Spirit

The Treaty moves all tongues to-night. — Ha, well —

So much on paper !

Gentleman
What on land and sea ?

You look, old friend, full primed with latest thence.

Spirit

Yea, this. The Italy our mighty pact
Delivers from the French and Bonaparte
Makes haste to crown him !—Turning from Boulogne
He speeds toward Milan, there to glory him
In second coronation by the Pope,

And set upon his irrepressible brow
Lombardy s iron crown.

The Spirit of Rumour mingles with the throng, moves away, and
disappears.

Lady

Alas, alas!

Fair Italy,
Lord

Yet thereby English folk
Are freed him.—Faith, as ancient people say,
It’s an ill wind that blows good luck to none!

Minister

Who is your friend that drops so _ airily
This precious pinch of salt on our raw skin P

SCENE V

PART FIRST

Gentleman

Why, Norton. You know Norton well enough?

Minister

Nay, ’twas not he. Norton of course I know.

I thought him Stewart for a moment, but-

Lady

But I well scanned him—’twas Lord Abercorn ;

For, said I to myself, “O quaint old beau,

To sleep in black silk sheets so funnily"—

That is, if the town rumour on’t be true.

Lord

My wig, ma’am, no! ’Twas a much younger man.
Gentleman

But let me call him! Monstrous silly this.

That I don’t know my friends!

Theydook around. The gentleman goes among the surging and
babbling guests, makes inquiries, and returns with a perplexed look.

Gentleman

They tell me, sure,

That he’s not here to-night!

Minister

I can well swear

It was not Norton.—’Twas some lively buck,
Who chose to put himself in masquerade
And enter for a whim. I’ll tell our host.

—Meantime the absurdity of his report
Is more than manifested. How knows he
The plans of Bonaparte by lightning-flight,
Before another man in England knows ?

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Lady

Something uncanny’s in it all, if true.

Good Lord, the thought gives me a sudden sweat.

That fairly makes my linen stick to me!

Minister

Ha-ha! It’s excellent. But we’ll find out

Who this impostor was.

They disperse, look furtively for the stranger, and speak of the
incident to others of the crowded company.

Spirit of the Years

Now let us vision onward\ till we sight
Famed Milan s aisles of mai'ble , sun-alight ,

And there behold , unbid ’ the Coronation-rite .

The confused tongues of the assembly waste away into distance,
till they are heard but as the babblings of the sea from a high cliff,
the scene becoming small and indistinct therewith. This passes into
silence, and the whole disappears.

SCENE VI

MILAN. THE CATHEDRAL

The interior of the building on a sunny May day.

The walls, arches, and columns are draped in silk fringed with
gold. A gilded throne stands in front of the High Altar. A closely
packed assemblage, attired in every variety of rich fabric and fashion,
waits in breathless expectation.

DUMB SHOW

From a private corridor leading to a door in the aisle the Emjpress
Josephine enters, in a shining costume, and diamonds that collect
rainbow-colours from the sunlight piercing the clerestory windows.

SCENE VI PART FIRST

She is preceded by Princess Eliza, and surrounded by her ladies.
A pause follows, and then comes the procession of the Emperor
consisting of hussars, heralds, pages, aides-de-camp, presidents of
institutions, officers of state bearing the insignia of the Empire and
of Italy, and seven ladies with offerings. The Emperor himself is
in royal robes, wearing the Imperial crown, and carrying the sceptre.
He is followed by ministers and officials of the household. His
gait is rather defiant than dignified, and a bluish pallor overspreads
his face.

He is met by the Cardinal Archbishop Caprara and the clergy,
who burn incense before him as he proceeds towards the throne!
Rolling notes of music burst forth, and loud applause from the
congregation.

Spirit of the Pities

What is the creed that these rich rites disclose ?

Spirit of the Years

A local thing called Christianity,

Which the wild dramas of the wheeling spheres
Include, with divers other such, in dim
Pathetical and brief parentheses,

JBeyond whose span, uninfluenced, unconcerned ’
T/ie systems of the suns go sweeping on
IPith all their many-mortaledplanet train
In mathematic roll unceasingly.

Spirit of the Pities

I did not recognise it here, forsooth ;

Ihough in its early, lovingkindly days
Of gracious purpose it was much to me.

Archbishop (addressing Bonaparte)

Sire, with that clemency and right goodwill
Which beautify Imperial Majesty,

You deigned acceptance of the homages
That we the clergy and the Milanese
Were proud to offer when your entrance here
Streamed radiance on our ancient capital.

THE DYNASTS

Please, then, to consummate the boon to-da
Beneath this holy roof, so soon to thrill
With solemn strains and lifting harmonies
Befitting such a coronation hour ;

And bend a tender fatherly regard
On this assembly, now at one with me
To supplicate the Author of All Good
That He endow your most Imperial person
With every Heavenly gift.

The procession advances, and the Emperor seats hin
throne, with the banners and regalia of the Empire on hi
those of Italy on his left hand. Shouts and trium
accompany the proceedings, after which Divine service cc

Spirit of the Pities

Thus are the self-styled servants of the Hig
Constrained by earthly duress to embrace
Mighty imperiousness as it were choice,

And hand the Italian sceptre unto one
Who, with a saturnine, sour-humoured gri%
Professed at first to flout antiquity,

Scorn limp conventions, smile at mouldy thv
And level dynasts down to journeymen !—
Yet he, advancing swiftly on that track
Whereby his active soul, fair Freedoms chi
Makes strange decline, now labours to achie
The thing it overthrew.

Spirit of the Years

Thou reasonest ever thuswise—even as if
A self-formed force had urged his loud car

Spirit Sinister

Do not the prelate's accents falter thin,

His lips with inheld laughter grow deform
While blessing one whose aim is but to win

The golden seats that other b - s have wc

SCENE VI

PART FIRST

Spirit of the Years

Soft, jester; scorn not puppetry so skilled,

Even made to feel by one men call the Dame.

Shade of the Earth

Yea ; that they feel, and puppetry remain,

Is an owned flaw in her consistency

Men love to dub Dame Nature—that lay-shape

They use to hang phenomena upon —

Whose deftest mothering in fairest spheres
Is girt about by terms inexorable /

Spirit Sinister

The lady's remark is apposite, and reminds me that
I may as well hold my tongue as desired. For if my
casual scorn. Father Years, should set thee trying to
prove that there is any right or reason in the Universe,
thou wilt not accomplish it by Doomsday ! Small blame
to her, however; she must cut her coat according to her
cloth, as they would say below there.

Spirit of the Years

O would that I could move It to enchain thee,

And shut thee up a thousand years l—(to cite
A grim terrestrial tale of one thy like)

Thou Dragon of the Incorporeal World,

“ As they would say below there."

Spirit of the Pities

Would thou coiddst /

But move That Which is scoped above percipience,

It cannot be !

Shade of the Earth

The spectacle proceeds.
47

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Spirit Sinister

And we may as well give all attention thereto , for
the evils at work in other continents are not worth
eyesight by comparison.

The ceremonial in the Cathedral continues. Napoleon goes to
the front of the altar, ascends the steps, and, taking up the crown of
Lombardy, places it on his head.

Napoleon

’Tis God has given it to me. So be it.

Let any who shall touch it now beware!

(Reverberations of applause.)

The Sacrament of the Mass. Napoleon reads the Coronation
Oath in a loud voice.

Heralds

Give ear! Napoldon, Emperor of the French
And King of Italy, is crowned and throned!

Congregation

Long live the Emperor and King. Huzza !

Music. The Te Deum.

Spirit of the Pities

That vulgar stroke of vauntery he displayed
In planting on his brow the Lombard crown,

Means sheer erasure of the Luneville pacts,

And lets confusion loose on Europe'speace

For many an undawned year ! From thisyrash hour

A ustria but waits her opportunity

By secret swellings of her armaments

To link her to his foes.—Til speak to him.

He throws a whisper into Napoleon’s ear.

Lieutenant Bonaparte,

Would it not seemlier be to shut thy heart

SCENE VI

PART FIRST

To these unhealthy splendours ?—helmet thee
For her thou sivar'st-to first , fair Liberty ?

Napoleon

Who spoke to me ?

Archbishop

Not I, Sire. Not a soul.
Napoleon

Dear Josephine, my queen, didst call my name ?

Josephine

I spoke not, Sire.

Napoleon

Thou didst not, tender spouse’;

I know it. Such harsh utterance was not thine.

It was aggressive Fancy, working spells
Upon a mind o’erwrought!

The service closes. The clergy advance with the canopy to the
foot of the throne, and the procession forms to return to the Palace.

Spirit of the Years

Officious sprite ,

Thou art young , and dost not heed the Cause of things
Which some of us have inkled to thee here ;

Else wouldst thou not have hailed the Emperor,

Whose acts do but out shape Its governing.

Spirit of the Pities

I feel ' Sire, as I must / This tale of Will
And Life's impulsion by Incognizance
I cannot take.

THE DYNASTS

ACT *

Spirit of the Years

Let me then once again
Show to thy sceptic eye the very streams
And currents of this all-inhering Power ,

And bring conclusion to thy unbelief.

The scene assumes the preternatural transparency before
mentioned, and there is again beheld as it were the interior. of a
brain which seems to manifest the volitions of a Universal Will, of
whose tissues the personages of the action form portion.

Spirit of the Pities

Enough . And yet for very somite ss
I cannot own the weird phantasma real!

Spirit of the Years

Affection ever was illogical

Spirit Ironic (aside)

How should the Sprite own to such logic—a mew
juvenile—who only came into being in what t/zo
earthlings call their Tertiary Age !

The scene changes. The exterior of the Cathedral takes th.e
place of the interior, and the point of view recedes, the whole fabric
smalling into distance and becoming like a rare, delicately carved
alabaster ornament. The city itself sinks to miniature, the Alps
show afar as a white corrugation, the Adriatic and the Gulf of
Genoa appear on this and on that hand, with Italy between them,
till clouds cover the panorama.

ACT SECOND

SCENE I

THE DOCKYARD, GIBRALTAR

The Rock is seen rising behind the town and the Alameda
Gardens, and the English fleet rides at anchor in the Bay, across
which the 'Spanish shore from Algeciras to Carnero Point shuts in
the West. Southward over the Strait is the African coast.

Spirit of the Years

Our migratory Proskenion now presents
An outlook on the storied Kalpe Rock,

As preface to the vision of the Fleets
Spanish and French, linked for fell purposmgs.

Recording Angel (reciting)

Their motions and manoeuvres, since the fame
Of Bonaparte's enthronement at Milan
Swept swift through Europe's dumbed communities,
Have stretched the English mind to wide surmise.

Many well-based alarms (which strange report
Much aggravates) as to the pondered blow,

Flutter the public pulse ; all points in turn
Malta, Brazil, Wales, Ireland, British Ind—

Being held as feasible for force like theirs,

Of lavish numbers and unrecking aim.

“ Where, where is Nelson ?" questions every tongue ;—
“ How views he so unparalleled a scheme ? ”

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Their slow uncertain apprehensions ask.

“ When Villeneuve puts to sea with all his force,
What may he not achieve, if swift his course ? ”

Spirit of the Years

T ll call in Nelson, who has stepped ashore
For the first time these thrice twelvemonths and more,
And with him one whose insight has alone
Pierced the real project of Napoldon.

Enter Nelson and Collingwood, who pace up and down.
Spirit of the Pities

Note Nelson's worn-out features. Much has he
Sujfered from ghoulish ghast anxiety !

Nelson

In short, dear Coll, the letter which you wrote me
Had so much pith that I was fain to see you ;

For I am sure that you indeed divine
The true intent and compass of a plot
Which I have spelled in vain.

Collingwood

I weighed it thus :

Their flight to the Indies being to draw us off,

That and no more, and clear these coasts of us—

The standing obstacle to his device—

He cared not what was done at Martinique,

Or where, provided that the general end
Should not be jeopardized—that is to say,

The full-united squadron’s quick return.—

Gravina and Vill’neuve, once back to Europe,

Can straight make Ferrol, raise there the blockade.
Then haste to Brest, there to relieve Ganteaume,

And next with four- or five-and-fifty sail
Bear down upon our coast as they see fit.—

SCENE X

PART FIRST

I read they aim to strike at Ireland still,

As formerly, and as I wrote to you.

Nelson

So far your thoughtful and sagacious words
Have hit the facts. But ’tis no Irish bay
The villains aim to drop their anchors in ;

My word for it: they make the Wessex shore,

And this vast squadron handled by ViH’neuve
Is meant to cloak the passage of their strength,
Massed in those transports—we being kept elsewhere
By feigning forces.—Good God, Collingwood,

I must be gone! Yet two more days remain
Ere I can get away.—I must be gone !

Collingwood

Wherever you may go to, my dear lord,

You carry victory with you. Let them launch,

Your name will blow them back, as sou’-west gales
The gulls that beat against them from the shore.

Nelson

Good Collingwood, I know you trust in me;

But ships are ships, and do not kindly come
Out of the slow docks of the Admiralty
Like wharfside pigeons when they are whistled for:—
And there’s a damned disparity of force,

Which means tough work awhile for you and me!

The Spirit of the Years whispers to Nelson.

And I have warnings, warnings, Collingwood,

That my effective hours are shortening here;

Strange warnings now and then, as ’twere within me,
Which, though I fear them not, I recognize! . . .
However, by God’s help, I’ll live to meet
These foreign boasters ; yea, I’ll finish them ;

And then—well, Gunner Death may finish me!

THE DYNASTS

ACT

COLLINGWOOD

View not your life so gloomily, my lord :

One charmed, a needed purpose to fulfil!

Nelson

Ah, Coll. Lead bullets are not all that wound. . . .
I have a feeling here of dying fires,

A sense of strong and deep unworded censure,
Which, compassing about my private life,

Makes all my public service lustreless

In my own eyes.—I fear I am much condemned

For those dear Naples and Palermo days,

And her who was the sunshine of them all! . . .

He who is with himself dissatisfied,

Though all the world find satisfaction in him,

Is like a rainbow-coloured bird gone blind,

That gives delight it shares not. Happiness ?

It’s the philosopher’s stone no alchemy
Shall light on in this world I am weary of.—
Smiling I’d pass to my long home to-morrow
Could I with honour, and my country’s gain.

—But let’s adjourn. I waste your hours ashore
By such ill-timed confessions !

They pass out of sight, and the scene closes.

SCENE II

OFF FERROL

The French and Spanish combined squadrons. On board th
French admiral’s flag-ship. Villeneuve is discovered in his cabin
writing a letter.

Spirit of the Pities

He pens in fits , with pallid restlessness ,

Like one who sees Misfortune walk the wave,

And can nor face nor flee it.

SCENE II

PART FIRST

Spirit ok the Years

He indites
To his long friend the minister Deeres
Words that go heavily / . . .

Villeneuve (writing)

“ I am made the arbiter in vast designs
Whereof I see black outcomes. Do I this
Or do I that, success, that loves to jilt
Her anxious wooer for some careless blade.

Will not reward me. For, if I must pen it,
Demoralized past prayer is the marine—

Bad masts, bad sails, bad officers, bad men;

We cling to naval technics long outworn,

And time and opportunity do not avail me
To take up new. I have long suspected such,
But till I saw my helps, the Spanish ships,

I hoped somewhat.—Brest is my nominal port;
Yet if so, Calder will again attack—

Now reinforced by Nelson or Cornwallis—

And shatter my whole fleet. . . . Shall I admit
That my true inclination and desire
Is to make Cadiz straightway, and not Brest ?
Alas! thereby I fail the Emperor ;

But shame the navy less.—

Your friend, Villeneuve.”
General Lauriston enters.

Lauriston

Admiral, my missive to the Emperor,

Which I shall speed by special courier
From Ferrol this near eve, runs thus and thus :—
“ Gravina’s ships, in Ferrol here at hand,
Embayed but by a temporary wind,

Are all we now await. Combined with these
We sail herefrom to Brest; there promptly give
Cornwallis battle, and release Ganteaume ;

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Thence, all united, bearing Channelwards :—

A step that sets in motion the first wheel
In the proud project of your Majesty
Now to be engined to the very close,

To wit: that a French fleet shall enter in
And hold the Channel four-and-twenty hours.”—
Such clear assurance to the Emperor
That our intent is modelled on his will
I hasten to dispatch to him forthwith. 1

VlLLENEUVE

Yes, Lauriston. I sign to every word.

Lauriston goes out. Villeneuve remains at his table in
reverie.

Spirit of the Years

We may impress him under visible shapes
That seem to shed a silent circling doom ;

He's such an one as can be so impressed\

And this much is among our privileges,

Well bounded as they be.

The Spirits of the Years and of the Pities take the form of white
sea-birds, which alight on the stern-balcony of Villeneuve’s ship,
immediately outside his cabin window. Villeneuve after a while
looks up and sees the birds watching him with large piercing eyes.

'Villeneuve

My apprehensions even outstep their cause,

As though some influence smote through yonder pane.

He gazes listlessly at the birds, and resumes his broodings.

-Why dared I not disclose to him my thought,

As nightly worded by the whistling shrouds,

That Brest will never see our battled hulls
Helming to north in pomp of cannonry
To take the front in this red pilgrimage!

1 Through this tangle of intentions the writer has in the main followed Thiers,
whose access to documents would seem to authenticate his details of the famous
scheme for England’s ruin.

SCENE III

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 thou becst, as I can fancy thee —

Why dost thou 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 tiie Years

I say, as I have said long heretofore,

I know but narrow freedom. Fcelst thou not
We are i?i 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

SCENE III

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.

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

DUMB SHOW

A courier arrives with dispatches, and enters the Emperor’s
quarters, whence he emerges and goes on with other dispatches to
the hut of Decres, lower down. Immediately after, NapolIon
comes out from his hut with a paper in his hand, and musingly
proceeds towards an eminence commanding the Channel.

Along the shore below are forming in a far-reaching line more
than a hundred thousand infantry. On the downs in the rear of the
camps fifteen thousand cavalry are manoeuvring, their accoutrements
flashing in the sun like a school of mackerel. The flotilla lies in
and around the port, alive with moving figures.

With his head forward and his hands behind him the Emperor
surveys these animated proceedings in detail, but more frequently
turns his face towards the telegraph on the cliff to the south-west,
erected to signal when Villeneuve and the combined squadrons
shall be visible on the west horizon.

He summons one of the aides, who descends to the [,hut of
Decres. Decr£s comes out from his hut, and hastens to join the
Emperor. Dumb show ends.

Napoleon and Decres advance to the foreground of the scene.

Napoleon

Decres, this wrestle with Sir Robert Calder
Three weeks aback, whereof we dimly heard,

And clear details of which I have just unsealed,

Is on the whole auspicious for our plan.

It seems that twenty of our ships and Spain’s—

None over eighty-gunned, and some far less—

Leapt at the English off Cape Finisterre
With fifteen vessels of a hundred each.

We coolly fought and orderly as they,

And, but for mist, we had closed with victory.

Two English were much mauled, some Spanish scarred,
And Calder then drew off with his two wrecks
And Spain’s in tow, we giving chase forthwith.

Not overtaking him our admiral,

Having the coast clear for his purposes,

Entered Coruna, and found orders there
To open the port of Brest and come on hither.

Thus hastes the moment when the double fleet
Of Villeneuve and of Ganteaume should appear.

He looks again towards the telegraph.

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Decr^s (with hesitation)

And should they not appear, your Majesty ?

Napoleon

Not? But they will; and do it early, too!

There’s nothing hinders them. My God, they must,
For I have much before me when this stroke
At England’s dealt. I learn from Talleyrand
That Austrian preparations threaten hot,.

While Russia’s hostile schemes are ripening,

And shortly must be met.—My plan is fixed :

I am in trim for each alternative.

If Villeneuve come, I brave the British coast,

Convulse the land with fear (’tis even now
So far distraught, that generals cast about
To find new modes of warfare ; yea, design
Carriages to transport their infantry !).—

Once on the English soil I hold it firm,

Descend on London, and the while my men
Salute the dome of Paul’s I cut the knot
Of all Pitt’s coalitions ; setting free
From bondage to a cold manorial caste
A people who await it.

They stand and regard the chalky cliffs of England, till Napoleon
resumes: ... ,

Should it be

Even that my admirals fail to keep the tryst—

A thing scarce thinkable, when all’s reviewed—

I strike this seaside camp, cross Germany,

With these two hundred thousand seasoned men,

And pause not till within Vienna’s walls .

I cry checkmate. Next, Venice, too, being taken,
And Austria’s other holdings down that way,

The Bourbons also driven from Italy,

I strike at Russia—each in turn, you note,

Ere they can act conjoined.

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Report to me

What has been scanned to-day upon the main,
And on your passage down request them there
To send Darn this way.

Decr£s (as he withdraws)

The Emperor can be sanguine. Scarce can I.

His letters are more promising than mine.

Alas, alas, Villeneuve, my dear old friend,

Why do you pen me this at such a time !

[He retires reading Villenexjve’s letter.

The Emperor walks up and down till Daru, his private secretary,
joins him.

Napoleon

Come quick, Daru ; sit down upon the grass,

And write whilst I am in mind.

First to Villeneuve :—
“ I trust, Vice-Admiral, that before this date
Your fleet has opened Brest, and gone. If not,

These lines will greet you there. But pause not, pray:
Waste not a moment dallying. Sail away :

Once bring my coupled squadrons Channelwards
And England’s soil is ours. All’s ready here,

The troops alert, and every store embarked.

Hold the nigh sea but four-and-twenty hours
And our vast end is gained.”

N ow to Ganteaume :—
“ My telegraphs will have made known to you
My object and desire to be but this,

That you forbid Villeneuve to lose an hour
In getting fit and putting forth to sea,

To profit by the fifty first-rate craft
Wherewith I now am bettered. Quickly weigh,

And steer you for the Channel with all your strength.

I count upon your well-known character,

Your enterprize, your vigour, to do this.

Sail hither, then; and we will be avenged
For centuries of despite and contumely.”

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

Daru

Shall a fair transcript, Sire, be made forthwith ?

Napoleon

This moment. And the courier will depart
And travel without pause.

Daru goes to his office a little lower down, and the Emperor
lingers on the cliffs looking through his glass.

The point of view shifts across the Channel, the Boulogne cliffs
sinking behind the water-line.

SCENE IV

SOUTH WESSEX. A RIDGE-LIKE DOWN NEAR THE COAST

The down commands a wide view over the English Channel in
front of it, including the popular Royal watering-place, with the Isle
of Slingers and its roadstead, where men-of-war and frigates are
anchored. The hour is ten in the morning, and the July sun glows
upon a large military encampment round about the foreground, and
warms the stone field-walls that take the place of hedges here.

Artillery, cavalry, and infantry, English and Hanoverian, are drawn
up for review under the Duke of Cumberland and officers of the
staff, forming a vast military array, which extends three miles, and as
far as the downs are visible.

In the centre by the Royal Standard appears King George on
horseback, and his suite. In a coach drawn by six cream-coloured
Hanoverian horses Queen Charlotte sits with three Princesses; in
another carriage with four horses are two more Princesses. There
are also present with the Royal Party the Lord Chancellor, Lord
Mulgrave, Count Munster, and many other luminaries of fashion
and influence.

The Review proceeds in dumb show; and the din of many
bands mingles with the cheers. The turf behind the saluting-point
is crowded with carriages and spectators on foot

A Spectator

And you ve come to see the sight, like the King
and myself? Well, one fool makes many. What a

THE DYNASTS

ACT n

mampus o’ folk it is here to-day! And what a time we
do live in, between wars and wassailings, the goblin
o’ Boney, and King George in flesh and blood!

Second Spectator

Yes. I wonder King George is let venture down
on this coast, where he might be snapped up in a
moment, like a minney by a her’n, so near as we be
to the field of Boney’s vagaries ! Begad, he’s as like
to land here as anywhere. Gloucester Lodge could
be surrounded, and George and Charlotte carried off
before he could put on his hat, or she her red cloak
and pattens!

Third Spectator

’Twould be no such joke to kidnap ’em as you
think. Look at the frigates down there. Every night
they are drawn up in a line across the mouth of the
Bay, almost touching each other; and ashore a
double line of sentinels, well primed with beer and
ammunition, one at the water’s edge, and the other
on the Esplanade, stretch along the whole front.
Then close to the Lodge a guard is mounted after
eight o’clock; there be pickets on all the hills; at the
Harbour mouth is a battery of twenty four-pounders ;
and over-right ’em a dozen six-pounders, and several
howitzers. And next look at the size of the camp of
horse and foot up here.

First Spectator

Everybody however was fairly gallied this week
when the King went out yachting, meaning to be
back for the theatre; and the time passed, and it got
dark, and the play couldn’t begin, and eight or nine
o’clock came, and never a sign of him. I don’t know
when ’a did land; but ’twas said by all that it was a
foolhardy pleasure to take.

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

Fourth Spectator

He’s a very obstinate and comical old gentleman ;
and by all account ’a wouldn’t make port when asked
to.

Second Spectator

Lard, Lard, if ’a were nabbed, it wouldn’t make a
deal of difference! We should have nobody to zing
to, and play singlestick to, and grin at through horse-
collars, that’s true. And nobody to sign our few
documents. But we should rub along some way,
goodnow.

First Spectator

Step up on this barrow; you can see better. The
troopers now passing are the York Hussars —
foreigners to a man, except the officers—the same
regiment the two young Germans belonged to who
were shot here four years ago. Now come the Light
Dragoons; what a time they take to get all past!
See, the King turns to speak to one of his notables.
Well, well! this day will be recorded in history.

Second Spectator

Or another soon to follow it! (He gazes over the
Channel.) There’s not a speck of an enemy upon that
shiny water yet; but the Brest fleet is zaid to have
put to sea, to act in concert with the army crossing from
Boulogne; and if so the French will soon be here;
when God save us all! I’ve took to drinking neat,
for, says I, one may as well have his innerds burnt out
as shot out, and ’tis a good deal pleasanter for the
man that owns ’em. They say that a cannon-ball
knocked poor Jim Popple’s maw right up into the
futtock-shrouds at the Nile, where ’a hung like a
nightcap out to dry. Much good to him his obeying
his old mother’s wish and refusing his allowance o’
rum!

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

The bands play and the Review continues till past eleven o’clock.
Then follows a sham fight. At noon precisely the royal carriages
draw off the ground into the highway that leads down to the town
and Gloucester Lodge, followed by other equipages in such numbers
that the road is blocked. A multitude comes after on foot.
Presently the vehicles manage to proceed to the watering-place, and
the troops march away to the various camps as a sea-mist cloaks the
perspective.

SCENE V

THE SAME. RAINBARROWS’ BEACON, EGDON HEATH

Night in mid-August of the same summer. A lofty ridge of
heathland reveals itself dimly, terminating in an abrupt slope, at the
summit of which are three tumuli. On the sheltered side of the
most prominent of these stands a hut of turves with a brick chimney.
In front are two ricks of fuel, one of heather and furze for quick
ignition, the other of wood, for slow burning. Something in the feel
of the darkness and in the personality of the spot imparts a sense of
uninterrupted space around, the view by day extending from the cliffs
of the Isle of Wight eastward to Blackdon Hill by Deadman’s Bay
westward, and south across the Valley of the Froom to the ridge that
screens the Channel.

An old and a younger man with pikes loom up, on duty as
beacon-keepers beside the ricks.

Old Man

Now, Jems Purchess, once more mark my words.
Black’on is the point we’ve to watch, and not
Kingsbere; and I’ll tell ’ee for why. If he do land
anywhere hereabout ’twill be inside Deadman’s Bay,
and the signal will straightway come from Black’on.
But there thou’st stand, glowering and staring with all
thy eyes at Kingsbere! I tell ’ee what ’tis, Jems
Purchess, your brain is softening ; and you be getting
too daft for business of state like ours !

Younger Man

You’ve let your tongue wrack your few rames of
good breeding, John.

SCENE V

PART FIRST

Old Man

The words of my Lord-Lieutenant was, whenever
you see Kingsbere-Hill Beacon fired to the eastward,
or Black’on to the westward, light up; and keep your
second fire burning for two hours. Was that our
documents or was it not ?

Younger Man

I don’t gainsay it. And so I keep my eye on
Kingsbere, because that’s most likely o’ the two,
says I.

Old Man

That shows the curious depths of your ignorance.
However, I’ll have patience, and say on. Didst ever
larn geography ?

Younger Man

No. Nor no other corrupt practices.

Old Man

Tcht-tcht!—Well, I’ll have patience, and put it to
him in another form. Dost know the world is round
—eh ? I warrant dostn’t.

Younger Man

I warrant I do!

Old Man

How d’ye make that out, when th’st never been to
school ?

Younger Man

I larned it at church, thank God.

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Old Man

Church ? What have God A’mighty got to do
with profane knowledge? Beware that you baint
blaspheming, Jems Purchess!

Younger Man

I say I did, whether or no! ’Twas the zingers up
in gallery that I had it from. They busted out that
strong with “the round world and they that dwell
therein,” that we common fokes down under could do
no less than believe ’em.

Old Man

Canst be sharp enough in the wrong place as usual
—I warrant canst! However, I’ll have patience with
’en, and say on!—Suppose, now, my hat is the world ;
and there, as might be, stands the Camp of Belong,
where Boney is. The world goes round, so, and
Belong goes round too. Twelve hours pass; round
goes the world still—so. Where’s Belong now ?

A pause. Two other figures, a man’s and a woman’s, rise against
the sky out of the gloom.

Old Man (shouldering his pike)

Who goes there? Friend or foe, in the King’s
name! &

Woman

Piece o’ trumpery ! “ Who goes ” yourself! What
dye talk o’, John Whiting! Can’t your eyes earn
their living any longer, then, that you don’t know your
own neighbours? ’Tis Private Cantle of the Locals
and his wife Keziar, down at Bloom’s-End—who else
should it be!

SCENE V

PART FIRST

Old Man (lowering his pike)

A form o’ words, Mis’ess Cantle, no more;
ordained by his Majesty’s Gover’ment to be spoke by
all we on sworn duty for the defence o’ the country.
Strict rank-and-file rules is our only horn of salvation
in these times.—But, my dear woman, why ever have
ye come lumpering up to Rainbarrows at this time
o’ night?

Woman

We’ve been troubled with bad dreams, owing to
the firing out at sea yesterday; and at last I could
sleep no more, feeling sure that sommat boded of His
coming. And I said to Cantle, I’ll ray myself, and
go up to Beacon, and ask if anything have been heard
or seen to-night. And here we be.

Old Man

Not a sign or sound—all’s as still as a churchyard.
And how is your good man ?

Private (advancing)

Clk! I be all right! I was in the ranks, helping
to keep the ground at the review by the King this
week. We was a wonderful sight—wonderful! The
King said so again and again.—Yes, there was he,
and there was I, though not daring to move a’ eyebrow
in the presence of Majesty. I have come home on a
night’s leave—off there again to-morrow. Boney’s
expected every day, the Lord be praised! Yes, our
hopes are to be fulfilled soon, as we say in the army.

Old Man

There, there, Cantle ; don’t ye speak quite so large,
and stand so over-upright. Your back is as holler as
a fire-dog’s. ‘ Do ye suppose that we on active service
here don’t know war news ? Mind you don’t go

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

taking to your heels when the next alarm comes, as
you did at last year’s.

Private

That had nothing to do with fighting, for I’m as
bold as a lion when I’m up, and “ Shoulder Fawlocks! ”

sounds as common as my own name to me. ’Twas-

(Lowering his voice.) Have ye heard ?

Old Man
To be sure we have.

Private

Ghastly, isn’t it!

Old Man

Ghastly! Frightful!

Younger Man (to Private)

He don’t know what it is! That’s his pride and
puffery. What is it that’s so ghastly—hey ?

Private

Well, there, I can’t tell it. ’Twas that that made
the whole eighty of our company run away— though
we be the bravest of the brave in natural jeopardies,
or the little boys wouldn’t run after us and call us the
Bang-up-Locals.

Woman (in undertones)

u;/ - an f 11 a word or two on’t. It is about
^ h as T ra tot by e ev,7; r±T

olTanc£ffume" the W ° r ’ d ^ Cemd G “”‘ »

SCENE V

PART FIRST

Younger Man
Ye can’t believe all ye hear.

Private

I only believe half. And I only own—such is my
challengeful character—that perhaps He do eat pagan
infants when He’s in the desert. But not Christian
ones at home. O no—’tis too much.

Woman

Whether or no, I sometimes—God forgie me!—
laugh wi’ horror at the queerness o’t, till I am that
weak I can hardly go round house. He should have
the washing of ’em a few times ; I warrant ’a wouldn’t
want to eat babies any more !

A silence, during which they gaze around at the dark dome of
starless sky.

Younger Man

There’ll be a change in the weather soon, by the
look o’t. I can hear the cows moo in Froom Valley
as if I were close to ’em, and the lantern at Max
Turnpike is shining quite plain.

Old Man

Well, come in and taste a drop o’ sommat we’ve
got here, that will warm the cockles of your heart as
ye wamble homealong. We housed eighty tubs last
night for them that shan’t be named—landed at
Lullwind Cove the night afore, though they had a
narrow shave with the riding-officers this run.

They make towards the hut, when a light on the west horizon
becomes visible, and quickly enlarges.

Younger Man

He’s come!

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Old Man

Come he is, though ’tis you that say it! This, then,
is the beginning of what England’s waited for!

They stand and watch the light awhile.

Younger Man

Just what you was praising the Lord for by-now,
Private Cantle.

Private

My meaning was-

Woman (simpering)

O that I hadn’t married a fiery sojer, to make me
bring fatherless children into the world, all through
his dreadful calling! Why didn’t a man of no sprawl
content me!

Old Man (shouldering his pike)

We can’t heed your innocent pratings any longer,
good neighbours, being in the King’s service, and a
hot invasion on. Fall in, fall in, mate. Straight to
the tinder-box. Quick march!

The two men hasten to the hut, and are heard striking a flint and
r .-^■ eturn ^ n S with a lantern they ignite a wisp of furze, and
with this set the first stack of fuel in a blaze. The private of the
Locals and his wife hastily retreat by the light of the flaming beacon,
under which the purple rotundities of the heath show like bronze
and the pits like the eye-sockets of a skull.

Spirit Sinister

Tkis is good, and spells blood. (To the Chorus of the
Years.). I assume that It means to let us carry out this
vn^asion with pleasing slaughter , so as not to disappoint

SCENE V

PART FIRST

Semichorus I of the Years (aerial music)

We carry out ? Nay, but should we
Ordain what bloodshed is to be !

Semichorus II

The Immanent, that urgeth all,

Rides what may or may not befall!

Semichorus I

Ere systemed suns were globed and lit
The slaughters of the race were writ,

Semichorus II

And wasting wars, by land and sea,

Fixed, like all else, immutably !

Spirit Sinister

Well; be it so. My argument is that War makes
rattling good history ; but Peace is poor reading. Sol
back Bonaparte for the reason that he will give pleasure
to posterity.

Spirit of the Pities

Gross hypocrite /

Chorus of the Years

We comprehend him not.

The day breaks over the heathery upland, on which the beacon
is still burning. The morning reveals the white surface of a highway
which, coming from the royal watering-place beyond the hills, stretches
towards the outskirts of the heath and passes away eastward.

DUMB SHOW

Moving figures and vehicles dot the surface of the road, all
progressing in one direction, away from the coast. In the foreground
the shapes appear as those of civilians, mostly on foot, but many in
gigs and tradesmen’s carts and on horseback. When they reach an

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

intermediate hill some pause and look back; others enter on the
next decline landwards without turning their heads.

From the opposite horizon numerous companies of volunteers in
the local uniform of red with green facings , 1 are moving coastwards
in companies; as are also irregular bodies of pikemen without
uniform; while on the upper slopes of the downs towards the shore
regiments of the line are visible, with cavalry and artillery; all
passing over to the coast

At a signal from the Chief Intelligences two Phantoms of Rumour
enter on the highway in the garb of country-men.

First Phantom (to Pedestrians)

Whither so fast, good neighbours, and before break¬
fast, too ? Empty bellies be bad to vamp on.

First Pedestrian

(laden with a pack, and speaking breathlessly)

He’s landed west’ard, out by Abbot’s Beach. And
if you have property you’ll save it and yourseives as
we are doing!

Second Pedestrian

All yesterday the firing at Boulogne
Was like the seven thunders heard in Heaven
When the fierce angel spoke. So did he draw
en s eyes that way, the while his thousand boats
hull-manned, flat-bottomed for the shallowest shore
Dropped down to west, and crossed our frontage here.
Seen.from above they specked the water-shine
As will a flight of swallows towards dim eve
escending on a smooth and loitering stream
i o seek some eyot’s sedge.

Second Phantom

We are sent to enlighten you and ease your souls
Even now a courier canters to the port
1 o check the baseless scare .

^nicknl^e'of“feS/’ 1 taKS l 00 * 1 ( ° ld 39th) re £™ ent

(They are now restored._1909.) een chan § e< ^ f° r n ° apparent reason.

SCENE V

PART FIRST

First Pedestrian (to Second Pedestrian)

These be inland men who, I warrant ’ee, don’t
know a lerret from a lighter! Let’s take no heed of
such, comrade; and hurry on!

First Phantom

Will you not hear

That what was seen behind the midnight mist,

Their oar-blades tossing twinkles to the moon,

Was but a fleet of fishing-craft belated

By reason of the vastness of their haul ?

First Pedestrian

Hey? And d’ye know it ?—Now I look back to
the top o’ Rudgeway the folk do seem as come to a
pause there.—Be this true, never again do I stir my
stumps for any alarm short of the Day of Judgment!
Nine times has my rheumatical rest been broke in
these last three years by hues and cries of Boney
upon us. ’Od rot the feller; now he’s made a fool of
me once more, till my inside is like a wash-tub, what
wi’ being so gallied, and running so leery!—But how
if you be one of the enemy, sent to sow these tares,
so to speak it, these false tidings, and coax us into a
fancied* safety ? Hey, neighbours ? I don’t, after all,
care for this story!

Second Pedestrian
Onwards again!

If Boney’s come, ’tis best to be away ;

And if he’s not, why, we’ve a holiday !

[Exeunt Pedestrians.

The Spirits of Rumour vanish, while the scene seems to become
involved in the smoke from the beacon, and slowly disappears . 1

1 The remains of the lonely hut occupied by the beacon-keepers, consisting of
some half-buried brickbats, and a little mound of peat overgrown with moss, are
still visible on the elevated spot referred to. The two keepers themselves, and
their eccentricities and sayings, are traditionary.

ACT THIRD

SCENE I

BOULOGNE. THE CHATEAU AT PONT-DE-BRIQUES

A room in the Chateau, which is used as the Imperial quarters.
The Emperor Napoleon, and M. Gaspard Monge, the mathe¬
matician and philosopher, are seated at breakfast.

Enter the officer in attendance.

Officer

Monsieur the Admiral Deeres awaits
A moment’s audience with your Majesty,

Or now, or later.

NapolEon

Bid him in at once—

At last Villeneuve has raised the Brest blockade!
Enter Decr£s.

What of the squadrons’ movements, good Deeres ?
Brest opened, and all sailing Channelwards,

Like swans into a creek at feeding-time ?

DecrIls

Such news was what I’d hoped, your Majesty,

To send across this daybreak. But events
Have proved intractable, it seems, of late ;

And hence I haste in person to report

The featless facts that just have dashed my-

SCENE I

PART FIRST

Napoleon (darkening)

Well?

Decr£s

Sire, at the very juncture when the fleets
Sailed out from Ferrol, fever raged aboard
“ L’Achille ” and “l’Algeciras” : later on,

Mischief assailed our Spanish comrades’ ships ;
Several ran foul of neighbours ; whose new hurts,
Being added to their innate clumsiness,

Gave hap the upper hand ; and in quick course
Demoralized the whole ; until- Villeneuve,

Judging that Calder now with Nelson rode.

And prescient of unparalleled disaster
If he pushed on in so disjoint a trim,

Bowed to the inevitable ; and thus, perforce,
Leaving to other opportunity
Brest and the Channel scheme, with vast regret
Steered southward into Cadiz.

Napoleon (having risen from the table)

What!—Is, then,

My scheme of years to be disdained and dashed
By this man’s like, a wretched moral coward,

Whom you must needs foist on me as one fit
For full command in pregnant enterprise !■

Monge (aside)

I’m one too many here! Let me step out
Till this black squall blows over.’ Poor Deeres.
Would that this precious project, disinterred
From naval archives of King Louis’ reign,

Had ever lingered fusting where ’twas found ! 1

[Exit Monge.

1 “ Le projet existe encore aux archives de la marine que Napoleon consultait
incessamment: il sentait que cette marine depuis Louis XIV. avait fait de grandes
choses: le plan de 1 ’Expedition d’Egypte et de la descente en Angleterre se
trouvaient au ministere de la marine. 35 — Capefigue : VEurope pendant le
Consulat et T Empire.

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Napoleon

To help a friend you foul a country’s fame !—
Decr&s, not only chose you this Villeneuve,

But you have nourished secret sour opinions
Akin to his, and thereby helped to scathe
As stably based a project as this age
Has sunned to ripeness. Ever the French marine
Have you decried, ever contrived to bring
Despair into the fleet! Why, this Villeneuve,
Your man, this rank incompetent, this traitor—

Of whom I asked no more than fight and lose,
Provided he detained the enemy—

A frigate is too great for his command!

What shall be said of one who, at a breath,

When a few casual sailors find them sick,

When falls a broken boom or slitten sail,

When rumour hints that Calder’s tubs and Nelson’s
May join, and bob about in company,

Is straightway paralyzed, and doubles back
On all his ripened plans!—

Bring him, ay, bodily ; hale him out from Cadiz,
Compel him up the Channel by main force,

And, having doffed him his supreme command,
Give the united squadrons to Ganteaume !

Decr£s

Your Majesty, while umbraged, righteously,

By an event my tongue dragged dry to tell,

Makes my hard situation over-hard
By your ascription to the actors in’t
Of motives such and such. ’Tis not for me
To answer these reproaches, Sire, and ask
Why years-long mindfulness of France’s fame
In things marine should win no confidence.

I speak ; but am unable to convince !

True is it that this man has been my friend
Since boyhood made us schoolmates ; and I say

SCENE I

PART FIRST

That he would yield the heel-drops of his heart
With joyful readiness this day, this hour,

To do his country service. Yet no less
Is it his drawback that he sees too far.

And there are times, Sire, when a shorter sight
Charms Fortune more. A certain sort of bravery
Some people have—to wit, this same Lord Nelson—
Which is but fatuous faith in their own star,

Swoln to the very verge of childishness,

(Smugly disguised as putting trust in God,

A habit with these English folk ); whereby
A headstrong blindness to contingencies
Carries the actor on, and serves him well
In some nice issues clearer sight would mar.

Such eyeless bravery Villeneuve has not;

But, Sire, he is no coward.

Napoleon

Well, have it so !—What are we going to do ?

My brain has only one wish—to succeed!

DecrSs

My voice wanes weaker with you, Sire; is nought!
Yet these few words, as Minister of Marine,

I’ll venture now.—My process would be thus :—
Our projects for a junction of the fleets
Being well-discerned and read by every eye
Through long postponement, England is prepared.

I would recast them. Later in the year
Form sundry squadrons of this massive one,

Harass the English till the winter time,

Then rendezvous at Cadiz ; where leave half
To catch the enemy’s eye and call their cruizers,
While, rounding Scotland with the other half,

You make the Channel by the eastern strait,

Cover the passage of our army-boats,

And plant the blow.

THE DYNASTS

ACT

Napoleon

And what if they perceive
Our Scottish route, and meet us eastwardly ?

Decr^s

I have thought of it, and planned a countermove ;

I’ll write the scheme more clearly and at length,

And send it hither to your Majesty.

Napoleon

Do so forthwith ; and send me in Daru.

Exit Decres. Re-enter Monge.

Our breakfast, Monge, to-day has been cut short,
And those discussions on the ancient tongues
Wherein you shine, must yield to modern moils.

Nay, hasten not away ; though feeble wills,
Incompetence, ay, imbecility,

In some who feign to serve the cause of France,

Do make me other than myself just now !—

Ah—here’s Daru.

Daru enters. Monge takes his leave.

Daru, sit down and write. Yes, here, at once.

This room will serve me now. What think you, eh P
Villeneuve has just turned tail and run to Cadiz,

So quite postponed—perhaps even overthrown—

My long-conned project against yonder shore
As ’twere a juvenile’s snow-built device

But made for melting! Think of it, Daru,_

My God, my God, how can I talk thereon !

A plan well judged, well charted, well upreared,

To end in nothing ! . . . Sit you down and write.

Napoleon walks up and down, and resumes after a silence:

Write this.—A volte-face ’tis indeed !—Write, write 1

SCENE I

PART FIRST

Daru. (holding pen to paper)
I wait, your Majesty.

Napoleon

First Bernadotte—

Yes ; “ Bernadotte moves out from Hanover
Through Hesse upon Wurzburg and the Danube.—
Marmont from Holland bears along the Rhine,

And joins at Mainz and Wurzburg Bernadotte . . .

While these prepare their routes the army here
Will turn its rump on Britain’s tedious shore,

And, closing up with Augereau at Brest,

Set out full force due eastward. . . .

By the Black Forest feign a straight attack,

The while our purpose is to skirt its left.

Meet in Franconia Bernadotte and Marmont;
Traverse the Danube somewhat down from Ulm;
Entrap the Austrian columns by their rear ;

Surround them, cleave them ; roll upon Vienna,
Where, Austria settled, I engage the Tsar,

While Massdna detains in Italy
The Archduke Charles.

Foreseeing such might shape,
Each high- and by-way to the Danube hence
I have of late had measured, mapped, and judged ;
Such spots as suit for depdts chosen and marked ;
Each regiment’s daily pace and bivouac
Writ tablewise for ready reference ;

All which itineraries are sent herewith.”

So shall I crush the two gigantic sets
Upon the Empire, now grown imminent.

—Let me reflect.—First Bernadotte-But nay,

The courier to Marmont must go first.

Well, well.—The order of our march from hence
I will advise. . . . My knock at George’s door
With bland inquiries why his royal hand
Withheld due answer to my friendly lines,

ACT III

THE DYNASTS

And tossed the irksome business to his clerks,

Is thus perforce delayed. But not for long.

Instead of crossing, thitherward I tour
By roundabout contrivance not less sure!

Daru

I’ll bring the writing to your Majesty.

Napoleon and Daru go out severally.

Chorus of the Years (aerial music)

Recording Angel, trace
This bold campaign his thought has spun apace —
One that bids fair for immortality
Among the earthlings—if immortal deeds
May be ascribed to oafs so temporary —

So transient a race !

It will be called, in rhetoric and rhyme.

As son to sire succeeds,

A model for the tactics of all time ;

“ The Great Campaign of that so famed year Five,"
By millions of mankind not yet alive.

SCENE II

THE FRONTIERS OF UPPER AUSTRIA AND BAVARIA

A view of the country from mid-air, at a point south of the River
Inn, which is seen as a silver thread, winding northward between its
junction with the Salza and the Danube, and forming the boundaries
of the two countries. The Danube shows itself as a crinkled satin
nband, stretching from left to right in the far background of the
picture, the Inn discharging its waters into the larger river.

DUMB SHOW

A vast Austrian army creeps dully along the mid-distance, in the
torm of detached masses and columns of a whitish cast The

SCENE III

PART FIRST

columns insensibly draw nearer to each other, and are seen to be
converging from the east upon the banks of the Inn aforesaid.

A Recording Angel (in recitative)

This movement as of molluscs on a leaf,

Which from our vantage here we scan afar,

Is one manoeuvred by the famous Mack
To countercheck Napollon, still believed
To be intent on England from Boulogne,

And heedless of such rallies in his rear .

Macks enterprise is now to cross Bavaria —

Beneath us stretched in ripening summer peace
As field unwonted for these ugly jars —

And seize on Ulm, past Swabia leftward there .

Outraged Bavaria, simmering in disquiet
At Munich down behind us, Isarfringed.

And torn between his fair wife's hate of France
And his own itch to gird at Austrian bluff
For riding roughshod through his territory,

Wavers from this to that . The while Time hastes
The eastward streaming of Napollons host ,

As soon we see .

The silent insect-creep of the Austrian columns towards the
banks of the Inn continues to be seen till the view fades to nebulous¬
ness and dissolves.

SCENE III

BOULOGNE. THE ST. OMER ROAD

It is a morning at the end of August, and the pale road stretches
out of k the town eastward.

The divisions of the “ Army-for-England ” are making prepara¬
tions to march. Some portions are in marching order. Bands strike
up, and the regiments start on their journey towards the Rhine and
Danube. Bonaparte and his officers watch the movements from an
eminence. The soldiers, as they pace along under their eagles with
beaming eyes, sing “Le Chant du Depart,” and other martial songs,
shout “ Vive l’Empereur! ” and babble of repeating the days of Italy,
Egypt, Marengo, and Hohenlinden.

81 G

THE DYNASTS

ACT in

Napoleon

Anon to England!

Chorus of Intelligences (aerial music)

If Times weird threads so weave /

The scene as it lingers exhibits the gradual diminishing of the
troops along the roads through the undulating August landscape, till
each column is seen but as a train of dust; and the disappearance of
each marching mass over the eastern horizon.

ACT FOURTH

SCENE I

king George's watering-place, south wessex

A sunny day in autumn. A room in the red-brick royal
residence known as Gloucester Lodge . 1

At a front triple-lighted window stands a telescope on a tripod.
Through the open middle sash is visible the crescent-curved expanse
of the Bay as a sheet of brilliant translucent green, on which ride
vessels of war at anchor. On the left hand white cliffs stretch away
till they terminate in St. Aldhelm’s Head, and form a background to
the level water-line on that side. In the centre are the open sea and
blue sky. A near headland rises on the right, surmounted by a
battery, over which appears the remoter bald grey brow of the Isle of
Slingers.

In the foreground yellow sands spread smoothly, whereon there
are sundry temporary erections for athletic sports; and closer at hand
runs an esplanade on which a fashionable crowd is promenading.
Immediately outside the Lodge are companies of soldiers, groups of
officers, and sentries.

Within the room the King and Pitt are discovered. The King's
eyes show traces of recent inflammation, and the Minister has a
wasted look.

King

Yes, yes ; I grasp your reasons, Mr. Pitt,

And grant you audience gladly. More than that,
Your visit to this shore is apt and timely,

And if it do but yield you needful rest
From fierce debate, and other strains of office
Which you and I in common have to bear,

1 This weather-beaten old building, though now an hotel, is but little altered.

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

’Twill be well earned. The bathing is unmatched
Elsewhere in Europe,—see its mark on me!—

The air like liquid life.—But of this matter :

What argue these late movements seen abroad ?
What of the country now the session’s past;

What of the country, eh ? and of the war ?

Pitt

The thoughts I have laid before your Majesty
Would make for this, in sum :—

That Mr. Fox, Lord Grenville, and their friends,
Be straightway asked to join. With Melville gone,
With Sidmouth, and with Buckinghamshire too,
The steerage of affairs has stood of late
Somewhat provisional, as you, sir, know,

With stop-gap functions thrust on offices
Which common weal can tolerate but awhile.

So, for the weighty reasons I have urged,

I do repeat my most respectful hope
To win your Majesty’s ungrudged assent
To what I have proposed.

King

But nothing, sure,

Has been more plain to all, dear Mr. Pitt,

Than that your own proved energy and scope
Is ample, without aid, to carry on
Our just crusade against this Corsican.

Why, then, go calling Fox and Grenville in?

Such helps we need not. Pray you think upon’t,
And speak to me again.—We’ve had alarms
Making us skip like crackers at our heels,

That Bonaparte had landed close hereby.

Pitt

Such rumours come as regularly as harvest.

SCENE I

PART FIRST

King

And now he has left Boulogne with all his host ?

Was it his object to invade at all,

Or was his vast assemblage there a blind ?

Pitt

Undoubtedly he meant invasion, sir,

Had fortune favoured. He may try it yet.

And, as I said, could we but close with Fox-

King

But, but;—I ask, what is his object now?

Lord Nelson’s Captain—Hardy—whose old home
Stands in a peaceful vale hard by us here—

Who came two weeks ago to see his friends,

I talked to in this room a lengthy while.

He says our navy still is in thick night
As to the aims by sea of Bonaparte
Now the Boulogne attempt has fizzled out,

And what he schemes afloat with Spain combined.

The “ Victory ” lay that fortnight at Spithead,

And Nelson since has gone aboard and sailed;

Yes, sailed again. The “Royal Sovereign” follows,
And others her. Nelson was hailed and cheered
To huskiness while leaving Southsea shore,

Gentle and simple wildly thronging round.

Pitt

Ay, sir. Young women hung upon his arm,

And old ones blessed, and stroked him with their
hands.

King

Ah—you have heard, of course. God speed him,
Pitt.

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Pitt

Amen, amen!

King

I read it as a thing

Of signal augury, and one which bodes
Heaven’s confidence in me and in my line,

That I should rule as King in such an age! . . .
Well, well.—So this new march of Bonaparte’s
Was unexpected, forced perchance on him ?

Pitt

It may be so, your Majesty ; it may. . . .

Last noon the Austrian .ambassador,

Whom I consulted ere I posted down,

Assured me that his latest papers word
How General Mack and eighty thousand men
Have made good speed across Bavaria
To wait the French and give them check at Ulm,
That fortress-frontier-town, entrenched and walled,
A place long chosen as a vantage-point
Whereon to encounter them as they outwind
From the blind shades and baffling green defiles
Of the Black Forest, worn with wayfaring.

Here Mack will intercept his agile foe
Hasting to meet the Russians in Bohemia,

And cripple him, if not annihilate.

Thus now, sir, opens out this Great Alliance
Of Russia, Austria, England, whereto I
Have lent my earnest efforts through long months.
And the realm gives her money, ships, and men.—
It claps a muffler round this Cock’s steel spurs,
And leaves me sanguine on his overthrow.

But then,—this coalition of resources
Demands a strong and active Cabinet
To aid your Majesty’s directive hand;

And thus I urge again the said additions—

SCENE I

PART FIRST

These brilliant intellects of the other side
Who stand by Fox. With us conjoined, they-

King

What, what, again—in face of my sound reasons!
Believe me, Pitt, you underrate yourself;

You do not need such aid. The splendid feat

Of banding Europe in a righteous cause

That you have achieved, so soon to put to shame

This wicked bombardier of dynasties

That rule by right Divine, goes straight to prove

We had best continue as we have begun,

And call no partners to our management.

To fear dilemmas horning up ahead

Is not your wont. Nay, nay, now, Mr. Pitt,

I must be firm. And if you love your King
You’ll goad him not so rashly to embrace
This Fox-and-Grenville faction and its friends.

Rather than Fox, why, give me civil war!

Hey, what? But what besides?

Pitt

I say besides, sir, . . . nothing!

A silence.

King (cheerfully)

The Chancellor’s here, and many friends of mine :
Lady Winchelsea, Lord and Lady Chesterfield, Lady
Bulkeley, General Garth, and Mr. Phipps the oculist—
not the least important to me. He is a worthy and a
skilful man. My eyes, he says, are as marvellously
improved in durability as I know them to be in power.
I have arranged to go to-morrow with the Princesses,
and the Dukes of Cumberland, Sussex, and Cambridge
(who are also here) for a ride on the Ridgeway, and
through the Camp on the downs. You’ll accompany
us there ?

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Pitt

I am honoured by your Majesty’s commands.

Pitt looks resignedly out of the window.

What curious structure do I see outside, sir ?

King

It’s but a stage, a type of all the world. The
burgesses have arranged it in my honour. At six
o’clock this evening there are to be combats at single¬
stick to amuse the folk ; four guineas the prize for the
man who breaks most heads. Afterwards there is
to be a grinning match through horse-collars—a very
humorous sport which I must stay here and witness;
for I am interested in whatever entertains my subjects.

Pitt

Not one in all the land but knows it, sir.

King

Now, Mr. Pitt, you must require repose ;

Consult your own convenience then, I beg

On when you leave.

Pitt

I thank your Majesty.

He departs as one whose purpose has failed; and the scene shuts.

SCENE II

PART FIRST

SCENE II

BEFORE THE CITY OF ULM

A prospect of the city from the east, showing in the foreground a
low-lying marshy country bounded in mid-distance by the banks of
the Danube, which, bordered by poplars and willows, flows across
the picture from the left to the Elchingen Bridge near the right of
the scene, and is backed by irregular heights and terraces of
espaliered vines. Between these and the river stands the city,
crowded with old gabled houses and surrounded by walls, bastions,
and a ditch, all the edifices being dominated by the nave and tower
of the huge Gothic Munster.

On the most prominent of the heights at the back—the
Michaelsberg—to the upper-right of the view, is encamped the
mass of the Austrian army, amid half-finished entrenchments.
Advanced posts of the same are seen south-east of the city, not far
from the advanced corps of the French Grand-Army under Soult,
Marmont, Murat, Lannes, Ney, and Dupont, which occupy in a
semicircle the whole breadth of the flat landscape in front, and
extend across the river to higher ground on the right hand of the
panorama.

Heavy mixed drifts of rain and snow are descending impartially
on the French and on the Austrians, the downfall nearly blotting
out the latter on the hills. A chill October wind wails across the
country, and the poplars yield slantingly to the gusts.

DUMB SHOW

Drenched peasants are busily at work, fortifying the heights of
the Austrian position in the face of the enemy. Vague companies
of Austrians above, and of the French below, hazy and indistinct in
the thick atmosphere, come and go without apparent purpose near
their respective lines.

Closer to the spectator Napoleon, in his familiar blue-grey over¬
coat, rides hither and thither with his marshals, haranguing familiarly
the bodies of soldiery as he passes them, and observing and pointing
out the disposition of the Austrians to his companions.

Thicker sheets of rain fly across as the murk of evening increases,
which at length entirely obscures the prospect, and cloaks its bleared
lights and fires.

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

SCENE III

ULM. WITHIN THE CITY

The interior of the Austrian headquarters on the following
morning. A tempest raging without.

General Mack, haggard and anxious, the Archduke Ferdinand,
Prince Schwarzenberg, General Jellachich, Generals Ries c,
Biberach, and other field officers discovered, seated at a table with
a map spread out before them. A wood fire blazes between tall
andirons in a yawning fireplace. At every more than usually
boisterous gust of wind the smoke flaps into the room.'

Mack

The accursed cunning of our adversary
Confounds all codes of honourable war,

Which ever have held as granted that the track
Of armies bearing hither from the Rhine—

Whether in peace or strenuous invasion—

Should, pierce the Schwarzwald, and through Mem-
mingen,

And meet us in our front. But he must wind
And corkscrew meanly round, where foot of man
Can scarce find pathway, stealing up to us
Thiefwise, by our back door! Nevertheless,

If English war-fleets be abreast Boulogne,

As these deserters tell, and ripe to land there,

It destines Bonaparte to pack him back
Across the Rhine again. We’ve but to wait.

And see him go.

Archduke

But who shall say if these bright tales be true ?

Mack

?t en r> the "’ Sma11 matter > y° ur Imperial Highness;
1 he Russians near us daily, and must soon—

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Ay, far within the eight days I have named—

Be operating to untie this knot,

If we hold on.

Archduke

Conjectures these—no more ;

I stomach not such waiting. Neither hope
Has kernel in it. I and my cavalry
With caution, when the shadows fall to-night,

Can bore some hole in this engirdlement;

Outpass the gate north-east; join General Werneck,
And somehow cut our way Bohemia-wards :

Well worth the hazard, in our straitened case!

Mack (firmly)

The body of our force stays here with me.

And I am much surprised, your Highness, much,

You mark not how destructive ’tis to part!

If we wait on, for certain we should wait
In our full strength, compacted, undispersed
By such partition as your Highness plans.

SCHWARZENBERG

There’s truth in urging we should not divide,

But weld more closely.—Yet why stay at all ?
Methinks there’s but one sure salvation left,

To wit, that we conjunctly march herefrom,

And with much circumspection, towards the Tyrol.
The subtle often rack their wits in vain—

Assay whole magazines of strategy—

To shun ill loomings deemed insuperable,

When simple souls by stumbling up to them
Find the grim shapes but air. But let us grant
That the investing French so ring us in
As to leave not a span for such exploit ;

Then go we—throw ourselves upon their steel,

And batter through, or die!—

What say you, Generals ? Speak your minds, I pray.

THE DYNASTS

ACT XV

Jellachich

I favour marching out—the Tyrol way.

Riesc

Bohemia best! The route thereto is open.

Archduke

My course is chosen. O this black campaign,

Which Pitt’s alarmed dispatches pricked us to,

All unforeseeing! Any risk for me
Rather than court humiliation here!

Mack has risen during the latter remarks, walked to the window,
and looked out at the rain. He returns with an air of embarrass-
ment

Mack (to Archduke)

It is my privilege firmly to submit
That your Imperial Highness undertake
No venturous vaulting into risks unknown.—
Assume that you, Sire, as you have proposed,
With your light regiments and the cavalry,
Detach yourself from us, to scoop a way
By circuits northwards through the Rauhe Alps
And Herdenheim, into Bohemia:

Reports all point that you will be attacked,
Enveloped, borne on to capitulate.

What worse can happen here ?—

Remember, Sire, the Emperor deputes me,
Should such a clash arise as has arisen,

To exercise supreme authority.

The honour of our arms, our race, demands
That none of your Imperial Highness’ line
Be pounded prisoner by this vulgar foe,

Who is not France, but an adventurer
Imposing on that country for his gain.

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Archduke

I amply recognize the drear disgrace
Involving Austria if this upstart chief
Should of his cunning seize and hold in pawn
A royal-lineaged son, whose ancestors
Root on the primal rocks of history.

Spirit Ironic

Note that. Five years , and legal brethren they —

This feudal treasure and the upstart man !

Archduke

But it seems clear to me that loitering here
Is full as like to compass our surrender
As moving hence. And ill it therefore suits
The mood of one of my high temperature
To pause inactive while await me means
Of desperate cure for these so desperate ills !

[The Archduke Ferdinand goes out.

A troubled silence follows, during which the gusts call hollowly
into the chimney, and raindrops spit on the fire.

SCHWARZENBERG

The Archduke bears him shrewdly in this course.—
We may as well look matters in the face,

And that we are cooped and cornered is most clear;

Clear is it, too, that but a miracle

Can work to loose us ! I have stoutly held

That this man’s three years’ ostentatious scheme

To fling his army on the tempting shores

Of our allies the English was a—well—

Scarce other than a trick of thimble-rig
To still us into false security.

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

J ELLACHICH

Well, I know nothing. None needs list to me,
But, on the whole, to southward seems the course
For plunging, all in force, immediately.

Another pause.

Spirit Sinister

The Will throws Mack again in agitation :

Ho-ho—what he'll do now !

Spirit of the Pities

Nay, hard one, nay;

1 be clouds weep for him !

Spirit Sinister

. } If he must he must;

And it's good antic at a vacant time !

Mack goes restlessly to the door, and is heard pacing about the
there’ ^ questl0ning the 31(163 311(1 other officers gathered

A General

He wavers like this smoke-wreath that inclines
Ur north, or south, as the storm-currents rule!

Mack (returning)

Bring that deserter hither once again.

“ b '“ 8ht in ' bli,df0ld ' d “ d The

AVell, tell us what he says.

An Officer (after speaking to the prisoner in French)

That the whole body of the BritiswS

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Is even now descending on Boulogne,

And that self-preservation must, of need,

Clear us from Bonaparte ere many days,

Who momently is moving.

Mack

Still retain him.

He walks to the fire, and stands looking into it. The soldier
taken out.

Jellachich

(bending over the map in argument with Riesc)

I much prefer our self-won information ;

And if we have Marshal Soult at Landsberg here,
(Which seems to be the truth, despite this man,)
And Dupont hard upon us at Albeck,

With Ney not far from Giinzburg ; somewhere here,
Or further down the river, lurking Lannes,

Our game’s to draw off southward—if we can!

Mack (turning)

I have it. This we’ll do. You, Jellachich,

Unite with Spangen’s troops at Memmingen,

To fend off mischief there. And you, Riesc,

Will make your utmost haste to occupy
The bridge and upper ground at Elchingen,

And all along the left bank of the stream,

Till you observe whereon to concentrate
And sever th^r connections. I couch here,

And hold the city till the Russians come.

A General (in a low voice)

Disjunction seems of all expedients worst :

If any stay, then stay should every man,

Gather, inlace, and close up hip to hip,

And perk and bristle hedgehog-like with spines!

ACT IV

THE DYNASTS

Mack

The conference is ended, friends, I say,

And orders will be issued here forthwith.

Guns heard

An Officer

Surely that’s from the Michaelsberg above us ?

Mack

Never care. Here we stay. In five more days
The Russians hail, and we regain our bays.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV

BEFORE ULM. THE SAME DAY

A high wind prevails, and rain falls in torrents. An elevated
terrace near Elchingen forms the foreground.

DUMB SHOW

From the terrace Bonaparte surveys and dictates operations
against the entrenched heights of the Michaelsberg that rise in the
middle distance on the right above the city. Through the gauze of
descending waters the French soldiery can be discerned climbing to
the attack under Ney.

They slowly advance, recede, re-advance, halt, A time of
suspense follows. Then they are seen in a state of irregular move¬
ment, even confusion; but in the end they carry the heights with the
bayonet.

Below the spot whereon Napoleon and his staff are gathered,
glistening wet and plastered with mud, obtrudes on the left the village
of Elchingen, now in the hands of the French. Its white-walled
monastery, its bridge over the Danube, recently broken by the
irresistible Ney, wear a desolated look, and the stream, which is
swollen by the rainfall and rasped by the storm, seems wanly to
sympathize.

Anon shells are dropped by the French from the summits they
have gained into the city below. A bomb from an Austrian battery

SCENE V

PART FIRST

falls near Napoleon, and in bursting raises a fountain of mud. The
Emperor retreats with his officers to a less conspicuous station.

Meanwhile Lannes advances from a position near Napoleon till
his columns reach the top of the Frauenberg hard by. The united
corps of Lannes and Ney descend on the inner slope of the heights
towards the city walls, in the rear of the retreating Austrians. One
of the French columns scales a bastion, but Napoleon orders the
assault to be discontinued, and with the wane of day the spectacle
disappears.

SCENE V

THE SAME. THE MICHAELSBERG

A chilly but rainless noon three days later. On the right of the
scene, northward, rise the Michaelsberg heights; below, on the left,
stretches the panorama of the city and the Danube. On a secondary
eminence near at hand, forming a spur of the upper hill, a fire of
logs is burning, the foremost group beside it being Napoleon and
his staff, the latter in gorgeous uniform, the former in his shabby
greatcoat and plain turned-up hat, walking to and fro with his hands
behind him, and occasionally stopping to warm himself. The French
infantry are drawn up in a dense array at the back of these.

The whole Austrian garrison of Ulm marches out of the city gate
opposite Napoleon. General Mack is at the head, followed by
Giulay, Gottesheim, Klenau, Lichtenstein, and many other
officers, who advance to Bonaparte and deliver their swords.

Mack

Behold me, Sire. Mack the unfortunate!

Napoleon

War, General, ever has its ups and downs,

And you must take the better and the worse
As impish chance or destiny ordains.

Come near and warm you here. A glowing fire
Is life on these depressing, mired, moist days
Of smitten leaves down-dropping clammily,

And toadstools like the putrid lungs of mea

(To his lieutenants)

Cause them to stand to right and left of me.

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

The Austrian officers arrange themselves as directed, and the
body of the Austrians now file past their Conqueror, laying down
their arms as they approach; some with angry gestures and words,
others in moody silence.

Listen, I pray you, Generals gathered here.

I tell you frankly that I know not why
Your master wages this wild war with me.

I know not what he seeks by such injustice,

Unless to give me practice in my trade—

That of a soldier—whereto I was bred :

Deemed he my craft might slip from me, unplied ?

Let him now own me still a dab therein !

Mack

Permit me, your Imperial Majesty,

To speak one word in answer; which is this,

No war was wished for by my Emperor :

Russia constrained him to it!

NapolKon

If that be,

You are no more a European power.—

I would point out to him that my resources
Are not confined to these my musters here ;

My prisoners of war, in route for France,

Will see some marks of my resources there!
Two hundred thousand volunteers, right fit,
Will join my standards at a single nod,

And in six weeks prove soldiers to the bone,
Whilst your recruits, compulsion’s scavengings,
Scarce weld to warriors after toilsome years.

But I want nothing on this Continent :

The English only are my enemies.

Ships, colonies, and commerce I desire,

Yea, therewith to advantage you as me.

Let me then charge your Emperor, my brother
To turn his feet the shortest way to peace.—

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, tke 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.

Spirit Ironic

And yet, my friend,

The Will Itself might smile at this collapse
Of Austria! s men-at-arms, so dr oily 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 !

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Spirit of the Pities

♦

But see the intolerable antilogy
Of making figments feel.

Spirit Ironic

Logic s in that.

It does not, I must own, quite play the game.

Chorus of Ironic Spirits (aerial music)

And this day wins for Ulm a dingy fame,

Which centuries shall not bleach from her old name !

The procession of Austrians continues till the scene is hidden by
haze.

SCENE VI

LONDON. SPRING GARDENS

Before Lord Malmesbury’s house, on a Sunday morning in the
same autumn. Idlers pause and gather in the background.

Pitt enters, and meets Lord Mulgrave.

Mulgrave

Good day, Pitt. Ay, these leaves that skim the
ground

With withered voices, hint that sunshine-time
Is well-nigh past.—And so the game’s begun
Between him and the Austro-Russian force,

As second movement in the faceabout
From Boulogne shore, with which he has hocussed
us?—

What has been heard on’t ? Have they clashed as
yet?

Pitt

The Emperor Francis, partly at my instance,

Has thrown the chief command on General Mack,

ioo

SCENE VI

PART FIRST

A man most capable and far of sight.

He centres by the Danube^bank at Ulm,

A town well-walled, and firm for leaning on
To intercept the French in their advance
From the Black Forest towards the Russian troops
Approaching from the east If Bonaparte
Sustain his marches at the break-neck speed
That all report, they must have met ere now.

—There is a rumour . . . quite impossible! . . .

Mulgrave

You still have faith in Mack as strategist?

There have been doubts of his far-sightedness.

Pitt (hastily)

I know, I know.—I am calling here at Malmesbury’s
At somewhat an unceremonious time
To ask his help to translate this Dutch print
The post has brought. Malmesbury is great at
Dutch,

Learning it long at Leyden, years ago.

He draws a newspaper from his pocket, unfolds it, and glances it
down.

There’s news here unintelligible to me
Upon the very matter! You’ll come in ?

They call at Lord Malmesbury’s. He meets them in the hall,
and welcomes them with an apprehensive look of foreknowledge.

Pitt

Pardon this early call. The packet’s in,

And wings me this unreadable Dutch paper,

So, as the offices are closed to-day,

I have brought it round to you.

(Handing the paper.)

What does it say ?
For God’s sake, read it out. You know the tongue.

IOI

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV*

Malmesbury ^with hesitation)

I have glanced it through already—more than once—
A copy having reached me, too, by now . . .

We are in the presence of a great disaster!

See here. It says that Mack, enjailed in Ulm
By Bonaparte—from four sides shutting round—
Capitulated, and with all his force
Laid down his arms before his conqueror!

Pitt’s face changes. A silence.

Mulgrave

Outrageous! Ignominy unparalleled !

Pitt

By God, my lord, these statements must be false!
These foreign prints are trustless as Cheap Jack
Dumfounding yokels at a country fair.

I heed no word of it.—Impossible.

What! Eighty thousand Austrians, nigh in touch
With Russia s levies that Kutuzof leads,

To lay down arms before the war’s begun ?

’Tis too much!

Malmesbury

. T But I fear it is too true!

Note the assevered source of the report—

One beyond thought of minters of mock tales
1 he writer adds that military wits
Cry that the Little Corporal now makes war
In a new way, using his soldiers’ legs

hu? 4 arms ’ t0 bring him victory,
rta-ha! The quip must sting the Corporal’s foes.

Pitt (after a pause)

O vacillating Prussia! Had she moved,
Had she but planted one foot firmly down,

102

SCENE vr

PART FIRST

All this had been averted.—I must go.

’Tis sure, ’tis sure, I labour but in vain !

Malmesbury accompanies him to the door, and Pitt walks
away disquietedly towards Whitehall, the other two regarding him as
he goes.

Mulgrave

Too swiftly he declines to feebleness,

And these things well might shake a stouter frame!

Malmesbury

Of late the burden of all Europe’s cares,

Of hiring and maintaining half her troops,

His single pair of shoulders has upborne,

Thanks to the obstinacy of the King.—

His thin, strained face, his ready irritation,

Are ominous signs. He may not be for long.

Mulgrave

He alters fast, indeed,—as do events.

Malmesbury

His labour’s lost; and all our money gone !

It looks as if this doughty coalition

On which we have lavished so much pay and pains

Would end in wreck.

Mulgrave

ah is not over yet;

The gathering Russian forces are unbroke.

Malmesbury

Well; we shall see. Should Boney vanquish these,
And silence all resistance on that side,

His move will then be backward to Boulogne,

And so upon us.

103

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Mulgrave

Nelson to our defence!
Malmesbury

Ay; where is Nelson? Faith, by this late time
He may be sodden ; churned in Biscay swirls ;

Or blown to polar bears by boreal gales ;

Or sleeping amorously in some calm cave
On the Canaries’ or Atlantis’ shore
Upon the bosom of his Dido dear,

For all that we know! Never a sound of him
Since passing Portland one September day—

To make for Cadiz ; so ’twas then believed.

Mulgrave

He’s staunch. He’s watching, or I am much deceived.

Mulgrave departs. Malmesbury goes within. The scene
shuts.

104

ACT FIFTH

SCENE I

OFF CAPE TRAFALGAR

A bird’s-eye view of the sea discloses itself. It is daybreak, and
the broad face of the ocean is fringed on its eastern edge (right) by
the Cape and the Spanish shore. On the rolling surface immediately
beneath the eye, ranged more or less in two parallel lines running
north and south, one group from the twain standing off somewhat,
are the vessels of the combined French and Spanish navies, whose
canvases, as the sun edges upward, shine in its rays like satin.

On the western (left) horizon two columns of ships appear in full
sail, small as moths to the aerial vision. They are bearing down
towards the combined squadrons.

Recording Angel I (intoning from his book)

At last Villeneuve accepts the sea and fate.

Despite the Cadiz council called of late,

Whereat his stoutest captains—men the first
To do all mortals durst —

Willing to sail, and bleed, and bear the worst,

Short of cold suicide, did yet opine
That plunging mid those teeth of treble line
In jaws of oaken wood,

Held open by the English navarchy
With suasive breadth and artful modesty,

Would smack of purposeless foolhardihood.

Recording Angel II
But word came, writ in mandatory mood,

105

ACT V

THE DYNASTS

To put from Cadiz, gain Toulon, and straight
At.a said sign on Italy operate.

Moreover that Villeneuve, arrived as planned ,

Would find Rosily in supreme command .—

Gloomy Villeneuve grows rash, and, darkly brave,
Leaps to meet war, storm, Nelson—even the grave.

Semichorus I of the Years (aerial music)

Ere the concussion hurtle, draw abreast
Of the sea.

Semichorus II

Where Nelson! s hulls are rising from the west,

Silently.

Semichorus I

Each linen wing outspread, each man and lad
Sworn to be

Semichorus II

Amid the vanmost, or for Death, or glad
Victory !

The point of sight descends till it is near the deck of the
“ Bucentaure,” the flag-ship of Villeneuve. Present thereon are
the Admiral, his Flag-Captain Magendie, Lieutenant Daudignon,
other naval officers and seamen.

Magendie

All night we have read their signals in the air,
Whereby the peering frigates of their van
Have told them of our trend.

Villeneuve

The enemy

Makes threat as though to throw him on our stern :
Signal the fleet to wear; bid Gravina

106

SCENE I

PART FIRST

To come in from manoeuvring with his twelve,

And range himself in line.

Officers murmur.

I say again

Bid Gravina draw hither with his twelve,

And signal all to wear!—and come upon
The larboard tack with every bow anorth !—

So we make Cadiz in the worst event,

And patch our rags up there. As we head now
Our only practicable thoroughfare
Is through Gibraltar Strait—a fatal door!

Signal to close the line and leave no gaps.
Remember, too, what I have already told
Remind them of it now. They must not pause
For signallings from me amid a strife
Whose chaos may prevent my clear discernment,

Or may forbid my signalling at all.

The voice of honour then becomes the chiefs;

Listen they thereto, and set every stitch
To heave them on into the fiercest fight.

Now I will sum up all: heed well the charge ;

Each captain, petty officer, and man
I s only at his post when under fire.

The ships of the whole fleet turn their bows from south to north
as directed, and close up in two parallel curved columns, the concave
side of each column being towards the enemy, and the interspaces of
the first column being, in general, opposite the hulls of the second.

An Officer

(straining his eyes towards the English fleet)

How they skip on ! Their overcrowded sails
Bulge like blown bladders in a tripeman’s shop
The market-morning after slaughterday!

Petty Officer (aside)

It’s morning before slaughterday with us,

I make so bold to bode!

107

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

The English Admiral is seen to be signalling to his fleet. The
signal is: “ England expects every man will do his duty.” A
loud cheering from all the English ships comes undulating on the
wind when the signal is read.

VlLLENEUVE

They are signalling too.—Well, business soon begins !
You will reserve your fire. And be it known
That we display no admirals’ flags at all
Until the action’s past. ’Twill puzzle them,

And work to our advantage when we close.—

Yes, they are double-ranked, I think, like us;

But we shall see anon.

Magendie

The foremost one
Makes for the “ Santa Ana.” In such case
The “ Fougueux” might assist her.

VlLLENEUVE

Be it so—

There’s time enough.—Our ships will be in place,

And ready to speak back in iron words
When theirs cry Hail! in the same sort of voice.

They prepare to receive the northernmost column of the enemy’s
ships headed by the “ Victory,” trying the distance by an occasional
single shot. During their suspense a discharge is heard southward,
and turning they behold Collingwood at the head of his column in
the “Royal Sovereign,” just engaging with the Spanish “Santa Ana.”
Meanwhile the “ Victory ” draws still nearer, preserving silence with
brazen sang-froid. At a concerted moment full broadsides are dis-
charged into her simultaneously from the “ Bucentaure,” the
Santisima Trinidad,” and the “ Redoutable.”

When the smoke clears the “ Victory’s ” mizzen-topmast,' with
spars and a quantity of rigging, is seen to have fallen, her wheel to
be shot away, and her deck encumbered with dead and wounded
men.

VlLLENEUVE

Tis well! But see ; their course is undelayed,
And still they near in clenched audacity!

108

SCENE I

PART FIRST

Daudignon

This northmost column bears upon our beam.

Their prows will pierce us thwartwise. That’s the aim,

Magendie

Which aim deft Lucas o’ the “ Redoutable”

Most gallantly bestirs him to outscheme.—

See, how he strains, that on his timbers fall
Blows that were destined for his Admiral!

During this the French ship “ Redoutable ” is moving forward
to interpose itself between the approaching “Victory” and the
“ Bucentaure.”

VlLLENEUVE

Now comes it! The “Santfsima Trinidad,”

The old “ Redoutable’s ” hard sides, and ours,

Will take the touse of this bombastic blow.

Your grapnels and your boarding-hatchets—ready!
We’ll dash our eagle on the English deck,

And swear to fetch it!

Crew

Aye! We swear. Huzza!

Long live the Emperor!

But the “Victory” suddenly swerves to the rear of the
“ Bucentaure,” and crossing her stern-waters, discharges a broadside
into her and the “ Redoutable ” endwise, wrapping the scene in
folds of smoke.

The point of view changes.

109

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

SCENE II

THE SAME. THE QUARTER-DECK OF THE “VICTORY”

The van of each division of the English fleet has drawn to the
windward side of the combined fleets of the enemy, and broken their
order, the “Victory” being now parallel to and alongside the
“Redoutable,” the “ T£meraire ” taking up a station on the other
side of that ship. The “ Bucentaure ” and die “ Santfsima Trinidad ”
become jammed together a little way ahead. A smoke and din of
cannonading prevail, amid which the studding-sail booms are shot
away.

Nelson, Hardy, Blackwood, Secretary Scott, Lieutenant
Pasco, Burke the Purser, Captain Adair of the Marines, and other
ofBcers are on or near the quarter-deck.

Nelson

See, there, that noble fellow Collingwood,

How straight he helms his ship into the fire!—

Now you’ll haste back to yours (to Blackwood).

—We must henceforth
Trust to the Great Disposer of events,

And justice of our cause! . . .

[Blackwood leaves.

The battle grows hotter. A double-headed shot cuts down seven
or eight marines on the “Victory’s” poop.

Captain Adair, part those marines of yours,

And hasten to disperse them round the ship.—

Your place is down below, Burke, not up here;

Ah, yes ; like David you would see the battle!

A heavy discharge of musket-shot comes from the tops of the
“ Santfsima Trinidad.” Adair and Pasco fall. Another swathe of
marines is mowed down by chain-shot

Scott

My lord, I use to you the utmost prayers
That I have privilege to shape in words :

iro

SCENE II

PART FIRST

Remove your stars and orders, I would beg ;

That shot was aimed at you.

Nelson

They were awarded to me as an honour,

And shall I do despite to those who prize me,
And slight their gifts ? No, I will die with them,
If die I must.

He walks up and down with Hardy.

Hardy

At least let’s put you on

Your old greatcoat, my lord—(the air is keen).—
’Twill cover all. So while you still retain
Your dignities, you baulk these deadly aims.

Nelson

Thank ’ee, good friend. But no,—I haven’t time,

I do assure you—not a trice to spare,

As you well see.

A few minutes later Scott falls dead, a bullet having pierced his
skull. Immediately after a shot passes between the Admiral and
the Captain, tearing the instep of Hardy’s shoe, and striking away
the buckle. They shake off the dust and splinters it has scattered
over them. Nelson glances round, and perceives what has happened
to his secretary.

Nelson

Poor Scott, too, carried off! Warm work this, Hardy ;
Too warm to go on long.

Hardy

I think so, too ;

Their lower ports are blocked against our hull,

And our charge now is less. Each knock so near
Sets their old wood on fire.

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Nelson

Ay, rotten as peat.

What’s that ? I think she has struck, or pretty nigh !
A cracking of musketry.

Hardy

Not yet.—Those small-arm men there, in her tops,
Thin our crew fearfully. Now, too, our guns
Have to be dipped full down, or they would rake
The “ T6m6raire ” there on the other side.

Nelson

True.—While you deal good measure out to these,
Keep slapping at those giants over here—

The “Trinidad,” I mean, and the “ Bucentaure,”

To win’ard—swelling up so pompously.

Hardy

I’ll see no slackness shall be shown that way.

They part and go in their respective directions. Gunners, naked
to the waist and reeking with sweat, are now in swift action on the
several decks, and firemen carry buckets of water hither and thither.
The killed and wounded thicken around, and are being lifted and
examined by the surgeons. Nelson and Hardy meet again.

Nelson

Bid still the firemen bring more bucketfuls,

And dash the water into each, new hole
Our guns have gouged in the “ Redoutable,”

Or we shall all be set ablaze together.

Hardy

Let me once more advise, entreat, my lord,

That you do not expose yourself so clearly,

ri2

SCENE II

PART FIRST

Those fellows in the mizzen-top up there
Are peppering round you quite perceptibly.

Nelson

Now, Hardy, don’t offend me. They can’t aim ;
They only set their own rent sails on fire.—

But if they could, I would not hide a button
To save ten lives like mine. I have no cause
To prize it, I assure ’ee.—Ah, look there,

One of the women hit,—and badly, too.

Poor wench! Let some one shift her quickly down.

Hardy

My lord, each humblest sojourner on the seas,
Dock-labourer, lame longshore-man, bowed bargee,
Sees it as policy to shield his life
For those dependent on him. Much more, then,
Should one upon whose priceless presence here
Such issues hang, so many strivers lean,

Use average circumspection at an hour
So critical for us all.

Nelson

Ay, ay. Yes, yes;

I know your meaning, Hardy; and I know
That you disguise as frigid policy
What really is your honest love of me.

But, faith, I have had my day. My work’s nigh done ;
I serve all interests best by chancing it
Here with the commonest.—Ah, their heavy guns
Are silenced every one! Thank God for that.

Hardy

’Tis so. They only use their small arms now.

He goes to larboard to see what is progressing on that side
between his ship and the “Santisima Trinidad.”

113

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Officer (to a seaman)

Swab down these stairs. The mess of blood about
Makes ’em so slippery that one’s like to fall
In carrying the wounded men below.

While Captain Hardy is still a little way off, Lord Nelson
turns to walk aft, when a ball from one of the muskets in the mizzen-
top of the “Redoutable” enters his left shoulder. He falls upon
his face on the deck. Hardy looks round, and sees what has
happened.

Hardy (hastily)

Ah—what I feared, and strove to hide I feared! . . .

He goes towards Nelson, who in the meantime has been lifted
by Sergeant-Major Secker and two seamen.

Nelson

Hardy, I think they’ve done for me at last!

Hardy

I hope not!

Nelson

Yes. My backbone is shot through.

I have not long to live.

The men proceed to carry him below.

Those tiller ropes

They’ve torn away, get instantly repaired!

At sight of him borne along wounded there is great agitation
among the crew.

Cover my face. There will no good be done
By drawing their attention off to me.

Bear me along, good fellows ; I am but one
Among the many darkened here to-day !

He is carried on to the cockpit over the crowd of dead and wounded.
(To the Chaplain)

Doctor, I m gone. I am waste o’ time to you.

114

SCENE III

PART FIRST

Hardy (remaining behind)

Hills, go to Collingwood and let him know
That we’ve no Admiral here.

He passes on.

A Lieutenant

Now quick and pick him off who did the deed—

That white-bloused man there in the mizzen-top.

Pollard, a midshipman (shooting)

No sooner said than done. A pretty aim !

The Frenchman falls dead upon the poop.

The spectacle seems now to become enveloped in smoke, and
the point of view changes.

SCENE III

THE SAME. ON BOARD THE “ BUCENTAURE *

The bowsprit of the French Admiral's ship is stuck fast in the
stem-gallery of the “Santfsima Trinidad, 5 ’ the starboard side of the
“ Bucentaure 55 being shattered by shots from two English three-
deckers which are pounding her on that hand. The poop is also
reduced to ruin by two other English ships that are attacking her
from behind.

On the quarter-deck are Admiral Villeneuve, the Flag-
Captain Magendie, Lieutenants Daudignon, Fournier, and
others, anxiously occupied. The whole crew is in desperate action of
battle and stumbling among the dead and dying, who have fallen too
rapidly to be carried below.

Villeneuve

We shall be crushed if matters go on thus.—

11 S

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Direct the “ Trinidad ” to let her drive,

That this foul tangle may be loosened clear!

Daudignon

It has been tried, sir; but she cannot move.

VlLLENEUVE

Then signal to the “ Hero ” that she strive
Once more to drop this way.

Magendie

We may make signs,
But in the thickened air what signal’s marked ?—
’Tis done, however.

VlLLENEUVE

The “ Redoutable ”

And “ Victory ” there,—they grip in dying throes !
Something’s amiss on board the English ship.

Surely the Admiral’s fallen ?

A Petty Officer

Sir, they say

That he was shot some hour, or half, ago.—

With dandyism raised to godlike pitch
He stalked the deck in all his jewellery,

And so was hit.

Magendie

Then Fortune sij^ws her face!

We have scotched England in dispatching him.

(He watches.)

Yes! He commands no more ; and Lucas, joying,
Has taken steps to board. Look, spars are laid,

And his best men are mounting at his heels.

A crash is heard.

SCENE III

PART FIRST

VlLLENEUVE

Ah, God—he is too late! Whence came that hurl
Of heavy grape ? The smoke prevents my seeing
But at brief whiles.—The boarding band has fallen,
Fallen almost to a man.—’Twas well assayed!

Magendie

That’s from their “Tdmeraire,” whose vicious broadside
Has cleared poor Lucas’ decks.

VlLLENEUVE

And Lucas, too.

I see him no more there. His red planks show
Three hundred dead if one. Now for ourselves!

Four of the English three-deckers have gradually closed round
the “ Bucentaure,” whose bowsprit still sticks fast in the gallery of the
“ Santisima Trinidad.” A broadside comes from one of the English,
resulting in worse havoc on the “Bucentaure.” The main and
mizzen masts of the latter fall, and the boats are beaten to pieces. A
raking fire of musketry follows from the attacking ships, to which the
“ Bucentaure ” heroically continues still to keep up a reply.

Captain Magendie falls wounded. His place is taken by
Lieutenant Daudignon.

VlLLENEUVE

Now that the fume has lessened, code my biddance
Upon our only mast, and tell the van
At once to wear, and come into the fire.

(Aside) If it be true that, as he sneers, success
Demands of me but cool audacity,

To-day shall leave him nothing to desire!

Musketry continues. Daudignon falls. He is removed, his
post being taken by Lieutenant Fournier. Another crash comes,
and the deck is suddenly encumbered with rigging.

Fournier

There goes our foremast! How for signalling now ?

ii 7

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

VlLLENEUVE

~io try that longer, Fournier, is in vain
Upon this haggard, scorched, and ravaged hulk,
Her decks all reeking with such gory shows,

Her starboard side in rents, her stern nigh gone!
How does she keep afloat ?—

“ Bucentaure,” O unlucky good old ship!

My part in you is played. Ay—I must go ;

I must tempt Fate elsewhere,—if but a boat
Can bear me through this wreckage to the van.

Fournier

Our boats are stove in, or as full of holes
As the cook’s skimmer, from their cursed balls!

Musketry. Villeneuve’s Head-of-Staff, de Prigny, falls
■wounded, and many additional men. Villeneuve glances
troublously from ship to ship of his fleet.

Villeneuve

How hideous are the waves, so pure this dawn!—
Red-frothed; and friends and foes all mixed therein.—
Can we in some way hail the “ Trinidad ”

And get a boat from her ?

They attempt to attract the attention of the “ Santisima Trinidad ”
by shouting.

Impossible ;

Amid the loud combustion of this strife
As well try holloing to the antipodes! . . .

So here I am. . The bliss of Nelson’s end
Will not be mine; his full refulgent eve
Becomes my midnight! Well; the fleets shall see
That I can yield my cause with dignity.

The “Bucentaure” strikes her flag.

A boat then puts off from the English ship “Conqueror,” and
Villeneuve, having surrendered his sword, is taken out from the

118

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

“ Bucentaure.” But being unable to regain her own ship, the boat
is picked up by the “Mars,” and the French Admiral is received
aboard her.

The point of view changes.

SCENE IV

THE SAME. THE COCKPIT OF THE “ VICTORY ”

A din of trampling and dragging overhead, which is accompanied
by a continuous ground-bass roar from the guns of the warring fleets,
culminates at times in loud concussions. The wounded are lying
around in rows for treatment, some groaning, some silently dying,
some dead. The gloomy atmosphere of the low-beamed deck is
pervaded by a thick haze of smoke, powdered wood, and other dust,
and is heavy with the fumes of gunpowder and candle-grease, 'the
odour of drugs and cordials, and the smell from abdominal wounds.

Nelson, his face now pinched and wan with suffering, is lying
undressed in a midshipman’s berth, dimly lit by a lantern. * Dr.
Beatty, Dr. Magrath, the Rev. Dr. Scott the Chaplain, Burke the
Purser, the Steward, and a few others stand around.

Magrath (in a low voice)

Poor Ram, and poor Tom Whipple, have just gone.

Beatty

There was no hope for them.

Nelson (brokenly)

Who have just died ?

Beatty

Two who were badly hit by now, my lord;
Lieutenant Ram and Mr. Whipple.

119

THE DYNASTS

ACT \

Nelson

Ah ! “

So many lives—in such a glorious cause. . . .

I join them soon, soon, soon!—O where is Hardy?
Will nobody bring Hardy to me—none ?

He must be killed, too. Surely Hardy’s dead ?

A Midshipman

He’s coming soon, my lord. The constant call
On his full heed of this most mortal fight
Keeps him from hastening hither as he would.

Nelson

I’ll wait, I’H wait. I should have thought of it.

Presently Hardy comes down. Nelson and he grasp hands.
Hardy, how goes the day with us and England ?

Hardy

Well; very well, thank God for’t, my dear lord.
Villeneuve their Admiral has this moment struck,
And put himself aboard the “ Conqueror.”

Some fourteen of their first-rates, or about

Thus far we’ve got The said “ Bucentaure ” chief:

ihe “Santa Ana,” the “ Redoutable,”

The “Fougueux,” the “Santisima Trinidad,”

“San Augustino,” “San Francisco,” “Aigle”-
And our old “Swiftsure,” too, we’ve grappled back,
To every seaman s joy. But now their van
Plas tacked to bear round on the “Victory ”

And crush her by sheer weight of wood and brass :
Three of our best I am therefore calling up,

And make no doubt of worsting theirs, and France.

Nelson

That’s well. I swore for twenty—But it’s well.

I 20

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

Hardy

We’ll have ’em yet! But without you, my lord,

We have to make slow plodding do the deeds
That sprung by inspiration ere you fell;

And on this ship the more particularly.

Nelson

No, Hardy.—Ever ’twas your settled fault
So modestly to whittle down your worth.

But I saw stuff in you which admirals need
When, taking thought, I chose the “Victory’s” keel
To do my business with these braggarts in.

A business finished now, for me!—Good friend,

Slow shades are creeping on me. ... I scarce see
you.

Hardy

The smoke from ships upon our win’ard side,

And the dust raised by their worm-eaten hulks,

When our balls touch ’em, blind the eyes, in truth.

Nelson

No ; it is not that dust; ’tis dust of death
That darkens me.

A shock overhead. Hardy goes up. One or two other officers
go up, and by and by return.

What was that extra noise ?
Officer

The “ Formidable ” passed us by, my lord,

And thumped a stunning broadside into us.—

But, on their side, the “ Hero’s ” captain’s fallen ;

The “ Algeciras ” has been boarded, too,

By Captain Tyler, and the captain shot:

I 2 I

ACT V

THE DYNASTS

Admiral Gravina desperately holds out;

They say he’s lost an arm.

N ELSON

And we ourselves—

Who have we lost on board here ? Nay, but tell me!

Beatty

Besides poor Scott, my lord, and Charles Adair,
Lieutenant Ram, and Whipple, captain’s clerk,

There’s Smith, and Palmer, midshipmen, just killed,
And fifty odd of seamen and marines.

Nelson

Poor youngsters ! Scarred old Nelson joins you soon.

Beatty

And wounded : Bligh, lieutenant; Pasco, too,

And Reeves, and Peake, lieutenants of marines,

And Rivers, Westphall, Bulkeley, midshipmen,

With, of the crew, a hundred odd just now,
Unreckoning those late fallen not brought below.

Burke

That fellow in the mizzen-top, my lord,

Who made it his affair to wing you thus,

We took good care to settle ; and he fell

Like an old rook, smack from his perch, stone dead.

N ELSON

’Twas not worth while!—He was, no doubt, a man
Who in simplicity and sheer good faith
Strove but to serve his country. Rest be to him!
And may his wife, his friends, ’his little ones,

122

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

If such he had, be tided through their loss,
And soothed amid the sorrow brought by me.

Hardy re-enters.

Who’s that?
now ?

Ah—here you come!
Hardy

How, Hardy,

The Spanish Admiral’s rumoured to be wounded,

We know not with what truth. But, be as ’twill,

He sheers away with all he could call round,

And some few frigates, straight to Cadiz port

A violent explosion is heard above the confused noises on deck
A midshipman goes above and returns.

Midshipman (in the background)

It is the enemy’s first-rate, the “ Achille,”

Blown to a thousand atoms!—While on fire,

Before she burst, the captain’s woman there,
Desperate for life, climbed from the gunroom port
Upon the rudder-chains; stripped herself stark,

And swam for the Pickle’s boat. Our men in charge,
Seeing her great breasts bulging on the brine,

Sang out, “ A mermaid ’tis, by God ! ”—then rowed
And hauled her in.—

Burke

Such unbid sights obtrude

On death’s dyed stage!

Midshipman

Meantime the “ Achille ” fought on,
Even while the ship was blazing, knowing well
The fire must reach their powder; which it did.

The spot is covered now with floating men,

Some whole, the main in parts; arms, legs, trunks,
heads,

Bobbing with tons of timber on the waves,

And splinters looped with entrails of the crew.

123

THE DYNASTS

ACT-V

Nelson (arousing)

Our course will be to anchor. Let them know.

Hardy

But let me ask, my lord, as needs I must,

Seeing your state, and that our work’s not done,
Shall I, from you, bid Admiral Collingwood
Take full on him the conduct of affairs ?

Nelson (trying to raise himself)

Not while I live, I hope! No, Hardy ; no.
Give Collingwood my order. Anchor all!

Hardy (hesitating)

You mean the signal’s to be made forthwith ?

Nelson

I do!—By God, if but our carpenter
Could rig me up a jury-backbone now,

To last one hour—until the battle’s done,

I d see to it! But here I am—stove in—

Broken—all logged and done for! Done, ay done !

Beatty (returning from the other wounded)

My lord, I must implore you to lie calm!

You shorten what at best may not be long.

Nelson (exhausted)

I know, I know, good Beatty! Thank you well.
Hardy, I was impatient. Now I am still.

Sit here a moment, if you have time to spare ?

5, “v others reUre > and the two abide in silence, except
tor the trampling overhead and the moans from adjoining berths.
Nelson is apparently in less pain, seeming to doze.

124

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

Nelson (suddenly)

What are you thinking, that you speak no word ?

Hardy (waking from a short reverie)

Thoughts all confused, my lord their needs on deck,
Your own sad state, and your unrivalled past ;

Mixed up with flashes of old things afar—

Old childish things at home, down Wessex way,

In the snug village under Blackdon Hill

Where I was born. The tumbling stream, the garden,

The placid look of the grey dial there,

Marking unconsciously this bloody hour,

And the red apples on my father’s trees,

Just now full ripe.

Nelson

Ay, thus do little things
Steal into my mind, too. But ah, my heart
Knows not your calm philosophy!—There’s one—
Come nearer to me, Hardy.—One of all,

As you well guess, pervades my memory now;

She, and my daughter—I speak freely to you.

’Twas good I made that codicil this morning
That you and Blackwood witnessed. Now she rests
Safe on the nation’s honour. . . . Let her have
My hair, and the small treasured things I owned,

And take care of her, as you care for me !

Hardy promises.

Nelson (resuming in a murmur)

Does love die with our frame’s decease, I wonder.

Or does it live on ever ? . . .

A silence. Beatty reapproach.es.

Hardy

Now I’ll leave,

See if your order’s gone, and then return.

125

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

N elson (symptoms of death beginning to change his face)

Yes, Hardy ; yes ; I know it. You must go.—

Here we shall meet no more; since Heaven forfend
That care for me should keep you idle now,

When all the ship demands you. Beatty, too,

Go to the others who lie bleeding there ;

Them you can aid Me you can render none!

My time here is the briefest.—If I live

But long enough I’ll anchor. . . . But—too late—

My anchoring’s elsewhere ordered! . . . Kiss me.
Hardy:

Hardy bends over him.

I’m satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty !

Hardy brashes his eyes with his hand, and withdraws to go
above, pausing to look back before he finally disappears.

Beatty (watching Nelson)

Ah !—Hush around! . . .

He’s sinking. It is but a trifle now
Of minutes with him. Stand you, please, aside,

And give him air.

Beatty, the Chaplain, Magrath, the Steward, and attendants
continue to regard Nelson. Beatty looks at his watch.

Beatty

Two hours and fifty minutes since he fell,

And now he’s going.

They wait. Nelson dies.

Chaplain

Yes. . . . He has homed to where
There’s no more sea.

Beatty

We’ll let the Captain know.
Who will confer with Collingwood at once.

I must now turn to these.

126

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

He goes to another part of the cockpit, a midshipman ascends to
the deck, and the scene overclouds.

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)

His thread was cut too slowly ! When he fell.

And bade his fame farewell,

He might have passed, and shunned his long-drawn pain,
Endured in vain, in vain /

Spirit of the Years

Young Spirits, be not critical of That
Which was before, and shall be after you !

Spirit of the Pities

But out of tune the Mode and meritless
That quickens sense tn shapes whom, thou hast said,
Necessitation sways ! A life there was
Among these self-same frail ones — Sophocles —

Who visioned it too clearly, even the while
He dubbed the Will “ the gods." Truly said he,

“ Such gross injustice to their own creation
Burdens the time with mournfulness for us,

And for themselves with shame." 1 —Things mechanized
By coils and pivots set to foreframed codes
Would, in a thorough-sphered melodic rule,

And governance of sweet consistency,

Be cessed no pain, whose burnings would abide
With That Which holds responsibility,

Or inexist.

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)

Yea, yea, yea !

Thus would the Mover pay
The score each puppet owes,

The Reaper reap what his contrivance sows !

Why make Life debtor’ when it did not buy ?

Why wound so keenly Right that it would die ?

1 Soph. Track . 1266-72.

127

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Spirit of the Years

Nay, blame not! For what judgment can ye blame ?—
In that immense unweeting Mind is shown
One far above forethinking ; purposive,

Yet superconscious; a Clairvoyancy

That knows not what It knows, yet works therewith .—

The cognizance ye mourn, Life's doom to feel,

If I report it meetly, came unmeant,

Emerging with blind gropes from impercipience
By listless sequence — luckless, tragic Chance,

In your more human tongue.

Spirit of the Pities

And hence unneeded

In the economy of Vitality,

Which might have ever kept a sealed cognition
As doth the Will Itself.

Chorus of the Years (aerial music)

Nay, nay, nay ;

Your hasty judgments stay,

Until the topmost cyme
Have crowned the last entablature of Time.

O heap not blame on that in-brooding Will;

0 pause, till all things all their days fulfil /

SCENE V

LONDON. THE GUILDHALL

A crowd of citizens has gathered outside to watch the carriages as
they drive up and deposit guests invited to the Lord Mayor's banquet,
for which event the Hall is brilliantly lit within. A cheer rises when
the equipage of any popular personage arrives at the door.

128

scene v PART FIRST

First Citizen

Well, well! Nelson is the man who ought to have
been banqueted to-night. But he is coming to Town
in a coach different from these!

Second Citizen

Will they bring his poor splintered body home ?

First Citizen

Yes. They say he’s to be tombed in marble, at
St. Paul’s or Westminster. We shall see him if he
lays in state. It will make a patriotic spectacle for a
fine day.

Boy

How can you see a dead man, father, after so long ?

First Citizen

They’ll embalm him, my boy, as they did all the
great Egyptian admirals.

Boy

His lady will be handy for that, won’t she ?

First Citizen

Don’t ye ask awkward questions.

Second Citizen

Here’s another coming!

First Citizen

That’s my Lord Chancellor Eldon. Wot he’ll say,
and wot he’ll look!—Mr. Pitt will be here soon.

Boy

I don’t like Billy. He killed Uncle John’s parrot.

129 K

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Second Citizen

How may ye make that out, youngster ?

Boy

Mr. Pitt made the war, and the war made us want
sailors ; and Uncle John went for a walk down Wapping
High Street to talk to the pretty ladies one evening ;
and there was a press all along the river that night
a regular hot one—and Uncle John was carried on
board a man-of-war to fight under Nelson; and
nobody minded U ncle J ohn s parrot, and it talked
itself to death. So Mr. Pitt killed Uncle Johns
parrot; see it, sir ?

Second Citizen

You had better have a care of this boy, friend.
His brain is too precious for the common risks of
Cheapside. Not but what he might as well have said
Boney killed the parrot when he was about it. And
as for Nelson—who’s now sailing shinier seas than
ours, if they’ve rubbed Her off his slate where he’s
gone to,—the F rench papers say that our loss in him
is greater than our gain in ships; so that logically the
victory is theirs. Gad, sir, it’s almost true!

A hurr ahin g is heard from Cheapside, and the crowd in that
direction begins to hustle and show excitement.

First Citizen

He’s coming, he’s coming! Here, let me lift you
up, my boy.—Why, they have taken out the horses,
as I am man alive!

Second Citizen

Pitt for ever!—Why, here’s a blade opening and
shutting his mouth like the rest, but never a sound
does he raise!

130

SCENE V

PART FIRST

Third Citizen

I’ve not too much breath to carry me through my
day’s work, so I can’t afford to waste it in such
luxuries as crying Hurrah to aristocrats. If ye was
ten yards off y’d think I was shouting as loud as any.

Second Citizen

It’s a very mean practice of ye to husband yourself
at such a time, and gape in dumbshow like a frog in
Plaistow Marshes.

Third Citizen

No, sir; it’s economy; a very necessary instinct
in these days of ghastly taxations to pay half the
armies in Europe! In short, in the words of the
Ancients, it is scarcely compass-mentas to do otherwise!
Somebody must save something, or the country will
be as bankrupt as Mr. Pitt himself is, by all account;
though he don’t look it just now.

Pitt’s coach passes, drawn by a troop of running men and boys.
The Prime Minister is seen within, a thin, erect, up-nosed figure,
with a flush of excitement on his usually pale face. The vehicle
reaches the doorway to the Guildhall and halts with a jolt. Pitt
gets out shakily, and amid cheers enters the building.

Fourth Citizen

Quite a triumphal entry. Such is power;

Now worshipped, now accursed! The overthrow
Of all Pitt’s European policy
When his hired army and his chosen general
Surrendered them at Ulm a month ago,

Is now forgotten! Ay ; this Trafalgar
Will botch up many a ragged old repute,

Make Nelson figure as domestic saint
No less than country’s saviour, Pitt exalt
As zenith-star of England’s firmament,

And uncurse all the bogglers of her weal
At this adventurous time.

131

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Third Citizen

Talk of Pitt being ill. He looks hearty as a buck.

First Citizen

It’s the news—no more. His spirits are up like a
rocket for the moment.

Boy

Is it because Trafalgar is near Portingal that he
loves Port wine ?

Second Citizen

Ah, as I said, friend; this boy must go home and
be carefully put to bed !

First Citizen

Well, whatever William’s faults, it is a triumph for
his virtues to-night!

Pitt having disappeared, the Guildhall doors are closed, and the
crowd slowly disperses, till in the course of an hour the street shows
itself empty and dark, only a few oil lamps burning.

The Scene Opens, revealing the interior of the Guildhall, and
the brilliant assembly of City magnates, Lords, and Ministers seated
there, Mr. Pitt occupying a chair of honour by the Lord Mayor.
His health has been proposed as that of the Saviour of England, and
drunk with acclamations.

Pitt (standing up after repeated calls)

My lords and gentlemen:—You have toasted me
As one who has saved England and her cause.

I thank you, gentlemen, unfeignedly.

But—no man has saved England, let me say:
England has saved herself, by her exertions :

She will, I trust, save Europe by her example!

Loud applause, during which he sits down, rises, and sits down
again. The scene then shuts, and the night without has place.

132

SCENE VI

PART FIRST

Spirit of the Years

Those words of this man Pitt—his last large words,
As I may prophesy—that ring to-night
In their first mintage to the feasters here,

Will spread with ageing, lodge, and crystallize,

And stand embedded in the English tongue
Till it grow thin, outworn, and cease to be .—

So is t ordained by That Which all ordains /

For words were never winged with apter grace,

Or blent with happier choice of time and place,

To hold the imagination of this strenuous race.

SCENE VI 1

AN INN AT RENNES

Night. A sleeping-chamber. Two candles are burning near a
bed in an alcove, and writing-materials are on the table.

The French admiral, Villeneuve, partly undressed, is pacing up
and down the room.

Villeneuve

These hauntings have at last nigh proved to me
That this thing must be done. Illustrious foe
And teacher, N elson : blest and over blest
In thy outgoing at the noon of strife
When glory clasped thee round; while wayward
Death

Refused my coaxings for the like-timed call!

Yet I did press where thickest missiles fell,

And both by precept and example showed
Where lay the line of duty, patriotism,

And honour, in that combat of despair.

He sees himself in the glass as he passes.

1 This scene is a little antedated, to include it in the Act to which it essentially
belongs. *

133

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Unfortunate Villeneuve!—whom fate has marked
To suffer for too firm a faithfulness.—

An Emperor’s chide is a command to die.—

By him accursed, forsaken by my friend,

Awhile stern England’s prisoner, then unloosed
Like some poor dolt unworth captivity,

Time serves me now for ceasing. Why not
cease ? . . .

When, as Shades whisper in the chasmal night,

“ Better, far better, no percipience here.”—

O happy lack, that I should have no child
To come into my hideous heritage,

And groan beneath the burden of my name ! 1

Spirit of the Years

Til speak . His mood is ripe for such a parle.

(Sending a voice into Villeneuve’s ear.)

Thou dost divine the hour!

Villeneuve

But those stern Nays,

That heretofore were audible to me
At each unhappy time I strove to pass ?

Spirit of the Years

Have been annulled. The Will grants exit freely ;
Yea, It says “Now.” Therefore make now thy time.

Spirit of the Pities

May his sad sunken soul merge into nought
Meekly and gently as a breeze at eve !

, ,- 1 ”Q U , el l >on l le ” que je n’aie aucun enfant pour recueillir mon horrible
heritage et qui soit chargd du poids de mon nom ! ”—(Extract from the poignant
letter to his wife written on this night.-See Lanfrey Hi. 374.) P ^ nt

134

SCENE VII

PART FIRST

VlLLENEUVE

From skies above me and the air around

Those callings which so long have circled me

At last do whisper “ Now.” Now it shall be!

He seals a letter, and addresses it to his wife: then takes a dagger
from his accoutrements that are hanging alongside, and, lying down
upon his back on the bed, stabs himself determinedly in many places,
leaving the weapon in the last wound.

Ungrateful master ; generous foes ; Farewell!

Villeneuve dies; and the scene darkens.

SCENE VII

king george’s watering-place, south wessex

The interior of the “ Old Rooms ” Inn. Boatmen and burghers
are sitting on settles round the fire, smoking and drinking.

First Burgher

So they’ve brought him home at last, hey ? And
he’s to be solemnized with a roaring funeral ?

First Boatman

Yes, thank God. ... ’Tis better to lie dry than wet,
if canst do it without stinking on the road gravewards.'
And they took care that he shouldn’t.

Second Boatman

’Tis to be at Paul’s ; so they say that know. And
the crew of the “Victory” have to walk in front, and
Captain Hardy is to carry his stars and garters on a
great velvet pincushion.

135

ACT V

THE DYNASTS

First Burgher

Where’s the Captain now ?

Second Boatman (nodding in the direction of
Captain Hardy’s house)

Down at home here biding with his own folk a bit
I zid en walking with them on the Esplanade yesterday.
He looks ten years older than he did when he went.
Ay—he brought the galliant hero home !

Second Burgher

Now how did they bring him home so that he could
lie in state afterwards to the naked eye!

First Boatman

Well, as they always do,—in a cask of sperrits.

Second Burgher

Really, now!

First Boatman (lowering his voice)

But what happened was this. They were a long
time coming, owing to contrary winds, and the
“ Victory ” being little more than a wreck. And grog
ran short, because they’d used near all they had to
peckle his body in. So—they broached the Adm’l!

Second Burgher

How ?

First Boatman

Well; the plain calendar of it is, that when he came
to be unhooped, it was found that the crew had drunk
him dry. What was the men to do ? Broke down by
the battle, and hardly able to keep afloat, ’twas a most
defendable thing, and it fairly saved their lives. So

136

SCENE VII

PART FIRST

he was their salvation after death as he had been in
the fight. If he could have knowed it, ’twould have
pleased him down to the ground! How ’a would have
laughed through the spigot - hole : “ Draw on, my
hearties!' Better I shrivel than you famish.” Ha-ha !

Second Burgher

It may be defendable afloat; but it seems queer
ashore.

First Boatman

Well, that’s as I had it from one that knows—Bob
Loveday of Overcombe—one of the “ Victory ” men
that’s going to walk in the funeral. However, let’s
touch a livelier string. Peter Green, strike up that
new ballet that they’ve lately had prented here, and
were hawking about town last market-day.

Second Boatman

With all my heart. Though my wyndpipe’s a bit
clogged since the wars have made beer so mortal
small!

SONG

THE NIGHT OF TRAFALGAR
I

In the wild October night-time, when the wind raved
round the land,

And the Back-sea 1 met the Front-sea, and our doors
were blocked with sand,

And we heard the drub of Dead-man’s Bay, where
bones of thousands are,

We knew not what the day had done for us at
Trafalgar.

1 In those days the hind-part of the harbour adjoining this scene was so named,

and at high tides the waves washed across the isthmus at a point called “The

Narrows.

137

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

(All) Had done,

Had done,

For us at Trafalgar!

“Pull hard, and make the Nothe, or down we go!”
one says, says he.

We pulled; and bedtime brought the storm ; but snug
at home slept we.

Yet all the while our gallants after fighting through
the day,

Were beating up and down the dark, sou’-west of
Cadiz Bay.

The dark,

Sou’-west of Cadiz Bay !
hi

The victors and the vanquished then the storm it
tossed and tore,

As hard they strove, those worn-out men, upon that
surly shore ;

Dead Nelson and his half-dead crew, his foes from
near and far,

Were rolled together on the deep that night at
Trafalgar!

The deep,

That night at Trafalgar!

The Cloud-curtain draws.

Chorus of the Years (aerial music)

Meanwhile the month moves on to counter-deeds
Vast as the vainest needs ,

And fiercely the predestined plot proceeds.

138

ACT SIXTH

SCENE I

THE FIELD OF AUSTERLITZ. THE FRENCH POSITION

The night is the ist of December following, and the eve of the
battle. The view is from the elevated position of the Emperor’s
bivouac. The air cuts keen and the sky glistens with stars, but the
lower levels are covered with a white fog stretching like a sea, from
which the heights protrude as dusky rocks.

To the left are discernible high and wooded hills. In the front
mid-distance the plateau of Pratzen outstands, declining suddenly on
the right to a low flat country covered with marshes and pools now
mostly obscured. On the plateau itself are seen innumerable and
varying lights, marking the bivouac of the centre divisions of the
Austro-Russian army. Close to the foreground the fires of the
French are burning, surrounded by soldiery. The invisible presence
of the countless thousands of massed humanity that compose the
two armies makes itself felt indefinably.

The tent of Napoleon rises nearest at hand, with sentinel and
other military figures looming around, and saddled horses held by
attendants. The accents of the Emperor are audible, through the
canvas from inside, dictating a proclamation.

Voice of Napoleon

“ Soldiers, the hordes of Muscovy now face you,
To mend the Austrian overthrow at Ulm !

But how so ? Are not these the self-same bands
You met and swept aside at Hollabriinn,

And whose retreating forms, dismayed to flight,
Your feet pursued along the trackways here ?

“ Our own position, massed and menacing,

Is rich in chance for opportune attack;

139

ACT VI

THE DYNASTS

For, say they march to cross and turn our right—
A course almost their need—their stretching flank
Will offer us, from points now prearranged-”

Voice of a Marshal

Shows it, your Majesty, the wariness
That marks your usual far-eyed policy,

To openly announce your tactics thus

Some twelve hours ere their form can actualize ?

Voice of NapolEon

The zest such knowledge will impart to all
Is worth the risk of leakages. (To Secretary)

Write on.

(Dictation resumed)

“ Soldiers, your sections I myself shall lead ;

But ease your minds who would expostulate
Against my undue rashness. If your zeal
Sow hot confusion in the hostile files
As your old manner is, and in our rush
We mingle with our foes, I’ll use fit care.
Nevertheless, should issues stand at pause
But for a wink-while, that time you will eye
Your Emperor the foremost in the shock.

Taking his risk with every ranksman here.

For victory, men, must be no thing surmised,

As that which may or may not beam on us.

Like noontide sunshine on a dubious morn ;

It must be sure !—The honour and the fame
Of France’s gay and gallant infantry—

So dear, so cherished all the Empire through—
Binds us to compass it!

Maintain the ranks ;

Let none be thinned by impulse or excuse
Of bearing back the wounded : and, in fine,

Be eveiy one in this conviction firm :—

That ’tis our sacred bond to overthrow
These hirelings of a country not their own :

140

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!

“ Napoleon.”

(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 NapolLon (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'rags 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!

141

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Another Voice

And how by land.
Your Majesty, if one may query such ?

Voice of Napoleon (sardonically)

I’ll bid all states of Europe shut their ports
To England’s arrogant bottoms, slowly starve
Her bloated revenues and monstrous trade,

Till all her hulls lie sodden in their docks,

And her grey island eyes in vain shall seek
One jack of hers upon the ocean plains !

Voice of Soult

A few more master-strokes, your Majesty,

Must be dealt hereabout to compass such!

Voice of NapolEon

God, yes!—Even here Pitt’s guineas are the foes :
’Tis all a duel ’twixt this Pitt and me;

And, more than Russia’s host, and Austria’s flower,

I everywhere to-night around me feel
As from an unseen monster haunting nigh
His country’s hostile breath!—But come : to choke it
By our to-morrow’s feats, which now, in brief,

I recapitulate.—First Soult will move
To forward the grand project of the day :

Namely : ascend in Echelon, right to front,

With Vandamme’s men, and those of Saint Hilaire :

Legrand’s division somewhere further back_

Nearly whereat I place my finger here—

To be there reinforced by tirailleurs :

Lannes to the left here, on the Olmutz road,
Supported by Murat’s whole cavalry.

While in reserve, here, are the grenadiers
Of Oudinot, the corps of Bernadotte,

Rivaud, Drouet, and the Imperial Guard.

142

SCENE I

PART FIRST

Marshals’ Voices

Even as we understood, Sire, and have ordered.
Nought lags but day, to light our victory!

Voice of Napoleon

Now let us up and ride the bivouacs round,

And note positions ere the soldiers sleep.

—Omit not from to-morrow’s home dispatch
Direction that this blow of Trafalgar
Be hushed in all the news-sheets sold in France,

Or, if reported, let it be portrayed

As a rash fight whereout we came not worst,

But were so broken by the boisterous eve
That England claims to be the conqueror.

There emerge from the tent Napoleon and the Marshals, who
all mount the horses that are led up, and proceed through the frost
and rime towards the bivouacs. At the Emperor’s approach to the
nearest soldiery they spring up.

Soldiers

The Emperor! He’s here! The Emperor’s here!

An old Grenadier (approaching Napoleon familiarly)

We’ll bring thee Russian guns and flags galore
To celebrate thy coronation-day!

They gather into wisps the straw, hay, and other litter on which
they have been lying, and kindling these at the dying fires, wave
them as torches. This is repeated as each fire is reached, till the
whole French position is one wide illumination. The most
enthusiastic of the soldiers follow the Emperor in a throng as he
progresses, and his whereabouts in the vast field is denoted by their
cries.

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)
Strange suasive full of personality !

Chorus of Ironic Spirits

His projects they unknow, his grin unsee !

143

THE DYNASTS

ACT Vt

Chorus of the Pities
Their loyal luckless hearts say blindly—He l
The night-shades close over.

SCENE II

THE SAME. THE RUSSIAN POSITION

Midnight at the quarters of Field-Marshal Prince Kut dzor at
Kresnowitz. An inner apartment is discovered, roughly adapted as a
council-room. On a table with candles is unfolded a large map of
Austerlitz and its environs.

The Generals are assembled in consultation round the table,
Weirother pointing to the map, Langeron, Buxhovden, and
Miloradovich standing by, Dokht6rof bending over the map,
Prschebiszewsky 1 indifferently walking up and down. Kut
old and weary, with a scarred face and only one eye, is seated in a
chair at the head of the table, nodding, waking, and nodding again.
Some officers of lower grade are in the background, and horses in
waiting are heard hoofing and champing outside.

Weirother speaks, referring to memoranda, snuffing the nearest
candle, and moving it from place to place on the map as he
proceeds importantly.

Weirother

Now here, our right, along the Olmiitz Road
Will march and oust our counterfacers there,

Dislodge them from the Sainton Hill, and thence

Advance direct to Brtinn.—You heed me, sirs ?_

The cavalry will occupy the plain :

Our centre and main strength,—you follow me ?—
Count Langeron, Dokhtorof, with Prschebiszewsky
Kollowrath—now on the Pratzen heights—

Will down and cross the Goldbach rivulet
Seize Tilnitz, Kobelnitz, and hamlets nigh,

Sh ° Uld> U 13 SaM ’ be jounced i„ three syllables,
I44

SCENE II PART FIRST

Turn the French right, move onward in their rear

Cross Schwarsa, hold the great Vienna road :_

So, with the nightfall, centre, right, and left,

Will rendezvous beneath the walls of Brunn.

Langeron (taking a pinch of snuff)

Good, General; very good!—if Bonaparte
Will kindly stand and let you have your way.

But what if he do not!—if he forestall
These sound slow movements, mount the Pratzen
hills

When we descend, fall on our rear forthwith,

While we go crying for his rear in vain ?

Kutuzof (waking up)

Ay, ay, Weirother ; that’s the question—eh ?

Weirother (impatiently)

If Bonaparte had meant to climb up there,

Being one so spry and so determinate,

He would have set about it ere this eve !

He has not troops to do so, sirs, I say:

His utmost strength is forty thousand men.

Langeron

Then if so weak, how can so wise a brain
Court ruin by abiding calmly here
The impact of a force so large as ours ?

He may be mounting up this very hour!

What think you, General Milorddovich ?

MilorAdovich

I ? What’s the use of thinking, when to-morrow
Will tell us, with no need to think at all!

145

ACT VI

the dynasts

Weirother

Pah! At this moment he retires apace.

His fires are dark; all sounds have ceased that way
Save voice of owl or mongrel wintering there.

But, were he nigh, these movements I detail
Would knock the bottom from his enterprize.

Kutuzof (rising)

Well, well. Now this being ordered, set it going.

One here shall make fair copies of the notes,

And send them round. Colonel von Toll I ask
To translate part.—Generals, it grows full late,

And half-a-dozen hours of needed sleep

Will aid us more than maps. We now disperse,

And luck attend us all. Good-night. Good-night.

The Generals and other officers go out severally.

Such plans are—paper ! Only to-morrow’s light
Reveals the true manoeuvre to my sight!

He flaps out with his hand all the candles but one or two, slowly
walks outside the house, and listens. On the high ground in the
direction of the French lines are heard shouts, and a wide illumination
grows and strengthens; but the hollows are still mantled in fog.

Are these the signs of regiments out of heart,

And beating backward from an enemy!

[He remains pondering.
On the Pratzen heights immediately in front there begins a
movement among the Russians, signifying that the plan which
involves desertion of that vantage-ground is about to be put in force.
Noises of drunken singing arise from the Russian lines at various
points elsewhere.

KuTtJzoF re-enters his quarters with a face of misgiving.

The night shades involve the whole . 1

. depicting this scene, the writer, like others, has followed without question
the MS. of Count Langeron quoted by M. Thiers. But the singular soundness of
the Count s own opinion in the consultation, as recorded, suggests that it may have
been somewhat strengthened on paper at the expense of that of his companions?

146

SCENE III

PART FIRST

SCENE III

THE SAME. THE FRENCH POSITION

Shortly before dawn on the morning of the 2nd of December. A
white frost and fog still prevail in the low-lying areas; but overhead
the sky is clear. A dead silence reigns.

Napoleon, on a grey horse, closely attended by Berthier,
and surrounded by Marshals Soult, Lannes, Murat, and their
aides-de-camp all cloaked, is discernible in the gloom riding down
from the high ground before Bellowitz, on which they have
bivouacked, to the village of Puntowitz on the Goldbach stream,
quite near the front of the Russian position of the day before on the
Pratzen crest. The Emperor and his companions come to a pause,
look around and upward to the hills, and listen.

Napoleon

Their bivouac fires, that lit the top last night,

Are all extinct.

Lannes

And hark you, Sire ; I catch
A sound which, if I err not, means the thing
We have hoped, and hoping, feared fate would not
yield!

Napoleon

Faith, can it surely be the tramp of horse
And jolt of cannon downward from the hill
Towards our right here, by the swampy lakes
That face Davout ? Thus, as I sketched, they work!

Murat

Yes! They already move upon Tilnitz.

147

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Napoleon

Leave them alone! Nor stick nor stone we’ll stir
To interrupt them. Nought that we can scheme
Will help us like their own stark sightlessness !—

Let them get down to those white lowlands there,

And so far plunge in the level that no skill,

When sudden vision flashes on their fault,

Can help them, though despair-stung, to regain
The key to mastery held at yestereve!

Meantime move onward these divisions here
Under the fog’s kind shroud ; descend the slope,

And cross the stream below the Russian lines :

There halt concealed, till I waft down the word.

Napoleon and his staff retire to the hill south-east of Bellowitz as
the day dawns pallidly.

’Tis good to get above that rimy cloak
And into cleaner air. It chilled me through.

When they reach the summit they are over the fog: and suddenly
the sun breaks forth radiantly to the left of the Pratzen up lan d,
illuminating the ash-hued face of Napoleon and the faces of those
around him. AH eyes are turned first to the sun, and thence to look
before denS£ masses men ^ at had occupied the upland the night

Murat

I see them not. The plateau seems deserted !

Napoleon (exultantly)

Gone; verily!—Ah, how much will you bid,
n hour hence, for the coign abandoned now 1
The battle s ours—It was, then, their rash march
Downwards to Tflmtz and the Goldbach swamps

Eni^,v Wn ’ u heard -No hurry, Lannes!
Enjoy this sun, that rests its chubby jowl

pon the plain, and thrusts its bristling beard
Across the lowlands’ fleecy counterpane

Sonk n Lw I i eath l ? Ur broadest hat-brims’ shade. . .
boult, how long hence to win the Pratzen top?

148 r

SCENE III

PART FIRST

SOULT

Some twenty minutes or less, your Majesty :

Our troops down there, still mantled by the mist,

Are half upon the way.

Napoleon

Good! Set forthwith

Vandamme and Saint Hilaire to mount the slopes-

Firing begins in the marsh to the right by Tilnitz and the pools,
though the thick air yet hides the operations.

O, there you are, Buxhovden, boozy, blind!

Achieve your worst. Davout will hold you firm.

The head of an aide-de-camp rises through the fog on that side,
and he hastens up to Napoleon and his companions, to whom the
officer announces what has happened. Davout rides off, disappear¬
ing legs first into the white stratum that covers the attack.

Lannes and Murat, you have concern enough
Here on the left, with Prince Bagration
And all the Austro-Russian cavalry.

Haste off. The victory promising to-day
Will, like a thunder-clap, conclude the war!

The Marshals with their aides gallop away towards their respective
divisions. Soon the two divisions under Soult are seen ascending
in close column the inclines of the Pratzen height. Thereupon the
heads of the Russian centre columns disclose themselves, breaking
the sky-line of the summit from the-other side, in a desperate attempt
to regain the position vacated by the Russian left. A fierce struggle
develops there between Soult’s divisions and these, who, despite
their tardy attempt to recover the lost post of dominance, are pressed
by the French off the slopes into the lowland.

Semichorus I of the Pities (aerial music)

O Great Necessitator, heed us now !

If it indeed must be

That this day Austria smoke with slaughtery,
Quicken the issue as Thou knowest. how ;

And dull to suffering those whom it befalls
To quit their lodgment in a flesh that galls !

149

THE DYNASTS

ACT VS

Semichorus II

If it be in the future human story
To lift this man to yet intenser glory ,

Let the exploit be done
With the least sting, or none,

To those, his kind, at whose expense such pitch is won /

Spirit of the Years

Again ye deprecate the World-Souls way
That I so long have told ? Then note anew
{Since ye forget ) the ordered potencies,

Nerves, sinews, trajects, eddies, ducts of It
The Eternal Urger, pressing change on change.

At once, as earlier, a preternatural clearness possesses the
atmosphere of the battle-field, in which the scene becomes
anatomized and the living masses of humanity transparent. The
controlling Immanent Will appears therein, as a brain-like network
of currents and ejections, twitching, interpenetrating, entangling, and
thrusting hither and thither the human forms.

Semichorus I of Ironic Spirits (aerial music)

O Innocents, can ye forget

That things to be weresTiaped and set

Ere mortals and this planet met ?

Semichorus ■ 11

Stand ye apostrophizing That
Which, working all, works but thereat
Like some sublime fermenting-vat

Semichorus I

Heaving throughout its vast content
With strenuously transmutive bent

■l hough of its aim unsentient ? _

150

scr-sn in PART FIRST

Semichorus II

Could ye have seen Its early deeds
would not cry, as one who pleads
For quarter, when a Europe bleeds !

Semichorus I

Ere ye, young Pities, had upgrown
Prom out the deeps where mortals moan
Against a ruling not their own,

Semichorus II

He of the Years beheld ’ and we,
Creation's prentice artistry
Express in forms that now unbe

Semichorus I

Tentative dreams from day to day ;

Afangle its types, rc-kncad the clay
In some more palpitating way ;

Semichorus II

Beheld the rarest wrecked amain,

Whole nigh-perfected species slain
By those that scarce could boast a brain ;

Semichorus I

Saw ravage, growth, diminish, add.
Here peoples sane, there peoples mad,

In choicelcss throws of good and bad;

Semichorus II

Heard laughters at the ruthless dooms
Which tortured to the eternal glooms
Quick, quivering hearts in hecatombs.

151

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Chorus

Us Ancients, then, it ill befits
To quake when Slaughters spectre flits
Athwart this field of Austerlitz !

Shade of the Earth

Pain not their young compassions by such lore.
But hold you mute , and read the battle yonder :
The moment marks the day's catastrophe.

SCENE IV

THE SAME. THE RUSSIAN POSITION

It is about noon, and the vital spectacle is now near the village
of ,,Tilnitz. The fog has dispersed, and the sun shines clearly,
though without warmth, the ice on the pools gleaming under its
radiance.

General Buxhovden and his aides-de-camp have reined up,
and remain at pause on a hillock. The General watches through a
glass his battalions, which are still disputing the village. Suddenly
approach down the track from the upland of Pratzen large companies
of Russian infantry helter-skelter. Count Langeron is beheld to be
retreating with them; and soon, pale and agitated, he hastens up to
General Buxh5vden, whose face is flushed.

Langeron

While they are upon us you stay idle here!
Prschebiszewsky’s column is distraught and rent,
And more than half my own made captive! Yea,
Krezndwitz carried, and Sokdlnitz hemmed :

The enemy's whole strength will stound you soon!

BuxhAvden

You seem to see the enemy everywhere.

152

SCENE IV

PART FIRST

Langeron

You cannot see them, be they here or no!

Buxhovden

I only wait Prschebiszewsky’s nearing corps
To join Dokhtorofs to them. Here they come.

Soult, supported by Bernadotte and Oudinot, having cleared
and secured the Pratzen height, his battalions are perceived descend¬
ing from it on this side, behind Dokht6rof’s division, so placing
the latter between themselves and the pools.

Langeron

You cannot tell the Frenchmen from, ourselves!

These are the victors.—Ah—Dokhtorof—lost!

Dokhtorof’s troops are seen to be retreating towards the water.
The watchers stand in painful tenseness.

Buxhovden

Dokhtbrof tell to save him as he may !

We, Count, must gather up our shaken flesh _

And hurry them by the road through Austerlitz.

BuxhCvden’s regiments and the remains of Langeron’s are
rallied and collected, and they retreat by way of the hamlet of
Auiezd. As they go over the summit of a hill Buxhovden looks
back. Langeron’s columns, which were behind his own, have been
cut off. by Vandamme’s division coming down from the Uratzen
plateau This and some detachments from Dokhtorofs column
rush towards the Satschan lake and endeavour to cross it Jhe ice.
It cracks beneath their weight At the same moment Napoleon
and his brilliant staff appear on the top of the Pratzen

The Emperor watches the scene with a vulpine. sm ,
directs a battery near at hand to fire down upon the ice on ^kic
the Russians are crossing. A ghastly crash and splas “| j
the discharge, the shining surface breaking yito pieces hk ^

which flv in all directions. Two thousand fugitives are en e uiicu,
«f despair reach the ears of the .archers lie

ironicai hurzas. Russian army from wing to wing is n °”

discfoiS ISg m ite current the Ehkk>* Aux.npnn and the

153

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Emperor Francis, with the reserve, who are seen towards Austerlitz
endeavouring to rally their troops in vain. They are swept along by
the disordered soldiery.

SCENE V

THE SAME. NEAR THE WINDMILL OF PALENY

The mill is about seven miles to the southward, between the
French advanced posts and the Austrians.

A bivouac fire is burning. Napoleon, in grey overcoat and
beaver hat turned up front and back, rides to the spot with Berthier,
Savary, and his aides, and alights. He walks to and fro com¬
placently, meditating or talking to Berthier. Two groups of
officers, one from each army, stand in the background on their
respective sides.

• Napoleon

What’s this of Alexander? Weep, did he,

Like his old namesake, but for meaner cause ?

Ha, ha!

Berthier

Word goes, your Majesty, that Colonel Toll,

One of Field-Marshal Prince Kutiizof s staff,

In the retreating swirl of overthrow,

Found Alexander seated on a stone
Beneath a leafless roadside apple-tree,

Out here by Goding on the Holitsch way ;

His coal-black uniform and snowy plume
Unmarked, his face disconsolate, his grey eyes
Mourning in tears the fate of his brave array—

All flying southward, save the steadfast slain.

Napoleon

Poorfdevil!—But he’ll soon get over it—

Sooner than his employers oversea!—

Ha!—this will make friend Pitt and England writhe,
And cloud somewhat their lustrous Trafalgar.

154

SCENE V

PART FIRST

An open carriage approaches from the direction of Holitsch,
accompanied by a small escort of Hungarian guards. NapolEon
walks forward to meet it as it draws up, and welcomes the Austrian
Emperor, who alights. He is wearing a grey cloak over a white
uniform, carries a light walking-cane, and is attended by Prince
John of Lichtenstein, Swarzenberg, and others. His fresh-
coloured face contrasts strangely with the bluish pallor of NapolEon’s ;
but it is now thin and anxious.

They formally embrace. Berthier, Prince John, and the rest
retire, and the two Emperors are left by themselves before the fire.

Napoleon

Here on the roofless ground do I receive you—

My only mansion for these two months past!

Francis

Your tenancy thereof has brought such fame
That it must needs be one which charms you, Sire.

Napoleon

Good! Now this war. It has been forced on me
J ust at a crisis most inopportune,

When all my energies and arms were bent
On teaching England that her watery walls
Are no defence against the wrath of France
Aroused by breach of solemn covenants.

F RANCIS

I had no zeal for violating peace

Till ominous events in Italy

Revealed the gloomy truth that France aspires

ToYonquest there, and undue sovereignty.

Since when mine eyes have seen no sign outheld
To signify a change of purposings.

Napoleon

Yet there were terms distinctly specified
To General Giulay in November past,

155

ACT VI

the dynasts

Whereon I’d gladly fling the sword aside.
To wit: that hot armigerent jealousy
Stir us no further on transalpine rule.

I’d take the Isonzo River as our bounds.

Francis

Roundly, that I cede all !•—And how may stand
Your views as to the Russian forces here ?

Napoleon

You have all to lose by that alliance, Sire.

Leave Russia. Let the Emperor Alexander
Make his own terms ; whereof the first must be
That he retire from Austrian territory.

I’ll grant an armistice therefor. Anon
I’ll treat with him to weld a lasting peace,

Based on some simple understandings ; chief,
That Russian armies keep to Russian soil,

And that, moreover, every English keel
Be locked from out the ports of his domain.
Meanwhile to you I’ll tender this good word :
Keep Austria to herself. To Russia bound,
You pay your own costs with your provinces,
And Alexander’s likewise therewithal.

Francis

I see as much, and long have seen it, Sire ;

And standing here the vanquished, let me own
What happier issues might have left unsaid :
Long, long I have lost the wish to bind myself
To Russia’s purposings and Russia’s risks ;

Full little do I count alliances

With Powers that have no substance seizable !

As they converse they walk away.

156

SCENE V

PART FIRST

An Austrian Officer

O strangest scene of an eventful life,

This junction that I witness here to-day!

An Emperor—in whose majestic veins
Aeneas and the proud Caesarian line
Claim yet to live ; and those scarce less renowned,
The dauntless Hawks’-Hold Counts, of gallantry
So great in fame a thousand years ago—

To bend with deference and manners mild
In talk with this adventuring campaigner,

Raised but by pikes above the common herd!

Another Austrian Officer

Ay! There be Satschan swamps and Pratzen heights
In royal lines, as here at Austerlitz.

The Emperors again draw near.

Francis

Then, to this armistice, which shall be called
Immediately at all points, I agree;

And pledge my word that my august ally
Accept it likewise, and withdraw his force
By daily measured march to his own realm.

Napoleon

For him I take your word. And pray believe
Than rank ambitions are your own, not mine;

That though I have postured as your enemy,

And likewise Alexander’s, we are one
In interests, have in all things common cause.

One country sows these mischiefs Europe through
By her insidious chink of luring ore—

False-featured England, who, to aggrandize
Her name, her influence, and her revenues,

Schemes to impropriate the whole world’s trade,

And starves and bleeds the folk of other lands.

IS 7

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Her rock-rimmed situation walls her off
Like a slim selfish mollusk in its shell
From the wide views and fair fraternities
Which on the mainland we reciprocate,

And quicks her quest for profit in our woes !

Francis

I am not competent, your Majesty,

To estimate that country’s conscience now,

Nor to engage on my ally’s behalf

That English ships be shut from Russian trade.

But joyful am I that in all things else
My promise can be made; and that this day
Our conference ends in friendship and esteem.

Napoleon

I will send Savary at to-morrow’s blink
And make all lucid to the Emperor.

For us, I wholly can avow as mine
The cordial spirit of your Majesty.

They retire towards the carriage of Francis. Berthcier, Savary,
Lichtenstein, and the suite of officers advance from the background,
and with mutual gestures of courtesy and amicable leave-takings the
two Emperors part company.

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)

Each for himself his family, his heirs;

For the wan weltering nations who concerns, -who cares ?

Chorus of Ironic Spirits

A pertinent query, in t-rutk /•—

But spoil not the sport by your ruth .*

’ Tis enough to make half
Yonder zodiac laugh
When rulers begin to allude
To their lack of ambition,

_ And strong opposition
To all but the general good /
i58

SCENE VI

PART FIRST

Spirit of the Years

Hush levities. Events press: turn to westward.
A nebulous curtain draws slowly across.

SCENE VI

SHOCKERWICK HOUSE, NEAR BATH

The interior of the Picture Gallery. Enter Wiltshire the owner,
and Pitt, who looks emaciated and walks feebly.

Wiltshire (pointing to a portrait)

Now here you have the lady we discussed:

A fine example of his manner, sir ?

Pitt

It is a fine example, sir, indeed,—

With that transparency amid the shades,

And those thin blue-green-greyish leafages
Behind the pillar in the background there,

Which seem the leaves themselves.—Ah, this is Quin.

(Moving to another picture.)

Wiltshire

Yes, Quin. A man of varied parts, though rough
And choleric at times. Yet, at his best.

As Falstaff, never matched, they say. But 1
Had not the fate to see him in the flesh.

Pitt

Churchill well carves him in his “ Characters ” :

“ His eyes, in gloomy socket taught to roll,
Proclaimed the sullen habit of his soul.

159

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

In fancied scenes, as in Life’s real plan,

He could not for a moment sink the man :

Nature, in spite of all his skill, crept in ;

Horatio, Dorax, Falstaff—still ’twas Quin.”

—He was at Bath when Gainsborough settled there
In that house in the Circus which we know.—

I like the portrait much.—The brilliancy
Of Gainsborough lies in this his double sway :
Sovereign of landscape he ; of portraiture
Joint monarch with Sir Joshua. . . . Ah?—that’s—
hark!

Is that the patter of a horse’s hoofs
Along the road ?

Wiltshire
I notice nothing, sir.

Pitt

It is a gallop, growing quite distinct.

And —can it be a messenger for me!

Wiltshire

I hope no awkward European news
To stop the honour of this visit, sir!

They listen. The gallop of the horse grows louder, and is
checked at the door of the house. There is a hasty knocking, and
a courier, splashed with mud from hard riding, is shown into the
gallery He presents a dispatch to Pitt, who >sits -down and
hurriedly opens it.

Pitt (to himself)

O heavy news indeed! . . . Disastrous; dire !

He appears
hand.

overcome as he sits, and covers his forehead with his

Wiltshire

I trust you are not ill, sir ?

160

SCENE VI

PART FIRST

Pitt (after some moments)

Could I have

A little brandy, sir, quick brought to me ?

Wiltshire

In one brief minute.

Brandy is brought in, and Pitt takes it.

Pitt

Now leave me, please, alone. I’ll call anon.

Is there a map of Europe handy here ?

Wiltshire fetches a map from the library, and spreads it before
the minister. Wiltshire, courier, and servant go out.

O God that I should live to see this day !

He remains awhile in a profound reverie; then resumes the
reading of the dispatch.

“ Defeated—the Allies—quite overthrown
At Austerlitz—last week.”— Where’s .Austerlitz ?

—But what avails it where the place is now ;

What corpse is curious on the longitude
And situation of his cemetery! . . .

The Austrians and the Russians overcome,

That vast adventuring army is set free
To bend unhindered strength against our strand. . . .
So do my plans through all these plodding years
Announce them built in vain! _

His heel on Europe, monarchies in chains
To Franee, I am as though I had never been.

He gloomily ponders the dispatch and the map some minutes
longer. At last he rises with difficulty, and rings the bell.

A servant enters.

Call up my carriage, please you, now at once ;

And tell your master I return to Bath
This moment—I may want a little help
In getting to the door here.

& 161 M

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Servant

Sir, I will,

And summon you my master instantly.

He goes out and re-enters with Wiltshire. Pitt is assisted from
the room.

Pitt

Roll up that map. ’Twill not be needed now
These ten years ! Realms, laws, peoples, dynasties,
Are churning to a pulp within the maw
Of empire-making Lust and personal Gain!

[Exeunt Pitt, Wiltshire, and servant; and in a few minutes
the carriage is heard driving off, and the scene closes.

SCENE VII

PARIS. A STREET LEADING TO THE TUILERIES

^ It is night, and the dim oil lamps reveal a vast concourse of
citizens of both sexes around the Palace gates and in the neighbour¬
ing thoroughfares.

Spirit of the Years (to the Spirit of Rumour)

Thou may st descend and join this crowd awhile ,

And speak what things shall come into thy mouth.

Spirit Sinister

Til harken / I wouldn’t miss it for the groans of
another Austerhtz! & J

The Spirit of Rumour enters
young foreigner.

on the scene in the disguise of a

Spirit (to a street-woman)

Lady, a late hour this to be afoot /

162

SCENE VII

PART FIRST

Woman

But such is meet in gallant dames like me.

For now He nears!—after a three months’ whirl
Of victories won on fields whose homely names
Had never swept the ear of mortal man
Beyond the haunts of neighbour peasantry ;

But, cymballed now by deathless deeds, become
Familiar rhythms in remotest homes!

Spirit

Rare ! To it again. I could give heed all night.

Woman

Poor profit, then, to me from my true trade,
Wherein hot competition is so rife
Already, since these victories brought to town
So many foreign jobbers in my line,

That I’d best hold my tongue from praise of fame!
However, one is caught by popular zeal,

And though five midnights have not brought a sou,
I, too, chant Jubilate like the rest.—

In courtesies have haughty monarchs vied
Towards the Conqueror! who, with men-at-arms
One quarter theirs, has vanquished by his nerve
Vast musterings four-hundred-thousand strong,
And given new tactics to the art of war
U nparalleled in Europe’s history !

Spirit

What man is this, whose might thou blazonest so —
Who makes the earth to tremble, shakes old thrones,
And turns the plains to wilderness ?

Woman

Dost ask

As ignorant, yet asking can define ?

What mean you, traveller ?

163

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Spirit

I am a stranger here,

A wandering wight, whose life has not been spent
This side the globe, though I can speak the tongue.

Woman

Your air has truth in’t; but your state is strange!
Had I a husband he should tackle thee.

Spirit

Dozens thou hast had-—batches more than she
Samaria knew, if now thou hast not one !

Woman

Wilt take the situation from this hour ?

Spirit

Thou know st not what thy frailty asks, good dame !

Woman

Well, learn in small the Emperor’s chronicle,

As gleaned from what my soldier-husbands say :—
Some five-and-forty standards of his foes
Are brought to Paris, borne triumphantly
In proud procession through the surging streets,
Ever as brands of fame to shine aloft
In dim-lit senate-halls and city aisles.

Spirit

Fair Munich sparkled with festivity
As there awhile he tarried, and was met
By the gay Josephine your Empress here.—
There, too, Eugene —

164

SCENE VII

PART FIRST
Woman

Napoleon’s stepson he-

Spirit

Received for gift tke hand of fair Princess
Augusta (daughter of Bavaria s crown,

Forced from her plighted troth to Baden! s heir),

And, to complete his honouring, was hailed
Successor to the throne of Italy.

Woman

How know you, ere this news has got abroad?

Spirit

Channels have I the common people lack .—

There, on the nonce, the forenamed Baden prince
Was joined to Stephanie Beauharnais, her
Who stands as daughter to the man we wait,

Some say as more.

Woman

They do ? Then such not I.

Can revolution’s dregs so soil thy soul

That thou shouldst doubt the eldest son thereof?

’Tis dangerous to insinuate nowadays!

Spirit

Right ! Lady many-spoused, more charity
Upbrims in thee than in some loftier ones
Who would not name thee with their white-washed
tongues .—

Enough. I am one whom, didst thou know my name,
Thou wouldst not grudge a claim to speak his mind.

Woman

A thousand pardons, sir.

165

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Spirit

Resume thy tale

If so thou wishesl.

Woman

Nay, but you know best-

Spirit

How laurelled progress through applauding crowds
Have marked his journey home. How Strasburg
town,

Stuttgart , Carlsruhe, acclaimed him like the rest:

How pageantry would here have welcomed him,

Had not his speed outstript intelligence.

—Now will a glimpse of him repay thee. Hark !

Shouts arise and increase in the distance, announcing Bonaparte’s
approach.

Well, Buonoparti has revived by land,

But not by sea. On that thwart element
Never will he incorporate his dream,

And float as master !

Woman

What shall hinder him ?

Spirit

That whick has hereto. England, so to say.

Woman

But shes in straits. She’s lost her Nelson now,

(A worthy man : he loved a woman well!)

George drools and babbles in a darkened room ;

Her heaven-born Minister declines apace ;

All smooths the Emperor’s sway.

1 66

SCENE VII

PART FIRST

Spirit

Tales have two sides,

Sweet lady. Vamped-up versions reach thee here .—
That Austerlitz was lustrous none ignores,

J5ut would it shock thy garrulousness to know
That the true measure of this Trafalgdr -—

Utter defeat, ay, France's naval death ,—

Your Emperor bade be hid ?

Woman

The seer’s gift

Has never plenteously endowed me, sir,

As in appearance you. But to plain sense
Things seem as stated.

Spirit

Well let seemings be .—

But know, these English take to liquid life
Right patly—nursed therefor in infancy
By rimes and rains which creep into their blood,

Till like seeks like. The sea is their dry land,

And, as on cobbles you, they way fare there.

Woman

Heaven prosper, then, their watery wayfarings
If they’ll leave us the land !—(The Imperial carriage appears.)
The Emperor!—

Long live the Emperor!—He’s the best by land.

Bonaparte’s carriage arrives, without an escort. The street lamps
shine in, and reveal the Empress Josephine seated beside him.
The plaudits of the people grow boisterous as they hail him Victor
of Austerlitz. The more active run after the carriage, which turns in
from the Rue St. Honore to the Carrousel, and thence vanishes into
the Court of the Tuileries.

Woman

May all success attend his next exploit!

167

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Spirit

Namely: to put the knife in Englands trade ,

And teack her treaty-manners—if he can !

Woman

I like not your queer knowledge, creepy man.

There’s weirdness in your air. I’d call you ghost
Had not the Goddess Reason laid all such
Past Mother Church’s cunning to restore.

—Adieu. I’ll not be yours to-night. I’d starve first!

She withdraws. The crowd wastes away, and the Spirit vanishes.

SCENE VIII

PUTNEY. BOWLING GREEN HOUSE

Pitt’s bedchamber,' from the landing without. It is afternoon.
At the back of the room as seen through the doorway is a curtained,
bed, beside which a woman sits, the Lady Hester Stanhope.
Bending over a table at the front of the room is Sir Walter
Farquhar, the physician. Parslow the footman and another servant
are near the door.

Tomline, Bishop of Lincoln, enters.

Farquhar (in a subdued voice)

I grieve to call your lordship up again,

But symptoms lately have disclosed themselves
That mean the knell to the frail life in him.

And whatsoever things of gravity
It may be needful to communicate,

Let them be spoken now. Time may not serve
If they be much delayed.

168

SCENE VIII

PART FIRST

T 0MLINE

Ah, stands it thus ? . . .
The name of his disease is—Austerlitz !

His brow’s inscription has been Austerlitz
From that dire morning in the month just past
When tongues of rumour twanged the word across
From its hid nook on the Moravian plains.

Farquhar

And yet he might have borne it, had the weight
Of governmental shackles been unclasped,,

Even partly, from his limbs last Lammastide,

When that despairing journey to the King
At Gloucester Lodge by Wessex shore was made
To beg such. But relief the King refused.

“Why want you Fox? What—Grenville and his
friends ? ”

He harped. “ You are sufficient without these—
Rather than Fox, why, give me civil war!”

And fibre that would rather snap than shrink
Held out no longer. Now the upshot nears.

Lady Hes ter Stanhope turns her head and comes forward.

Lady Hester

I am grateful you are here again, good friend!
He’s sleeping some light seconds; but once more
Has asked for tidings of Lord Harrowby,

And murmured of his mission to Berlin
As Europe’s haggard hope; if, sure, it be
That any hope remain !

Tomlin e

There’s no news yet.— _

These several days while I have been sitting by him
He has inquired the quarter of the wind,

And where that moment stood the stable-cock.

169

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

When I said “ East,” he answered “ That is well!
Those are the breezes that will speed him home ! ”

So cling his heart-strings to his country’s cause.

Farquhar

I fear that Wellesley’s visit here by now

Strung him to tensest strain. He quite broke down,

And has fast faded since.

Lady Hester

Ah ! now he wakes.

Please come and speak to him as you would wish

(to Tomline).

Lax>y Hester, Tomline, and Farquhar retire behind the bed,
wherein a short timevoices are heard in prayer. Afterwards the Bishop
goes to a writing-table, and Lady Hester comes to the doorway.
Steps are heard on the stairs, and Pitt’s friend Rose, the President
of the Board of Trade, appears on the landing and makes inquiries.

Lady Hester (whispering)

He wills the wardenry of his affairs

To his old friend the Bishop. But his words

Bespeak too much anxiety for me,

And underrate his services so far
That he has doubts if his high deeds deserve
Such size of recognition by the State
As would award slim pensions to his kin.

He had been fain to write down his intents,
ut the quill dropped from his unmuscled hand.—
Now his friend Tomline pens what he dictates
And gleans the hppings of his last desires.

over the bed withTsheet^cfpapCTon'whichT Bish ? p bendin S
writing. A little later he has previously been

cnr.4 sp.eXg 'S' “ d “ d Y!' bed-

from behind the curtain ami signfthe pier” £ m fS es

forward the two servants, who flso sig/ P Th B h ° P beckons

arquhar on one side of the bed, and Tomline on the other

170 9

SCENE VUI

PART FIRST

are spoken to by the dying man. The Bishop afterwards withdraws
from the bed and comes to the landing where the others are.

Tomline

A list of his directions has been drawn,

And feeling somewhat more at mental ease
He asks Sir Walter if he has long to live.

Farquhar just answered, in a soothing tone,

That hope still frailly breathed recovery.

At this my dear friend smiled and shook his head,

As if to say : “ I can translate your words,

But I reproach not friendship’s lullabies.”

Rose

Rest he required ; and rest was not for him.

Farquhar comes forward as they wait.

Farquhar

His spell of concentration on these things,
Determined now, that long have wasted him,

Have left him in a numbing lethargy,

From which I fear he may not rouse to strength
For speech with earth again.

Rose

But hark. He does.
They listen.

Pitt

My country! How I leave my country ! . . .

Tomline

Immense the matter those poor words contain!

171

Ah,—

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Rose

Still does his soul stay wrestling with that theme,

And still it will, even semi-consciously,

Until the drama’s done.

They continue to converse by the doorway in whispers. Pitt
sinks slowly into a stupor, from which he never awakens.

Spirit of the Pities (to the Spirit of the Years)
Do you intend to speak to him ere the close ?

Spirit of the Years

Nay, I have spoke too often / Time and time,

When all Earth's light has lain on the nether side,
And yapping midnight winds have leapt on roofs.
And raised for him an evil harlequinade
Of national disasters in long train,

That tortured him with harrowing grimace.

Have I communed with that intelligence.

Now I would leave him to pass out in peace,

And seek the silence unperturbedly.

Spirit Sinister

Even I ts official Spirit can show ruth
At man's fag end, when his destruction s sure /

Spirit of the Years

It suits us ill to cavil each with each.

I might retort. I only say to thee

Its slaves we are : Its slaves must ever be !

Chorus (aerial music)

Yea, from the Vague we shape, like these,

And tarry till That please

To null us by Whose stress we emanate. _

172

SCENE VIII

PART FIRST

Our incorporeal sense ,

Our overseeings, our supernal state,

Our readings Why and Whence,

Are but the flower of Maris intelligence ;
And that but an unreckoned incident
Of the all-urging Will, raptly magnipotent.

A gauze of shadow overdraws.

END OF THE FIRST PART

PART SECOND

175

PART SECOND

CHARACTERS

I. Phantom Intelligences

IThe Ancient Spirit of the
-[ Years.

I Chorus of the Years.

/The Spirit of the Pities.

\Chorus of the Pities.

("Spirits Sinister and Ironic.

■j Choruses of Sinister and
l Ironic Spirits.

/The Spirit of Rumour.

I Chorus of Rumours.

The Shade of the Earth.

Spirit-Messengers.

Recording Angels.

II. Persons

The names printed in italics are those of mute figures.

MEN

George the Third.

The Prince of Wales, afterwards
Prince Regent.

The Royal Dukes.

Fox.

Perceval.

Castlereagh.

An Under-Secretary of State.

Sheridan.

The Duke of Bedford.

Lord Yarmouth.

Two Young Lords.

Lords Moira and Keith .

Another Lord.

Other Peers , Ambassadors , Ministers ,
ex-Ministers, Members of Parlia¬
ment , and Persons of Quality and
Office.

Sir Arthur Wellesley , afterwards
Lard Wellington.

! Sir John Moore.
j Sir John Hope.

Sir David Baird.

General Beresford.

Colonel Anderson.
i Colonel Graham.

I Major Colborne, principal
| Aide-de-Camp to Moore.
i Captain Hardinge.

Paget , Fraser , Hill\ Napier.

A Captain of Hussars and

! Others.

j Other English Generals, Colonels ,
j Aides , Couriers , and Military

Officers.

Two Spies.

Two Army Surgeons.

An Army Chaplain.

A Sergeant of the

Waggon-

Train.

A Sergeant of the

Forty-

Third.

1 77

THE DYNASTS

Two Soldiers of the Ninth.
English Forces.

Deserters and Stragglers.

Dr. Willis.

Sir Henry Halford.

Dr. Heberden.

Dr. Baillie.

The King's Apothecary.

A Gentleman.

Two Attendants on the King.

Members of a London Club.

An Englishman in Vienna.
Trotter, Secretary to Fox.

Mr. Bagot.

Mr. Forth, Master of Cere¬
monies.

Servants.

A Beau , A Constable , etc.

Napoleon Bonaparte.

Joseph Bonaparte .

Louis and Jirbme Bonaparte, and
other Members of Napoleon's
Family.

Cambaceres, Arch-Chancellor.
Talleyrand.

President of the Senate.

Caulaincourt.

Lebrun , Duroc y Prince of Neufchdtel,
Grand-Duke of Berg.

Eugene de Beauhamais.

Champagny, Foreign Minister.
De Bausset, Chamberlain.

Murat.

Soult.

Massena.

Berthier.

JUNOT,

Foy.

Loison.

Ney, Cannes, and other French
Marshals , general mid regi¬
mental Officers , Aides, and
Couriers.

Two French Subalterns.

Another French Officer.

French Forces.

Grand Marshal, Grand Almoners ,
Heralds , and other Officials at
NapoliorHs marriage.

Abb£ de Pradt, Chapel-Master.
Corvisart, First Physicia?i.

Bourdier, Second Phy¬
sician.

Dubois, Accoucheur.

Maskers at a Ball.

Two Servants at the Tui-

LERIES.

A Parisian Crowd.

Guillet de Gevrilliere, a Con¬
spirator.

Louis XVIII. of France.

French Princes in England.

The King of Prussia.

Prince Henry of Prussia.

Prince Royal of Bavaria.

Prince Hohenlohe.

Gc7ierals Ruchel , Tauenzien, ami
Attendant Officers.

Prussian Forces.

Prussian Stragglers.

Berlin Citizens.

Carlos FY., King of Spain.
Fernando, Prince of Asturias,
Son to the King.

Godoy, t( Prince of Peace,”
Lover of the Queen.

Count of Montijo.

Viscount Materosa ^ c . ,
Don Diego de LAL? pan . lsh
Vega. J Deputies.

Godoy's Guards and other Soldiery.
Spanish Citizens.

A Life-Guardsman of Aranjuez.
A Servant to Godoy.

Spanish Forces.

Camp-Followers.

Muleteers.

Francis, Emperor of Austria.
Metternich.

Another Austrian Minister.
Schwarzenberg.
d’Audenarde, an Equerry.
Austrian Officers.
Aides-de-Camp.

CHARACTERS OF PART SECOND

Austrian Forces .

Couriers and Secretaries.

Viennese Citizens.

The Emperor Alexander.

The Grand-Duke Constantine.

Prince Labanoff.

Count Lieven.

Generals Bennigsen , Ouwarojf^ and
others.

Officers in attendance on Alexander.

WOMEN

Caroline, Princess of Wales.
Duchess of York.

Duchess of Rutland.
Marchioness of Salisbury.
Marchioness of Hertford.

Other Peeresses.

Mrs. Fitzherbert.

Ambassadors' Wives , Wives of

Ministers and Members of

Parliament\ and other Ladies
of Note.

The Empress Josephine.

Hortense, Queen of Holland.

The Mother of Napolion.

Princess Pauline , and others of
NapoUon's Faintly.

Duchess of Montebello.

Madame de Montesquiou.

Madame Blaise, Nurse to
Marie Louise.

Wives of French Ministers , and of
other Officials .

Other Ladies of the French Court.

Duchess of Angoul&me.

Louisa, Queen of Prussia.

The Countess Voss , Lady-in-Waiting.

Berlin Ladies.

Mar{a Luisa, Queen of Spain.
Thereza of Bourbon, wife of
Godoy.

Dona Josefa Tudo, Mistress of
Godoy.

Lady-in- Waiting to the Queen.

A Servant.

M. Louisa Beatrix, Empress of
Austria.

The Archduchess Maria Louisa,
afterwards the Empress Marie
Louise.

Madame Metternich.

Ladies of the Austrian Court.

The Empress-Mother of Russia.
Grand-Duchess Anne of Russia.

179

ACT FIRST

SCENE I

LONDON. FOX’S LODGINGS, ARLINGTON STREET

Fox, the Foreign Secretary in the new Ministry of All-the-
Talents, sits at a table writing. He is a stout, swarthy man, with
shaggy eyebrows, and his breathing is somewhat obstructed. His
clothes look as though they had been slept in. Trotter, his private
secretary, is writing at another table near.

A servant enters.

Servant

Another stranger presses to see you, sir.

Fox (without raising his eyes)

Oh ; another. What’s he like ?

Servant

A foreigner, sir; though not so out-at-elbows as
might be thought from the denomination. He says
he’s from Gravesend, having lately left Paris, and that
you sent him a passport. He comes with a police-
officer.

Fox

Ah, to be sure. I remember. Bring him in, and
tell the officer to wait outside. (Servant goes out.)
Trotter, will you leave us for a few minutes ? But be
within hail.

1 81

THE DYNASTS

ACT X

The secretary retires, and the servant shows in a man who calls
himself Guillet de Getoilli^re— a tall, thin figure of thirty, with
restless dark eyes. The door being shut behind him, he is left
alone with the minister. Fox points to a seat, leans back, and
surveys his visitor.

GevrilliSre

Thanks to you, sir, for this high privilege
Of hailing England, and of entering here.

Without a fore-extended confidence

Like this of yours, my plans would not have sped.

(A pause.)

Europe, alas ! sir, has her waiting foot
Upon the sill of further slaughter-scenes !

Fox

I fear it is so!—In your lines you wrote,

I think, that you are a true Frenchman born?

I did, sir.

GEVRILLikRE

Fox

How contrived you, then, to cross ?

Gevrilliere

It was from Embden that I shipped for Gravesend,
In a small sailer called the “ Toby,” sir,

Masked under Prussian colours. Embden I reached
On foot, on horseback, and by sundry shifts,

From Paris over Holland, secretly.

Fox

And you are stored with tidings of much pith,
Whose tenour would be priceless to the state ?

182

SCENE I

PART SECOND

Gevrilliere

I am. It is, in brief, no more nor less
Than means to mitigate and even end
These welfare-wasting wars ; ay, usher in
A painless spell of peace.

Fox

Prithee speak on.

No statesman can desire it more than I.

Gevrilliere (looking to see that the door is shut)

No nation, sir, can live its natural life,

Or think its thoughts in these days unassailed,

No crown-capt head enjoy tranquillity.

The fount of such high spring-tide of disorder,
Fevered disquietude, and forceful death,

Is One,—a single man. He—need I name ?—

The ruler is of France.

Fox

Well, in the past

I fear that it has looked so. But we see
Good reason still to hope that broadening views,
Politer wisdom, now is helping him
To saner guidance of his arrogant car.

GevrilliEre

The generous hope will never be fulfilled!
Ceasing to bluff, then ceases he to be. _

None sees that written largelier than himself.

Fox

Then what may be the valued revelation
That you can unlock in such circumstance ?

183

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Sir, I incline to spell you as a spy,

And not the honest help for honest men
You gave you out to be!

Gevrilli£re

I beg you, sir,

To spare me that suspicion. Never a thought
Could be more groundless. Solemnly I vow
That notwithstanding what his signals show
The Emperor of France is as I say.—

Yet bring I good assurance, and declare
A medicine for all bruised Europe’s sores!

Fox (impatiently)

Well, parley to the point, for I confess

No new negotiation do I note

That you can open up to work such cure.

Gevrilli£re

To speak then to the point permit me, sir :—
The sovereign remedy for an ill effect
Is the extinction of its evil cause.

Safely and surely how to compass this
I have the weighty honour to disclose,

Certain immunities being guaranteed

By those your power can influence, and yourself.

Fox (astonished)

Assassination ?

GEVRILLlfeRE

I care not for names !

A deed s true name is as its purpose is.

The lexicon of Liberty and Peace
Defines not this deed as assassination;

Though maybe it is writ so in the tongue
Of courts and universal tyranny.

184

SCENE I

PART SECOND

Fox

Why brought you this proposal here to me ?

GevrilliEre

My knowledge of your love of things humane,

Things free, things fair, of truth, of tolerance,

Right, justice, national felicity,

Prompted belief and hope in such a man!—

The matter is by now well forwarded,

A house at Plassy hired as pivot-point
From which the sanct intention can be worked,

And soon made certain. To our good allies
No risk attaches ; merely to ourselves.

Fox (touching a private bell)

Sir, your unconscienced hardihood confounds me,

And your mind’s measure of my character
Insults it sorely. By your late-sent lines
Of specious import, by your bland address,

I have been led to prattle hopefully
With a cut-throat confessed!

The head constable and the secretary enter at the same moment.

Ere worse befall,

Sir, up and get you gone most dexterously !

Conduct this man ; lose never sight of him .

(to the officer)

Tilhhaled aboard some anchor-weighing craft
Bound to remotest coasts from us and France.

GevrilliEre (unmoved)

How you may handle me concerns me little.

The project will as roundly ripe itself
Without as with me. Trusty souls remain,

Though my far bones bleach white on austral shores!—
I thank you for the audience. Long ere this

185

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

I might have reft your life! Ay, notice here—

(He produces a dagger; which is snatched from him.)

They need not have done that! Even had you risen
To wrestle with, insult, strike, pinion me.

It, would have lain unused. In hands like mine
And my allies’, the man of peace is safe,

Treat as he may our corporal tenement
In his misreading of a moral code.

[Exeunt Gevrilli^re and the constable.

Fox

Trotter, indeed you well may stare at me!

I look warm, eh ?—and I am windless, too ;

I have sufficient reason to be so.

That dignified and pensive gentleman
Was a bold bravo, waiting for his chance.

He sketched a scheme for murdering Bonaparte,
Either—as in my haste I understood—

By shooting from a window as he passed,

Or by some other wry and stealthy means
That haunt sad brains which brood on despotism,
But lack the tools to justly cope therewith !

On later thoughts I feel not fully sure
If, in my ferment, I did right in this.

No • hail at once the man in charge of him
And give the word that he is to be detained.

™. e secretary goes out Fox walks to
reflection till the secretaiy returns.

window in deep

Secretary

I was in time, sir. He has been detained.

* VA

Now what does strict state-honour ask of me >-
No less than that I bare this poppling plot ‘
To the French ruler and our fiercest foe !—

186

SCENE I

PART SECOND

Maybe ’twas but a hoax to pocket pay;

And yet it can mean more . . .

'The man’s indifference to his own vague doom
Beamed out as one exalted trait in him,

And showed the altitude of his rash dream !—
Well, now I’ll get me on to Downing Street,
There to draw up a note to Talleyrand
Retailing him the facts.—What signature
Subscribed this desperate fellow when he wrote ?

Secretary

“ Guillet de la Gevrilliere.” Here it stands.

Fox

Doubtless it was a false one. Come along.

(Looking out of the window.)

Ah—here’s Sir Francis Vincent: he’ll go with us.
Ugh, what a twinge! Time signals that he draws
Towards the twelfth stroke of my working-day!

I fear old England soon must voice her speech
With Europe through another mouth than mine!

Secretary

I trust not, sir. Though you should rest awhile.
The very servants half are invalid
From the unceasing labours of your post,

And these cloaked visitors of every clime
That market on your magnanimity
To gain an audience morning, night, and noon,
Leaving you no respite.

Fox

’Tis true; ’tis true.—
How I shall love my summer holiday
At pleasant Saint-Ann’s Hill!

He leans on the secretary’s arm, and they go out.

187

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

SCENE II

THE ROUTE BETWEEN LONDON AND PARIS

A view now nocturnal, now diurnal, from on high over the Straits
of Dover, and stretching from city to city. By night Paris and
London seem each as a little swarm of lights surrounded by a halo ;
by day as a confused glitter of white and grey. The Channel
between them is as a mirror reflecting the sky, brightly or faintly, as
the hour may be.

Spirit of the Pities

What mean these couriers shooting shuttlewise
To Pans and to London, turn and turn ?

Rumours (chanting in antiphons)

The aforesaid tidings from the minister ; spokesman in
Englands cause to states afar ;

Traverse the waters borne by one of such; and thereto
nonaparie s responses are :

“ The principles of honour and of truth which
actuate the sender s mind

ever

" :p‘“ n l ? rgelyl Take mr «««*.• we

read that this conjuncture undesigned

”“ am °f shmin zy°« that still our
eyes are set, as yours, on peace,

188

SCENE II

PART SECOND

“ To which great end the Treaty of Amiens must be the
ground-work of our amities

From London then: “The path to amity the King of
England studies to pursue ;

“ With Russia hand in hand he is yours to close the
long convulsions thrilling Europe through

Still fare the shadowy missioners across, by D over-road
and Calais Channel-track,

From Thames-side towers to Paris palace-gates ; from
Paris leisurely to London back.

Till thus speaks France : “ Much gnef it gives us that,
being pledged to treat, one Emperor with one King,

“ You yet have struck a jarring countemote and tone
fhat keys not with such promising.

“ In these last words, then, of this pregnant parle ; I
trust I may persuade your Excellency

“ That in no circumstance, on no pretence, a party to

our pact can Russia be.

189

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Spirit Sinister

Fortunately for the mamfacture of corpses by
machinery Napoldon sticks to this veto, and so wards
off the awkward catastrophe of a general peace descend -
ing upon Europe. Now England.

Rumours (continuing)

Thereon speeds down through Kent and Picardy , evenly
as some southing sky-bird s shade :—

“ We gather not from your Imperial lines a reason why
our words should be reweighed.

“ We hold to Russia not as our ally that is to be : she
stands full-plighted so ;

“ Thus trembles peace upon this balance-point: willyou
that Russia be let in or no ? ”

Then France rolls out rough words across the strait:
“To treat with you confederate with the Tsar ;

‘ Presumes us sunk m sloughs of shamefulness from
which we yet stand gloriously afar! .

“ The English army must be Flanders-fed, and entering
Picardy with pompous prance, *

190

SCENE II

PART SECOND

“ To warrant such ! Enough. Our comfort is, the
crime of further strife lies not with France

Spirit of the Pities

Alas ! what prayer will save the struggling lands,
Whose lives are ninepins to these bowling hands ?

Chorus of Rumours

France secretly with—Russia plights her troth !
Britain , that lonely isle, is slurred by both.

Spirit Sinister

It is as neat as an uncovered check at chess ! You
may now mark Fox's blank countenance at finding
himself thus rewarded for the good turn done to
Bonaparte, and at the extraordinary conduct of his
chilly friend the Muscovite.

Spirit of the Pities

His hand so trembles it can scarce retain

The quill wherewith he lets Lord Yarmouth know

Reserve is no more needed!

Spirit Ironic

flow enters another character of this remarkable
little piece—Lord Lauderdale—and again the messengers
fly!

Spirit of the Pities

But what strange figure, pale and noiseless, comes,
By us perceived, unrecognized by those,

Into the very closet and retreat
Of Englands Minister?

191

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Spirit of the Years

The Tipstaff he

Oftke Will—the Many-masked, my good friend Death .—
The statesmans feeble form you may perceive
Now hustled into the Invisible,

And the unfinished game of Dynasties
Left to proceed without him !

Spirit of the Pities

Here, then, ends

My hope for Europe's reason-wrought repose !

He was the friend of peace—did his great best
To shed her balms upon humanity ;

And now he s gone ! No substitute remains.

Spirit Ironic

Ay ; the remainder of the episode is frankly farcical.
Negotiations are again affected; but finally you discern
Lauderdale applying for passports; and the English
Parliament declares to the nation that peace with France
cannot be made.

Rumours (concluding)

The smouldering dudgeon of the Prussian king, mean¬
while, upon the horizons rim afar

Bursts into running fame, that all his signs offriendli-
ness were met by moves for war,

Attend and hear, for hear ye faintly may, his manifesto
made at Erfurt town,

192

SCENE III

PART SECOND

That to arms only dares he now confide the safety and
the honour of his crown !

Spirit of the Years

Draw down the curtain , then , and overscreen
This too-protracted verbal fencing-scene ,

And let us turn to clanging foot and horse ,
Ordnance , and all the enginry of Force !

Clouds close over the perspective.

SCENE III

THE STREETS OF BERLIN

It is afternoon, and the thoroughfares are crowded with citizens
in an excited and anxious mood. A central path is left open for
some expected arrival.

There enters on horseback a fair woman, whose rich brown
curls stream flutteringly in the breeze, and whose long blue habit
flaps against the flank of her curvetting white mare. She is the
renowned Louisa, Queen of Prussia, riding at the head of a
regiment of hussars and wearing their uniform. As she prances
along the thronging citizens acclaim her enthusiastically.

Spirit of the Pities

Who is this fragile Fair, in fighting trim ?

Spirit of the Years

She is the pride of Prussia, whose resolve
Gives ballast to the purpose of her spouse,

And holds him to what men call governing.

Spirit of the Pities

Queens have engaged in war; but wars loud trade
Rings with a roar unnatural, fitful, forced.

Practised by womans hands !

193

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Spirit of the Years

Of her we view

The enterprise is that of scores of men,

The strength but half-a-one's.

Spirit of the Pities

Would fate had ruled

The valour had been his, hers but the charm !
Spirit of Rumour

But he has nothing on’t, and she has all.

The shameless satires of the bulletins
Dispatched to Paris, thence the wide world through,
Disturb the dreams of her by those who love her,
And thus her brave adventures for the realm
Have blurred her picture, soiled her gentleness.
And wrought her credit harm.

First Citizen (vociferously)

Yes, by God : send an ultimatum to Paris forthwith ;
that’s what we’ll do, by God. This Confederation of
the Rhine was the evil thought of an evil man bent
on ruining us!

Second Citizen

This country double-faced and double-tongued,
This France, or rather say, indeed, this Man—
(Peoples are honest dealers in the mass)— .

This man, to sign a stealthy scroll with Russia
That shuts us off from all indemnities,

While swearing faithful friendship with our King,
And, still professing our safe wardenry,

To fatten other kingdoms at our cost,

Insults us grossly, and makes Europe clang
With echoes of our wrongs. The little states
Of this antique and homely German land
Are severed from their blood-allies and kin—

194

SCENE HI

PART SECOND

Hereto of one tradition, interest, hope—

In calling lord this rank adventurer,

Who’ll thrust them as a sword against ourselves.—
Surely Great Frederick sweats within his tomb!

Third Citizen

Well, we awake, though we have slumbered long,
And She is sent by Heaven to kindle us.

The Queen approaches to pass back again with her suite. The
vociferous applause is repeated. They regard her as she nears.

To cry her Amazon, a blusterer,

A brazen comrade of the bold dragoons
Whose uniform she dons ! Her, whose each act
Shows but a mettled modest woman’s zeal,
Without a hazard of her dignity
Or moment’s sacrifice of seemliness,

To fend off ill from home!

Fourth Citizen (entering)

The tidings fly that Russian Alexander

Declines with emphasis to ratify

The pact of his ambassador with France,

And that the offer made the English King
To compensate the latter at our cost
Has not been taken.

Third Citizen

And it never will be!
Thus evil does not always flourish, faith.

Throw down the gage while God is fair to us ;

He may be foul anon ! (A pause.)

Fifth Citizen (entering)

Our ambassador Lucchesini. is already leaving
Paris. He could stand the Emperor no longer, so the
Emperor said he could not stand Lucchesini. Knobels-
dorf, who takes his place, has decided to order his

195

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

snuff by the ounce and his candles by the pound, lest
he should not be there long enough to use more.

The Queen goes by, and they gaze at her and at the escort of
soldiers.

Haven’t we soldiers? Haven’t we the Duke of
Brunswick to command ’em ? Haven’t we provisions,
hey? Haven’t we fortresses and an Elbe, to bar the
bounce of an invader ?

The cavalcade passes out of sight and the crowd draws off.

First Citizen

Heaven, I
rage!

must to beer and ’bacco, to soften my

[Exeunt citizens.

Spirit of the Years

So doth the Will objectify Itself
In likeness of a sturdy people s wrath,

Which takes no count of the new trends of time,
Trusting ebbed glory in a present need .—

What if their strength should equal not their fire.

And their devotion dull their vigilance ?—

Uncertainly, by fits, the Will doth work

In Brunswick s blood ’ their chief, as in themselves ;

It ramifies in streams that intermit

And make their movement vague, old fashioned, slow

To foil the modern methods counterposed !

_ Evening descends on the city, and it grows dusk. The soldiers
being dismissed from duty, some young officers in a frolic of defiance
a t, draw their swords and whet them on the steps of the French

-rsss’ th ' y p “ s ' The noi “ ° f '**** “

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)

The soul of a nation distrest
Is aflame.

And keavmg with eager unrest
_ In its aim

To assert its old prowess, and stouten its chronicled fame >

196

SCENE IV

PART SECOND

Semichorus I

It boils in a boisterous thrill
Through the mart,

Unconscious well-nigh as the Will
Of its fart:

Would it wholly might be so, and feel not the forth¬
coming smart!

Semichorus II

In conclaves no voice of reflection
Is heard ,

King, Councillors, grudge circumspection
A word',

And victory is visioned, and seemings as facts are
averred.

Chorus

Yea, the soul of a nation distrest
Is aflame,

And heaving with eager unrest
In its aim

A t supreme desperations to blazon the national name !

Midnight strikes, lights are extinguished one by one, and the
scene disappears.

SCENE IV

THE FIELD OF JENA

Day has just dawned through a grey October haze. The French,
with their backs to the nebulous light, loom out and show them¬
selves to be already under arms ; Lannes holding the centre, Ney
the right, Soult the extreme right, and Augereau the left The
Imperial Guard and Murat’s cavalry are drawn up on the Land-
grafenberg, behind the centre of the French position. In a valley
stretching along to the rear of this height flows northward towards
the Elbe the little river Saale, on which the town of Jena stands.

On the irregular plateaux in front of the French lines, and almost

197

THE DYNASTS act i

close to the latter, are the Prussians under Tauenzien ; and away
on their right rear towards Weimar the bulk of the army under
Prince Hohenlohe. The Duke of Brunswick (father of the
Princess of Wales) is twelve miles off with his force at Auerstadt, in
the valley of the Ilm.

Enter Napoleon, and men bearing torches who escort him. He
moves along the front of his troops, and is lost to view behind the
mist and surrounding objects. But his voice is audible.

Napoleon

Keep you good guard against their cavalry,

In past repute the formidablest known,

And such it may be now; so asks our heed.

Receive it, then, in square, unflinchingly.—
Remember, men, last year you captured Ulm,

So make no doubt that you will vanquish these!

Soldiers

Long live the Emperor! Advance, advance!

Napoleon

Nay, caution, men! ’Tis mine to time your deeds
By light of long experience : yours to do them.

DUMB SHOW

Almost immediately glimpses reveal that Lannes’ corps is moving
forward, and amid an unbroken clatter of firelocks spreads out
further and wider upon the stretch of country in front of the Land-
grafenberg. The Prussians, surprised at discerning in the fog such
masses of the enemy close at hand, recede towards the Ilm. *

From Prince Hohenlohe, who is with the body of the Prussians
on the Weimar road to the south, comes perspiring the bulk of the
infantry to rally the retreating regiments of Tauenzien, and he
hastens up himself with the cavalry and artillery. The action is
renewed between him and Ney as the clocks of Jena strike ten.

But Augereau is seen coming to Ney’s assistance on one flank
of the Prussians, Soult bearing down on the other, while Napoleon
on the Landgrafenberg orders the Imperial Guard to advance. The
doomed Prussians are driven back, this time more decisively, falling
in great numbers and losing many as prisoners as they reel down
the sloping land towards the banks of the Ilm behind them.

198

SCENE IV

PART SECOND

General Ruchel, in a last despairing effort to rally, faces the
French onset in person and alone. He receives a bullet through
the chest and falls dead.

The crisis of the struggle is reached, though the battle is not
over. Napoleon, discerning from the Landgrafenberg that the
decisive moment has come, directs Murat to sweep forward with
all his cavalry. It engages the shattered Prussians, surrounds them,
and cuts them down by thousands.

From behind the horizon, a dozen miles off, between the din of
guns in the visible battle, there can be heard an ominous roar, as of
a second invisible battle in progress there. Generals and other
officers look at each other and hazard conjectures between whiles,
the French with exultation, the Prussians gloomily.

Hohenlohe

That means the Duke of Brunswick, I conceive,
Impacting on the enemy’s further force
Led by, they say, Davout and Bernadotte. . . .
God grant his star less lurid rays than ours.

Or this too pregnant, hoarsely-groaning day
Shall, ere its loud delivery be done,

Have twinned disasters to the fatherland
That fifty years will fail to sepulchre!

Enter a straggler on horseback.

Straggler

Prince, I have circuited by Auerstadt,

And bring ye dazzling tidings of the fight,
Which, if report by those who saw’t be true,
Has raged thereat from clammy day-dawn on,
And left us victors!

Hohenlohe

Thitherward go I,

And patch the mischief wrought upon us here!

Enter a second and then a third straggler.

Well, wet-faced men, whence come ye? What d’ye
bring?

199

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Straggler II

Your Highness, I rode straight from Hassenhausen,
Across the stream of battle as it boiled
Betwixt that village and the banks of Saale,

And such the turmoil that no man could speak
On what the issue was !

Hohenlohe (to Straggler III)

Can you add aught ?

Straggler III

Nothing that’s clear, your Highness.

Hohenlohe

Man, your mien

Is that of one who knows, but will not say.

Detain him here.

Straggler III
The blackness of my news,

Your Highness, darks my sense! ... I saw this
much:

The Duke of Brunswick, spurring on to head
His charging grenadiers, received in the face
A grape-shot stroke that gouged out half of it,
Proclaiming then and there his life fordone.

Hohenlohe

Fallen? Brunswick! Reed in council, rock in fire
Ah, this he looked for. Many a time of late
Has he, by some strange gift of foreknowing,

Declared his fate was hovering in such wise !

Straggler III

His aged form being borne beyond the strife,

The gallant Moellendorf, in flushed despair,

200

SCENE V

PART SECOND

Swore he would not survive ; and, pressing on,

He, too, was slaughtered. Patriotic rage
Brimmed marshals’ breasts and men’s. The King
himself

Fought like the commonest. But nothing served.

His horse is slain ; his own doom yet unknown.

Prince William, too, is wounded. Brave Schmettau
Is broke ; himself disabled. All give way,

And regiments crash like trees at felling-time!

Hohenlohe

No more. We match it here. The yielding lines
Still sweep us backward. Backward we must go!

[Exeunt Hohenlohe, Staff, stragglers, etc.

The Prussian retreat from Jena quickens to a rout, many
thousands being taken prisoners by Murat, who pursues them to
Weimar, where the inhabitants fly shrieking through the streets.

The October day closes in to evening. By this time the troops
retiring with the King of Prussia from the second battlefield of
Auerstadt have intersected Ruchel’s and Hohenlohe’s flying
battalions from Jena. The crossing streams of fugitives strike panic
into each other, and the tumult increases with the thickening
darkness till night renders the scene invisible, and nothing remains
but a confused diminishing noise, and fitful lights here and there.
The fog of the morning returns, and curtains all.

SCENE V

BERLIN. A ROOM OVERLOOKING A PUBLIC PLACE

A fluttering group of ladies is gathered at the window, gazing
out and conversing anxiously. The time draws towards noon, when
the clatter of a galloping horse’s hoofs is heard echoing up the long
Potsdamer-Strasse, and presently turning into the Leipziger-Strasse
reaches the open space commanded by the ladies’ outlook. It
ceases before a Government building opposite them, and the rider
disappears into the courtyard.

201

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

First Lady

Yes: surely he is a courier from the field!

Second Lady

Shall we not hasten down, and take from him
The doom his tongue may deal us ?

Third Lady

We shall catch

As soon by watching here as hastening hence
The tenour of his news. (They wait.) Ah, yes : see—
see

The bulletin is straightway to be nailed!

He was, then, from the field. . . .

They wait on while the bulletin is affixed.

Second Lady

I cannot scan the words the scroll proclaims ;

Peer as I will, these too quick-thronging dreads
Bring water to the eyes. Grant us, good Heaven,
That victory be where she is needed most
To prove Thy goodness! . . . What do you make
of it ?

Third Lady (reading, through a glass)

“ The battle strains us sorely ; but resolve

May save us even now. Our last attack

Has failed, with fearful loss. Once more we strive.”

A long silence in the room. Another rider is heard approaching,
above the murmur of the gathering citizens. The second lady
looks out.

Second Lady

A straggler merely he. . . . But they decide,
At last, to post his news, wild-winged or no.

202

SCENE V

PART SECOND

Third Lady (reading again through her glass)

“ The Duke of Brunswick, leading on a charge,

Has met his death-doom. Schmettau, too, is slain ;
Prince William wounded. But we stand as yet,
Engaging with the last of our reserves.”

The agitation in the street communicates itself to the room.
Some of the ladies weep silently as they wait, much longer this
time. Another horseman is at length heard clattering into the Platz,
and they lean out again with painful eagerness.

Second Lady

An adjutant of Marshal Moellendorf s,

If I define him rightly. Read—O read !—

Though reading draw them from their socket-holes
Use your eyes now!

Third Lady (glass up)

As soon as ’tis affixed. . . .
Ah—this means much ! The people’s air and gait
Too well betray disaster. (Reading.) “ Berliners,

The King has lost the battle ! Bear it well.

The foremost duty of a citizen
Is to maintain a brave tranquillity.

This is what I, the Governor, demand

Of men and women now. . . . The King lives still.”

They turn from the window and sit in a silence broken only by
monosyllabic words, hearing abstractedly the dismay without that
has«followed the previous excitement and hope.

The stagnation is ended by a cheering outside, of subdued
emotional quality, mixed with sounds of grief. They again look
forth. Queen Louisa is leaving the city with a very small escort,
and the populace seem overcome. They strain their eyes after her
as she disappears.

Enter fourth lady.

First Lady

How does she bear it ? Whither does she go ?

203

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Fourth Lady

She goes to join the King at Custrin, there
To abide events—as we. Her heroism
So schools her sense of her calamities
As out of grief to carve new queenliness,

And turn a mobile mien to statuesque,

Save for a sliding tear.

The ladies leave the window severally.

Spirit Ironic

So the Will plays at flux and reflux still.

This monarchy, one-half whose pedestal
Is built of Polish bones, has bones home-made !
Let the fair woman bear it. Poland did.

Spirit of the Years

Meanwhile the mighty Emperor nears apace,
And soon will glitter at the city gates
With palpitating drums, and breathing brass,
And rampant proudly jingling retinue.

An evening mist cloaks the scene.

SCENE VI

THE SAME

It is a brilliant morning, with a fresh breeze, and not a cloud,
the open Platz and the adjoining streets are filled with dense
crowds of citizens, in whose upturned faces curiosity has mastered
consternation and grief.

Martial music is heard, at first faint, then louder, followed by
a trampling of innumerable horses and a clanking of arms and
accoutrements. Through a street on the right hand of the view from
ofBo lndOWS C ° me ° f French dragoons heralding the arrival

204

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Re-enter the room hurriedly and cross to the windows several
ladies as before, some in tears.

First Lady

The kingdom late of Prussia, can it be
That thus it disappears ?—a patriot-cry,
A battle, bravery, ruin ; and no more ?

Second Lady

Thank God the Queen’s gone !

Third Lady

To what sanctuary ?

From earthquake shocks there is no sheltering cell!

—Is this what men call conquest ? Must it close
As historied conquests do, or be annulled
By modern reason and the urbaner sense ?—

Such issue none would venture to predict,

Yet. folly ’twere to nourish foreshaped fears
And suffer in conjecture and in deed.—

If verily our country be dislimbed,

Then at the mercy of his domination
The face of earth will lie, and vassal kings
Stand waiting on himself the Overking,

Who ruling them rules all; till desperateness
Sting and excite a bonded last resistance,

And work its own release.

Second Lady

He comes even now

From sacrilege. 'I learn that, since the fight,

In marching here by Potsdam yesterday,

Sans-Souci Palace drew his curious feet,

Where even great Frederick’s tomb was bared to him.

205

ACT I

THE DYNASTS

Fourth Lady

All objects in the Palace—cared for, kept
Even as they were when our arch-monarch died
The books, the chair, the inkhorn, and the pen
He quizzed with flippant curiosity ;

And entering where our hero’s bones are urned
He seized the sword and standards treasured there,
And with a mixed effrontery and regard
Declared that Paris soon should see them all
As gifts to the H6tel des Invalides.

Third Lady

Such rodomontade is cheap : what matters it!

A galaxy of marshals, forming Napoleon’s staff, now enters the
Platz immediately before the windows. In the midst rides the
Emperor himself. The ladies are silent. The procession passes
along the front until it reaches the entrance to the Royal Palace.
At the door NapolEon descends from his horse and goes into the
building amid the resonant trumpetings of his soldiers and the
silence of the crowd.

Second Lady (impressed)

O why does such a man debase himself
By countenancing loud scurrility
Against a queen who cannot make reprise!

A power so ponderous needs no littleness—

The last resort of feeble desperates !

Enter fifth lady.

Fifth Lady (breathlessly)

Humiliation grows acuter still.

He placards rhetoric to his soldiery
On their distress of us and our allies,

Declaring he’ll not stack away his arms
Till he has choked the remaining foes of France
In their own gainful glut.—Whom means he, think
you?

206

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Us?

First Lady

Third Lady
Russia ? Austria ?

Fifth Lady

Neither : England.—Yea,
Her he still holds the master mischief-mind,

And marrer of the countries’ quietude,

By exercising untold tyranny
Over all ports and seas.

Second Lady

Then England’s doomed!
When he has overturned the Russian rule,

England comes next for wrack. They say that
know! . . .

Look—he has entered by the Royal doors
And makes the Palace his.—Now let us go!—

Our course, alas ! is—whither ?

[Exeunt ladies.

The curtain drops temporarily.

Semichorus I of Ironic Spirits (aerial music)

Deeming himself omnipotent

With the Kings of the Christian continent ,

To warden the waves was his further bent.

Semichorus II

But the weaving Will from eternity ,

(.Hemming them in by a circling sea)

Evolved the fleet of the Englishry.

Semichorus I

The wane of his armaments ill-advised ,

At Trafalgdr , to a force despised,

Was a wound which never has cicatrized.

20 7

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Semichorus II

This, O this is the cramp that grips /

And freezes the Emperor's finger-tips
From signing a peace with the Land of Ships.

Chorus

The Universal-empire plot

Demands the rule of that wave-walled spot;

And peace with England cometh not !

THE SCENE REOPENS

A lurid gloom now envelops the Plata and city; and Bonaparte
is heard as from the Palace:

Voice of Napoleon

These monstrous violations being in train
Of law and national integrities
By English arrogance in things marine,

(Which dares to capture simple merchant-craft,

In honest quest of harmless merchandize,

For crime of kinship to a hostile power)

Our vast, effectual, and majestic strokes
In this unmatched campaign, enable me
To bar from commerce with the Continent
All keels of English frame. Hence I decree :—

Spirit of Rumour

This outlines his august “Berlin Decree."

Maybe he meditates its scheme in sleep,

Or hints it to his suite , or syllables it
While shaping, to his scribes.

Voice of NapolEon (continuing)

All England s ports to suffer strict blockade ;

All traffic with that land to cease forthwith
All natives of her isles, wherever met,

208

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

To be detained as windfalls of the war.

All chattels of her make, material, mould.

To be good prize wherever pounced upon :

And never a bottom hailing from her shores
But shall be barred from every haven here.

This for her heavy harms to human rights, ^

And shameless sauciness to neighbour powers.

Spirit Sinister

I spell herein that our excellently high-coloured
drama is not played out yet !

Spirit of the Years

Nor will it be for many a month of moans ,

And summer shocks, and winter-whitened bones.

The night gets darker, and the Palace outlines are lost.

SCENE VII

TILSIT AND THE RIVER NIEMKN

The scene is viewed from the windows of Bonaparte's tem¬
porary quarters. Some sub-officers of his suite are looking out
upon it.

It is the day after midsummer, about one o’clock. A multitude
of soldiery and spectators lines each bank of the broad river which,
stealing slowly north-west, bears almost exactly in its midst a moored
raft of bonded timber. On this as a floor stands a gorgeous pavilion
of draped woodwork, having at each side, facing the respective banks
of the stream, a round-headed doorway richly festooned The
cumbersome erection acquires from the current a rhythmical move¬
ment, as if it were breathing, and the breeze now and then produces a
shiver on the face of the stream.

DUMB SHOW

On the south-west or Prussian side rides the Emperor Napoleon
in uniform, attended by the Grand Duke of Berg, the Prince of

209 ’ p

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

NeufchAtel, Marshal Bessi£res, Duroc Marshal of the Palace,
and Caulaincourt Master of the Horse. The Emperor looks well,
but is growing fat. They embark on an ornamental barge in front
of them, which immediately puts off. It is now apparent to the
watchers that a precisely similar enactment has simultaneously taken
place on the opposite or Russian bank, the chief figure being the
Emperor Alexander— a graceful, flexible man of thirty, with a
courteous manner and good-natured face. He has come out from
an inn on that side, accompanied by the Grand-Duke Constantine,
General Bennigsen, General Ouwaroff, Prince Labanoff, and
Adjutant-General Count Lieven.

The two barges draw towards the raft, reaching the opposite sides
of it about the same time, amidst discharges of cannon. Each
Emperor enters the door that faces him, and meeting in the centre of
the pavilion they formally embrace each other. They retire together to
the screened interior, the suite of each remaining in the outer half of
the pavilion.

More than an hour passes while they are thus invisible. The
French officers who have observed the scene from the lodging of
Napoleon walk about idly, and ever and anon go curiously to the
windows, again to watch the raft.

Chorus of the Years (aerial music)

The prelude to this smooth scene—mark well!—were
the shocks whereof the times gave token
Vaguely to us ere last years snows had greyed Lithuan
pine and pool,

Which we told at the fall of the faded leaf, when the
pride of Prussia was bruised and broken ,

And the Man of Adventure sat in the seat of the Man
of Method and rigid Rule .

Semichorus I of the Pities

Snows incarnadined were thine, 0 Eylau , field of the
wide white spaces,

And frozen lakes, and frozen limbs, and blood iced hard
as it left the veins:

St eel-cased squadrons swathed in cloud-drift, plunging'
to doom through pathless places,

And forty thousand dead and nigh dead, strewing the
early-nighted plains .

210

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Semichorus II

Friedland to these adds its tale of victims, its midnight
marches and hot collisions ,

Its plunge , at his word\ on the enemy hooped by the
bended river and famed Mill stream ,

As he shatters the moves of the loose-knit nations to curb
his exploitful soul\s ambitions ,

And their great Confederacy dissolves like the diorama
of a dream.

DUMB SHOW (continues)

Napoleon and Alexander emerge from their seclusion, and each
is beheld talking to the suite of his companion apparently in flatter¬
ing compliment An effusive parting, which signifies itself to be but
temporary, is followed by their return to the river shores amid the
cheers of the spectators.

Napoleon and his marshals arrive at the door of his quarters and
enter, and pass out of sight to other rooms than that of the fore¬
ground in which the observers are loitering. Dumb show ends.

A murmured conversation grows audible, carried on by two
persons in the crowd beneath the open windows where the French
officers are gathered. Their dress being the native one, and their
tongue unfamiliar, they seem to the officers to be merely inhabitants
gossiping * and their voices continue unheeded.

First English Spy 1 (below)

Did you get much for me to send on ?

Second English Spy 1

i have got hold of the substance of their parley.
Surely no truce in European annals ever led to so odd
an interview. They were like a belle and her beau,
by God! But, queerly enough, one of Alexander’s
staff said to him as he reached the raft: “ Sire, let me
humbly ask you not to forget your father’s fate!”
Grim—Eh ?

1 It has been conjectured of late that these adventurous spirits were Sir Robert
Wilson and, possibly, Lord Hutchinson, present there at imminent risk of their
lives.

21 I

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

First Spy

Anything about the little island which shall be
nameless ?

Second Spy

Much ; and startling, too. “ Why are we at war ? ”
says Napoleon when they met.—“ Ah—why! ” said
t’other.—“ Well,” said Boney, “ I am fighting you only
as an ally of the English, and you are simply serving
them, and not yourself, in fighting me.”—“ In that
case,” says Alexander, “we shall soon be friends, for I
owe her as great a grudge as you.”

First Spy

Dammy, go that length, did they!

Second Spy

Then they plunged into the old story about English
selfishness, and greed, and duplicity. But the climax
related to Spain, and it amounted to this : they agreed
that the Bourbons of the Spanish throne should be
made to abdicate, and Bonaparte’s relations set up as
sovereigns instead of them.

First Spy

Somebody must ride like hell to let our Cabinet
know!

Second Spy

I have written it down in cipher, not to trust to
memory, and to guard against accidents.—They also
agreed that France should have the Pope’s dominions,
Malta, and Egypt; that Napoldon’s brother Joseph
should have Sicily as well as Naples, and that they
would partition the Ottoman Empire between them.

.212

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

First Spy

Cutting up Europe like a plum-pudding. Par
nobile fratrum!

Second Spy

Then the worthy pair came to poor Prussia, whom
Alexander, they say, was anxious about, as he is under
engagements to her. It seems that Napoleon agrees
to restore to the King as many of his states as will
cover Alexander’s promise, so that the Tsar may fee.
free to strike out in this new line with his new friend.

First Spy

Surely this is but surmise ?

Second Spy

Not at all. One of the suite overheard, and I got
round him. There was much more, which I did not
learn. But they are going to soothe and flatter the
unfortunate King and Queen by asking them to a
banquet here.

First Spy

Such a spirited woman will never come'!

Second Spy

We shall see. Whom necessity compels needs
must: and she has gone through an Iliad of woes!

First Spy

It is this Spanish business that will stagger
England, by God! And now to let her know it.

French Subaltern (looking out above)

What are those townspeople talking about so
earnestly, I wonder ? The lingo of this place has an
accent akin to English.

213

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Second Subaltern

No doubt because the races are both Teutonic.

The spies observe that they are noticed, and disappear in the crowd*
The curtain drops.

SCENE VIII

THE SAME

The midsummer sun is low, and a long table in the aforeshown
apartment is laid out for a dinner, among the decorations being
bunches of the season’s roses.

At the vacant end of the room (divided from the dining end by
folding-doors, now open) there are discovered the Emperor Napoleon,
the Grand-Duke Constantine, Prince Henry of Prussia, the
Prince Royal of Bavaria, the Grand Duke of Berg, and
attendant officers.

Enter the Tsar Alexander. Napoleon welcomes him, and
the twain move apart from the rest, Bonaparte placing a chair for
his visitor and flinging himself down on another.

Napoleon

The comforts I can offer are not great,

Nor is the accommodation more than scant
That falls to me for hospitality;

But, as it is, accept.

Alexander

It serves me well.

And to unbrace the bandages of state
Is as clear air to incense-stifled souls.
What of the Queen ?

NapolEon

She’s coming with the King.
We have some quarter-hour to spare or more
Before their Majesties are timed for us.

2x4

SCENE VIII

PART SECOND

Alexander

Good. I would speak of them. That she should
show here

After the late events, betokens much!

Abasement in so proud a woman’s heart

(His voice grows tremulous.)

Is not without a dash of painfulness.

And I beseech you, sire, that you hold out
Some soothing hope to her ?

Napoleon

I have, already!—

Now, sire, to those affairs we entered on :

Strong friendship, grown secure, bids me repeat
That you have been much duped by your allies.

Alexander shows mortification.

Prussia’s a shuffler, England a self-seeker,

Nobility has shone in you alone.

Your error grew of over-generous dreams,

And misbeliefs by dullard ministers. _

By treating personally we speed affairs
More in an hour than they in blundering months.
Between us two, henceforth, must stand no third.
There’s peril in it, while England’s mean ambition
Still works to get us skewered by the ears ;

And in this view your chiefs-of-staff concur.

Alexander

The judgment of my officers I share.

Napoleon

To recapitulate. Nothing can greaten you
Like this alliance. Providence has flung
My good friend Sultan Selim from his throne,
Leaving me free in dealings with the Porte,

215

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

And I discern the hour as one to end
A rule that Time no longer lets cohere.

If I abstain, its spoils will go to swell
The power of this same England, our annoy ;

That country which enchains the trade of towns
With such bold reach as to monopolize,

Among the rest, the whole of Petersburg’s—

Ay !—through her purse, friend, as the lender there !—
Shutting that purse, she may incite to—what ?
Muscovy’s fall, its ruler’s murdering.

Her fleet at any minute can encoop
Yours in the Baltic ; in the Black Sea, too ;

And keep you snug as minnows in a glass !

Hence we, fast-fellowed by our mutual foes,

Seaward the British, Germany by land,

And having compassed, for our common good,

The Turkish Empire’s due partitioning,

As comrades can conjunctly rule the world
To its own gain and our eternal fame!

Alexander (stirred and flushed)

I see vast prospects opened!—yet, in truth,

Ere you, sire, broached these themes, their outlines
loomed

Not seldom in my own imaginings ;

But with less clear a vision than endows
So clear a captain, statesman, philosoph,

As centre in yourself; whom had I known
Sooner by some few years, months, even weeks,

I had been spared full many a fault of rule.

Now as to Austria. Should we call her in ?

Napokeon

Two in a bed I have slept, but never three.

Alexander

Ha-ha! Delightful. And, then nextly, Spain ?

216

SCENE VIII

PART SECOND

Napoleon

I lighted on some letters at Berlin,

Wherein King Carlos offered to attack me.

A Bourbon, minded thus, so near as Spain,

Is dangerous stuff. He must be seen to soon ! . .
A draft, then, of our treaty being penned,

We will peruse it later. If King George
Will not, upon the terms there offered him,
Conclude a ready peace, he can be forced.
Trumpet yourself as France’s firm ally,

And Austria will be fain to do the same:

England, left nude to such joint harassment,

Must shiver—fall.

Alexander (with naive enthusiasm)

It is a great alliance!

Napoleon

Would it were one in blood as well as brain—

Of family hopes, and sweet domestic bliss!

Alexander
Ah—is it to my sister you refer ?

Napoleon

The launching of a lineal progeny

Has been much pressed upon me, much, of late,

For treasons which I will not dwell on now.

Staid counsellors, my brother Joseph, too,

Urge that I loose the Empress by divorce,

And re-wive promptly for the country’s good.
Princesses even have been named for me!—
However this, to-day, is premature,

And ’twixt ourselves alone. ...

The Queen of Prussia must ere long be here :
Berthier escorts her. And the King, too, comes.
She’s one whom you admire ?

217

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Alexander (reddening ingenuously)

Yes. . . . Formerly

I had—did feel that some faint fascination
Vaguely adorned her form. And, to be plain,

Certain reports have been calumnious,

And wronged an honest woman.

Napoleon

As I knew!

But she is wearing thready : why, her years
Must be full one-and-thirty, if she’s one.

Alexander (quickly)

No, sire. She’s twenty-nine. If traits teach more

It means that cruel memory gnaws at her

As fair inciter to that fatal war

Which broke her to the dust! ... I do confess

(Since now we speak on’t) that this sacrifice

Prussia is doomed to, still disquiets me.

Unhappy King! When I recall the oaths
Sworn him upon great Frederick’s sepulchre,

And—and my promises to his sad Queen,

It pricks me that his realm and revenues
Should be stript down to the mere half they were !

Napoleon (coolly)

Believe me, ’tis but my regard for you

Which lets me leave him that! Far easier ’twere

To leave him none at all.

[He rises and goes to the window.
But here they are.

No ; it’s the Queen alone, with Berthier
As I directed. Then the King will follow.

Alexander

Let me, sire, urge your courtesy to bestow
Some gentle words on her.

218

SCENE VIII

PART SECOND

Napoleon

Ay, ay; I will.

Enter Queen Louisa of Prussia on the arm of Berthier.
She appears in majestic garments and with a smile on her lips, so
that her still great beauty is impressive. But her eyes bear traces of
tears. She accepts Napoleon’s attentions with the stormily sad air
of a wounded beauty. Whilst she is being received the King
arrives. He is a plain, shy, honest-faced, awkward man, with a
wrecked and solitary look. His manner to NapolEon is, neverthe¬
less, dignified, and even stiff.

The company move into the inner half of the room, where the
tables are, and the folding-doors being shut, they seat themselves at
dinner, the Queen taking a place between NapolEon and
Alexander.

Napoleon

Madame, I love magnificent attire ;

But in the present instance can but note
That each bright knot and jewel less adorns
The brighter wearer than the wearer it!

Queen (with a sigh)

You praise one, sire, whom now the wanton world
Has learnt to cease from praising! But such words
From such a quarter are of worth, no less.

Napoleon

Of worth as candour, madame ; not as gauge.

Your reach in rarity outsoars my scope.

Yet, do you know, a troop of my hussars,

Th£t last October day, nigh captured you ?

Queen

Nay! Never a single Frenchman did I see.

Napoleon

Not less it was that you exposed yourself,

And should have been protected. But at Weimar,
Had you but sought me, ’twould have bettered you.

219

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Queen

I had no zeal to meet you, sire, alas!

Napoleon (after a silence)

And how at Memel do you sport with time ?

Queen

Sport ? I!—I pore on musty chronicles,

And muse on usurpations long forgot,

And other historied dramas of high wrong!

Napoleon

Why con not annals of your own rich age ?

They treasure acts well fit for pondering.

Queen

I am reminded too much of my age
By having had to live in it. May Heaven
Defend me now, and my wan ghost anon,

From conning it again!

Napoleon

Alas, alas!

Too grievous, this, for one who is yet a queen !

Queen

No ; I have cause for vials more of grief.—

Prussia was blind in blazoning her power
Against the Mage of Earth! . . .

The embers of great Frederick’s deeds inflamed her :
His glories swelled her to her ruining.

Too well has she been punished! (Emotion stops her.)

220

SCENE VIII PART SECOND

Alexander (in a low voice, looking anxiously at her)

Say not so.

You speak as all were lost. Things are not thus!
Such desperation has unreason in it,

And bleeds the hearts that crave to comfort you.

Napoleon (to the King)

I trust the treaty, further pondered, sire,

Has consolations ?

King (curtly)

I am a luckless man ;

And muster strength to bear my lucklessness
Without vain hope of consolations now.

One thing, at least, I trust I have shown you, sire,
That I provoked not this calamity !

At Anspach first my feud with you began—
Anspach, my Eden, violated and shamed
By blushless tramplings of your legions there !

Napoleon

It’s rather late, methinks, to talk thus now.

King (with more choler)

Never too late for truth and plainspeaking!

Napoleon (blandly)

Tonyour ally, the Tsar, I must refer you.

He was it, and not I, who tempted you
To push for war, when Eylau must have shown
Your every profit to have lain in peace.—

He can indemn ; yes, much or small; and may.

King (with a head-shake)

I would make up, would well make up, my mind
To half my kingdom’s loss, could in such limb
J 221

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

But Magdeburg not lie. Dear Magdeburg,
Place of my heart-hold ; that I would retain!

Napoleon

Our words take not such pattern as is wont
To grace occasions of festivity.

[He turns brusquely from the King.

The banquet proceeds with a more general conversation. When
finished a toast is proposed: “ The Freedom of the Seas,” and drunk
with enthusiasm.

Spirit Sinister

Another hit at England and her tubs !

I hear harsh echoes from her chalky chines.

Spirit of the Pities

O heed not England now / Still read the Queen .

One grieves to see her spend her pretty spells

Upon the man who has so injured her.

They rise from table, and the folding-doors being opened they
pass into the adjoining part of the room.

Here are now assembled Murat, Talleyrand, Kourakin,
Kalkreuth, Berthier, Bessi£res, Caulaincourt, Labanoff,
Bennigsen, and others. Napoleon having spoken a few words
here and there resumes his conversation with Queen Louisa, and
parenthetically offers snuff to the Countess Voss, her lady-in-waiting.
Talleyrand, who has observed Napoleon’s growing interest in the
Queen, contrives to get near him.

Talleyrand (in a whisper)

Sire, is it possible that you can bend
To let one woman’s fairness filch from you
All the resplendent fortune that attends
The grandest victory of your grand career ?

The Queen’s quick eye observes and flashes at the whisper, and
she obtains a word with the minister.

222

SCENE VIII

PART SECOND

Queen (sarcastically)

I should infer, dear Monsieur Talleyrand,

Only two persons in the world regret
My having come to Tilsit.

Talleyrand

Madame, two ?

Can any!—who may such sad rascals be ?

Queen

You, and myself, Prince. (Gravely.) Yes! myself and
you.

Talleyrand’s face becomes impassive, and he does not reply.
Soon the Queen prepares to leave, and Napoleon rejoins her.

Napoleon (taking a rose from a vase)

Dear Queen, do pray accept this little token
As souvenir of me before you go ?

He offers her the rose, with his hand on his heart. She hesitates,
but accepts it.

Queen (impulsively, with waiting tears)

Let Magdeburg come with it, sire! O yes!

Napoleon (with sudden frigidity)

It is for you to take what I can give,

And I give this—no more. 1

She turns her head to hide her emotion, and withdraws.
Napoleon steps up to her, and offers his arm. She takes it
silently, and he perceives the tears on her cheeks. They cross
towards the ante-room, away from the other guests.

1 The traditional present of the rose was probably on this occasion, though it is
not quite matter of certainty.

223

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Napoleon (softly)

Still weeping, dearest lady! Why is this ?

Queen (seizing his hand and pressing it)

Your speeches darn the tearings of your sword !—
Between us two, as man and woman now,

Is’t even possible you question why!

O why did not the Greatest of the Age—

Of future ages—of the ages past,

This one time win a woman’s worship—yea,

For all her little life!

Napoleon (gravely)

Know you, my Fair,

That I—ay, I—in this deserve your pity.—

Some force within me, baffling mine intent,

Harries me onward, whether I will or no.

My star, my star is what’s to blame—not I..

It is unswervable !

Queen

Then now, alas!

My duty’s done as mother, wife, and queen.—

I’ll say no more—but that my heart is broken!

[Exeunt Napoleon, Queen, and Lady-in-Waiting.
Spirit of the Years

He spoke thus at the Bridge of Lodi. Strange,

He's of the few in Europe who discern
The working of the Will.

Spirit of the Pities

If that be so.

Better for Europe lacked he such discerning !

Napoleon returns to the room and joins Talleyrand.

224

SCRNE V!H

PART SECOND

Napoleon (aside to his minister)

My God, it was touch-and-go that time, Talleyrand!
She was within an ace of getting over me. As she
stepped into the carriage she said in her pretty way,
“ O I have been cruelly deceived by you! ” And when
she sank down inside, not knowing I heard, she burst
into sobs fit to move a statue. The Devil take me if I
hadn’t a good mind to stop the horses, jump in, give
her a good kissing, and agree to all she wanted. Ha-
ha, well; a miss is as good as a mile. Had she come
sooner with those sweet, beseeching blue eyes of hers,
who knows what might not have happened! But she
didn’t come sooner, and I have kept in my right mind.

The Russian Emperor, the King of Prussia, and other guests
advance to bid adieu. They depart severally. When they are gone
Napoleon turns to Talleyrand.

Adhere, then, to the treaty as it stands :

Change not therein a single article,

But write it fair forthwith.

[Exeunt Napoleon, Talleyrand, and other ministers and officers in

waiting.

Shade ok the Earth

Some surly voice afar I heard by now
Of an enisled Britannic quality ;
Wots any of the cause ?

Spirit Ironic

Perchance I do !

Britain is roused, in her slow, stolid style,

By Bonaparte's pronouncement at Berlin
Against her cargoes, commerce, life itself ;

And now from out her watery citadel

Blows counterblasting “ Orders .” Rumours tell.

225

THE DYNASTS

ACT r

Rumour I

1 ' From havens of fierce France and her allies,
With poor or precious freight of merchandize
Whoso adventures, England pounds as prize ! ”

Rumour II

Thereat Napoldon names her, furiously,

Curst Oligarch, Arch-pirate of the sea.

Who shall lack room to live while liveth he !

Chorus of the Pities (aerial music)
And peoples are enmeshed in new calamity !
Curtain of Evening Shades.

226

ACT SECOND

SCENE I

THE PYRENEES AND VALLEYS ADJOINING

The view is southward from upper air, immediately over the region
that lies between Bayonne on the north, Pampeluna on the south, and
San Sebastian on the west, including a portion of the Cantabrian
mountains. The month is February, and snow covers not only the
peaks but the lower slopes. The roads over the passes are well
beaten.

DUMB SHOW

At various elevations multitudes of Napoleon's soldiery, to the
number of about thirty thousand, are discerned in a creeping progress
across the frontier from the French to the Spanish side. The thin
long columns serpentine along the roads, but are sometimes broken,
while at others they disappear altogether behind vertical rocks and
overhanging woods. The heavy guns and the whitey-brown tilts of
the baggage-waggons seem the largest objects in the procession,
which are dragged laboriously up the incline to the watershed, their
lumbering being audible as high as the clouds.

Simultaneously the river Bidassoa, in a valley to the west, is
being crossed by a train of artillery and another thirty thousand men,
all forming part of the same systematic advance.

Along the great highway through Biscay the wondering native
cartel draw their sheep-skinned ox-teams aside, to let the regiments
pass, and stray groups of peaceable field-workers in Navarre look
inquiringly at the marching and prancing progress.

Time passes, and the various northern strongholds are approached
by these legions. Their governors emerge at a summons, and when
seeming explanations have been given the unwelcome comers are
doubtfully admitted.

The chief places to which entrance is thus obtained are
Pampeluna and San Sebastian near the front of the scene, and far
away towards the shining horizon of the Mediterranean, Figueras
and Barcelona.

Dumb Show concludes as the mountain mists close over.

227

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

SCENE II

ARANJUEZ, NEAR MADRID. A ROOM IN THE PALACE
OF GODOY, THE “ PRINCE OF PEACE ”

A private chamber is disclosed, richly furnished with paintings,
vases, mirrors, silk hangings, gilded lounges, and several lutes of
rare workmanship. The hour is midnight, the room being lit by
screened candelabra. In the centre at the back of the scene is a
large window heavily curtained.

Godoy and the Queen Maria Luisa are dallying on a sofa.
The Prince of Peace is a fine handsome man in middle life, with
curled hair and a mien of easy good-nature. The Queen is older,
but looks younger in the dim light, from the lavish use of beautifying
arts. She has pronounced features, dark eyes, low brows, black
hair bound by a jewelled bandeau, and brought forward in curls
over her forehead and temples, long heavy ear-rings, an open
bodice, and sleeves puffed at the shoulders. A cloak and other
mufflers he on a chair beside her.

Godoy (after a silence)

The life-guards still insist, Love, that the King

Shall not leave Aranjuez.

Queen

Let them insist.

Whether we stay, or whether we depart,

Napoleon soon draws hither with his host!

Godoy

He says he comes pacifically. . . . But no!

Queen

Dearest, we must away to Andalusia,

Thence to America when time shall serve.

228

SCENE n

PART SECOND

Godoy

I hold seven thousand men to cover us,

And ships in Cadiz port. But then—the Prince
Flatly declines to go. He lauds the French
As true deliverers.

Queen

Go Fernando must ! . . .

O my sweet friend, that we—our sole two selves—
Could but escape and leave the rest to fate,

And in a western bower dream out our days !—

For the King’s glass can run but briefly now,

Shattered and shaken as his vigour is.—

But ah—your love burns not in singleness!

Why, dear, caress Josefa Tudo still?

She does not solve her soul in yours as I.

And why those others even more than her ? . . .

How little own I in thee !

Godoy

Such must be.

I cannot quite forsake them. Don’t forget
The same scope has been yours in former years.

Queen

Yes, Love; I know. I yield! You cannot leave
'them ;

But if you ever would bethink yourself
How long I have been yours, how truly all
Those other pleasures were my desperate shifts
To soften sorrow at your absences,

You would be faithful to me!

Godoy

True, my dear.—

229

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Yet I do passably keep troth with you,

And fond you with fair regularity;—

A week beside you, and a week away.

Such is not schemed without some risk and strain.—
And you agreed J osefa should be mine,

And, too, Thereza, without jealousy !

(A noise is heard without.)

Ah, what means that ?

He jumps up from her side and crosses the room to the window,
where he lifts the curtain cautiously. The Queen follows him with
a scared look.

Queen

A riot can it be ?

Godoy

Let me put these out ere they notice them ;

They think me at the Royal Palace yonder.

He hastily extinguishes the candles except one taper, which he
places in a recess, so that the room is in shade. He then draws
back the curtains, and she joins him at the window, where, enclosing
her with his arm, he and she look out together.

In front of the house a guard of hussars is stationed, beyond
them spreading the Plaza or Square. On the other side rises in the
lamplight the white front of the Royal Palace. On the flank of the
Palace is a wall enclosing gardens, bowered alleys, and orange
groves, and in the wall a small door.

A mixed multitude of soldiery and populace fills the space in
front of the King’s Palace, and they shout and address each other
vehemently. During a lull in their vociferations is heard the
peaceful purl of the Tagus over a cascade in the Palace grounds.

Queen

Lingering, we’ve risked too long our chance of flight!
The Paris Terror will repeat it here.

Not for myself I fear. No, no; for thee !

(She clings to him.)

If they should hurt you, it would murder me
By heart-bleedings and stabs intolerable !

230

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Godoy (kissing her)

The first thought now is how to get you back
Within the Palace walls. Why would you risk
To come here on a night so critical ?

Queen (passionately)

I' could not help it—nay, I would not help !
Rather than starve my soul I venture all.—

Our last love-night—last, maybe, of long years,
Why do you chide me now ?

Godoy

Dear Queen, I do not:

I shape these sharp regrets but for your sake.

Hence you must go, somehow, and quickly too.

They think not yet of you in threatening thus,

But of me solely. . . . Where does your lady wait ?

Queen

Below. One servant with her. They are true,

And can be let know all. But you—but you !

(Uproar continues.)

Godoy

I can escape. Now call them. All three cloak
And veil as when you came.

They retreat into the room. Queen Maria Luisa’s lady-in-
waiting and servant are summoned. Enter both. All three then
muffle themselves up, and Godoy prepares to conduct the Queen
downstairs.

Queen

Nay, now! I will not have it. We are safe ;
Think of yourself. Can you get out behind ?

231

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Godoy

I judge so—when I have done what’s needful here.—
The mob knows not the bye-door—slip across ;

Thence around sideways.—All’s clear there as yet.

[The Queen, her lady-in-waiting, and the servant go out hurriedly.

Godoy looks again from the window. The mob is some way off,
the immediate front being for the moment nearly free of loiterers;
and the three muffled figures are visible, crossing without hindrance
towards the door in the wall of the Palace Gardens. The instant
they reach it a sentinel springs up, challenging them.

Godov

Ah—now they are doomed! My God, why did she
come!

A parley takes place. Something, apparently a bribe, is handed
to the sentinel, and the three are allowed to slip in, the Queen
having obviously been unrecognized. He breathes his relief.

Now for the others. Then—ah, then Heaven knows!

He sounds a bell and a servant enters.

Where is the Countess of Castillofiel ?

Servant

She’s looking for you, Prince.

Godoy

Find her at once.

Ah—here she is.—That’s well.—Go watch the Pli.fa.

(to servant).

Godov’s mistress, the Dona Josef a Tudo, enters. She is a
young and beautiful woman, the vivacity of whose large dark eyes is
nowiclouded. She is wrapped up for flight. The servant goes out.

Josefa (breathlessly)

I should have joined you sooner, but I knew
The Queen was fondling with you. She must needs

232

SCKNK II

PART SECOND

Come hampering you this night of all the rest,
As if not gorged with you at other times!

Godoy

Don’t, pretty one! needless it is in you,

Being so well aware who holds my love.—

I could not check her coming, since she would.
You well know how the old thing is, and how
I am compelled to let her have her mind!

He kisses her repeatedly.

JOSEFA

But look, the mob is swelling! Pouring in
By thousands from Madrid—and all afoot.

Will they not come on hither from the King’s?

Godov

Not just yet, maybe. You should have sooner fled !
The coach is waiting and the baggage packed.

(He again peers out.)

Yes, there the coach is; and the clamourers near,

Led by Montijo, if I see aright.

Yes, they cry “ Uncle Peter!”—that means him.
There will be time yet. Now I’ll take you down
So far as I may venture.

[They leave the room.

In a few minutes Godoy, having taken her down, re-enters and
again looks out. Josefa’s coach is moving off with a small escort
of Godoy’s guards of honour. A sudden yelling begins, and the
crowd rushes up and stops the vehicle. An altercation ensues.

Crowd

Uncle Peter, it is the Favourite carrying off Prince
Fernando. Stop him!

233

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Josefa (putting her head out of the coach)

Silence their uproar, please, Senor Count of
Montijo! It is a lady only, the Countess of Cas-
tillofiel.

Montijo

Let her pass, let her pass, friends ! It is only that
pretty wench of his, Pepa Tudo, who calls herself a
Countess. Our titles are put to comical uses in these
days. We shall catch the cock-bird presently!

Crowd (to each other)

The King and Queen and Fernando are at their
own Palace—not here!

The Do*a Josefa’s carnage is allowed to pass on, as a shout
from some who have remained before the Royal Palace attracts the
attention of the multitude, which surges back thither.

Crowd (nearing the Palace)

. Call out the King and the Prince. Long live the
King! He shall not go. Hola! He is gone! Let
us see him! He shall abandon Godoy!

The clamour before the Royal Palace still increasing, a figure
emerges upon a balcony, whom Godoy recognizes by the lamplight
to be Fernando, Prince of Asturias. He can be seen waving his
hand. The mob grows suddenly silent.

Fernando (in a shaken voice)

Citizens! the King my father is in the palace with
the Queen. He has been much tried to-day.

Crowd

Promise, Prince, that he shall not leave us
Promise!

234

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Fernando

I do. I promise in his name. He has mistaken
you, thinking you wanted his head. He knows better
now.

Crowd

The villain Godoy misrepresented us to him!
Throw out the Prince of the Peace!

Fernando

He is not here, my friends.

Crowd

Then the King shall announce to us that he has
dismissed him! Let us see him. The King; the
King!

Fernando goes in. King Carlos comes out reluctantly, and
bows to their cheering. He produces a paper with a trembling hand.

King (reading)

“As it is the wish of the people-”

Crowd

Speak up, your Majesty!

King (more loudly)

As it is the wish of the people, I release
Don Manuel Godoy, Prince of the Peace, from
the posts of Generalissimo of the Army and Grand
Admiral of the Fleet, and give him leave to with¬
draw whither he pleases.”

Crowd

Huzza! Though it’s mildly put. Huzza!

23s

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

King

Citizens, to-morrow the decree is to be posted in
Madrid.

Crowd

Huzza! Long life to the King, and death to
Godoy!

King Carlos disappears from the balcony, and the populace,
still increasing in numbers, look towards Godoy’s mansion, as if
deliberating how to attack it. Godoy retreats from the window into the
room, and gazing round him starts. A pale, worn, but placid lady,
in a sombre though elegant robe, stands here in the gloom. She is
Thereza of Bourbon, the Princess of Peace.

Princess

It is only your unhappy wife, Manuel. She will
not hurt you!

Godoy (shrugging his shoulders)

Nor will they hurt you \ Why did you not stay in
the Royal Palace ? You would have been more com¬
fortable there.

Princess

I don’t recognize why you should specially value
my comfort. You have saved your real wives. How
can it matter what happens to your titular one ?

Godoy

Much, dear. I always play fair. But it being
your blest privilege not to need my saving I was left
free to practise it on those who did. (Mob heard
approaching.) Would that I were in no more danger
than you!

Princess

Puf!

236

SCENE II

PART SECOND

He again peers out. His guard of hussars stands firmly in front
of the mansion; but the life-guards from the adjoining barracks,
who have joined the people, endeavour to break the hussars of
Godoy. A shot is fired, Godov’s guard yields, and the gate and
door are battered in.

Crowd (without)

Murder him! murder him! Death to Manuel Godoy!

They are heard rushing into the court and house.

Princess

Go, I beseech you! You can do nothing for me,
and I pray you to save yourself! The heap of mats
in the lumber-room will hide you!

Godoy hastes to a jib-door concealed by sham book-shelves,
presses the spring of it, returns, kisses her, and then slips out.

His wife sits down with her back against the jib-door, and fans
herself. She hears the crowd trampling up the stairs, but she does
not move, and in a moment people burst in. The leaders are armed
with stakes, daggers, and various improvised weapons, and some
guards in undress appear with halberds.

First Citizen (peering into the dim light)

Where is he ? Murder him ! (Noticing the Princess.)
Come, where is he ?

Princess

The Prince of Peace is gone. I know not whither.

Second Citizen

Who is this lady ?

Life-guardsman

Manuel Godoy’s Princess.

Citizens (uncovering)

Princess, a thousand pardons grant us!—you
An injured wife—an injured people we!

237

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Common misfortune makes us more than kin.
No single hair of yours shall suffer harm.

The Princess bows.

First Citizen

But this, Senora, is no place for you,

For we mean mischief here! Yet first will cede
Safe conduct for you to the Palace gates,

Or elsewhere, as you wish.

Princess

Do what you will with me.

My wish is nought.
But he’s not here.

Several of them form an escort, and accompany her from the
room and out of the house. Those remaining, now a great throng,
begin searching the room, and in bands invade other parts of the
mansion. ^ c

Some Citizens (returning)

It is no use searching. She said he was not here,
and she s a woman of honour.

First Citizen (drily)

She’s his wife.

They leave the room for another search, but return still baffled.

Several Citizens

. He must have slipped out somehow! Smaskfhis
mcknacks, since we can’t smash him.

, T . he y l-'Cgin knocking the furniture to nieces teavino* rt

hangmgs, tramphng on the musical instruments, ’ and kkkinr!iJli
trough die paintings they have unhung from Z ^ These

thewindfw^

serenadT as itfcdkTon the floor^' & ta ^ e ’ and starts Paying “a

Enter the Count of Montijo.
238

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Montijo

Stop, friends ; stop this! There is no sense in it—

It shows but useless spite! I have much to say:

The French Ambassador, de Beauharnais,

Has come, and sought the King. And next Murat,
With thirty thousand men, half cavalry,

Is closing in upon our doomed Madrid!

I know not what he means, this Bonaparte;

He makes pretence to gain us Portugal,

But what want we with her ? ’Tis like as not
His aim’s to noose us vassals all to him!

The King will abdicate, and shortly too,

As those will live to see who live not long.—

We have saved our nation from the Favourite,

But who is going to save us from our Friend ?

The mob desists dubiously and goes out ; the musical box upon
the floor plays on, the taper bums to its socket, and the room
becomes wrapt in the shades of night.

SCENE III

LONDON : THE MARCHIONESS OF SALISBURY’S

A large reception-room is disclosed, arranged for a conversazione.
It is\n evening in the summer following, and at present the chamber
is empty and in gloom. At one end is an elaborate device, repre¬
senting Britannia offering her assistance to Spain, and at the other
a figure of Time crowning the Spanish Patriots’ flag with laurel.

Spirit of the Years

O clarionists of human welterings,

Relate how Europe's madding movement brings
This easeful haunt into the path of palpitating things !

239

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Rumours (chanting)

The Spanish King has bowed unto the Fate
Which bade him abdicate :

The sensual Queen, whose passionate caprice
Has held her chambering with " the Prince of Peace,"
And wrought the Bourbons fall\

Holds to her Love in all;

And Bonaparte has ruled that his and he
Henceforth displace the Bourbon dynasty.

The Spanish people, handled in such sort,

As chattels of a Court ,

Dream dreams of England. Messengers are sent
In secret to the assembled Parliament ,

In faith that Englands hand
Will stouten them to stand\

And crown a cause which, hold they, bond and free
Must advocate enthusiastically.

Spirit of the Years

So the Will heaves through Space , and moulds the times ,
With mortals for Its fingers ! We shall see
Again men s passions, virtues, visions , crimes ,

Obey resistlessly

The purposive, unmotived ’ dominant Iking
Which sways in brooding dark their wayfaring /

The reception-room is lighted up, and the hostess comes in.
There arrive Ambassadors and their wives, the Dukes and Duchesses
of Rutland and Somerset, the Marquis and Marchioness of
Stafford, the Earls of Stair, Westmoreland, Gower, Essex,
Viscounts and Viscountesses Cranley and Morpeth, Viscount
Melbourne, Lord and Lady Kinnaird, Baron de Rolle, Lady
Charles Greville, the Ladies Cavendish, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas
Hope, Mr. Gunning, Mrs. Fitzherbert, and many other notable
personages. Lastly, she goes to the door to welcome severally the

240

SCENT. Ill

PART SECOND

Prince of Wales, the Princes of France, and the Princess
Castelcicala, and returns to the room with them.

Lady Salisbury (to the Prince of Wales)

I am sorry to say, sir, that the Spanish Patriots are
not yet arrived. I doubt not but that they have been
delayed by their ignorance of the town, and will soon
be here.

Prince ok Wales

No hurry whatever, my dear hostess. Gad, we’ve
enough to talk about! I understand that the arrange¬
ment between our ministers and these noblemen will
include the liberation of Spanish prisoners in this
country, and the providing ’em with arms, to go back
and fight for their independence.

Lady Salisbury

It will be a blessed event if they do check the
career of this infamous Corsican. I have just heard
that that poor foreigner Guillet de la Gevrilli&re, who
proposed to Mr. Fox to assassinate him, died a miser¬
able death a few days ago in the Bicetre—probably by
torture, though nobody knows. Really one almost
wishes Mr. Fox had-. O here they are!

Enter the Spanish Viscount de Materosa and Don Diego de la
Vega. They are introduced by Captain Hill and Mr. Bagot, who
escort them. Lady Salisbury presents them to the Prince and
others

Prince of Wales

By Gad, Viscount, we were just talking of ’ee.
You have had some adventures in getting to this
country ?

Materosa (assisted by Bagot as interpreter)

Sir, it has indeed been a trying experience for us.

241 R

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

But here we are, impressed by a deep sense of gratitude
for the signal marks of attachment your country shows
us.

Prince of Wales

You represent, practically, the Spanish people ?
Materosa

We are immediately deputed, sir,

By the Assembly of Asturias,

More sailing soon from other provinces.

We bring official writings, charging us
To clinch and solder Treaties with this realm
That may promote our cause against the foe.

Nextly a letter to your gracious King ;

Also a Proclamation, soon to sound
And swell the pulse of the Peninsula,

Declaring that the act by which King Carlos
And his son Prince Fernando cede the throne
To whomsoe’er Napoleon may appoint,

Being an act of cheatery, not of choice,

Unfetters us from our allegiant oath.

Mrs. Fitzherbert

The usurpation began, I suppose, with the divisions
in the Royal Family ?

Materosa

Yes, madam, and the protection they foolishly
requested from the Emperor ; and their timid intent of
flying secretly helped it on. It was an opportunity he
had been awaiting for years.

Mrs. Fitzherbert

All brought about by this man Godoy, Prince of
Peace!

242

SCENE HI

PART SECOND

Prince of Wales

Dash my wig, mighty much you know about it,
Maria! Why, sure, Boney thought to himself, “ This
Spain is a pretty place; ’twill just suit me as an extra
acre or two ; so here goes.”

Don Diego (aside to Bagot)

This lady is the Princess of Wales ?

Bagot

Hsh! no, Senor. The Princess lives at large at
Kensington and other places, and has parties of her
own, and doesn’t keep house with her husband. This
lady is—well, really his wife, you know, in the opinion
of many ; but-

Don Diego

Ah! Ladies a little mixed, as they were at our
Court! She’s the Pepa Tudo to this Prince of Peace ?

Bagot

O no—not exactly that, Senor.

Don Diego

5^a, ya. Good. I’ll be careful, my friend. You
are not saints in England more than we are in Spain!

Bagot

We are not. Only you sin with naked faces, and
we with masks on.

Don Diego

Virtuous country!

243

THE DYNASTS

ACT I

Duchess of Rutland

It was understood that Ferdinand, Prince of
Asturias, was to marry a French princess, and so unite
the countries peacefully ?

Materosa

It was. And our credulous prince was tempted to
meet Napoleon at Bayonne. Also the poor simple
King, and the infatuated Queen, and Manuel Godoy.

Duchess of Rutland

Then Godoy escaped from Aranjuez?

Materosa

Yes, by hiding in the garret. Then they all
threw themselves upon Napoleon’s protection. In his
presence the Queen swore that the King was not
Fernando’s father! Altogether they form a queer
little menagerie. What will happen to them nobody
knows.

Prince of Wales

And do you wish us to send an army at once ?

Materosa

What we most want, sir, are arms and ammunition.
But we leave the English Ministry to co-operate in its
own wise way, anyhow, so as to sustain us in resenting
these insults from the Tyrant of the Earth.

Duchess of Rutland (to the Prince of Wales)

What sort of aid shall we send, sir ?

Prince of Wales

We are going to vote fifty millions, I hear. We’ll
whack him, and preserve your noble country for ’ee,
Senor Viscount. The debate thereon is to come off

244

SCENE III

PART SECOND

to-morrow. It will be the finest thing the Commons
have had since Pitt’s time. Sheridan, who is to open
it, says he and Canning are to be absolutely unanimous ;
and, by God, like the parties in his “ Critic,” when
Government and Opposition do agree, their unanimity
is wonderful! Viscount Materosa, you and your
friends must be in the Gallery. O dammy, you must!

Materosa

Sir, we are already pledged to be there.

Prince of Wales

And hark ye, Senor Viscount. You will then learn
what a mighty fine thing a debate in the English
Parliament is! No Continental humbug there. Not
but that the Court has a trouble to keep ’em in their
places sometimes ; and I would it had been one in the
Lords instead. However, Sheridan says he has been
learning his speech these two days, and has hunted his
father’s dictionary through for some stunning long
words.—Now, Maria (to Mrs. Fitzherbert), I am going
home.

Lady Salisbury

At last, then, England will take her place in the
forefront of this mortal struggle, and in pure dis¬
interestedness fight with all her strength for the
European deliverance. God defend the right!

The Prince of Wales leaves, and the other guests begin to depart.

Semichorus I of the Years (aerial music)

Leave this glib throng to its conjecturing ,

And let four burdened weeks uncover what they bring !

Semichorus II

The said Debate , to wit; its close in deeds;

Till England stands enlisted for the Patriots' needs .

245

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Semichorus I

And transports in the docks gulp down their freight
Of buckled fighting-flesh, and j gale-bound, watch and
wait.

Semichorus II

Till gracious zephyrs shoulder on their sails
To where the brine of Biscay moans its tragic tales.

Chorus

Bear we, too, south, as we were swallow-vanned,

And mark the game now played there by the Master-
hand !

The reception-chamber is shut over by the night without, and
the point of view rapidly recedes south, London and its streets and
lights diminishing till they are lost in the distance, and its noises
being succeeded by the babble of the Channel and Biscay waves.

SCENE IV

MADRID AND ITS ENVIRONS

The view is from the housetops of the city on a dusty evening in
this July, following a day of suffocating heat. The sunburnt roofs,
warm ochreous walls, and blue shadows of the capital, wear their
usual aspect except for a few feeble attempts at decoration.

DUMB SHOW

Gazers gather in the central streets, and particularly in the Puerta
del Sol. They show curiosity, but no enthusiasm. Patrols of
French soldiery move up and down in front of the people, and seem
to awe them into quietude.

There is a discharge of artillery in the outskirts, and the church
bells begin ringing; but the peals dwindle away to a melancholy
jangle, and then to silence. Simultaneously, on the northern horizon
of the arid, unenclosed, and treeless plain swept by the eye around

246

SCENE V

PART SECOND

the city, a cloud of dust arises, and a Royal procession is seen
nearing. It means the new king, Joseph Bonaparte.

He comes on, escorted by a clanking guard of four thousand
Italian troops, and the brilliant royal carriage is followed by a
hundred coaches bearing his suite. As the procession enters the
city many houses reveal themselves to be closed, many citizens leave
the route and walk elsewhere, while many of those who remain turn
their backs upon the spectacle.

King Joseph proceeds thus through the Plaza Oriente to the
granite-walled Royal Palace, where he alights and is received by
some of the nobility, the French generals who are in occupation
there, and some clergy. Heralds emerge from the Palace, and
hasten to divers points in the city, where trumpets are blown and
the Proclamation of Joseph as King of Spain is read in a loud
voice. It is received in silence.

The sun sets, and the curtain falls.

SCENE V

THE OPEN SEA BETWEEN THE ENGLISH COASTS
AND THE SPANISH PENINSULA

From high aloft, in the same July weather, and facing east, the
vision swoops over the ocean and its coast-lines, from Cork Harbour
on the extreme left, to Mondego Bay, Portugal, on the extreme nght.
Land’s End and the Scilly Isles, Ushant and Cape Fimsterre, axe
projecting features along the middle distance of the picture, and the
English Channel recedes endwise as a tapering avenue near the
/ centre.

DUMB SHOW

Four groups of moth-like transport and war ships are discovered
silently skimming this wide liquid plain. The first group, to the nght,
is iust vanishing behind Cape Mondego to enter Mondego Bay; the
second, in the midst, has come out from Plymouth Sound, and is pre¬
paring to stand down Channel; the third is clearing St. Helen s point
for the same course; and the fourth, much further up Channel, is
obviously to follow on considerably in the rear of the two preceding.
A south-east wind is blowing strong, and, according to the part of
their course reached, they either sail direct with the wind on their
larboard quarter, or labour forward by tacking m zigzags.

247

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Spirit of the Pities

What are these fleets that cross the sea
From British ports and bays
To coasts that glister southwardly
Behind the dog-day haze ?

Rumours (chanting)

Semichorus I

They are the shipped battalions sent
To bar the bold Belligerent

Who stalks the Dancers' Land.
Within these hulls, like sheep a-pen ,

Are packed in thousands fighting-men
And colonels in command.

Semichorus II

The fleet that leans each aery fin
Far south, where Mondego mouths in,
Bears Wellesley and his aides therein.
And Hill, and Crauford too ;

With Torrens, Ferguson, and Fane,
And majors, captains, clerks, in train,
And those grim needs that appertain —
The surgeons—not a few /

To them add near twelve thousand souls
In linesmen that the list enrolls,

Borne onward by those sheeted poles
As war’s red retinue /

Semichorus I

The fleet that clears St. Helen!s shore
Holds Burrard, Hope, ill-omened Moore,
Clinton and Paget; while
The transports that pertain to those
Count six-score sail, whose planks enclose
Ten thousand rank and file.

248

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Semichorus II

The third-sent ships , from Plymouth Sound\
With A eland, Austral her, impound
So?ils to six thousand strong.

While 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 , more, of inventories and names !

Many will fail; many cam doubtful fames.

Await ike fruitage of their acts and aims.

DUMB SHOW (continuing)

In the spacious scene visible the far-separated groups of trans¬
ports, 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 he 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 awning.

SCENE VI

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 Napoleon and some ladies and
officers of the Court playing Catch-me-if-you-can by torchlight on the

249

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

lawn. The moving torches throw bizarre lights and shadows into
the apartment, where only a remote candle or two are burning.

Enter Josephine and Napol£on together, somewhat out of
breath. With careless suppleness she slides down on a couch and
fans herself. Now that the candle-rays reach her they show her
mellow complexion, her velvety eyes with long lashes, mouth with
pointed corners and excessive mobility beneath its duvet, and curls
of dark hair pressed down upon the temples by a gold band.

The Emperor drops into a seat near her, and they remain in
silence till he jumps up, knocks over some nicknacks with his elbow,
and begins walking about the boudoir.

Napoleon (with sudden gloom)

These mindless games are very well, my friend ;

But ours to-night marks, not improbably.

The last we play together.

Josephine (starting)

Can you say it!

Why raise that ghastly nightmare on me now,

When, for a moment, my poor brain had dreams
Denied it all the earlier anxious day ?

Napoleon

Things that verge nigh, my simple Josephine,

Are not shoved off by wilful winking at.

Better quiz evils with too strained an eye
Than have them leap from disregarded lairs.

Josephine

Maybe ’tis true, and you shall have it so!—

Yet all joy is but sorrow waived awhile.

Napoleon

Ha, ha! Thats like you. Well, each day by day
I get sour news. Each hour since we returned
From this queer Spanish business at Bayonne,

I have had nothing else ; and hence my brooding.

250

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Josephine

But all went well throughout our touring time ?

Napol£on

Not so—behind the scenes. Our arms at Baylen
Have been smirched badly. Twenty thousand
shamed

All through Dupont’s ill-luck! The selfsame day
My brother Joseph’s progress to Madrid
Was glorious as a sodden rocket’s fizz!

Since when his letters creak with querulousness.
c< - Napoldon el chico” ’tis they call him—

“ Napoleon the Little,” so he says.

Then notice Austria. Much looks louring there,

And her sly new regard for England grows.

The English, next, have shipped an army down
To Mondego, under one Wellesley,

A man from India, and his march is south
To Lisbon, by Vimiero. On he’ll go
And do the devil’s mischief ere he is met
By unaware Junot, and chevyed back
To English fogs and fumes !

Josephine

My dearest one,

You have mused on worse reports with better grace
Full many and many a time. Ah—there is more! . . .
I know ; I know!

Napoleon (kicking away a stool)

There is, of course ; that worm
Time ever keeps in hand for gnawing me !—

The question of my dynasty—which bites
Closer and closer as the years wheel on.

251

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

Josephine

Of course it’s that! For nothing else could hang
My lord on tenterhooks through nights and days ;—
Or rather, not the question, but the tongues
That keep the question stirring. Nought recked you
Of throne-succession or dynastic lines
When gloriously engaged in Italy!

I was your fairy then : they labelled me
Your Lady of Victories ; and much I joyed,

Till dangerous ones drew near and daily sowed
These choking tares within your fecund brain,—
Making me tremble if a panel crack,

Or mouse but cheep, or silent leaf sail down,

And murdering my melodious hours with dreads
That my late happiness, and my late hope,

Will oversoon be knelled !

Napoleon (genially nearing her)

But years have passed since first we talked of it;

And now, with loss of dear Hortense’s son
Who won me as my own, it looms forth more.

And selfish ’tis in my good Josephine
To blind her vision to the weal of France,

And this great Empire’s solidarity.

The grandeur of your sacrifice would gild
Your life’s whole shape.

J OSfiPHINE

Were I as coarse a wife
As I am limned in English caricature—

(Those cruel effigies they draw of me! )—

You could not speak more aridly.

Napoleon

v . Nay, nay!

Y ou know, my comrade, how I love you still.

252

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Were there a long-notorious dislike
Betwixt us, reason might be in your dreads.

But all earth knows our conjugality.

There’s not a bourgeois couple in the land
Who, should dire duty rule their severance,

Could part with scanter scandal than could we.

Joseph ink (pouting)

Nevertheless there’s one.

Napoleon

A scandal ? What ?
Josephine

Madame Walewska! How could you pretend
When, after Jena, I’d have come to you,

“ The weather was so wild, the roads so rough,

That no one of my sex and delicate nerve
Could hope to face the dangers andTatigues.”

Yes—so you wrote me, dear. They hurt not her!

Napoleon (blandly)

She was a week’s adventure—not worth words!

I say ’tis France.—I have held out for years
Against the constant pressure brought on me
To null this sterile marriage.

Josephine (bursting into sobs)

Me you blame!

But how know you that you are not the culprit ?

Napoleon

1 have reason so to know—if I must say.

The Polish lady you have chosen to name
Has proved the fault not mine.

(Josephine sobs more violently.)
253

ACT II

THE DYNASTS

Don’t cry, my cherished ;

It is not really amiable of you,

Or prudent, my good little Josephine,

With so much in the balance.

Josephine

How—know you—

What may not happen! Vv r aiVa little longer!

Napoleon (playfully pinching her arm)

O come, now, my adored! Haven’t I already!
Nature’s a dial whose shade no hand puts back,

Trick as we may! My friend, you are forty-three

This very year in the world—

(Josephine breaks out sobbing again.)

And vain it is

To think of waiting longer ; pitiful

To dream of coaxing shy fecundity

To an unlikely freak by physicking

With superstitious drugs and quackeries

That work you harm, not good. The fact being so,

I have looked it squarely down—against my heart!

Solicitations voiced repeatedly

At length have shown the soundness of their shape.
And left me no denial. You, at times,

My dear one, have been used to handle it.

My brother Joseph, years back, frankly gave
His honest view that something should be done ;
And he, you well may know, shows no ill tinct
In his regard of you.

Josephine
And what princess ?

Napoleon

For wiving with? No thought was given to that,
She shapes as vaguely as the Veiled—

254

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Josephine

No, no;

It’s Alexander’s sister, I’m full sure!—

By why this craze for home-made manikins

And lineage mere of flesh ? You have said yourself

It mattered not. Great Caesar, you declared,

Sank sonless to his rest; was greater deemed
Even for the isolation. Frederick
Saw, too, no heir. It is the fate of such,

Often, to be denied the common hope

As fine for fulness in the rarer gifts

That Nature yields them. O my husband long,

Will you not purge your soul to value best
That high heredity from brain to brain
Which supersedes mere sequences of blood,

That often vary more from sire to son
Than between furthest strangers! . . .

Napoleon’s offspring in his like must lie ;

The second of his line be he who shows
Napoleon’s soul in later bodiment,

The household father happening as he may!

Napoleon (smilingly wiping her eyes)

Little guessed I my dear would prove her rammed
With such a charge of apt philosophy
When tutoring me gay arts in earlier times!

She who at home coquetted through the years
In which I vainly penned her wishful words
To come and comfort me in Italy,

Might, faith, have urged it then effectually!

But never would you stir from Paris joys,

(With some bitterness).

And so, when arguments like this could move me,

I heard them not; and get them only now
When their weight dully falls. But I have said
’Tis not for me, but France—Good-bye an hour.

(Kissing her.)

255

THE DYNASTS

ACT II

I must dictate some letters. This new move
Of England on Madrid may mean some trouble.
Come, dwell not gloomily on this cold need
Of waiving private joy for policy.

We are but thistle-globes on Heaven’s high gales,
And whither blown, or when, or how, or why,

Can choose us not at all! . . .

I’ll come to you anon, dear : staunch Rous tan
Will light me in.

[Exit Napoleon.

The scene shuts in shadow.

SCENE VII

VIMIERO

A village among the hills of Portugal, about fifty miles north of
Lisbon. Around it are disclosed, as ten on Sunday morning strikes,
a blue army of fourteen thousand men in isolated columns, and a
red army of eighteen thousand in line formation, drawn up in order
of battle. The blue army is a French one under Junot; the other
an English one under Sir Arthur Wellesley —portion of that
recently landed.

The August sun glares on the shaven faces, white gaiters, and
white cross-belts of the English, who are to fight for their lives while
sweating under a quarter-hundredweight in knapsack and pouches,
and with firelocks heavy as putlogs. They occupy a group of heights,
but their position is one of great danger, the land abruptly terminat¬
ing two miles behind their backs in lofty cliffs overhanging the
Atlantic. The French occupy the valleys in the English front; and
this distinction between the two forces strikes the eye—the red army
is accompanied by scarce any cavalry, while the blue is strong in
that arm.

DUMB SHOW

The battle is begun with alternate moves that match each other
like those of a chess opening. Junot makes an oblique attack by
moving a division to his right; Wellesley moves several brigades
to his left to balance it.

A column of six thousand French then climbs the hill against
the English centre, and drives in those who are planted there. The

256

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

English artillery checks its adversaries, and the infantry recover and
charge the baffled French down the slopes. Meanwhile the latter’s
cavalry and artillery are attacking the village itself, and, rushing on a
few squadrons of English dragoons stationed there, cut them to
pieces. A dust is raised by this ado, and moans of men and shrieks
of horses are heard. Close by the carnage the little Maceira stream
continues to trickle unconcernedly to the sea.

On the English left five thousand French infantry, having
ascended to the ridge and maintained a stinging musket-fire as
sharply returned, are driven down by the bayonets of six English
regiments. Thereafter a brigade of the French, the northernmost,
finding that the English have pursued to the bottom and are resting
after the effort, surprise them and bayonet them back to their original
summit. The see-saw is continued by the recovery of the English,
who again drive their assailants down.

The French army pauses stultified, till, the columns uniting, they
fail back towards the hills behind them. The English, seeing that
their chance has come, are about to pursue and settle the fortunes of
the day. But a messenger dispatched from a distant group is marked
riding up to the large-nosed man with a telescope and an Indian
sword who, his staff around him, has been directing the English
movements. He seems astonished at the message, appears to resent
it, and pauses with a gloomy look. But he sends countermands to
his generals, and the pursuit ends abortively.

The French retreat without further molestation by a circuitous
march into the great road to Torres Vedras by which they came,
leaving nearly two thousand dead and wounded on the slopes they
have quitted.

Dumb Show ends and the curtain draws.

257

ACT THIRD

SCENE I

SPAIN. A ROAD NEAR ASTORGA

The eye of the spectator rakes the road from the interior of a
cellar which opens upon it, and forms the basement of a deserted
house, the roof, doors, and shutters of which have been pulled down
and burnt for bivouac fires. The season is the beginning of January,
and the country is covered with a sticky snow. The road itself is
intermittently encumbered with heavy traffic, the surface being
churned to a yellow mud that lies half knee-deep, and at the numerous
holes in the track forming still deeper quagmires.

In the gloom of the cellar are heaps of damp straw, in which
ragged figures are lying half-buried, many of the men in the uniform
of English line-regiments, and the women and children in clouts of
all descriptions, some being nearly naked. At the back of the cellar
is revealed, through a burst door, an inner vault, where are discernible
some wooden-hooped wine-casks; in one sticks a gimlet, and the
broaching-cork of another has been driven in. The wine runs into
pitchers, washing-basins, shards, chamber-vessels, and other extem¬
porized receptacles. Most of the inmates are drunk; some to
insensibility.

So far as the characters are doing anything they are contemplating
the almost incessant traffic outside, passing in one direction. It
includes a medley of stragglers from the Marquis of Romana’s
Spanish forces and the retreating English army under Sir John
Moore —to which the concealed deserters belong.

First Deserter

Now he's one of the Eighty-first, and I'd gladly let
that poor blade know that we’ve all that mail can wish
for here—good wine and buxom women. But if I do,
we shan't have room for ourselves—hey ?

258

SCENTS I

PART SECOND

He signifies a man limping past with neither firelock nor knap¬
sack. Where the discarded knapsack has rubbed for weeks against
his shoulder-blades the jacket and shirt are fretted away, leaving his
skin exposed.

Second Deserter (drowsily)

He may be the Eighty-firsht, or th’ Eighty-second ;
but what I say is, without fear of contradiction, I wish
to the Lord I was back in old Bristol again. I’d sooner
have a nipperkin of our own real “ Bristol milk ” than
a mash-tub full of this barbarian wine !

Third Deserter

’Tis like thee to be ungrateful, after putting away
such a skinful on’t. I am as much Bristol as thee, but
would as soon be here as there. There ain’t near such
willing women, that are strict respectable too, there as
hereabout, and no open cellars.—As there’s many a
slip in this country I’ll have the rest of my allowance
now.

He crawls on his elbows to one of the barrels, and turning on his
back lets the wine run down his throat.

Fourth Deserter (to a fifth, who is snoring)

Don’t treat us to such a snoaching there, mate.
Here’s some more coming, and they’ll sight us if we
don’t mind!

Enter without a straggling flock of military objects, some with
fragments of shoes on, others bare-footed, many of the latter’s feet
bleeding. The arms and waists of some are clutched by women as
tattered and bare-footed as themselves. They pass on.

The Retreat continues. More of Romana’s Spanish limp along
in disorder; then enters a miscellaneous group of English cavalry
soldiers, some on foot, some mounted, the rearmost of the latter
bestriding a shoeless foundered creature whose neck is vertebrae and
mane only. While passing it falls from exhaustion; the trooper
extricates himself and pistols the animal through the head.. He
and the rest pass on.

259

THE DYNASTS

ACT in

First Deserter (a new plashing of feet being heard)

Here’s something more in order, or I am much
mistaken. (He cranes out.) Yes, a sergeant of the
Forty-third, and what’s left of their second battalion.
And, by God, not far behind I see shining helmets.
’Tis a whole squadron of French dragoons! •

Enter the sergeant. He has a racking cough, but endeavours,
by stiffening himself up, to hide how it is wasting away his life. He
halts, and looks back, till the remains of the Forty-third are abreast,
to the number of some three hundred, about half of whom are
crippled invalids, the other half being presentable and armed soldiery.

Sergeant

Now show yer nerve, and be men. If you die
to-day you won’t have to die to-morrow. Fall in!
(The miscellany falls in.) All invalids and men without
arms march ahead as well as they can. Quick—
maw-w-w-ch ! (Exeunt invalids, etc.) Now! Tention!
Shoulder-r-r-r—fawlocks ! (Order obeyed.)

The sergeant hastily forms these into platoons, who prime and
load, and seem preternaturally changed from what they were into
alert soldiers.

Enter French dragoons at the left-back of the scene. The rear
platoon of the Forty-third turns, fires, and proceeds. The next
platoon covering them does the same. This is repeated several times,
staggering the pursuers. Exeunt, French dragoons, giving up the
pursuit. The coughing sergeant and the remnant of the Forty-third
march on.

Fourth Deserter (to a woman lying beside him)

What d’ye think o’ that, my honey? It fairly
makes me a man again. Come, wake up! We must
be getting along somehow. (He regards the woman more
closely.) Why—my little chick? Look here, friends.
(They look, and the woman is found to be dead.) If I didn’t
think that her poor knees felt cold! . . . And only an
hour ago I swore I’d marry her!

260

SCENE I

PART SECOND

They remain silent. The Retreat continues in the snow without,
now in the form of a file of ox-carts, followed by a mixed rabble of
English and Spanish, and mules and muleteers hired by English
officers to carry their baggage. The muleteers, looking about and
seeing that the French dragoons have been there, cut the bands
which hold on the heavy packs, and scamper off with their mules.

A Voice (behind)

The Commander-in-Chief is determined to maintain
discipline, and they must suffer. No more pillaging
here. It is the worst case of brutality and plunder
that we have had in this wretched time!

Enter an English captain of hussars, a lieutenant, a guard of
about a dozen, and three men as prisoners.

Captain

If they choose to draw lots, only one need be made
an example of. But they must be quick about it. The
advance-guard of the enemy is not far behind.

The three prisoners appear to draw lots, and the one on whom
the lot falls is blindfolded. Exeunt the hussars behind a wall, with
carbines. A volley is heard and something falls. The wretches in
the cellar shudder.

Fourth Deserter

’Tis the same for us but for this heap of straw.
Ah—my doxy is the only one of us who is safe and
soured! (He kisses the dead woman.)

Retreat continues. A train of six-horse baggage-waggons lumbers
past, a mounted sergeant alongside. Among the baggage lie wounded
soldiers and sick women.

Sergeant of the Waggon-Train

If so be they are dead, ye may as well drop 'em
over the tail-board. Tis no use straining the horses
unnecessary.

261

THE DYNASTS

ACT HI

Waggons halt. Two of the wounded who have just died are
taken out, laid down by the roadside, and some muddy snow scraped
over them. Exeunt waggons and waggon-sergeant.

An interval. More English troops pass on horses, mostly shoeless
and foundered.

Enter Sir John Moore and officers. Moore appears in the
pale evening light as a handsome man, far on in the forties, the
orbits of his dark eyes showing marks of deep anxiety. He is talk¬
ing to some of his staff with vehement emphasis and gesture. They
cross the scene and go on out of sight, and the squashing of their
horses’ hoofs in the snowy mud dies away.

Fifth Deserter (incoherently in his sleep)

Poise fawlocks—open pans—right hands to pouch
—handle ca’tridge—bring it—quick motion—bite top
well off—prime—shut pans—cast about—load-

First Deserter (throwing.a shoe at the sleeper)

Shut up that! D’ye think you are a ’cruity in the
awkward squad still ?

Second Deserter

I don’t know what he thinks, but I know what I
feel! Would that I were at home in England again,
where there’s old-fashioned tipple, and a proper God
A’mighty instead of this eternal ’Ooman and baby •—
ay, at home a-leaning against old Bristol Bridge, and
no questions asked, and the winter sun slanting friendly
over Baldwin Street as ’a used to do! ’Tis my very
belief, though I have lost all sure reckoning, that if I
wer there, and in good health, ’twould be New Year’s
day about now. What it is over here I don’t know.
Ay, to-night we should be a-setting in the tap of the
“ Adam and Eve ”—lifting up the tune of “ The Light
o’ the Moon.” ’Twer a romantical thing enough. ’A
used to go som’at like this (he sings in a nasal tone) •—

“01 thought it had been day,

And I stole from her away;

But it proved to be the light o’ the moon! ”

262

vckv* I PART SECOND

Retreat continues, with infantry in good order. Hearing the
singing, one of the officers looks around, and detaching a patrol
enters the ruined house with the file of men, the body of soldiers
marching^ on. The inmates of the cellar bury themselves in the
straw. The officer peers about, and seeing no one prods the straw
with his sword.

Voices (under the straw)

Oh! Hell!
Quarter!

Stop it! We'll come out! Mercy!

[The lurkers are uncovered.

Officer

If you are well enough to sing bawdy songs, you
are well enough to march. So out of it—or you’ll be
shot, here and now!

Several

You may shoot us, captain, or the French may
shoot us, or the devil may take us; we don’t care
which! Only we can’t stir. Pity the women, captain,
but do what you will with us!

The searchers mss over the wounded, and stir out those capable
of marching, both men and women, so far as they discover them.
They are pricked on by the patrol. Exeunt patrol and deserters in
its charge.

Those who remain look stolidly at the highway. The English
Rear-guard of cavalry crosses the scene and passes out. An interval.
It grows dusk.

Spirit Ironic

Quaint poesy, and real romance of war !

Spirit of tiie Pities

Mock on. Shade, if thou wilt! But others find

Poesy ever lurk where pit-pats poor mankind !

The scene is cloaked in darkness.

263

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

SCENE II

THE SAME

It is nearly midnight The fugitives who remain in the cellar
having slept off the effects of the wine, are awakened by a new
tramping of cavalry, which becomes more and more persistent. It
is the French, who now fill the road. The advance-guard having
passed by, Delaborde’s division, Lorge’s division, Merle’s division,
and others, successively cross the gloom.

Presently come the outlines of the Imperial Guard, and then,
with a start, those in hiding realize their situation, and are wide
awake. Napoleon enters with his staff. He has just been over¬
taken by a courier, and orders those round him to halt.

Napoleon

Let there a fire be lit: ay, here and now.

The lines within these letters brook no pause

In mastering their purport.

Some of the French approach the ruined house and, appro¬
priating what wood is. still left there, heap it by the roadside
and set it alight A mixed rain and snow falls, and the sputtering
flames throw a glare all round.

bEeoND Deserter (under his voice)

W e T be shot corpses! Ay, faith, we be! Why
didnt I stick to England, and true doxology, and
leave foreign doxies and their wine alone! . . . Mate,
can ye squeeze another shardful from the cask there,
for I feel my time is come! . . . O that I had but the
barrel of that firelock I throwed away, and that wasted
powder to prime and load! This bullet I chaw to
squench my hunger would do the rest! . . . Yes I
could pick him off now! *

264

SCENE II

PART SECOND

First Deserter

You lie low with your picking off, or he may pick
off you! Thank God the babies are gone. Maybe
we shan’t be noticed, if we’ve but the courage to do
nothing, and keep hid.

Napoleon dismounts, approaches the fire, and looks around.

Napoleon

Another of their dead horses here, I see.

Officer

Yes, sire. We have counted eighteen hundred odd
From Benavente hither, pistoled thus.

Some we’d to finish for them : headlong haste
Spared them no time for mercy to their brutes.
One-half their cavalry now tramps afoot.

Napoleon

And what’s the tale of waggons we’ve picked up ?

Officer

Spanish and all abandoned, some four hundred ;

Of magazines and firelocks, full ten load ;

And stragglers and their girls a numerous crew

Napoleon

Ay, devil—plenty those! Licentious ones
These English, as all canting peoples are.—

And prisoners ?

Officer

Seven hundred English, sire ;
Spaniards five thousand more.

265

THE DYNASTS

ACT lit

Napoleon

’Tis not amiss.

To keep the new year up they run away!

(He soliloquizes as he begins tearing open the dispatches.)

Nor Pitt nor Fox displayed such blundering
As glares in this campaign! It is, indeed,

Enlarging Folly to Foolhardiness
To combat France by land! But how expect
Aught that can claim the name of government
From Canning, Castlereagh, and Perceval,

Caballers all—poor sorry politicians—

To whom has fallen the luck of reaping in
The harvestings of Pitt’s bold husbandry.

He unfolds a dispatch, and looks for something to sit on. A
cloak is thrown over a log, and he settles to reading by the firelight.
The others stand round. The light, crossed by the snow-flakes,
flickers on his unhealthy face and stoutening figure. He sinks into
the rigidity of profound thought, till his features lour.

So this is their reply! They have done with me !
Britain declines negotiating further—

Flouts France and Russia indiscriminately.

“ Since one dethrones and keeps as prisoners
The most legitimate kings ”—that means myself—

“ The other suffers their unworthy treatment
For sordid interests ”—that’s for Alexander! . . .
And what is Georgy made to say besides ?—

“ Pacific overtures to us are wiles

Woven to unnerve the generous nations round

Lately escaped the galling yoke of France,

Or waiting so to do. Such, then, being seen,

These tentatives must be regarded now
As finally forgone ; and crimson war
Be faced to its fell worst, unflinchingly.”

—The devil take their lecture! What am I,

That England should return such insolence ?

He jumps up, furious, and walks to and fro beside the fire. By
and by cooling he sits down again.

266

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Now as to hostile signs in Austria. . . .

(He breaks another seal and reads)

Ah,—swords to cross with her some day in spring!
Thinking me cornered over here in Spain
She speaks without disguise, the covert pact
’Twixt her and England owning now quite frankly,
Careless how works its knowledge upon me.

She, England, Germany: well—I can front them!
That there is no sufficient force of French
Between the Elbe and Rhine to prostrate her,

Let new and terrible experience

Soon disillude her of! Yea ; she may arm :

The opportunity she late let slip
Will not subserve her now !

Spirit of the Pities

Has he no heart-hints that this Austrian court ,
Whereon his mood takes mould so masterful,

Is rearing naively in its nursery-room
A future wife for him ?

Spirit of the Years

Thou dost but guess it.
And how should his heart know ?

Napoleon (opening and reading another dispatch)

N ow eastward. Ohe!—
The Orient likewise looms full sombrely. . . .

The Turk declines pacifically to yield
What I have promised Alexander. Ah! . . .

As for Constantinople being his prize

I’ll see him frozen first. His flight’s too high!

And showing that I think so makes him cool.

^ (Rises.)

Is Soult the Duke Dalmatia yet at hand ?

267

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Officer

He has arrived along the Leon road
Just now, your Majesty; and only waits
The close of your perusals.

Enter Soult, who is greeted by Napoleon.

First Deserter

Good Lord deliver us from all great men, and take
me back again to humble life! That’s Marshal Soult
the Duke of Dalmatia!

Second Deserter

The Duke of Damnation for our poor rear, by the
look on’t!

First Deserter

Yes—he’ll make ’em rub their poor rears before he
has done with ’em! But we must overtake ’em to¬
morrow by a cross-cut, please God!

Napoleon (pointing to the dispatches)

Here s matter enough for me, Duke, and to spare.
The ominous contents are like the threats
The ancient prophets dealt rebellious Judah!
Austria we soon shall have upon our hands,

And England still is fierce for fighting on,—
Strange humour in a concord-loving land!

So now I must to Paris straight away—

At least, to Valladolid ; so as to stand
More apt for couriers than I do out here
In this far western corner, and to mark
The veerings of these new developments,

And blow a counter-breeze. . .

Then, too, there’s Lannes, still
Of sullen Zaragoza as ’twere hell.

sweating at the siege

268

scene n PART SECOND

Him I must further counsel how to close

His twice too tedious battery.—You, then, Soult—

Ney is not yet, I gather, quite come up?

Soult

He’s near, sire, on the Benavente road;

But some hours to the rear I reckon, still

Napoleon

Him I’ll direct to come to your support
In this pursuit and harassment of Moore
Wherein you take my place. You’ll follow up
And chase the flying English to the sea.

Bear hard on them, the bayonet at their loins.

With Merle’s and Mermet’s corps just gone ahead.

And Delaborde’s, and Heudelet’s here at hand.

While Lorge’s and Lahoussaye’s picked dragoons
Will follow, and Franceschi’s cavalry.

To Ney I am writing that, in case of need,

He will support, with Marchand and Mathieu.—

Your total thus of seventy thousand odd,

Ten thousand horse, and cannon to five score,

Should near annihilate this British force,

And carve a triumph large in history.

(He bends over the fire and makes some notes rapidly.)

I move into Astorga; then turn back,

(Though only in my person do I turn)

And leave to you the destinies of Spain.

Spirit ok the Years

More turning may be here than he designs,
hi this small, sudden, swift turn backward, he
Suggests one turning from his apogee !

The characters disperse, the fire sinks, and snowflakes and
darkness blot out all.

269

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

SCENE III

BEFORE CORUNA

The town, harbour, and hills at the back are viewed from an
aerial point to the north, over the lighthouse known as the Tower of
Hercules, rising at the extremity of the tongue of land on which La
Coruna stands, the open ocean being in the spectator’s rear.

In the foreground the most prominent feature is the walled old
town, with its white towers and houses, shaping itself aloft over the
harbour. The new town, and its painted fronts, show bright below,
even on this cloudy winter afternoon. Further off, behind the
harbour—now crowded with British transports of all sizes—is a
series of low broken hills, intersected by hedges and stone walls.

A mile behind these low inner hills is beheld a rocky chain of
outer and loftier heights that completely command the former.
Nothing behind them is seen but grey sky.

DUMB SHOW

On the inner hills aforesaid the little English army—a pathetic
fourteen thousand of foot only—is just deploying into line: Hope’s
division on the left, Baird’s to the right. Paget with the reserve is
in the hollow to the left behind them; and Fraser’s division still
further back shapes out on a slight rise to the right.

This harassed force now appears as if composed of quite other
than the men observed in the Retreat insubordinately straggling
along like vagabonds. Yet they are the same men, suddenly
stiffened and grown amenable to discipline by the satisfaction of
standing to the enemy at last. They resemble a double palisade of
red stakes, the only gaps being those that the melancholy necessity
of scant numbers entails here and there. ~

Over the heads of these red men is beheld on the outer hills the
twenty thousand French that have been pushed along the road at
the heels of the English by Soult. They have an ominous
superiority, both in position and in their abundance of cavalry and

f tl i! ery ’ T r , the s i® nder Iines of English foot. The left of this
background, facing Hope, is made up of Delaeorde’s and Merle’s
divisions, while in a deadly arc round Baird, from whom they are
f?l ed c 0nly , by th f Y^age of Elvina, are placed Mermet’s division,
hith^ nn Y nf S ^S 001 ^’ Franceschi’s cavalry, and,

ffiS? £& ° f <**» 6™* suns r £

270

SCENE III

PART SECOND

It is now getting on for two o’clock, and a stir of activity has
lately been noticed along the French front Three columns are
discerned descending from their position, the first towards the
division of Sir David Baird, the weakest point in the English line,
the next towards the centre, the third towards the left. A heavy
cannonade from the battery supports this advance.

The clash ensues, the English being swept down in swathes by
the enemy’s artillery. The opponents meet face to face at the
village in the valley between them, and the fight there grows furious.

Sir John Moore is seen galloping to the front under the gloomy

sky.

Spirit of the Pities

I seem to vision in San Carlos 1 garden ,
That rises salient in the upper town ,

His name , and date y and doing , set within
A filmy outline like a monument ,

Which yet is but the insubstantial air\

Spirit of the Years

Read visions as conjectures; not as more .

When Moore arrives at the front, Fraser and Paget move to
the right, where the English are most sorely pressed. A grape-shot
strikes off Baird’s arm. There is a little confusion, and he is borne
to the rear; while Major Napier disappears, a prisoner.

Intelligence of these misfortunes is brought to Sir John Moore.
He goes further forward, and precedes in person the Forty-second
regiment and a battalion of the Guards who, with fixed bayonets,
bear the enemy back, Moore’s gestures in cheering them being
notably energetic. Pursuers, pursued, and Sir John himself pass
out of sight behind the hill. Dumb Show ends.

The point of vision descends to the immediate rear of the
English position. The early January evening has begun to spread
its shades, and shouts of dismay are heard from behind the hill over
which Moore and the advancing lines have vanished.

Straggling soldiers cross in the gloom.

First Straggle^,

He’s struck by a cannon-ball, that I know ; but he’s
not killed, that I pray God A’mighty.

271

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Second Straggler

Better he were. His shoulder is knocked to a bag
of splinters. As Sir David was wounded, Sir John
was anxious that the right should not give way, and
went forward to keep it firm.

First Straggler

He didn’t keepjjwc firm, howsomever.

Second Straggler
Nor you, for that matter.

First Straggler

Well, ’twas a serious place for a man with no
priming-horn, and a character to lose, so I judged it
best to fall to the rear by lying down. A man can’t
fight by the regulations without his priming-horn, and
I am none of your slovenly anyhow fighters.

Second Straggler

’Nation, haying dropped my flint-pouch, I was the
same. If you’d had your priming-horn, and I my
flints, mind ye, we should have been there now ? Then,
forty-whory, that we are not is the fault o’ Government
for not supplying new ones from the reserve!

First Straggler
What did he say as he led us on ?

Second Straggler

“ Forty-second, remember Egypt! ” I heard it with
own ears. Yes, that was his strict testament.

272

scene nr

PART SECOND

First Straggler

“ Remember Egypt.” Ay, and I do, for I was
there ! . . . Upon my salvation, here’s for back again,
whether or no!

Second Straggler

But here. “ Forty-second, remember Egypt,” he
said in the very eye of that French battery playing
through us. And the next omen was that he was
struck off his horse, and fell on his back to the ground.
I remembered Egypt, and what had just happened too,
so thorough well that I remembered the way over this
wall!—Captain Hardinge, who was close to him, j um ped
off his horse, and he and one in the ranks lifted him,
and are now bringing him along.

First Straggler

Nevertheless, here’s for back again, come what will.
Remember Egypt! Hurrah !

[Exit First Straggler.

Second Straggler ponders, then suddenly follows First Enter
Colonel Anderson and others hastily.

An Officer

Now fetch a blanket. He must be carried in.

[Shouts heard.

Colonel Anderson

That means we are gaining ground! Had fate but
left

This last blow undecreed, the hour had shone
A star amid these girdling days of gloom!

[Exit.

Enter in the obscurity six soldiers of the Forty-second bearing
Sir John Moore on their joined hands. Captain Hardinge walks
beside and steadies him. He is temporarily laid down in the

273 T

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

shelter of a wall, his left shoulder being pounded away, the arm
dangling by a shred of flesh.

Enter Colonel Graham and Captain Woodford.
Graham

The wound is more than serious, Woodford, far.

Ride for a surgeon—one of those, perhaps,

Who tend Sir David Baird ? (Exit Captain Woodford.)
His blood throbs forth so fast, that I’ve dark fears
He’ll drain to death ere anything can be done!

Hardinge

I’ll try to staunch it—since no skill’s in call.

(He takes off his sash and endeavours to bind the wound with
it. Moore smiles and shakes his head.)

There’s not much checking it! The rent’s too gross.

A dozen lives could pass that thoroughfare !

Enter a soldier with a blanket. They lift Moore into it During
the operation the pommel of his sword, which he still wears, is
accidentally thrust into the wound.

I’ll loose the sword—it bruises you, Sir John.

[He begins to unbuckle it.

Moore

No. Let it be! One hurt more matters not.

I wish it to go off the field with me.

Hardinge

I like the sound of that. It augurs well
For your much-hoped recovery.

Moore (looking sadly at his wound)

. , Hardinge, no:

Nature is nonplussed there! My shoulder’s gone,

And this left side laid open to my lungs.

274

SCENE III

PART SECOND

There’s but a brief breath now for me, at most. . . .
Could you—move me along—that I may glimpse
Still how the battle’s going ?

Hardinge

Ay, Sir John—

A few yards higher up, where we can see.

He is borne in the blanket a little way onward, and lifted so that
he can view the valley and the action.

Moore (brightly)

They seem to be advancing. Yes, it is so!

Enter Sir John Hope.

Ah, Hope!—I am doing badly here enough ;

But they are doing rarely well out there.

(Presses Hope’s hand.)
Don’t leave! my speech may flag with this fierce pain,
But you can talk to me.—Are the French foiled?

Hope

My dear friend, they are borne back steadily.

Moore (his voice weakening)

I hope that England—will be satisfied—

I hope my native land—will do me justice! . . .

I shall be blamed for sending Craufurd off
Along the Orense road. But had I not,

Bonaparte would have headed us that way. . . .

Hope

O would that Soult had but accepted fight

By Lugo town! We should have crushed him there.

275

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Moore

Yes . . . yes.—But it has never been my lot
To owe much to good luck; nor was it then.

Good fortune has been mine, but, (bitterly) mostly so
By the exhaustion of all shapes of bad! . . .

Well, this does not become a dying man;

And others have been chastened more than I
By Him who holds us in His hollowed hand! . . .

I grieve for Zaragoza if, as said,

The siege goes sorely with her, which it must.

I heard when at Dahagun that late day
That she was holding out heroically.

But I must leave such now.—You’ll see my friends
As early as you can ? Tell them the whole ;

Say to my mother . . . (His voice fails.)

Hope, Hope, I .have so much to charge you with, _
But weakness clams my tongue! ... If I must die
Without a word with Stanhope, ask him, Hope,

To—name me to his sister. You may know
Of what there was between us ? . . .

Is Colonel Graham well, and all my aides ?

My will I have made—it is in Colborne’s charge
With other papers.

Hope

He’s now coming up.

Enter Major Colborne, principal aide-de-camp.

Moore

Are the French beaten, Colborne, or repulsed?
Alas! you see what they have done to me!

Colborne

I do, Sir John: I am more than sad thereat!
In brief time now the surgeon will be here.

The French retreat—pushed from Elvina far.

276

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Moore

That’s good! Is Paget anywhere about ?

COLBORNE

He’s at the front, Sir J ohn.

Moore

Remembrance to him!
Enter two surgeons.

Ah, doctors,—you can scarcely mend up me.—

And yet I feel so tough—I have feverish fears
My dying will waste a long and tedious while ;

But not too long, I hope!

Surgeons (after a hasty examination)

You must be borne

In to your lodgings instantly, Sir John.

Please strive to stand the motion—if you can ;

They will keep step, and bear you steadily.

Moore

Anything. . . . Surely fainter ebbs that fire ?

COLBORNE

Yes : we must be advancing everywhere :

Colbert their General, too, they have lost, I learn.

They lift him by stretching their sashes under the blanket, and
begin moving off. A light waggon enters.

Moore

Who’s in that waggon ?

2 77

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Hardinge

Colonel Wynch, Sir John.
He’s wounded, but he urges you to take it.

Moore

No. I will not. This suits. . . . Don’t come with me ;
There’s more for you to do out here as yet.

(Cheerful shouts.)

A-ha! Tis this way I have wished to die!

Exeunt slowly in the twilight Moore, bearers, surgeons, etc.,
towards Coruna.

The scene darkens.

SCENE IV

CORUfJA. NEAR THE RAMPARTS

It is just before dawn on the following morning, objects being
still indistinct The features of the elevated enclosure of San Carlos
can be recognized in dim outline, and also those of the Old Town
of Coruna around, though scarcely a lamp is shining. The
numerous transports in the harbour beneath have still their riding-
lights burning.

In a nook of the town walls a lantern glimmers. Some English
soldiers of the Ninth regiment are hastily digging a grave there with
extemporized tools.

A Voice (from the gloom some distance off)

“I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord :
he that believeth in me, though he were dead, vet
shall he live.”

The soldiers look up, and see entering at the further end of the
patch of.ground a slow procession. It advances by the light of
lanterns in the hands of some members of it. At moments the
fitful rays .fall upon bearers carrying a coffinless body rolled in a
blanket, with a military cloak roughly thrown over by way of pall.

278

SCENE IV

PART SECOND

It is brought towards the incomplete grave, and followed by Hope,
Graham, Anderson, Colborne, Hardinge, and several aides-de-
camp, a chaplain preceding.

First Soldier

They are here, almost as quickly as ourselves.

There is no time to dig much deeper now:

Level a bottom just as far’s we’ve got.

He’ll couch as calmly in this scrabbled hole
As in a royal vault!

Second Soldier

Would it had been a foot deeper, here among
foreigners, with strange manures manufactured out of
no one knows what! Surely we can give him another
six inches ?

First Soldier

There is no time. Just make the bottom true.

The meagre procession approaches the spot, and waits while the
half-dug grave is roughly finished by the men of the Ninth. They
step out of it, and another of them holds a lantern to the chaplain’s
book. The winter day slowly dawns.

Chaplain

“ Man that is born of a woman hath but a short
time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and
is cut down, like a flower ; he fleeth as it were a shadow,
and never continueth in one stay.”

A gun is fired from the French battery not far'off; then another.
The ships in the harbour take in their riding-lights.

Colborne (in a low voice)

I knew that dawn would see them open fire.

Hope

We must perforce make swift use of our time.

Would we had closed our too sad office sooner!

279

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

As the body is lowered another discharge echoes. They glance
gloomily at the heights where the French are ranged, and then into
the grave.

Chaplain

“We therefore commit his body to the ground.
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

(Another gun.)

A spent ball falls not far off. They put out their lanterns.
Continued firing, some shot splashing into the harbour below them.

Hope

In mercy to the living, who are thrust
Upon our care for their deliverance,

And run much hazard till they are embarked,

We must abridge these duties to the dead,

Who will not mind be they abridged or no.

Hardinge

And could he mind, would be the man to bid it. . . .

Hope

We shall do well, then, curtly to conclude
These mutilated prayers—our hurried best!—

And what’s left unsaid, feel.

Chaplain (his words broken by the cannonade)

“ .... We give Thee hearty thanks for that it
hath pleased Thee to deliver this our brother out of die
miseries of this sinful world. . . . Who also hath
taught us not to be sorry, as men without hope, for
them that sleep in Him. . . . Grant this, through
Jesus Christ our Mediator and Redeemer.”

Officers and Soldiers

Amen!

The diggers of the Ninth hastily fill in the grave, and the scene
shuts as the mournful figures retire.

280

SCENE V

PART SECOND

SCENE V

VIENNA. A CAFE IN THE STEPHANS-PLATZ

An evening between light and dark is disclosed, some lamps being
lit. The huge body and tower of St. Stephen’s rise into the sky
some way off, the western gleam still touching the upper stonework.
Groups of people are seated at the tables, drinking and reading the
newspapers. One very animated group, which includes an English¬
man, is talking loudly. A citizen near looks up from his newspaper.

Citizen (to the Englishman)

I read, sir, here, the troubles you discuss
Of your so gallant army under Moore.

His was a spirit baffled but not quelled,

And in his death there shone a stoicism
That lent retreat the rays of victory.

Englishman

It was so. While men chide they will admire him,
And frowning, praise. I could nigh prophesy
That the unwonted crosses he has borne
In his career of sharp vicissitude
Will tinct his story with a tender charm,

And grant the memory of his strenuous feats
As long a lease within the minds of men
As conquerors hold there.—Does the sheet give news
Of how the troops reached home ?

Citizen (looking again at the paper)

Yes ; from your press

It quotes that they arrived at Plymouth Sound
Mid dreadful weather and much suffering.

It states they looked the very ghosts of men,

So heavily had hunger told on them,

And the fatigues and toils of the retreat.

281

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Several were landed dead, and many died
As they were borne along. At Portsmouth, too,

Sir David Baird, still helpless from his wound,

Was carried in a cot, sheet-pale and thin,

And Sir John Hope, lank as a skeleton.—.

Thereto is added, with authority,

That a new expedition soon will fit,

And start again for Spain.

Englishman

I have heard as much.

Citizen

You’ll do it next time, sir. And so shall we !

Second Citizen (regarding the church tower opposite)

You witnessed the High Service over there
They held this morning ? (To the Englishman.)

Englishman

Ay ; I did get in ;

Though not without hard striving, such the throng;
But travellers roam to waste who shyly roam
And I pushed like the rest.

Second Citizen

Our young Archduchess
Maria Louisa was, they tell me, present ?

Englishman

O yes : the whole Imperial family,

And when the Bishop called all blessings down
Upon the Landwehr colours there displayed,
Enthusiasm touched the sky—she sharing it.

282

SCENE V

PART SECOND

Second Citizen

Commendable in her, and spirited,

After the graceless insults to the Court
The Paris journals flaunt—not voluntarily,

But by his ordering. Magician-like
He holds them in his fist, and at his squeeze
They bubble what he wills! . . . Yes, she’s a girl
Of patriotic build, and hates the French.

Quite lately she was overheard to say
She had met with most convincing auguries
That this year Bonaparte was starred to die.

Englishman

Your arms must render its fulfilment sure.

Second Citizen

Right! And we have the opportunity,

By upping to the war in suddenness,

And catching him unaware. The pink and flower
Of all his veteran troops are now in Spain
Fully engaged with yours ; while those he holds
In Germany are scattered far and wide.

First Citizen (looking up again from his newspaper)

I see here that he vows and guarantees
Inviolate bounds to all our territories
If we but pledge to carry out forthwith
A prompt disarmament. Since that’s his price
Hell burn his guarantees! Too long he has fooled us.
(To the Englishman) I drink, sir, to your land’s consistency.
While we and all the kindred Europe States
Alternately have wooed and warred with him,

You have not bent to blowing hot and cold,

But held you sturdily inimical!

283

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Englishman (laughing)

Less Christian-like forgiveness mellows us

Than Continental souls! (They drink.)

A band is heard in a distant street, with shouting. Enter third
and fourth citizens, followed by others.

First Citizen

More news afloat ?

Third and Fourth Citizens

Yea ; an announcement that the Archduke Charles
Is given the chief command.

First, Second, etc., Citizens

Huzza! Right so!

A clinking of glasses, rising from seats, and general enthusiasm.

Second Citizen

If war had not so patly been declared,

Our howitzers and firelocks of themselves
Would have gone off to shame us ! This forenoon
Some of the Landwehr met me ; they are hot
For setting out, though but few months enrolled.

Englishman

That moves reflection somewhat. They are young
For measuring with the veteran files of France!

First Citizen

Napoleon’s army swarms with tender youth,

His last conscription besomed into it
Thousands of merest boys. But he contrives
To mix them in the field with seasoned frames.

284

SCKNK V

PART SECOND

Second Citizen

The sadly-seen mistake this country made
Was that of grounding hostile arms at all.

We should have fought irreconcilably—

Have been consistent as the English are.

The French are our hereditary foes,

And this adventurer of the saucy sword,

This sacrilegious slighter of our shrines,

Stands author of our ills . . .

Our harvest fields and fruits he tramples on,
Accumulating ruin in our land.

Think of what mournings in the last sad war
'Twas his to instigate and answer for !

Time never can efface the glint of tears
In palaces, in shops, in fields, in cots,

From women widowed, sonless, fatherless,

That then oppressed our eyes. There is no salve
For such deep harrowings but to fight again ;

Th’ enfranchisement of Europe hangs thereon,

And long she has lingered for the sign to crush him :
That signal we have given ; the time is come!

(Thumping on the tables.)

Fifth Citizen (at another table, looking up from his
paper and speaking across)

I see that Russia has declined to aid us,

ASd says she knows that Prussia likewise must;

So that the mission of Prince Schwarzenberg
To Alexander’s Court has closed in failure.

Third Citizen

Ay—through his being honest—fatal sin!—
Probing too plainly for the Emperor’s ears
His ominous friendship with Napoleon.

285

THE DYNASTS

ACT III

Englishman

Some say he was more than honest with the Tsar;

Hinting that his becoming an ally

Makes him accomplice of the Corsican

In the unprincipled dark overthrow

Of his poor trusting childish Spanish friends—

Which gave the Tsar offence.

Third Citizen

And our best bid—

The last, most delicate dish—a tastelessness.

First Citizen

What was Prince Schwarzenberg’s best bid, I pray ?
Third Citizen

The offer of the heir of Austria’s hand
For Alexander’s sister the Grand-Duchess.

Englishman

He could not have accepted, if or no :

She is inscribed as wife for Bonaparte.

First Citizen

I doubt that text 1

Englishman

Time’s context soon will show.
Second Citizen

The Russian Cabinet can not for long
Resist the ardour of the Russian ranks
To march with us the moment we achieve
Our first loud victory!

A band is heard playing afar, and shouting.'' People are seen
hurrying past in the direction of the sounds. Enter sixth citizen.

286

SCENE V

PART SECOND

Sixth Citizen

The Archduke Charles
Is passing along the Ringstrass’ just by now,

His regiment at his heels!

The younger sitters jump up with animation, and go out, the
elder mostly remaining.

Second Citizen

Realm never faced
The grin of a more fierce necessity
For horrid war, than ours at this tense time!

The sounds of band-playing and huzzaing wane away. Citizens
return.

First Citizen

More news, my friends, of swiftly swelling zeal ?

Re-entered Citizens

Ere passing down the Ring, the Archduke paused
And gave the soldiers speech, enkindling them
As sunrise a confronting throng of panes
That glaze a many-windowed east fa 9 ade_:

Hot volunteers vamp in from vill and plain
More than we need in furthest sacrifice!

First, Second, etc., Citizens

Huzza
praised!

Right

Good! Forwards! God be

They stand up, and a clinking of glasses follows, till they subside
to quietude and P a reperusal of newspapers. Nightfall succeeds.
Dancing-rooms are lit up in an opposite street, mid dancmg begins.
The figures are seen gracefully moving round to the throbbing strains
of astring-bSid, which plays a new waltzing movement with a war-
Uke name, soon to spread over Europe. The dancers sing punotrc
words as the, whirl. ^ ^ ^ ^

2 87

ACT FOURTH

SCENE I

A ROAD OUT OF VIENNA

It is a morning in early May. Rain descends in torrents, accom¬
panied by peals of thunder. The tepid downpour has caused the
trees to assume as by magic a clothing of limp green leafage, and
has turned the ruts of the uneven highway into little canals.

A drenched travelling-chariot is passing, with a meagre escort.
In the interior are seated four women: the Archduchess Maria
Louisa, in age about eighteen; her stepmother the Empress of
Austria, third wife of Francis, only four years older than the
Archduchess ; and two ladies of the Austrian Court. Behind come
attendant carriages bearing servants and luggage.

The inmates remain for the most part silent, and appear to be in
a gloomy frame of mind. From time to time they glance at the
moist spring scenes which pass without in a perspective distorted by
the rain-drops that slide down the panes, and by the blurring effect
of the travellers 5 breathings. Of the four the one who keeps in the
best spirits is the Archduchess, a fair, blue-eyed, full-figured, round¬
lipped maiden.

Maria Louisa

Whether the rain comes in or not I must open the
window. Please allow me. (She straightway opens it.)

Empress (groaning)

Yes—open or shut it—I don’t care. I am too ill
to care for anything ! (The carriage jolts into a hole.) O
woe! To think that I am driven away from my
husband’s home in such a miserable conveyance, along
such a road, and in such weather as this. (Peal of
thunder.) There are his guns !

288

SCENE 1

PART SECOND

Maria Louisa

No, my dear one. It cannot be his guns. They
told us when we started that he was only half-way
from Ratisbon hither, so that he must be nearly a
hundred miles off as yet; and a large army cannot
move fast.

Empress

He should never have been let come nearer than
Ratisbon! The victory at Echmuhl was fatal for us.
O Echmuhl, Echmuhl! I believe he will overtake us
before we get to Buda.

First Lady-in-Waiting

If so, your Majesty, shall we be chained as
prisoners and marched to Paris ?

Empress

Undoubtedly. But I shouldn’t much care. It would
not be worse than this. ... I feel sodden all through
me, and frowzy, and broken ! (She closes her eyes as if to
doze.)

Maria Louisa

It is dreadful to see her suffer so! (Shutting the
window.) If the roads were not so bad I should not
mind. I almost wish we had stayed ; though when he
arrives the cannonade will be terrible.

First Lady-in-Waiting

I wonder if he will get into Vienna. Will his men
knock down all the houses, madam ?

Maria Louisa

If he do get in, I am sure his triumph will not be
for long. My uncle the Archduke Charles is at his
heels! I have been told many important prophecies

289 u

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

about Bonaparte’s end, which is fast nearing, it is
asserted. It is he, they say, who is referred to in the
Apocalypse. He is doomed to die this year at Cologne,
in an inn called “ The Red Crab.” I don’t attach too
much importance to all these predictions, but O, how
alad I should be to see them come true !

Second Lady-in-Waiting

So should we all, madam. What would become of
his divorce-scheme then ?

Maria Louisa

Perhaps there is nothing in that report. One can
hardly believe such gossip.

Second Lady-in-Waiting

But they say, your Imperial Highness, that he
certainly has decided to sacrifice the Empress
Josephine, and that at the meeting last October with
the Emperor Alexander at Erfurt, it was even settled
that he should marry as his second wife the Grand-
Duchess Anne.

Maria Louisa

I am sure that the Empress her mother will never
allow one of the house of Romanoff to marry with a
bourgeois Corsican. I wouldn’t if I were she!

First Lady-in-Waiting

Perhaps, your Highness, they are not so particular
in Russia, where they are rather new themselves, as
we in Austria, with your ancient dynasty, are in such
matters.

Maria Louisa

Perhaps not. Though the Empress-mother is a
pompous old thing, as I have been told by Prince

290

SCENE I

PART SECOND

Schwarzenberg, who was negotiating there last winter.
My father says it would be a dreadful misfortune for
our country if they were to marry. Though if we are
to be exiled I don’t see how anything of that sort can
matter much. ... I hope my father is safe!

An officer of the escort rides up to the carriage window, which is
opened.

Empress (unclosing her eyes)

Any more misfortunes ?

Officer

A rumour is a-wind, your Majesty,

That the French host, the Emperor in its midst,
Lannes, Massena, and Bessieres in its van,
Advancing hither along the Ratisbon road,

Has seized the castle and town of Ebersberg,

And burnt all down, with frightful massacre,

Vast heaps of dead and wounded being consumed,
So that the streets stink strong with frizzled flesh.—
The enemy, ere this, has crossed the Traun,

Hurling brave Hiller’s army back on us,

And marches on Amstetten—thirty miles
Less distant from Vienna than before!

Empress

The Lord show mercy to us! But O why
Did not the Archdukes intercept the foe ?

Officer

His Highness Archduke Charles, your Majesty,
After his sore repulse Bohemia-wards,

Could not proceed with strength and speed enough
To close in junction with the Archduke John
And Archduke Louis, as was their intent.

So Marshall Lannes swings swiftly on Vienna,
With Oudinot’s and Demont’s force of foot;

291

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Then Mass&ia and all his mounted men,

And then Napoleon, Guards, and Cuirassiers,

And the main body of the Imperial might.

Empress

Alas for poor Vienna !

Officer

Even so!

Your Majesty has fled it none too soon.

The window is shut, and the procession disappears behind the
sheets of rain.

SCENE II

THE ISLAND OF LOBAU, WITH WAG RAM BEYOND

The north horizon at the back of the bird’s-eye prospect is
the high ground stretching from the Bisamberg on the left to the
plateau of Wagram on the right. In front of these elevations spreads
the wide plain of the Marchfeld, open, treeless, and with scarcely a
house upon it . 1

In the foreground the Danube crosses the scene with a graceful
slowness, looping itself round the numerous wooded islands therein..
The largest of these, immediately under the eye, is the Lobau, which
stands like a knot in the gnarled grain represented by the running
river.

On this island can be discerned, closely packed, an enormous dark
multitude of foot, horse, and artillery in French uniforms,*the
numbers reaching to a hundred and seventy thousand.

Lifting our eyes to discover what may be opposed to them we
perceive on the Wagram plateau aforesaid, and right and left in front of
it, extended lines of Austrians, whitish and glittering, to the number
of a hundred and forty thousand.

The July afternoon turns to evening, the evening to twilight. A
species of simmer which pervades the living spectacle raises ex¬
pectation till the very air itself seems strained with suspense. A huge
event of some kind is awaiting birth. °

1 At this date.

292

SCENE II

PART SECOND

DUMB SHOW

The first change under the cloak of night is that the tightly
packed regiments on the island are got under arms. The soldiery
are like a thicket of reeds in which every reed should be a man.

A large bridge connects the island with the further shore, as well
as some smaller bridges. Opposite are high redoubts and ravelins
that the Austrians have constructed for opposing the passage across,
which the French ostentatiously set themselves to attempt by the
large bridge, amid heavy cannonading.

But the movement is a feint, though this is not perceived by the
Austrians as yet. The real movement is on the right hand of the
foreground, behind a spur of the isle, and out of sight of the enemy;
where several large rafts and flat boats, each capable of carrying
three hundred men, are floated out from a screened creek.

Chosen battalions enter upon these, which immediately begin to
cross with their burden. Simultaneously from other screened nooks
secretly prepared floating bridges, in sections, are moved forth, joined
together, and defended by those who crossed on the rafts.

At two o’clock in the morning the thousands of cooped soldiers
begin to cross the bridges, producing a scene which, on such a scale,
was never before witnessed in the history of war. A great discharge
from the batteries accompanies this manoeuvre, arousing the
Austrians to a like cannonade.

The night has been obscure for summer-time, and there is no
moon. The storm now breaks in a tempestuous downpour, with
lightning and thunder. The tumult of nature mingles so fantastically
with the tumult of projectiles that flaming bombs and forked flashes
cut the air in company, and the noise from the mortars alternates
with the noise from the clouds.

From bridge to bridge and back again a gloomy-eyed figure stalks,
as it has stalked the whole night long, with the restlessness of a wild
animal. Plastered with mud, and dribbling with rain-water, it bears
no resemblance to anything dignified or official. The figure is that
of Napoleon, urging his multitudes over.

By daylight the great mass of the men is across the water. At six
the rain ceases, the mist uncovers the face of the sun, which bristles
on the helmets and bayonets of the French. A hum of amazement
rises from the Austrian hosts, who turn staring faces southward and
perceive what has happened, and the columns of their enemies
standing to arms on the same side of the stream with themselves, and
preparing to turn their left wing.

Napoleon rides along the front of his forces, which now spread
out upon the plain, and are ranged in order of battle.

Dumb Show ends, and the point of view changes.

293

THE DYNASTS

ACT IY

SCENE III

THE FIELD OF WAGRAM

The battlefield is now viewed reversely, from the windows of a
mansion at Wolkersdorf, to the rear of the Austrian position. The
aspect of the windows is nearly south, and the prospect includes the
plain of the Marchfeld, with the isled Danube and Lobau in the
extreme distance. Ten miles to the south-west, rightwards, the
faint summit of the tower of St. Stephen’s, Vienna, appears. On the
middle-left stands the compact plateau of Wagram, so regularly
shaped as to seem as if constructed by art. On die extreme left the
July sun has lately risen.

Inside the room are discovered the Emperor Francis and some
household officers in attendance; with the War- Minister and
Secretaries at a table at the back. Through open doors can be seen
in an outer apartment adjutants, equerries, aides, and other military
men. An officer in waiting enters.

Officer

During the night the French have shifted, sire,
And much revised their stations of the eve
By thwart and wheeling moves upon our left,
And on our centre—projects unforeseen
Till near accomplished.

Francis

But I am advised

By oral message that the Archduke Charles,
Since the sharp strife last night, has mended, too.
His earlier dispositions, stiffened files,

Sped iron orders to the Archduke John,

To bring in swiftest marches all his might,

And pounce with heavy impact on the French
From nigh their rear.

294

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Officer

’Tis good, sire ; such a swoop
Will raise an obstacle to their retreat
And refuge in the fastness of the isle ;

And show this victory-gorged adventurer
That striking with a river in his rear
Is not the safest tactic to be played
Against an Austrian front equipt like ours!

The Emperor Francis and others scrutinize through their glasses
the positions and movements of the Austrian divisions, which appear
on the plain as pale masses, emitting flashes from arms and helmets
under the July rays, and reaching from the Tower of Neusiedel on
the left, past Wagram, into the village of Stammersdorf on the right.
Beyond their lines axe spread out the darker-hued French, almost
parallel to the Austrians.

Francis

Those moving masses toward the right I deem
The forces of Klenau and Kollowrath,

Sent to support Prince J ohn of Lichtenstein
In his attack that way?

An interval.

Now that they’ve gained
The right there, why is not the attack begun ?

Officer

They are beginning on the left wing, sire.

The Emperor resumes his glass and beholds bodies of men
descending from the hills by Neusiedel, and crossing the Russbach
river towards the French—a movement which has been going on for
some time.

Meanwhile the French stride stoutly on our midst!

Francis (turning thither)

Where we are weakest! It surpasses me
To understand why was our centre thinned
To pillar up our right already strong,

295

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Where nought is doing, while our left assault
Stands ill-supported ?

Time passes in silence.

Yes ; it is so. See,

The enemy strikes Rossenberg in flank,

Compelling him to fall behind the Russbach!

The Emperor gets excited, and his face perspires. At length
he cannot watch through his glass, and walks up and down.

Penned useless here my nerves annoy my sight!
Inform me what you note.—I should opine
The Wagram height behind impregnable ?

Another silence, broken by the distant roar of the guns.

Officer (at his glass)

Klenau and Kollowrath are pounding on!

To turn the enemy’s left with our strong right
Is, after all, a plan that works out well.

Hiller and Lichtenstein conjoin therein.

Francis

I hear from thence appalling cannonades.

Officer

’Tis theirs, your Majesty. Now we shall see
If the French read that there the danger lies.

Francis

I only pray that Bonaparte refrain
From spying danger there till all too late!

Officer (involuntarily, after a pause)
Ah, Heaven!

296

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Francis (turning sharply)

Well, well ? What changes figure now ?

Officer

They pierce our centre, sire! We are, despite,

Not centrally so weak as I supposed.

Well done, Bellegarde!

Francis (glancing to the centre)

And what has he well done ?

Officer

The French in fierce fume broke through Aderklaa;
But Bellegarde, pricking along the plain behind,

Has charged and driven them back disorderedly.

The Archduke Charles bounds thither, as I shape,

In person to support him!

The Emperor returns to his spyglass ; and they and others
watch in silence, sometimes the right of their front, sometimes the
centre.

Francis

It is so!

That right attack of ours spells victory,

And Austria’s grand salvation! . . . (Time passes.)
Turn your glass,

And closely scan Napoleon and his aides
Hand-galloping towards his centre-left
To strengthen it against the brave Bellegarde.

Does your eye reach him ?—That white horse, alone
In front of those that move so rapidly.

Officer

It does, sire; though my glass can conjure not
So cunningly as yours. . . . That horse must be
The famed Euphrates—him the Persian king
Sent Bonaparte as gift.

2 97

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

A silence. Napoleon reaches a carriage that is moving across.
It bears Mass£na, who, having received a recent wound, is unable
to ride.

Francis

See, the white horse and horseman pause beside
A coach for some strange reason rolling there. . . .
That white-horsed rider—yes !—is Bonaparte,

By the aides hovering round. . . .

New war-wiles have been worded; we shall spell
Their purport soon enough ! (An interval.)

The French take heart
To stand to our battalions steadfastly,

And hold their ground, having the Emperor near!

Time passes. An aide-de-camp enters.

Aide

The Archduke Charles is pierced in the shoulder, sire ;
He strove too far in beating back the French
At Aderklaa, and was nearly ta’en.

The wound’s not serious.—On our right we win,

And deem the battle ours.

Enter another aide-de-camp.

Second Aide

Your Majesty,

We have borne them back through Aspern village-
street

And Essling is recovered. What counts more,

Their bridges to the rear we have nearly grasped,

And panic-struck they crowd the few left free,

Choking the track, with cries of “All is lost! ”

Francis

Then is the land delivered. God be praised !

[Exeunt aides.

An interval, during which the Emperor and his companions
again remain anxiously at their glasses.

298

SCENE m

PART SECOND

There is a curious feature I discern
To have come upon the battle. On our right
We gain ground rapidly; towards the left
We lose it; and the unjudged consequence
Is that the armies’ whole commingling mass
Moves like a monstrous wheel. I like it not!

Enter another aide-de-camp.

Third Aide

Our left wing, sire, recedes before Davout,

Whom nothing can withstand ! Two corps he threw
Across the Russ bach up to Neusiedel,

While he himself assailed the place in front.

Of the divisions one pressed on and on,

Till lodged atop. They would have been hurled
back-

F RAN CIS

But how goes it with us in sum ? pray say !

Third Aide

We have been battered off the eastern side
Of Wagram plateau.

Francis

Where’s the Archduke J ohn ?
Why comes he not ? One man of his here now
Were worth a host anon. And yet he tarries!

[Exit third aide.

Time passes, while they reconnoitre the field with strained eyes.

Our centre-right, it seems, round Neusiedel,

Is being repulsed ! May the kind Heaven forbid
That good Hess’ Homberg should be yielding there 1

The Minister in attendance comes forward, and the Emperor
consults him ; then walking up and down in silence. Another aide-
de-camp enters.

299

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Fourth Aide

Sire, Neusiedel has just been wrenched from us,

And the French right is on the Wagram crest ;
Nordmann has fallen, and Veczay: Homberg, I learn,
Warteachben, Muger—almost all our best—

Bleed more or less profusely!

A gloomy silence. Exit fourth aide. Ten minutes pass. Enter
an officer in waiting.

Francis

What guns are those that groan from Wagram height?

Officer

Alas, Davout’s! I have climbed the roof-top, sire,
And there discerned the truth.

Cannonade continues. A long interval of suspense. The
Emperor returns to his glass.

Francis

A part of it!

There seems to be a grim, concerted lunge
By the whole strength of France upon our right,
Centre, and left wing simultaneously!

Officer

Most viciously upon the centre, sire,

If I mistook not, hard by Sussenbrunn ;

The assault is led by Bonaparte in person,

Who shows himself with marvellous recklessness,

Yet like a phantom-fiend receives no hurt.

Francis (still gazing)

Ha! Now the Archduke Charles has seen the intent,
And taken steps against it. Sussenbrunn
Must be the threatened thing. (Silence.) What an
advance!—

300

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Straight hitherward. Our centre girdles them.—
Sorely they’ll not persist ? Who heads that charge

Officer

They say Macdonald, sire.

Francis

Meagrest remains

Will there be soon of those in that advance!

We are burning them to bones by our hot fire.
They are almost circumscribed : if fully so
The battle’s ours ! What’s that behind them, eh ?

Officer

Their last reserves, that they may feed the front,
And sterilize our hope !

Francis

Yes, their reserve—
Dragoons and cuirassiers—charge in support.
You see their metal gleaming as they come.
Well, it is neck or nothing for them now!

Officer

It’s nothing, sire. Their charge of cavalry
Has desperately failed.

Francis

Their foot press on,
However, with a battery in front
Which deals the foulest damage done us yet.

(Time passes.)

They are effecting lodgment, after all.

Who would have reckoned on’t—our men so firm !

Re-enter first aide-de-camp.

301

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

First Aide

The Archduke Charles retreats, your Majesty;
And the issue wears a dirty look just now.

Francis (gloomily)

Yes : I have seen the signs for some good while.

But he retreats with blows, and orderly.

Time passes, till the sun has rounded far towards the west
The features of the battle now materially change. The French
have regained Aspem and Essling ; the Austrian army is crumpled
back from the Danube and from the heights of Wagram, which, as
viewed from Wolkersdorf, face the afternoon shine, the French
established thereon glittering in the rays.

Francis (choking a sigh)

The turn has passed. We are worsted, but not
whelmed! . . .

The French advance is laboured, and but slow.

—This might have been another-coloured day
If but the Archduke John had joined up promptly ;
Yet still he lags!

Another Officer (lately entered)

He’s just now coming, sire.

His columns glimmer in the Frenchmen’s rear,

Past Siebenbrunn’s and Loebensdorfs smoked hills-

Francis (impatiently)

Ay—coming now ! Why could he not be come !

(They watch intently.)

We can see nothing of that side from here.

Enter a general officer, who speaks to the Minister at the back
of the room.

302

SCENIC III

PART SECOND

Minister (coming forward)

Your Majesty, I now must needs suggest,
Pursuant to conclusions reached this morn,

That since the front and flower of all our force
Is seen receding to the Bisamberg,

These walls no longer yield safe shade for you,
Or facile outlook. Scouts returning say
Either Davout, or Bonaparte himself,

With the mid-columns of his forward corps,

Will pant up hitherward in fierce pursuit,

And may intrude beneath this very roof.

Not yet, I think; it may not be to-night;

But we should stand prepared.

Francis

If we must go

We’ll go with a good grace, unfeignedly!

Who knows to-morrow may not see regained
What we have lost to-day ?

Re-enter fourth aide-de-camp.

Fourth Aide (breathlessly)

The Archduke John,
Discerning our main musters in retreat,

Abandons an advance that throws on him
The enemy’s whole brunt if he bear on.

Francis

Alas for his devotion ! Let us go.

Such weight of sadness as we shoulder now
Will wring us down to sleep in stall or stye,

If even that be found! . . . Think! Bonaparte,
By reckless riskings of his life and limb,

Has turned the steelyard of our strength to-day,
3°3

ACT IV

THE DYNASTS

Whilst I have idled here! . . . May brighter times
Attend the cause of Europe far in Spain,

And British blood flow not, as ours, in vain!

[Exeunt the Emperor Francis, ministers, officers, and attendants.
The night comes, and the scene is obscured.

SCENE IV

THE FIELD OF TALAVERA

It is the same month and weather as in the preceding scene.

Talavera town, on the river Tagus, is at the extreme right of the
foreground; a mountain range on the extreme left.

The allied army under Sir Arthur Wellesley stretches
between—the English on the left, the Spanish on the right—part
holding a hill to the left-centre of the scene, divided from the
mountains by a valley, and part holding a redoubt to the right-centre.
This army of more than fifty thousand all told, of which twenty-two
thousand only are English, has its back to the spectator.

Beyond, in a wood of olive, oak, and cork, are the fifty to sixty
thousand French, facing the spectator and the allies. Their right
includes a strong battery upon a hill which fronts the one on the
English left.

Behind all, the heights of Salinas close the prospect, the small
river Alberche flowing at their foot from left to right into the Tagus,
which advances in foreshortened perspective to the town at the right
front corner of the scene as aforesaid.

DUMB SHOW

The hot and dusty July afternoon having turned to twilight,
shady masses of men start into motion from the French position,
come towards the foreground, silently ascend the hill on the left of
the English, and assail the latter in a violent outburst of fire and lead.
They nearly gain possession of the hill ascended.

Chorus of Rumours (aerial music)

Knells of night is vext Talavera tonguing:

Now come Ruffins slaughterers surging upward\

Backed by bold Vilatte s. From the vale Lapisse , too y
Darkly outswells there .—

304

SCENE IV

PART SECOND

JDown the vague veiled incline the English fling them ,
Eended bayonets prodding the enemy backward :

*Si| the first fierce charge of the ardent Frenchmen
England repels there !

Having fallen back into the darkness the French presently
reascend in yet larger masses. The high square knapsack which
every English foot-soldier carries, and his shako, and its tuft, outline
themselves against the dim light as the ranks stand awaiting the
shock.

Chorus of Rumours

Hushing spread they! — shout as they reach the
summit /—

Strength and stir nezv-primed in their plump battalions :
•Puffs of flame blown forth on the lines opposing
Higher and higher

There those hold them mute , though at speaking
distance —

Flute, while clicking flints , and the crash of volleys
Whelm the weighted gloom with immense distraction
Pending their fire .

Fronting heads , helms , brows can each ranksman read
there ,

Epaulettes , hot cheeks ; yea , and shining eyeballs ,

(Called for a trice from night by the fleeting pan-flash)
Pressing them nigher !

Tfee French again fall back in disorder into the hollow, and
Lapisse draws off on the right. As the sinking sound of the muskets
tells what has happened the English raise a shout.

Chorus of Pities

Thus the dim nocturnal ado of conflict
Closes with the roar of receding gun-fires.

Harness loosened then , and their day-long strenuous
Temper unbending ,

305

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Worn - out lines lie down where they late stood
staunchly —

Cloaks around them rolled—by the bivouac embers :■
There at dawn to stake in the dynasts' death-game
All, till the ending !

SCENE V

THE SAME

DUMB SHOW (continued)

The morning breaks. There is another murderous attempt to
dislodge the English from the hill, the assault being pressed with a
determination that excites the admiration of the English themselves.

The French are seen descending into the valley, crossing it, and
climbing it on the English side under the fire of Hill's whole
division, all to no purpose. In their retreat they leave behind them
on the slopes nearly two thousand lying

The day advances to noon, and the air trembles in the intense
heat. The combat flags, and is suspended.

Spirit of the Pities

What do I see but thirsty, throbbing bands
From these inimic hosts defiling down
In homely need towards the prattling stream
That parts their enmities , and drinking there /

They get to grasping hands across the rill\

Sealing their sameness as earths sojourners .—

What more could plead the wry ness of the times
Than such unstudied piteous pantomimes !

Spirit Ironic

It is only that Life s queer mechanics chance to work
out in this grotesque shape just now . The groping
tentativeness of an Immanent Will (as grey old Years

306

SCENE V

PART SECOND

describes it) cannot be asked to learn logic at this time
of day ! The spectacle of Its instruments , set to riddle
0)it\another through , and then to drink together in peace
and concord, is where the humour coims in, and makes
the play worth seeing !

Spirit Sinister

Come , Sprite , don't carry your ironies too far ; or
you 7>iay wake up the Unconscious Itself, and tempt It
to let all the gory clock-work of the show , run down to
spite me !

The drums roll, and the men of the two nations part from their
comradeship at the Alberche brook, the dark masses of the French
army assembling anew. Sir Arthur Wellesley has seated him¬
self on a mound that command, a full view of the contested hill, and
remains there motionless a long time. When the French form for
battle he is seen to have come to a conclusion. He mounts, gives
his orders, and the aides ride off.

The French advance steadily through the sultry atmosphere, the
skirmishers in front, and the columns after, moving, yet seemingly
motionless. Their eighty cannon peal out and their shots mow
every space in the line of them. Up the great valley and the
terraces of the hill whose fame is at that moment being woven,
comes Vi latte, boring his way with foot and horse, and Ruffin’s
men following behind.

According to the order given, the Twenty-third Light Dragoons
arid the German Hussars advance at a chosen moment against the
head of these columns. On the way they disappear.

Spirit of the Pities

Why this bedevilment ? What can have chanced?

Spirit of Rumour

It so befalls that as tkeir chargers near
The inimical wall of flesh with its iron frise,

A treacherous chasm uptrips them : zealous men
And docile horses roll to dismal death
And horrid mutilation.

307

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Spirit of the Pities
Those who live

Even now advance ! Til see no more. Relate.

Spirit of Rumour

Yes y those pant on. Then further Frenchmen crosSy
And Polish LancerSy and Westphalian Horsey
Who ring around these luckless Islanders ,

And sweep them down like reeds by the river-brink
In scouring floods; till scarce a man remains.

Meanwhile on the British right Sebastiani’s corps has precipitated
itself in column against General Campbell's division, the division
of Lapisse against the centre, and at the same time the hill on the
English left is again assaulted. The English and their allies are
pressed sorely here, the bellowing battery tearing lanes through their
masses.

Spirit of Rumour (continuing)

The French reserves of foot and horse now on y

Smiting the Islanders in breast and brain

Till their mid-lines are shattered. . . . Now there ticks

The moment of the crisis; now the nexty

Which brings the turning stroke.

Sir Arthur Wellesley sends down the Forty-eighth regiment
under Colonel Donellan to support the wasting troops. It
advances amid those retreating, opening td let them pass.

Spirit of Rumour (continuing)

Thenpales , enerved T

The hitherto unflinching enemy !

Lapisse is pierced to death ; the flagging French
Decline into the hollows whence they came.

The too exhausted English and reduced
Lack strength to follow.—Now the western sun ,
Conning with unmoved visage quick and deady
Gilds horsemen slackeningy and footmen stilledy
Till all around breathes drowsed hostility.

308

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Last, the sweated, herbage lifts a leering light ,
And flames traverse the field; and hurt and slain.
Opposed, opposers, in a common plight
Are scorched together on the dusk champaign.

The fire dies down, and darkness enwraps the scene.

SCENE VI

BRIGHTON. THE ROYAL PAVILION

It is the birthday dinner-party of the Prince of Wales. In the
floridly decorated banqueting-room. stretch tables spread with gold and
silver plate, and having artificial fountains in their midst.

Seated at the tables are the Prince himself as host—rosy,
well curled, and affable—the Dukes of York, Clarence, Kent,
Sussex, Cumberland, and Cambridge, with many noblemen,
including Lords Headfort, Yarmouth, Berkeley, Egremont,
Chichester, Dudley, Say and Self, Southampton, Heathfield,
Erskinic, Keith, C. Somerset, G. Cavendish, R. Seymour, and
others; Sir C. Pole, Sir E. G. de Crespigny, Mr. Sheridan;
Generals, Colonels, and Admirals, and the Rev. Mr. Scott.

The Prince’s band plays in the adjoining room. The banquet
is drawing to its close, and a boisterous conversation is in progress.

Enter Colonel Bloomfield with a dispatch for the Prince, who
looks it over amid great excitement in the company. In a few
moments silence is called.

Prince of Wales

I ha<?e the joy, my lords and gentlemen.

To rouse you with the just imported tidings
From General Wellesley through Lord Castlereagh
Of a vast victory (noisy cheers) over the French in
Spain.

The place—called Talavera de la Reyna
(If I pronounce it rightly)—long unsung,

Wears now the crest and blazonry of fame ! (Cheers.)
The heads and chief contents of the dispatch
I read you as succinctly as I can. (Cheers.)

3°9

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Sheridan (singing sotto voce)

“ Now foreign foemen die and fly,

Dammy, we’ll drink little England dry! ”

The Prince reads the parts of the dispatch that describe the
battle, amid intermittent cheers.

Prince of Wales (continuing)

Such is the substance of the news received,

Which, after Wagram, strikes us genially
As sudden sunrise through befogged night shades !

Sheridan (privately)

Begad, that’s good, sir! You are a poet born, while
the rest of us are but made, and bad at that.

The health of the army in Spain is drunk with acclamations.

Prince of Wales (continuing)

In this achievement we, alas! have lost
Too many! Yet such blanks must ever be.—
Mackenzie, Langworth, Beckett of the Guards,

Have fallen of ours ; while of the enemy
Generals Lapisse and Morlot are laid low.—

Drink to their memories !

They drink in silence.

Other news, my friends.
Received to-day is of like hopeful kind.

The Great War-Expedition to the Scheldt (cheers)
Which lately sailed, has found a favouring wind,

And by this hour has touched its destined shores.

The enterprise will soon be hot aglow,

The invaders making first the Cadsand coast,

And then descending swift on Walcheren Isle.

But items of the next step are withheld
Till later days, from obvious policy. (Cheers.)

310

9C&NE Tit

PART SECOND

Faint throbbing sounds, like the notes of violoncellos and
contrabassos reach the ear from some building not far off as the
speaker pauses.

In worthy emulation of us here

The county holds to-night a birthday ball,

Which llames with all the fashion of the town.

I have been asked to patronize their revel,

And sup with them, and likewise you, my guests.

We have good reason, with such news to bear!

Thither we haste and join our loyal friends,

And stir them with this live intelligence
Of our staunch regiments on the Spanish plains.

(Applause.)

With them we’ll now knit hands and beat the ground,
And bring in dawn as we whirl round and round!
There are some fair ones in their set to-night,

And such we need here in our bachelor-plight.

(Applause.)

The Prince, his brothers, and a large proportion of the other
Pavilion guests, swagger out in the direction of the Castle assembly-
rooms adjoining, and the deserted banqueting-hall grows dark. In a
few moments the back of the scene opens, revealing the assembly-
rooms behind.

SCENE VII

the same, the assembly rooms

The rooms are lighted with candles in brass chandeliers, and a
dance is in full movement to the strains of a string-band. A signal
is given, shortly after the clock has struck eleven, by Mr. Forth,
Master of Ceremonies.

Forth

His Royal Highness comes, though somewhat late,
Bui never too late for welcome! (Applause.) Dancers,
stand,

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

That we may do fit homage to the Prince
Who soon may shine our country’s gracious king.

After a brief stillness a commotion is heard at the door, (he
band strikes up the National air, and the Prince enters, accompanied
by the rest of the visitors from the Pavilion. The guests who have
been temporarily absent now crowd in, till there is hardly space to
stand.

Prince of Wales

(wiping his face and whispering to Sheridan)

What shall I say to fit their feelings here ?

Damn me, that other speech has stumped me quite!

Sheridan (whispering)

If heat be evidence of loy-

Prince of Wales

If what ?

Sheridan

If heat be evidence of loyalty,

Et csetera—something quaint like that might please
’em.

Prince of Wales (to the company)

If heat be evidence of loyalty,

This room affords it truly without question;

If heat be not, then its accompaniment
Most surely ’tis to-night. The news I bring,

Good ladies, friends, and gentlemen, perchance
You have divined already ? That our arms—
Engaged to thwart Napoleon’s tyranny
Over the jaunty, jocund land of Spain
Even to the highest apex of our strength—

Are rayed with victory! (Cheers.) Lengthy was the
strife.

312

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

And fierce, and hot; and sore the suffering;

But proudly we endured it; and shall hear,

N o doubt, the tale of its far consequence

Ere many days. I’ll read the details sent. (Cheers.)

He reads again from the dispatch amid more cheering, the ball-
room guests crowding round. When he has done he answers
questions ; then continuing :

Meanwhile our interest is, if possible,

As keenly waked elsewhere. Into the Scheldt
Some forty thousand bayonets and swords,

And twoscore ships o’ the line, with frigates, sloops,
And gunboats sixty more, make headway now,
Bleaching the waters with their bellying sails ;

Or maybe they already anchor there,

And that the level ooze of Walcheren shore
Rings with the voices of that landing host
In every twang of British dialect,

Clamorous to loosen fettered Europe’s chain ! (Cheers.)

A Noble Lord (aside to Sheridan)

Prinny’s outpouring tastes suspiciously like your
brew, Sheridan. I’ll be damned if it is his own con¬
coction. How d’ye sell it a gallon ?

Sheridan

I don’t deal that way nowadays. I give the recipe,
and charge a duty on the gauging. It is more artistic,
an4 saves trouble.

The company proceed to the supper-rooms, and the ball-room sinks
into solitude.

Spirit of the Pities

So they pass on. Let be !—But what is this —

A moan ?—allfrailly floating from the east
To usward, even from the forenamed isle ? . . .

Would I had not broke nescience , to inspect
A world so ill-contrived !

3i3

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

Spirit of the Years

But since thou hast
We'll hasten to the isle ; andfhou'lt behold —
Such as it is—the scene its coasts enfold.

SCENE VIII

WALCHEREN

A marshy island at the mouth of the Scheldt, lit by the low sun¬
shine of an evening in late summer. The horizontal rays from the
west lie in yellow sheaves across the vapours that the day’s heat has
drawn from the sweating soil. Sour grasses grow in places, and
strange fishy smells, now warm, now cold, pass along. Brass-hued
and opalescent bubbles, compounded of many gases, rise where
passing feet have trodden the damper spots. At night the place is
the haunt of the Jack-lantern.

DUMB SHOW

A vast army is encamped here, and in the open spaces are infan¬
try on parade—skeletoned men, some flushed, some shivering, who
are kept moving because it is dangerous to stay still. Every now
and then one falls down, and is carried away to a hospital with no
roof, where he is laid, bedless, on the ground.

In the distance soldiers are digging graves for the funerals which
are to take place after dark, delayed till then that the sight of so
many may not drive the living melancholy-mad. Faint noises are
heard in the air.

Shade of the Earth

What storm is this of souls dissolved in sighs,
And what the dingy gloom it signifies ?

Spirit of the Pities

We catch a lamentation shaped thuswise :

3i4

SCENE VIII

PART SECOND

Chorus of Pities (aerial music)

“ We who withstood the blasting blaze of war
When marshalled by the gallant Moore awhile,
Beheld the grazing death-bolt with a smile,

Closed combat edge to edge and bore to bore,

Now rot upon this Isle !

“ The ever wan morass, tke dune, the blear
Sandweed, and tepid pool, and putrid smell,

Emaciate purpose to a fractious fear,

Beckon the body to its last low cell —

A chink no chart will tell.

“ O ancient Delta, where the fen-lights flit !

Ignoble sediment of loftier lands,

Thy humour clings about our hearts and hands
And solves us to its softness, till we sit
As we were part of it.

“ Such force as fever leaves is maddened now,

With tidings trickling in from day to day
Of others' differing fortunes, wording how
They yield their lives to baulk a tyrant's sway —
Yield them not vainly, they !

“In champaigns green and purple, far and near,

Ig town and thorpe where quiet spire-cocks turn,
Through vales, by rocks, beside the brooding burn
Echoes the aggressor's arrogant career;

And we pent pithless here !

“Here, where each creeping day the creeping file
Draws past with shouldered comrades score on score.
Bearing them to their lightless last asile,

Where weary wave-waUs from the clammy shore
Will reach their ears no more.

315

THE DYNASTS

ACT IV

“ We might have fought, and had we died, died well,
Even if in dynasts discords not our own ;

Our death-spot some sad haunter might have shown,
Some tongue have asked our sires or sons to tell
The tale of how we fell;

“ But such bechanced not. Like the mist we fade,
No lustrous lines engrave in story we,

Our country's chiefs, for their own fames afraid.
Will leave our names and fates by this pale sea
To perish silently ! ”

Spirit of the Years

Why must ye echo as mechanic mimes
These mortal minions' bootless cadences,

Played on the stops of their anatomy
As is the mewling music on the strings
Of yonder ship-masts by the unweeting wind.

Or the frail tune upon this withering sedge
That holds its papery blades against the gale ?

—Men pass to dark corruption, at the best,

Ere I can count five score: these why not now ?—
The Immanent Shaper builds Its beings so
Whether ye sigh their sighs with them or no !

The night fog enwraps the isle and the dying English army.

316

ACT FIFTH

SCENE I

PARIS. A BALLROOM IN THE HOUSE OF CAMBAC&RES

The many-candied saloon at the Arch-Chancellor’s is visible
through a draped opening, and a crowd of masked dancers in fantastic
costumes revolve, sway, and intermingle to the music that proceeds
from an alcove at the further end of the same apartment. The front
of the scene is a withdrawing-room of smaller size, now vacant, save
for the presence of one sombre figure, that of Napoleon, seated, and
apparently watching the moving masquerade.

Spirit of the Pities

Napoltton even nozo unbraces not
From stress of state affairs , which hold him grave
Through revels that might win the King of Spleen
To toe a measure / I would speak with him.

Spirit of the Years

Speak if thou wilt whose speech nor mars nor mends l

Spirit of the Pities (into Napoleon’s ear)

Why thus and thus Napotion ? Can it be
That Wagram with its glories , shocks, and shames ,
Still leaves athirst the palate of thy pride ?

3i7

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Napoleon (answering as in soliloquy)

The trustless, timorous lease of human life
Warns me to hedge in my diplomacy.

The sooner, then, the safer! Ay, this eve,

This very night, will I take steps to rid
My morrows of the weird contingencies
That vision round and make one hollow-eyed. . . .

The unexpected, lurid death of Lannes
Rigid as iron, reaped down like a straw—

Tiptoed Assassination haunting round
In unthought thoroughfares, the near success
Of Staps the madman, argue to forbid
The riskful blood of my previsioned line
And potence for dynastic empery
To linger vialled in my veins alone.

Perhaps within this very house and hour.

Under an innocent mask of Love or Hope,

Some enemy queues my ways to coffin me. ...

When at the first clash of the late campaign,

A bold belief in Austria’s star prevailed,

There pulsed quick pants of expectation round
Among the cowering kings, that too well told
What would have fared had I been overthrown !

So ; I must send down shoots to future time
Who’ll plant my standard and my story there ;

And a way opens.—Better I had not
Bespoke a wife from Alexander’s house. _

Not there now lies my look. But done is done.

The dance ends and masks enter, Berthier among them.
Napoleon beckons to him, and he comes forward.

God send you find amid this motley crew
Frivolities enough, friend Berthier—eh ?

My thoughts have worn oppressive shades despite such!
What scandals of me do they bandy here ?

These close disguises render women bold—

Their shames being of the light, not of the thing—
And your sagacity has garnered much,

318

SCENE I

PART SECOND

I make no doubt, ot ill and good report,

That marked our absence from the capital ?

Berthier

Methinks, your Majesty, the enormous tale
Of your campaign, like Aaron’s serpent-rod,

Has swallowed up the smaller of its kind.

Some speak, ’tis true, in counterpoise thereto,

Of English deeds by Talavera town,

Though blurred by their exploit at Walcheren,

And all its crazy, crass futilities.

Napoleon

Yet was the exploit well featured in design,

Large in idea, and imaginative ;

I had not deemed the blinkered English folk
So capable of view. Their fate contrived
To place an idiot at the helm of it,

Who marred its working, else it had been hard
If things had not gone seriously for us.

—But see, a lady saunters hitherward
Whose gait proclaims her Madame Metternich,

One that I fain would speak with.

Napoleon rises and crosses the room towards a lady-masker who
has just appeared in the opening. Berthier draws off, and the
Emperor, unceremoniously taking the lady’s arm, brings her forward
to a chair, and sits down beside her as dancing is resumed.

Madame Metternich

In a flash

I recognized you, sire; as who would not
The bearer of such deep-delved charactery ?

Napoleon

The devil, madame, take your piercing eyes!

It’s hard I cannot prosper in a game
That every coxcomb plays successfully.

3i9

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

—So here you are still, though your loving lord
Disports him at Vienna ?

Madame Metternich
Paris, true,

Still holds me; though in quiet, save to-night,
When I have been expressly prayed come hither,
Or I had not left home.

Napoleon

I sped that prayer!—

I have a wish to put a case to you,

Wherein a woman’s judgment, such as yours,

May be of signal service. (He lapses into reverie.)

Madame Metternich

Well ? The case—

Napoleon

Is marriage—mine.

Madame Metternich

It is beyond me, sire!

Napoleon

You glean that I have decided to dissolve
(Pursuant to monitions murmured long)

My union with the present Empress—formed
Without the Church’s due authority ?

Madame Metternich

Vaguely. And that light tentatives have winged
Betwixt your Majesty and Russia’s court,

To moot that one of their Grand-Duchesses
Should be your Empress-wife. Nought else I know.

320

SCENE I

PART SECOND

Napoleon

There have been such approaching^ ; more, worse luck.
Cast week Champagny wrote to Alexander
Asking him for his sister—yes or no.

Madame Metternich

What “ worse luck ” lies in that, your Majesty,

If severance from the Empress Josephine
Be fixed unalterably ?

Napoleon

This worse luck lies there :
If your Archduchess, Marie Louise the fair,

Would straight accept my hand, I’d offer it,

And throw the other over. Faith, the Tsar
Has shown such backwardness in answering me,
Time meanwhile trotting, that I have ample ground
For such withdrawal.—Madame, now, again,

Will your Archduchess marry me or no ?

That is, will her good sire assent thereto ?

Madame Metternich

Your sudden questions quite confound my sense!

It is impossible to answer them.

Napoleon

Well, madame, now I’ll put it to you thus :

Were you in the Archduchess Marie’s place
Would you accept my hand—and heart therewith ?

Madame Metternich
I should refuse you—most assuredly ! 1

1 So Madame Metternich to her husband in reporting this interview. But
who shall say !

321 Y

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Napoleon (laughing roughly)

Ha-ha! That’s frank. And devilish cruel too!

_Well, write to your husband. Ask him what tie

thinks,

And let me know.

Madame Metternich

Indeed, sire, why should I ?

There goes the Ambassador, Prince Schwarzenberg,
Successor to my spouse. He’s now the groove
And proper conduit of diplomacy
Through whom to broach this matter to his Court.

Napoleon

Do you, then, broach it through him, madame, pray;
Now, here, to-night.

Madame Metternich
I will, informally,

To humour you, on this recognizance,

That you leave not the business in my hands,

But clothe your project in official guise
Through him to-morrow ; so safeguarding me
From foolish seeming, as the babbler forth
Of a fantastic and unheard of dream.

Napoleon

I’ll send Eugene to him, as you suggest.

Meanwhile prepare him. Make your stand-point this :
Children are needful to my dynasty,

And if one woman cannot mould them for me,

Why, then, another must.

[Exit Napoleon abruptly.

Dancing continues. Madame Metternich sits on, musing.
Enter Schwarzenberg.

322

SCENE I

PART SECOND

Madame Metternich

The Emperor has just left me. We have tapped
This theme and that; his Empress and—his next.
Ay, so! Now, guess you anything?

SCHWARZENBERG

Of her ?

No more than that the stock of Romanoff
Will not supply the spruce commodity.

Madame Metternich

And that the would-be customer turns toe
To our shop in Vienna.

SCHWARZENBERG

Marvellous;

And comprehensible but as the dream
Of Delaborde, of which I have lately heard.

It will not work!—What think you, madame, on’t

Madame Metternich

That it will work, and is as good as wrought!—

I break it to you thus, at his request.

In brief time Prince Eugene will wait on you,

And make the formal offer in his name.

SCHWARZENBERG

Which I can but receive ad referendum,

And shall initially make clear as much,

Disclosing not a glimpse of my own mind!
Meanwhile you make good Metternich aware ?

Madame Metternich

I write this midnight, that amaze may pitch
To coolness ere your messenger arrives.

323

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

ScHWARZENBERG

This radiant revelation flicks a gleam
On many circling things !—the courtesies
Which graced his bearing towards our officers
Amid the tumults of the late campaign,

His wish for peace with England, his affront
At Alexander’s tedious-timed reply . . .

Well, it will thrust a thorn in Russia’s side,

If I err not, whatever else betide ! [Exeunt.

The maskers surge into the foreground of the scene, and their
motions become more and more fantastic. A strange gloom begins
and intensifies, until only the high lights of their grinning figures are
visible. These also, with the whole ball-room, gradually darken, and
the music softens to silence.

SCENE II

PARIS. THE TUILERIES

The evening of the next day. A saloon of the Palace, with
folding-doors communicating with a dining-room. The doors are
flung open, revealing on the dining-table an untouched dinner,
Napoleon and Josephine rising from it, and de Batjsset, chamber-
lam-in-waiting, pacing up and down. The Emperor and Empress
come forward into the saloon, the latter pale and distressed, and
patting her eyes with her handkerchief.

The doors are closed behind them; a page brings in coffee;
Napoleon signals to him to leave. Josephine goes to pour out the
coffee, but Napoleon pushes her aside and pours it out himself,
looking at her in a way which causes her to sink cowering into a
chair like a frightened animal.

Josephine

I see my doom, my friend, upon your face!

Napoleon

You see me bored by Cambaceres’ ball.

324

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Josephine

It means divorce!—a thing more terrible
Than carrying elsewhere the dalliances
That formerly were mine. I kicked at that;

But now agree, as I for long have done,

To any infidelities of act
May I be yours in name!

Napoleon

My mind must bend

To other things than our domestic pettings :

The Empire orbs above our happiness,

And ’tis the Empire dictates this divorce.

I reckon on your courage and calm sense
To breast with me the law’s formalities,

And get it through before the year has flown.

Josephine

But are you really going to part from me ?

O no, no, my dear husband ; no, in truth,

It cannot be my Love will serve me so!

Napoleon

I mean but mere divorcement, as I said,

On simple grounds of sapient sovereignty.

Josephine

But nothing have I done save good to you :—
Since the fond day we wedded into one
I never even have thought you jot of harm!

Many the happy junctures when you have said
I stood as guardian-angel over you,

As your Dame Fortune, too, and endless things
Of such-like pretty tenour—yes, you have!

Then how can you so gird against me now ?

325

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

You had not pricked me with it much of late,

And so I hoped and hoped the ugly spectre
Had been laid dead and still.

Napoleon (impatiently)

I tell you, dear,

The thing’s decreed, and even the princess chosen.

Josephine

Ah—so—the princess chosen ! . . . I surmise
It is none else than the Grand-Duchess Anne :

Gossip was right—though I would not believe.

She’s young; but no great beauty!—Yes, I see
Her silly, soulless eyes and horrid hair;

In which new gauderies you’ll forget sad me!

Napoleon

Upon my soul you are childish, Josephine :

A woman of your years to pout it so !—

I say it’s not the Tsar’s Grand-Duchess Anne.

Josephine

Some other Fair, then. You whose name can nod
The flower of all the world’s virginity
Into your bed, will well take care of that!

(Spitefully.) She may not have a child, friend, after all.

Napoleon (drily) •

You hope she won’t, I know!—But don’t forget
Madame Walewska did, and had she shown
Such cleverness as yours, poor little fool,

Her withered husband might have been displaced,
And her boy made my heir.—Well, let that be.

The severing parchments will be signed by us
Upon the fifteenth, prompt.

326

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Josephine

What—I have to sign
My putting away upon the fifteenth next ?

Napoleon

Ay—both of us.

Josephine (falling on her knees)

So far advanced—so far!

Fixed ?—for the fifteenth ? O I do implore you,

My very dear one, by our old, old love,

By my devotion, don’t, don’t cast me off
Now, after these long years!

Napoleon

Heavens, how you jade me I
Must I repeat that I don’t cast you off;

We merely formally arrange divorce—

We live and love, but call ourselves divided.

A silence.

Josephine (with sudden calm)

Very well. Let it be. I must submit! (Rises.)

Napoleon

And this much likewise you must promise me,

To act in the formalities thereof

As if you shaped them of your own free will.

Josephine

How can I—when no freewill’s left in me ?

327

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Napoleon

You are a willing party—do you hear ?

Josephine (quivering)

I hardly—can—bear this!—It is—too much
For a poor weak and broken woman’s strength!
But—but I yield!—I am so helpless now ;

I give up all—ay, kill me if you will,

I won’t cry out!

Napoleon

And one thing further still,
You’ll help me in my marriage overtures
To win the Duchess—Austrian Marie she,—
Concentring all your force to forward them.

Josephine

It is the—last humiliating blow !—

I cannot—O, I will not!

Napoleon (fiercely)

But you shall\

And from your past experience you may know
That what I say I mean!

Josephine (breaking into sobs)

O my dear husband—do not make me—don’t!

If you but cared for me—the hundredth part
Of how—I care for you, you could not -be
So cruel as to lay this torture on me.

It hurts me so!—it cuts me like a sword.

Don’t make me, dear! Don’t, will you! 0,0,0!

(She sinks down in a hysterical fit.)

328

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Napoleon (calling)

Bausset!

Enter de Bausset, Chamberlain-in-waiting.

Bausset, come in and shut the door.

Assist me here. The Empress has fallen ill.

Don’t call for help. We two can carry her
By the small private staircase to her rooms.

Here—I will take her feet.

They lift Josephine between them and carry her out. Her
moans die away as they recede towards the stairs.

Enter two servants, who remove coffee-service, readjust chairs,
etc.

First Servant

So, poor old girl, she’s wailed her Miserere Mei, as
Mother Church says. I knew she was to get the sack
ever since he came back.

Second Servant

Well, there will be a little civil huzzaing, a little
crowing and cackling among the Bonapartes at the
downfall of the Beauharnais family at last, mark me
there will! They’ve had their little hour, as the poets
say, and now ’twill be somebody else’s turn. O it is
droll! Well, Father Time is a great philosopher, if
you take him right. Who is to be the new woman ?

First Servant

She that contains in her own corporation the
necessary particulars.

Second Servant
And what may they be ?

329

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

First Servant
She must be young.

Second Servant

Good. She must. The country must see to that.

First Servant
And she must be strong.

Second Servant

Good again. She must be strong. The doctors
will see to that.

First Servant

And she must be fruitful as the vine.

Second Servant

Ay, by God. She must be fruitful as the vine.
That, Heaven help him, he must see to himself, like
the meanest multiplying man in Paris.

[Exeunt servants.

Re-enter Napoleon with his stepdaughter, Queen Hortense.

Napoleon

Your mother is too rash and reasonless—

Wailing and fainting over statesmanship
Which is no personal caprice of mine,

But policy most painful—forced on me
By the necessities of this country’s charge.

Go to her; see if she be saner now ;

Explain it to her once and once again,

And bring me word what impress you may make.

330

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Hortense goes out. Champagny is shown in.

Champagny, I have something clear to say
'Now, on our process after the divorce.

The question of the Russian Duchess Anne
Was quite inept for further toying with.

The years rush on, and I grow nothing younger.
So I’ve made up my mind—committed me
To Austria and the Hapsburgs—good or ill!

It was the best, most practicable plunge,

And 1 have plunged it.

Champagny

Austria, say you, sire ?

I reckoned that but as a scurrying dream!

NxVPOLkON

Well, so it was. But such a pretty dream
That its own charm transfixed it to a notion,
That showed itself in time a sanity,

Which hardened in its turn to a resolve
As firm as any built by mortal mind.—

The Emperor's consent must needs be won ;
But I foresee no difficulty there.

The young Archduchess is a bright blond thing
By general story ; and considering, too,

That her good mother childed seventeen times,
Iowill be hard if she can fashion not
The modest one or two that I require.

Enter de Bausset with dispatches.

de Bausset

The courier, sire, from Petersburg is here,

And brings these letters for your Majesty.

[Exit de Bausset.

331

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Napoleon (after silently reading)

Ha-ha! It never rains unless it pours :

Now I can have the other readily.

The proverb hits me aptly : “Well they do
Who doff the old love ere they don the new! ”

(He glances again over the letter.)

Yes, Caulaincourt now writes he has every hope
Of quick success in settling the alliance!

The Tsar is willing—even is anxious for it,

His sister’s youth the single obstacle.

The Empress-mother, hitherto against me,
Ambition-fired, verges on suave consent,

Likewise the whole Imperial family.

What irony is all this to me now!

Time lately was when I had leapt thereat.

Champagny

You might, of course, sire, give th’ Archduchess up,
Seeing she looms uncertainly as yet,

While this does so no longer.

Napoleon

No—not I.

My sense of my own dignity forbids
My watching the slow clocks of Muscovy!

Why have they dallied with my tentatives
In pompous silence since the Erfurt day?

—And Austria, too, affords a safer hope.

The young Archduchess is much less a child
Than is the other, who, Caulaincourt says,

Will be incapable of motherhood

For six months yet or more—a grave delay.

Champagny

Your Majesty "appears to have trimmed your sail
For Austria; and no more is to be said!

332

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Napoleon

Except that there’s the house of Saxony
If Austria fail.—Then, very well, Champagny,
Write you to Caulaincourt accordingly.

Champagny

I will, your Majesty.

Re-enter Queen Hortense.

[Exit Champagny.

Napoleon

Ah, dear Hortense,

How is your mother now ?

Hortense

Calm ; quite calm, sire.
I pledge me you need have no further fret
From her entreating tears. She bids me say
That now, as always, she submits herself
With chastened dignity to circumstance,

And will descend, at notice, from your throne—

As in days earlier she ascended it—

In questionless obedience to your will.

It was your hand that crowned her; let it be
Likewise your hand that takes her crown away.

As for her children, we shall be but glad
T<£> follow and withdraw ourselves with her,

The tenderest mother children ever knew,

From grandeurs that have brought no happiness!

Napoleon (taking her hand)

But, Hortense, dear, it is not to be so!

You must stay with me, as I said before.

Your mother, too, must keep her royal state,

Since no repudiation stains this need.

333

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Equal magnificence will orb her round
In aftertime as now. A palace here,"

A palace in the country, wealth to match,

A rank in order next my future wife’s,

And conference with me as my truest friend.

Now we will seek her—Eugene, you, and I—

And make the project clear.

[Exeunt NapoiJon and Hortense.

The scene darkens and shuts.

SCENE III

VIENNA. A PRIVATE APARTMENT IN THE IMPERIAL

PALACE

The Emperor Francis discovered, paler than usual, and some¬
what flurried.

Enter Metternich the Prime Minister—a thin-lipped, long-nosed
man with inquisitive eyes.

Francis

I have been expecting you some minutes here,

The thing that fronts us brooking- brief delay.—
Well, what say you by now on this strange offer ^

Metternich

My views remain the same, your Majesty :

The policy of peace that I have upheld,

Both while in Paris and of late time here,

Points to this step as heralding sweet balm
And bandaged veins for our late crimsoned realm.

334

KCKNK 1U

PART SECOND

Francis

Agreed. As monarch I perceive therein
A happy doorway for my purposings.

It seems to guarantee the Hapsburg crown
A quittance of distractions such as those
I hat leave their shade on many a backward year
There is, forsooth, a suddenness about it,

And it would aid us had we clearly keyed
The cryptologues of which the world has heard
Between Napoleon and the Russian Court—
Begun there with the selfsame motiving.

Mettf.rnich

I would not, sire, one second ponder it.

It was an obvious first crude cast-about
In the important reckoning of means
For his great end, a strong monarchic line.

The more advanced the more it profits us ;

For sharper, then, the quashing of such views,
And wreck of that conjunction in the aims
Of France and Russia, marked so much of late
As jeopardizing quiet neighbours’ thrones.

Francis

If that be so, on the domestic side

There seems no bar. Speaking as father solely,

I s^je secured to her the proudest fate

That woman can daydream. And I could hope

That private bliss would not be wanting her!

Metternicii

A hope well seated, sire. The Emperor,
imperious and determined in his rule,

Is easy-natured in domestic life,

As my long time in Paris amply proved.

335

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Moreover, the accessories of his glory
Have been, and will be, admirably designed
To fire the fancy of a young princess.

Francis

Thus far you satisfy me. . . . So, to close,

Or not to close with him, is now the thing.

Metternich

Your Majesty commands the issue quite - :

The Father of his people can alone
In such a case give answer—yes or no.

Vagueness and doubt have ruined Russia’s chance ;
Let not, then, such be ours.

Francis

You mean, if I,

You’d answer straight. What would that answer be?
Metternich

In state affairs, sire, as in private life,

Times will arise when even the faithfullest squire
Finds him unfit to jog his chieftain’s choice,

On whom responsibility must lastly rest.

And such times are pre-eminently, sire,

Those wherein thought alone is not enough
To serve the head as guide. As Emperor,

As father, both, to you, to you in sole
Must appertain the privilege to pronounce
Which track stern duty bids you tread herein.

Francis

Affection is my duty, heart my guide.—

Without constraint or prompting I shall leave
The big decision in my daughter’s hands.

336

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Before my obligations to my people

Must stand hdr wish. Go, find her, Metternich,

Take her the tidings. She is free with you,

And will speak out.

(Looking forth upon the terrace.)

She’s here at hand, I see :

I’ll call her in. Then tell me what’s her mind.

He beckons from the window, and goes out in another direction.

Metternich

So much for form’s sake! Can the river-flower
The current drags, direct its face up-stream ?

What she must do she will; nought else at all.

Enter through one of the windows Maria Louisa in garden-
costume, fresh-coloured, girlish, and smiling. Metternich bends.

Maria Louisa

O how, dear Chancellor, you startled me!
Please pardon my so brusquely bursting in.

I saw you not.—Those five poor little birds '
That haunt out there beneath the pediment,
Snugly defended from the north-east wind,
Have lately disappeared. I sought a trace
Of scattered feathers, which I dread to find!

Metternich

They are gone, I ween, the way of tender flesh
At the assaults of winter, want, and foes.

Maria Louisa

It is too melancholy thinking, that!

Don’t say it.—But I saw the Emperor here ?
Surely he beckoned to me ?

337

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Metternich

Sure, he did,

Your gracious Highness ; and he has left me here
To break vast news that will make good his call.

Maria Louisa

Then do. I’ll listen. News from near or far ?

[She seats herself.

Metternich

From far—though of such distance-dwarfing might
That far may read as near eventually.

But, dear Archduchess, with your kindly leave
I’ll speak straight out. The Emperor of the French
Has sent to-day to make, through Schwarzenberg,

A formal offer of his heart and hand,

His honours, dignities, imperial throne,

To you, whom he admires above all those
The world can show elsewhere.

Maria Louisa (frightened)

My husband—he ?

What, an old man like him !

Metternich (cautiously)

He’s scarcely old,
Dear lady. True, deeds densely crowd in him ;
Turn months to years in calendaring his span ;
Yet by Time’s common clockwork he’s but young.

Maria Louisa

So wicked, too!

338

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Metternich (nettled)

Well—that’s a point of view.

Maria Louisa

But, Chancellor, think what things I have said of him!
Can women marry where they have taunted so ?

Metternich

Things ? Nothing inexpungeable, I deem,

By time and true good humour.

Maria Louisa

O I have!

Horrible things. Why—ay, a hundred times—

I have said I wished him dead! At that strained
hour

When the first voicings of the late war came,

Thrilling out how the French were smitten sore
And Bonaparte retreating, I clapped hands
And answered that I hoped he’d lose his head
As well as lose the battle !

Metternich

Words. But words!

Born like the bubbles of a spring that come
Of zftst for springing—aimless in theit shape.

Maria Louisa

It seems indecent, mean, to wed a man
Whom one has held such fierce opinions of!

Metternich

My much beloved Archduchess, and revered,

339

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Such things have been! In Spain and Portugal
Like enmities have led to intermarriage/

In England, after warring thirty years
The Red and White Rose wedded.

Maria Louisa (after a silence)

Tell me, now,

What does my father wish ?

Metternich

H is wish is yours.

Whatever your Imperial Highness feels
On this grave verdict of your destiny,

Home, title, future sphere, he bids you think
Not of himself, but of your own desire.

Maria Louisa (reflecting)

My wish is what my duty bids me wish.

Where a wide Empire’s welfare is in poise,

That welfare must be pondered, not my will.

I ask of you, then, Chancellor Metternich,

Straightway to beg the Emperor my father
That he fulfil his duty to the realm,

And quite subordinate thereto all thought
Of how it personally impinge on me.

A slight noise as of something falling is heard in the room.
They glance momentarily, and see that a small enamel portrait of
Marie Antoinette, which was standing on a console-table^ has
slipped down on its face.

Spirit of the Years

What mischief's this ? The Will must have Its way.
Spirit Sinister

Perhaps Earth shivered at the lady's say ?

340

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Shade of the Earth

I 'own thereto. When France and Austria wed
My echoes are men's groans, my dews are red;

So I have reason for a passing dread /

Metternich

Right nobly phrased, Archduchess ; wisely too.

I will acquaint your sire the Emperor

With these your views. He waits them anxiously.

(Going.)

Maria Louisa

Let me go first. It much confuses me
To think—But I would fain let thinking be!

[She goes out trembling.
Enter Francis by another door

Metternich

I was about to seek your Majesty.

The good Archduchess luminously holds
That in this weighty question you regard
The Empire. Best for it is best for her.

Francis (moved)

My daughter’s views thereon do not surprise me.

She is too staunch to pit a private whim
Against the fortunes of a commonwealth.

During your speech with her I have taken thought
To shape decision sagely. An assent
Would yield the Empire many years of peace,

And leave me scope to heal those still green sores
Which linger from our late unhappy moils.

Therefore, my daughter not being disinclined,

I know no basis for a negative.

34i

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Send, then, a courier prompt to Paris : ,say
The offer made for the Archduchess’ hand
I do accept—with this defined reserve,

That no condition, treaty, bond, attach
To such alliance save the tie itself.

There are some sacrifices whose grave rites
No bargain must contaminate. This is one—
This personal gift of a beloved child !

Metternich (leaving)

I’ll see to it this hour, your Majesty,

And cast the words in keeping with your wish.

(To himself as he goes)

Decently done! . . . He slipped out “sacrifice,”
And scarce could hide his heartache for his girl.
Well ached it!—But when these things have to be
It is as well to breast them stoically.

[Exit Metternich.
The clouds draw over.

SCENE IV

LONDON. A CLUB IN ST. JAMES’S STREET

A winter midnight. Two members are conversing by the fire,
and others are seen lolling in the background, some of them snoring.

First Member

I learn from a private letter that it was carried out
in the Emperor’s Cabinet at the Tuileries—just off
the throne-room, where they all assembled in the
evening,—Boney and the wife of his bosom (in pure

342

SCENE IV

PART SECOND

white muslin from head to foot, they say), the Kings
and Queens bf Holland, Westphalia, and Naples, the
Priflcess Pauline, and one or two more; the officials
present being Cambaceres the Chancellor, and Count
Reo-naud. Quite a small party. It was over m a few
minutes—short and sweet, like a donkey s gallop.

Second Member

Anything but sweet for her. How did she stand it?

First Member

Serenely, I believe, while the Emperor was making
his speech renouncing her ; but when it came to her
turn to say she renounced him she began sobbing
mightily, and was so completely choked up that she
couldn’t get out a word.

Second Member

Poor old dame! I pity her, by God:; though she
had a rattling good spell while it lasted.

First Member

They say he was a bit upset, too, at sight of her
tears. But I dare vow that was put on. Pancy
Boney caring a curse what a woman feels. S e a .
lea?“nt her speech by heart, but that did not e p er .
Regnaud had to finish it for her, the ditch that over¬
turned her being where she was made to say that she
no longer preserved any hope of having children, and
that she was pleased to show her attachment by
enabling him to obtain them by another woman.
She was led off fainting. A turning of the tables,
considering how madly jealous she used to make him
by her flirtations!

3 Enter a third member.

343

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Second Member

How is the debate going ? Still braying" the
Government in a mortar ?

Third Member

They are. Though one thing everybody admits :
young Peel has made a wonderful first speech in
seconding the address. There has been nothing like
it since Pitt. He spoke rousingly of Austria’s
misfortunes—went on about Spain, of course, showing
that we must still go on supporting her, winding up
with a brilliant peroration about—what were the
words—“the fiery glance of freedom which flashed
incessantly from the indignant eyes of the British
soldier! ”—Oh, well: it was all learnt beforehand,
of course.

Second Member

I wish I had gone down. But the wind soon blew
the other way ?

Third Member

Then Gower rapped out his amendment. That
was good, too, by God.

Second Member

Well, the war must go on. And that being the
general conviction this censure and that censure are
only so many blank cartridges. r

Third Member

Blank ? Damn me, were they! Gower’s was a
palpable hit when he said that Parliament had placed
unheard-of resources in the hands of Ministers last year,
to make this year s results to the country worse than
if they had been afforded no resources at all. Every
single enterprise of theirs had been a beggarly failure.

344

SCENE IV

PART SECOND

Second Member

Anybody could have said it, come to that.

Third Member

Yes, because it is so true. However, when he
began to lay on with such rhetoric as “ the treasures
of the nation lavished in wasteful thoughtlessness,”—
“thousands of our troops sacrificed wantonly in the
pestilential swamps of Walcheren,” and gave the
details we know so well, Ministers wriggled a good
one, though ’twas no news to ’em. Castlereagh kept
on starting forward as if he were going to jump up and
interrupt, taking the strictures entirely as a personal
affront.

Enter a fourth member.

Several Members

Who’s speaking now ?

Fourth Member

I don’t know. I have heard of nobody later than
Ward.

Second Member

The fact is that, as Whitbread said to me to-day,
the materials for condemnation are so prodigious that
we«an scarce marshal them into argument. We are
just able to pour ’em out one upon t’other.

Third Member

Ward said, with the blandest air in the world:
“ Censure ? Do his Majesty’s Ministers expect
censure? Not a bit. They are going about asking
in tremulous tones if anybody has heard when their
impeachment is going to begin.”

345

THE DYNASTS

Several Members
Haw-haw-haw!

Third Member

Then he made another point. After enumerating
our frightful failures—Spain, Walcheren, and the rest
—he said: “ But Ministers have not failed in every¬
thing. No; in one thing they have been strikingly
successful. They have been successful in their attack
upon Copenhagen—because it was directed against an
ally ! ” Mighty fine, wasn’t it?

Second Member

How did Castlereagh stomach that ?

Third Member

He replied then. Donning his air of injured
innocence he proved the honesty of his intentions—
no doubt truly enough. But when he came to
Walcheren nothing could be done. The case was
hopeless, and he knew it, and foundered. However,
at the division, when he saw what a majority was
going out on his side he was as frisky as a child.
Canning’s speech was grave, with bits of shiny orna¬
ment stuck on — like the brass nails on a coffin,
Sheridan says.

Fifth and sixth members stagger in, arm-and-arm.

Fifth Member

The ’vision is—’jority of ninety-six againsht—
Gov’ment—I mean—againsht us. Which is it—hey ?

(To his companion.)

Sixth Member

Damn majority of—damn ninety-six—against damn
amendment!

(They sink down on a sofa.'
346

SCENE IV

PART SECOND

Second Member

Gad, I didn’t expect the figure would have been
quite so high!

Third Member

The one conviction is that the war in the Peninsula
is to go on, and as we are all agreed upon that, what
the hell does it matter what their majority is ? '

Enter Sheridan. They all turn inquiringly.

Sheridan

Have ye heard the latest ?

Second Member

Ninety-six against us.

Sheridan

O no—that’s ancient history. I’d forgot it.

Third Member

A revolution, because Ministers are not impeached
and hanged ?

Sheridan

That’s in contemplation, when we’ve got their
confessions. But what I meant was from over the
wa ter—it is a deuced sight more serious to us than a
debate and division that are only like the Liturgy on
a Sunday—known beforehand to all the congregation.
Why, Bonaparte is going to marry Austria forthwith
—the Emperor’s daughter Maria Louisa.

Third Member

The Lord look down! Our late respected crony
Austria! Why, in this very night’s debate they have
been talking about the laudable principles we have

347

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

been acting upon in affording assistance to the
Emperor Francis in his struggle against the violence
and ambition of France!

Second Member

Boney safe on that side, what may not befall!

Third Member

We had better make it up with him, and shake
hands all round.

Second Member

Shake heads seems most natural in the case. O
House of Hapsburg, how hast thou fallen!

Enter Whitbread, Lord Hutchinson, Lord George Caven¬
dish, George Ponsonby, Windham, Lord Grey, Baring, Elliot,
and other members, some drunk. The conversation becomes
animated and noisy; several move off to the card-room, and the
scene closes.

SCENE V

THE OLD WEST HIGHWAY OUT OF VIENNA

The spot is where the road passes under the slopes of the Wiener
Wald, with its beautiful forest scenery.

DUMB SHOW

A procession of enormous length, composed of eighty carriages
—many of them drawn by six horses and one by eight—and escorted
by detachments of cuirassiers, yeomanry, and other cavalry, is
quickening its speed along the highway from the city.

The six-horse carriages contain a multitude of Court officials,
ladies of the Court, and other Austrian nobility. The eight-horse
coach contains a rosy, blue-eyed girl of eighteen, with full red lips,
round figure, and pale auburn hair. She is Maria Louisa, and her
eyes are red from recent weeping. The Countess de Lazansky,
Grand Mistress of the Household, in the carriage with her, and the

34.8

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

other ladies of the Palace behind, have a pale, proud, yet resigned
look, as if conscious that upon their sex had been laid the burden of
paying for the peace with France. They have been played out of
"VJienna with French inarches, and the trifling incident has helped on
their sadness.

The observer’s vision being still bent on the train of vehicles and
cavalry, the point of sight is withdrawn high into the air, till the
huge procession on the brown road looks no more than a file of ants
crawling along a strip of garden-matting. The spacious terrestrial
outlook now gained shows this to be the great road across Europe
from Vienna to Munich, and from Munich westerly to France.

The puny concatenation of specks being exclusively watched,
the surface of the earth seems to move along in an opposite direction,
and in infinite variety of hill, dale, woodland, and champaign.
Bridges are crossed, ascents are climbed, plains are galloped over,
and towns are reached, among them Saint Polten, where night falls.

Morning shines, and the royal crawl is resumed, and continued
through Linz, where the Danube is reapproached, and the girl looks
pleased to see her own dear Donau still. Presently the tower of
Braunau appears, where the animated dots pause for formalities,
this being the frontier ; and Maria Louisa becomes Marie Louise
and a Frenchwoman, in the charge of French officials.

After many breaks and halts, during which heavy rains spread
their gauzes over the scene, the roofs and houses of Munich disclose
themselves, suggesting the tesserae of an irregular mosaic. A long
stop is made here.

The tedious advance continues. Vine-circled Stuttgart, flat
Carlsruhe, the winding Rhine, storky Strassburg, pass in panorama
beneath us as the procession is followed. With Nancy and Bar-le-
Duc sliding along, the scenes begin to assume a French character,
and soon we perceive'Chalons and ancient Rheims. The last day
<if the journey has dawned. Our vision flits ahead of the cortege
to Courcelles, a little place which must be passed through before
Soissons is reached. Here the point of sight descends to earth,
and the Dumb Show ends.

SCENE VI

COURCELLES

It is now seen to be a quiet roadside village, with a humble
church in its midst, opposite to which stands an inn, the highway
passing between them. Rain is still falling heavily. Not a soul
visible anywhere.

349

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Enter from the west a plain, lonely carriage, travelling in a
direction to meet the file of coaches that we have watched. It stops
near the inn, and two men muffled in cloaks alight by the door^away
from the hostel and towards the church, as if they wished to avoid
observation. Their faces are those of Napoleon and Murat his
brother-in-law. Crossing the road through the mud and ram they
stand in the church porch, and watch the descending drifts.

Napoleon (stamping an impatient tattoo)

One gets more chilly in a wet March, however mild,
than in a dry, however cold, the devil if he don’t!
What time do you make it now ? That clock doesn’t

g°-

Murat (drily, looking at his watch)

Yes, it does ; and it is right. If clocks were to go
as fast as your wishes just now it would be awkward
for the rest of the world.

Napoleon (chuckling good-humouredly)

How we have dished the Soissons folk, with their
pavilions, and purple and gold hangings for bride and
bridegroom to meet in, and stately ceremonial to
match, and their thousands looking on ! Here we are
where there’s nobody. Ha, ha!

Murat

But why should they be dished, sire? The
pavilions and ceremonies were by your own orders.

Napoleon

Well, as the time got nearer I couldn’t stand the
idea of dawdling about there.

Murat

The Soissons people will be in a deuce of a taking
at being made such fools of!

350

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

Napoleon

So let ’em. I’ll make it up with them somehow.—
Siie can’t be far off now, if we have timed her rightly.
(He peers out into the rain and listens.)

Murat

I don’t quite see how you are going to manage
when she does come. Do we go before her towards
Soissons when you have greeted her here, or follow in
her rear ? Or what do we do ?

Napoleon

Heavens, I know no more than you! Trust to
the moment and see what happens. (A silence.) Hark
—here she comes ! Good little girl! Up to time!

The distant squashing in the mud of a multitude of hoofs and
wheels is succeeded by the appearance of outriders and carriages,
horses and horsemen, splashed with sample clays of the districts
traversed. The vehicles slow down to the inn. Napoleon’s face
fires up, and, followed by Murat, he rushes into the rain towards
the coach that is drawn by eight horses, containing the blue-eyed
girl. He holds off his hat at the carriage-window.

Marie Louise (shrinking back inside)

Ah, Heaven! Two highwaymen are upon us!

The Equerry d’Audenarde (simultaneously)

The Emperor!

The steps of the coach are hastily lowered, Napoleon, dripping,
jumps in and embraces her. The startled Archduchess, with
much blushing and confusion, recognizes him.

Marie Louise (tremulously, as she recovers herself)

You are so much — better looking than your
portraits—that I hardly knew you! I expected you at
Soissons. We are not at Soissons yet?

35 1

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Napoleon

No, my dearest spouse, but we are together!
(Calling out to the equerry.) Drive through Soissons—pass
the pavilion of reception without stopping, and don’t
halt till we reach Compiegne.

He sits down in the coach and is shut in, Murat laughing
silently at the scene. Exeunt carriages and riders towards Soissons.

Chorus of Ironic Spirits (aerial music)

First 'twas a finished coquette ,

And now it's a raw ingenue .—

Blonde instead of brunette,

An old wife doffed for a new.

She'll bring him a baby.

As quickly as maybe,

And that's what he wants her to do,

Hoo-hoo /

And that’s what he wants her to do !

Spirit of the Years

What lewdness lip those wry-formedphantoms there ?
Ironic Spirits

Nay, Showman Years ! With holy reverent air
We hymn the nuptials of the Imperial pair.

The rain thickens to a mist and obscures the scene.

SCENE VII

PETERSBURG. THE PALACE OF THE EMPRESS-MOTHER

_One of the private apartments is disclosed, in which the

Empress-mother and Alexander are seated.

352

VII

PART SECOND

Empress-Mother

So one of Austrian blood his pomp selects
To be his bride and bulwark—not our own.
Thus are you coolly shelved!

Alexander

Me, mother dear ?

You, faith, if I may say it dutifully!

Had all been left to me, some time ere now
He would have wedded Kate.

Empress-Mother

How so, my son ?

Catharine was plighted, and it could not be.

Alexander

Rather you swiftly pledged and married her,

To let Napoleon have no chance that way.

But Anne remained.

Empress-Mother

How Anne P—so young a girl!
Sane Nature would have cried indecency
At such a troth.

Alexander

Time would have tinkered that,
And he was well-disposed to wait awhile ;

But the one test he had no temper for
Was the apparent slight of unresponse
Accorded his impatient overtures
By our suspensive poise of policy.

353

2 A

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Empress-Mother

A backward answer is our country’s card—

The special style and mode of Muscovy.

We have grown great upon it, my dear son,

And may such practice rule our centuries through !
The necks of those who rate themselves our peers
Are cured of stiffness by its potency.

Alexander

The principle in this case, anyhow,

Is shattered by the facts: since none can doubt
Your policy was counted an affront,

And drove my long ally to Austria’s arms,

With what result to us must yet be seen!

Empress-Mother

May Austria win much joy of the alliance!
Marrying Napoleon is a midnight leap
For any Court in Europe, credit me,

If ever such there were! What he may carve
Upon the coming years, what murderous bolt
Hurl at the rocking Constitutions round,

On what dark planet he may land himself
In his career through space, no sage can say.
One thing we may assume as certainty—

That he will never rest in righteous rule.

Alexander

Well—possibly! . . . And maybe all is best
That he engrafts his lineage not on us.—
But, honestly, Napoldon none the less
Has been my friend, and I regret the dream
And fleeting fancy of a closer tie!

354

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Empress-Mother

Ay* ;*your regrets are sentimental ever.

That he’ll be writ no son-in-law of mine
Is no regret to me! But an affront
There is, no less, in his evasion on’t,

Wherein the bourgeois quality of him
Veraciously peeps out. I would be sworn
He set his minions parleying with the twain—
Yourself and Francis—simultaneously,

Else no betrothal could have speeded so!

Alexander

Despite the hazard of offence to one ?

Empress-Mother
More than the hazard ; the necessity.

Alexander

There’s no offence to me.

Empress-Mother

There should be, then.

I am a Romanoff by marriage merely,

Buj I do feel a rare belittlement
And loud laconic brow-beating herein!

Alexander

No, mother, no! I am the Tsar—not you,

And I am only piqued in moderateness.

Marriage with France was near my heart—I own it—
What then ? It has been otherwise ordained.

[A silence.

355

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

E MPRESS- M OTHER

Here comes dear Anne. Speak not of it before -her.
Enter the Grand-Duchess, a girl of sixteen.

Anne

Alas! the news is that poor Prussia’s queen,

Spirited Queen Louisa, once so fair,

Is slowly dying, mother! Did you know ?

Alexander (betraying emotion)

Ah!—such I dreaded from the earlier hints.

Poor soul—her heart was slain some time aero.

Anne

What do you mean by that, my brother dear ?
Empress-Mother

He means, my child, that he as usual spends
Much sentiment upon the foreign fair,

And hence leaves little for his folk at home.

Alexander

I mean, Anne, that her country’s overthrow
Let death into her heart. The Tilsit days
Taught me to know her well, and honour her.
She was a lovely woman even then! . . .
Strangely, the present English Prince of Wales
Was wished to husband her. Had wishes won.
They might have varied Europe’s history.

Anne

Napoldon, I have heard, admired her once ;
now he must grieve that soon she’ll be no more!

35<5

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Empress-Mother

Napoleon and your brother loved her both.

[Alexander shows embarrassment.

But whatsoever grief be Alexander’s,

His will be none who feels but for himself.

Anne

O mother, how can you mistake him so!

He worships her who is to be his wife,

The fair Archduchess Marie.

Empress-Mother

Simple child,

As yet he has never seen her, or but barely.

That is a tactic suit, with love to match!

Alexander (with vainly veiled tenderness)

High-souled Louisa;—when shall I forget

Those Tilsit gatherings in the long-sunned June! . . .

Napoleon’s gallantries deceived her quite,

Who fondly felt her pleas for Magdeburg
Had won him to its cause ; the while, alas!

His cynic sense but posed in cruel play!

Empress-Mother

Bitterly mourned she her civilities

Wffen time unlocked the truth, that she had choked

Her indignation at his former slights

And slanderous sayings for a baseless hope,

And wrought no tittle for her country’s gain.

I marvel why you mourn a frustrate tie
With one whose wiles could wring a woman so!

Alexander (uneasily)

I marvel also, when I think of it!

357

ACT V

THE DYNASTS

Empress-Mother

Don’t listen to us longer, dearest Anne.

[Exit Anns.

—You will uphold my judging by and by,

That as a suitor we are well quit of him,

And that blind Austria will rue the hour
Wherein she plucks for him her fairest flower!

The scene shuts.

SCENE VIII

PARIS. THE GRAND GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE
AND THE SALON-CARRE ADJOINING

The view is up the middle of the Gallery, which is now a
spectacle of much magnificence. Backed by the large paintings on
the walls are double rows on each side of brightly dressed ladies,
the pick of Imperial society, to the number of four thousand, one
thousand in each row; and behind these standing up are two rows
on each side of men of privilege and fashion. Officers of the
Imperial Guard are dotted about as marshals.

Temporary barriers form a wide passage up the midst, leading to
the Salon-Carr£, which is seen through the opening to be fitted up
as a chapel, with a gorgeous altar, tall candles, and cross. In front
of the altar is a platform with a canopy over it. On the platform
are two gilt chairs and a prie-dieu.

The expectant assembly does not continuously remain in the
seats, but promenades and talks, the voices at times rising to a din
amid the strains of the orchestra, conducted by the Empehor’s
Director of Music. Refreshments in profusion are handed round,
and the extemporized cathedral resolves itself into a gigantic caffi of
persons of distinction under the Empire.

Spirit Sinister

All day have they been waiting for their galanty-
show , and now the hour of performance is on the strike.
It m ay be seasonable to muse on the sixteenth Louis and
the bride's great-aunt , as the nearing procession is, I

358

Scene viii PART SECOND

see, appositely grossing the track of the tumbril which
'zvas the last coach of that respected lady. ... It is now
passing over the site of the scaffold on which she lost her
Iz8ad. . , . Now it will soon be here.

Suddenly the heralds enter the Gallery at the end towards the
Tuileries, the spectators ranging themselves in their places. In a
pipment the wedding procession of the Emperor and Empress
Becomes visible. The civil marriage having already been performed,
Napoleon and Marie Louise advance together along the vacant
pathway towards the Salon-Carrd, followed by the long suite of
illustrious personages, and acclamations burst from all parts of the
Grand Gallery.

Spirit of the Pities

Whose are those forms that pair in pompous train
IBehind the hand-in-hand half-wedded ones,

With faces speaking sense of an adventure
Which may close well, or not so ?

Recording Angel (reciting)

First there walks

IThe Emperors brother Louis, Holland's King;

Then Jdrbme of Westphalia with his spouse ;

Fhe mother-queen, and Julie Queen of Spain,

Fhe Prince Borghese and the Princess Pauline,
Beauhamais the Vice-King of Italy,

And Murat King of Naples, with their Queens ;
Baden!s Grand-Duke, Arch-Chancellor Cambacdres,
Berthier, Lebrun, and, not least, Talleyrand.

Then the Grand Marshal and the Chamberlain,

Fhe Lords-in-Waiting, the Grand Equerry,

With waiting-ladies, women of the chamber,

And others called by office, rank, or fame.

Spirit of Rumour

Mew, many, to Imperial dignities;

Which, won by character and quality
In those who now enjoy them, will become
Fhe birthright of their sons in aftertime.

359

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Spirit of the Years

It fits thee not to augur, quick-eared Shade.

Ephemeral at the best all honours be,

These even more ephemeral than their kind,

So random-fashioned, swift, perturbable !

Spirit of the Pities
Napoleon looks content — nay, shines with joy.

Spirit of the Years

Yet see it pass, as by a conjurors wand.

Thereupon Napoleon’s face blackens as if the shadow of a winter
night had fallen upon it. Resentful and threatening, he stops the
procession and looks up and down the benches.

Spirit Sinister

This is sound artistry of the Immanent Will: it
relieves the monotony of so much good-humour.

Napoleon (to the Chapel-master)

Where are the Cardinals ? And why not here ?

(He speaks so loud that he is heard throughout the Gallery.)

Abb£ de Pradt (trembling)

Many are present here, your Majesty ;

But some are feebled by infirmities

Too common to their age, and cannot come.

Napoleon

Tell me no nonsense! Half absent themselves
Because they will not come. The factious fools!
Well, be it so. But they shall flinch for it!

- j “Marie Louise looks frightened. The procession moves bn.

360

SCENE Till

PART SECOND

Spirit of the Pities

I seejn to see the thin and headless ghost
Of the yet earlier Austrian, here, too, queen,

Walking beside the bride, with frail attempts
To pluck her by the arm !

Spirit of the Years

Nay, think not so.

No trump unseals earths sepulchres to-day :

We are the only phantoms now abroad

On this mud-moulded ball! Through sixteen years

She has decayed in a back-garden yonder,

Dust all the showance time retains of her,

Senseless of bustlings in her former house,

Lost to all count of crowns and bridalry —

Even of her Austrian blood. No : what thou seest
Springs of thy quavering fancy, stirred to dreams
By yon tart phantoms phrase.

Marie Louise (sadly to Napoleon)

I know not why,

I love not this day’s doings half so well
As our quaint meeting-time at Compiegne.

A clammy air creeps round me, as from vaults
Peopled with looming spectres, chilling me
And angering you withal!

Napoleon

O, it is nought
To trouble you : merely, my cherished one,

Those devils of Italian Cardinals!—

Now I’ll be bright as ever—you must, too.

Marie Louise

I’ll try.

Reaching the entrance to the Salon-Carre amid strains of jjuisjc^
the Emperor and Empress are received and incensed by the"

361

THE DYNASTS act v

Cardinal Grand Almoners. They take their seats under the
canopy, and the train of notabilities seat themselves further back, the
persons-in-waiting stopping behind the Imperial chairs.

The ceremony of the religious marriage now begins. The'choy:
intones a hymn, the Emperor and Empress go to the altar, remove
their gloves, and make their vows.

Spirit Ironic

The English Church should return thanks for this
wedding , seeing how it will purge of coarseness the
picture-sheets of that artistic nation , which will hardly
be able to caricature the new wife as it did poor plebeian
Josephine. Such starched and ironed monarchists
cannot sneer at a woman of such a divinely dry and
crusted line as the Hapsburgs !

Mass is next celebrated, after which the Te Deum is chanted in
harmonies that whirl round the walls of the Salon-Carrd and quiver
down the long Gallery. The procession then re-forms and returns,
amid the flutterings and applause of the dense assembly. But
Napoleon’s face has not lost the sombre expression which settled on
it. The pair and their train pass out by the west door, and the
congregation disperses in the other direction, the cloud-curtain
closing over the scene as they disappear.

362

ACT SIXTH

SCENE I

THE LINES OF TORRES V&DRAS

A btrd’s-eye perspective is revealed of the peninsular tract of
Portuguese territory lying between the shining pool of the Tagus on
the east, and the white-frilled Atlantic lifting rhythmically on the
west. As thus beheld the tract features itself somewhat like a vair-
shaped shield, the upper edge from the dexter to the sinister chief
being the lines of Torres Vedras, stretching across from the mouth ot
the Zezambre on the left to Alhandra on the right, and the south or
base point being Fort S. Julian. The roofs of Lisbon appear at the
sinister base, and in a corresponding spot on the opposite side

Cape Roca. , . •,

It is perceived in a moment that the northern verge of this near y
coast-hemmed region is the only one through which access can be
gamed to it by land, and a close scrutiny of the boundary there
reveals that means are being adopted to effectually prevent such
access*

From east to west along it runs a chain of defences, dotted at
intervals by dozens of circular and square redoubts, either made or in
the making , two of the latter being of enormous size. Between these
stretch unclimbable escarpments, stone walls, and other breastworks,
and *in front of all a double row of abattis, formed of the limbs

Wj thin the outer line of defence is a second, constructed on the
same principle, its course being bent to take advantage of natural
features. This second rampart is finished, and appears to be

impregnated defence ig far off sout hward, girdling the very base
point of the shield-shaped tract of country; and is not more than a
twelfth of the length of the others. It is a continuous entrenchment
of ditches and ramparts, and its object-that of covering a forced
embarkation—is rendered apparent by some rocking English
transports off the shore hard by.

363

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

DUMB SHOW

Innumerable human figures are busying themselves like cheese-
mites all along the northernmost frontage, undercutting easy slopes
into steep ones, digging ditches, piling stones, felling trees, dragging
them, and interlacing them along the front as required.

On the second breastwork, which is completed, only a few
figures move. ^

On the third breastwork, which is fully matured and equipped,
minute red sentinels creep backwards and forwards noiselessly.

As time passes three reddish-grey streams of marching men loom
out to the north, advancing southward along three roads towards
three diverse points in the first defence. These form the English
army, entering the lines for shelter. Looked down upon, their
motion seems peristaltic and vermicular, like that of three cater¬
pillars. The division on the left is under Picton, in the centre under
Leith and Cole, and on the extreme right, by Alhandra, under Hill.
Beside one of the roads two or three of the soldiers are dangling from
a tree by the neck, probably for plundering.

The Dumb Show ends, and the point of view sinks to the earth.

SCENE II

THE SAME. OUTSIDE THE LINES

The winter day has gloomed to a stormful evening, and the road
outside the first line of defence forms the foreground of the stage.

Enter in the dusk from the hills to the north of the entrenchment,
near Calandrix, a group of horsemen, which includes Mass^na, in
command of the French forces, Foy, Loison, and other offices of
his staff.

They ride forward in the twilight and tempest, and reconnoitre,
till they see against the sky the ramparts blocking the road they
pursue. They halt silently. Mass£na, puzzled, endeavours with his
glass to make out the obstacle.

Mass£na

Something stands here to peril our advance,
Or even prevent it!

364

SCENE II

PART SECOND

Foy

These are the English lines—
Their outer horns and tusks—whereof I spoke,
Constructed by Lord Wellington of late
To keep his foothold firm in Portugal.

Mass^na

Thrusts he his burly, bossed disfigurements
So far to north as this ? I had pictured me
They lay much nearer Lisbon. Little strange
Lord Wellington rode placid at Busaco
With this behind his back! Well, it is hard
But that we turn them somewhere, I assume ?

They scarce can close up every southward gap
Between the Tagus and the Atlantic Sea.

Foy

I hold they can, and do ; although, no doubt,

By searching we shall spy some raggedness
Which customed skill may force.

Mass£na

Plain ’tis, no less,

We may heap corpses vainly hereabout,

And crack good bones in waste. By human power
This passes mounting! What say you’s behind ?

Loison

Another line exactly like the first,

But more matured. Behind its back a third.

Mass£na

How long have these prim ponderosities
Been rearing up their foreheads to the moon ?

365

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Loison

Some months in all. I know not quite how long-:
They are Lord Wellington’s select device,

And, like him, heavy, slow, laborious, sure.

Mass£na

May he enjoy their sureness. He deserves to.

I had no inkling of such barriers here.

A good road runs along their front, it seems,

Which offers us advantage. . . . What a night!

The tempest cries dismally about the earthworks above them, as
the reconnoitrers linger in the slight shelter the lower ground affords.
They are about to turn back. c

Enter from the cross-road to the right Junot and some more
officers. They come up at a signal that the others are those they
lately parted from.

Junot

We have ridden along as far as Calandrix,

Favoured therein by this disordered night,

Which tongues its language to the disguise of ours ;
And find amid the vale an open route
That, well manoeuvred, may be practicable.

Mass£na

I’ll look now at it, while the weather aids.

If it may serve our end when all’s prepared
So good. If not, some other to the west.

Exeunt Mass£na, Junot, Loison, Foy, and the rest by the
paved crossway to the right.

The wind continues to prevail as the spot is left desolate, the
darkness increases, rain descends more heavily, and the scene is
blotted out.

366

SCENE III

PART SECOND

SCENE III

PARIS. THE TUILERIES

The anteroom to the Empress Marie Louise’s bed-chamber, in
which are discovered Napoleon in his dressing-gown, the Duchess
of Montebello, and other Iadies-in-waiting, Corvisart the first
physician, and the second physician Bourdier.

The time is before dawn. The Emperor walks up and down,
throws himself on a sofa, or stands at the window. A cry of anguish
comes occasionally from within.

Napoleon opens the door and speaks into the bed-chamber.

Napoleon

How now, Dubois ?

Voice of Dubois the Accoucheur (nervously)

Less well, sire, than I hoped;

I fear no skill can save them both.

Napoleon (agitated)

Good God!

Exit Corvisart into the bed-room. Enter Dubois.

Dubois (with hesitation)

Which life is to be saved ? The Empress, sire,

Lies in great jeopardy. I have not known
In my long years of many-featured practice
An instance in a thousand fall out so.

Napoleon

Then save the mother, pray! Think but of her ;

It is her privilege, and my command.—

367

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Don’t lose your head, Dubois, at this ti^ht time :

Your furthest skill can work but what it may.

Fancy that you are merely standing by
A shop-wife’s couch, say, in the Rue Saint Denis;
Show the aplomb and phlegm that you would show
Did such a bed receive your ministry.

[Exit DuBog,

Voice of Marie Louise (faintly within)

O pray, pray don’t! Those ugly things terrify
me! Why should I be tortured even if I am but a
means to an end! Let me die! It was cruel of him
to bring this upon me !

Exit Napoleon impatiently to the bed-room.

Voice of Madame de Montesquiou (within)

Keep up your spirits, madame! I have been
through it myself, and I assure you there is no danger
to you. It is going on all right, and I am holding you.

Voice of Napoleon (within)

Heaven above! Why did you not keep those
cursed sugar-tongs out of her sight? How is she
going to get through it if you frighten her like this ?

Voice of Dubois (within)

If you will pardon me, your Majesty,

I must implore you not to interfere!

I’ll not be scapegoat for the consequence
If, sire, you do! Better for her sake far
Would you withdraw. The sight of your concern
But agitates and weakens her endurance.

I will inform you all, and call you back
If things should worsen here.

B-e-enter Napoleon from the bed-chamber. He half shuts the
door, and remains close to it listening, pale and nervous.

368

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Bourdier

I ask you, sire,

To harass yourself less with this event,

Which may amend anon : I much regret
The honoured mother of your Majesty,

And sister too, should both have left ere now,
whose solace would have bridged these anxious hours.

Napoleon (absently)

As we were not expecting it so soon
I begged they would sit up no longer here. . . .

She ought to get along; she has help enough
With that half-dozen of them at hand within—

Skilled Madame Blaise the nurse, and two besides,
Madame de Montesquiou and Madame Ballant-

Dubois (speaking through the doorway)

Past is the question, sire, of which to save!

The child is dead ; the while her Majesty
Is getting through it well.

Napoleon

Praise Heaven for that!

I’ll not grieve overmuch about the child. . . .

Never shall she go through this strain again
To lay down a dynastic line for me.

Duchess of Montebello (aside to second lady)

He only says that now. In cold blood it would be
far otherwise. That’s how men are.

Voice of Madame Blaise (within)

Doctor, the child’s alive!

(The cry of an infant is heard.)

369 2 B

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Voice of Dubois (calling from within)

Sire, both are saved.

Napoleon rushes into the chamber, and is heard kissing Marie
Louise.

Voice of Madame Blaise (within)

A vigorous boy, your Imperial Majesty. The
brandy and hot napkins brought him to.

Duchess of Montebello

It is as I expected. A healthy young woman of
her build had every chance of doing well, despite the
doctors.

An interval.

Napoleon (re-entering radiantly)

We have achieved a healthy heir, good dames,

And in the feat the Empress was most brave,
Although she suffered much—so much, indeed,

That I would sooner father no more sons
Than have so fair a fruit-tree undergo
Another wrenching of such magnitude.

He walks to the window, pulls aside the curtains, and looks out
It is a joyful spring morning. The Tuileries’ gardens are thronged
with an immense crowd, kept at a little distance off the Palace by a
cord. The windows of the neighbouring houses are full of gazer?, and
the streets are thronged with halting carriages, their inmates awaiting
the event.

Spirit of the Years (whispering to Napoleon)

At this high hour there broods a woman nigh,

Ay, here in Paris, with her child and thine ,

Who might have played this part with truer eye
To thee and to thy contemplated line /

370

SCENE III

PART SECOND

Napoleon (soliloquizing)-

Strange that just now there flashes on my soul
Thai* little one I loved in Warsaw days,

Marie Walewska, and my boy by her!—

She was shown faithless by a foul intrigue
Till fate sealed up her opportunity. . . .

But what’s one woman’s fortune more or less
Beside the schemes of kings!—Ah, there’s the news!

A gun is heard from the Invalides.

Crowd (excitedly)

One!

Another report of the gun, and another, succeed.

Two! Three ! Four!

The firing and counting proceed to twenty-one, when there is
great suspense. The gun fires again, and the excitement is doubled.

Twenty-two ! A boy!

The remainder of the counting up to a hundred-and-one is
drowned in huzzas. Bells begin ringing, and from the Champ de
Mars a balloon ascends, from which the tidings are scattered in
hand-bills as it floats away across France.

Enter the President of the Senate, Cambac£r£s, Berthier,
Lebrun, and other officers of state. Napoleon turns from the
window.

Cambac£r£:s

Unstinted gratulations and goodwill

^CVe bring to your Imperial Majesty,

While still resounds the superflux of joy

With which your people welcome this Hve star

Upon the horizon of our history!

President of Senate

All blessings at their goodliest will grace
The advent of this New Messiah, sire,

37i

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Of fairer prospects than the former one,

Whose coming at so apt an hour endues
The widening glory of your high exploits
With permanence, and flings the dimness far
That cloaked the future of our chronicle!

Napoleon

My thanks ; though, gentlemen, upon my soul
You might have drawn the line at the Messiah.
But I excuse you.—Yes, the boy has come;

He took some coaxing, but he’s here at last.—
And what news brings the morning from without ?
I know of none but this the Empress now
Trumps to the world from the adjoining room.

President of Senate

Nothing in Europe, sire, that can compare
In magnitude therewith to more effect
Than with an eagle some frail finch or wren.

To wit: the ban on English trade prevailing,
Subjects our merchant-houses to such strain
That many of the best see bankruptcy
Like a grim ghost ahead. Next week, they say
In secret here, six of the largest close.

Napoleon

It shall not be! Our burst of natal joy
Must not be sullied by so mean a thing:

Aid shall be rendered. Much as we may suffer,
England must suffer more, and I am content.
What has come in from Spain and Portgual ?

Berthier

Vaguely-voiced rumours, sire, but nothing more,
Which travel countries quick as earthquake-thrills,
*No fnortal knowing how.

372

SCENE in

PART SECOND

Napoleon

Of Mass6na ?

Berthier

Yea. He retreats for prudence’ sake, it seems,

Before Lord Wellington. Dispatches soon
Must reach your Majesty, explaining all.

Napoleon

Ever retreating! Why declines he so
From all his olden prowess ? Why, again,

Did he give battle at Busaco lately,

When Lisbon could be marched on without strain ?
Why has he dallied by the Tagus bank
And shunned the obvious course? I gave him Ney,
Soult, and Junot, and eighty thousand men,

And he does nothing. Really it might seem
As though we meant to let this Wellington
Be even with us there!

Berthier

His mighty forts

‘At Torres Vedras hamper Mass^na,

And quite preclude advance.

Napoleon

O well—no matter :

Why should I linger on these haps of war
Now that I have a son!

Exeunt Napoleon by one door and by another the President
of the Senate, Cambaceres, Lebrun, Berthier, and officials.

Chorus of Ironic Spirits (aerial music)

The Will Itself is slave to him,

373

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

And holds it blissful to obey !—

He said, “ Go to; it is my whim

“ To bed a bride without delay ,

Who shall unite my dull new name
With one that shone in Caesar’s day .

“ She must conceive—you hear my claim ?—
And bear a son—no daughter\ mind —

Who shall hand on my form and fame

“ To future times as I have designed;

And at the birth throughout the land
Must cannon roar and alp-horns wind ! "

The Will grew conscious at command ,

And ordered issue as he planned.

The interior of the Palace is veiled.

SCENE IV

SPAIN. ALBUERA

The dawn of a mid-May day in the same spring shows the village
of Albuera with the country around it, as viewed from the summit of
a line of hills on which the English and their allies are ranged under
Beresford. The landscape swept by the eye includes to the yght
foreground a hill loftier than any, and somewhat detached from the
range. The green slopes behind and around this hill are untrodden
—though in a few hours to be the sanguinary scene of the most
murderous struggle of the whole war.

The village itself lies to the left foreground, with its stream flow¬
ing behind it from the distance on the right A creeping brook at
the bottom of the heights held by the English joins the stream by
the village. Behind the stream some of the French forces are visible.
Away behind these stretches a great wood several miles in area, out
of which the Albuera stream emerges, and behind the furthest verge
- of the wood the morning sky lightens momently. The birds in the
wood, unaware that this day is to be different from every other day

374

SCENE IV PART SECOND

they have known *there, are heard singing their overtures with their
usual serenity. m

DUMB SHOW

As objects grow more distinct it can be perceived that some
strategic dispositions of the night are being completed by the French
forces, which the evening before lay in the woodland to the front of
the English army. They have emerged during the darkness, and
large sections of them — infantry, cuirassiers, and artillery — have
crept round to Beresford’s right without his suspecting the move¬
ment, where they lie hidden by the great hill aforesaid, though not
more than half-a-mile from his right wing.

Spirit of the Years

A hot ado goes forward here to-day,

Jf I may read the Immanent Intent
From signs and tokens blent
With weird unrest along the firmament
Of causal coils in passionate display.

—Look narrowly, and what you witness say.

Spirit of the Pities

I see red smears upon the sickly dawn,

And seeming drops of gore. On earth below
Are men—unnatured and mechanic-drawn —
Mixt nationalities in row and row,

Wheeling them to and fro
In moves dissociate from their souls' demand,
For dynasts' ends that few even understand !

Spirit of the Years
Speak more materially, and less in dream.

Spirit of Rumour

Til do it. . . . The stir of strife grows well defined
Around the hamlet and the church thereby:

Till, from the wood, the ponderous columns wind.
Guided by Godinot, with WerU nigh.

375

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

They bear upon the vill. But the gruff'guns

Of Dicksons Portuguese
Punch spectral vistas through the maze of these /

More Frenchmen press, and roaring antiphons *

Of cannonry contuse the roofs and walls and trees.

Spirit of the Pities

Wrecked are the ancient bridge, the green spring plot,
The blooming fruit-tree, the fair flower-knot!

Spirit of Rumour

Yet the true mischief to the English might
Is meant to fall not there. Look to the right,

And read the shaping scheme by yon hill-side,

Where cannon, foot, and brisk dragoons you see,

With Werld and Latour-Maubourg to guide,

Waiting to breast the hill-brow bloodily.

Beresford now becomes aware of this project on his flank, and
sends orders to throw back his right to face the attack. The order
is not obeyed. Almost at the same moment the French rush is
made, the Spanish and Portuguese allies of the English are beaten
back, and the hill is won. But two English divisions bear from the
centre of their front, and plod desperately up the hill to retake it.

Spirit Sinister

Now he among us who may wish to be
A skilled practitioner in slaughtery,

Should watch this hours fruition yonder there,

And he will know, if knowing ever were,

How mortals may be freed their fleshly cells ,

And quaint red doors set ope in sweating fells,

By methods swift and slow and foul and fair !

The English, who have plunged up the hill, are caught in a
heavy mist, that hides from them an advance in their rear of the
lancers and hussars of the enemy. The lines of the Buffs, the Sixty-
sixth, and those of the Forty-eighth, who were with them, in a chaos
ef smolce, steel, sweat, curses, and blood, are beheld melting down

376

SCJLiNis IV

PART SECOND

like wax from an erect position to confused heaps. Their forms lie
r igid, or twitch and turn, as they are trampled over by the hoofs of
the enemy’s horse. Those that have not fallen are taken.

Spirit of the Pities

Ft works as you, uncanny Phantom., wist! . . .

Whose is that towering form
That tears across the mist

jPo where the shocks are sorest ?—his with arm

Outstretched, and grimy face, and bloodshot eye,

-Hike one who, having done his deeds, will die ?

Spirit of Rumour

JFe'is one Beresford , who heads the fight
For England here to-day.

Spirit of the Pities

He calls the sight

JDespite itself !—-parries yon lancers thrust,

^4nd with his own sword renders dust to dust!

The ghastly climax of the strife is reached ; the combatants are
seen to be firing grape and canister at speaking distance, and dis¬
charging musketry in each other’s faces when so close that their
complexions may be recognized. Hot corpses, their mouths
blackened by cartridge-biting, and surrounded by cast-away knap¬
sacks, firelocks, hats, stocks, flint-boxes, and priming-horns, together
with, red and blue rags of clothing, gaiters, epaulettes, limbs, and
viscera, accumulate on the slopes, increasing from twos and threes
to h^lf-dozens, and from half-dozens to heaps, which steam with
their own warmth as the spring rain falls gently upon them.

The critical instant has come, and the English break. But a
comparatively fresh division, with fusileers, is brought into the turmoil
by Hardinge and Cole, and these make one last strain to save the
day, and their names and lives. The fusileers mount the incline,
and issuing from the smoke and mist startle the enemy by their
arrival on a spot deemed won.

Semichorus I of the Pities (aerial music)

They come, beset by riddling hail;

177

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

They sway like sedges in a gale ;

They fail, and win, and win, and fail. ' Albuera !

Semichorus II

They gain the ground there, yard by yard,

Their brows and hair and lashes charred,

Their blackened teeth set firm and hard.

Semichorus I

Their mad assailants rave and reel,

And face, as men who scorn to feel,

The close-lined, three-edged prongs of steel.

Semichorus II

Till faintness follows closing-in.

When, faltering headlong down, they spin

Like leaves. But those pay well who win Albuera.

Semichorus I

Out of six thousand souls that sware
To hold the mount, or pass elsewhere.

But eighteen hundred muster there.

Semichorus II

Pale Colonels, Captains, ranksmen lie,

Facing the earth or facing sky ;—

They strove to live, they stretch to die.

Semichorus I

Friends, foemen, mingle ; heap and heap .—

Hide their hacked bones, Earth ! — deep, deep, deep,
Where harmless worms caress and creep.

378

KNT. V

PART SECOND

Chorus

Hide their hacked bones, Earth /— deep, deep , deep ,
Where harmless worms caress and creep .—

What man can grieve ? what woman weep?

Better than waking is to sleep. Albucra !

The night comes on, and darkness covers the battle-field.

SCENE V

WINDSOR CASTLK. A ROOM IN THE KING’S APARTMENTS

The walls of the room are padded, and also the articles of
furniture, the stuffings being overlaid with satin and velvet, on which
are worked in gold thread monograms and crowns. The windows
are guarded, and the floor covered with thick cork, carpeted. The
time is shortly after the last scene.

The Kino is seated by a window, and two of Dr. Willis’s
attendants are in the room. His Majesty is now seventy-two; his
sight is very defective, but he does not look ill. He appears to be
lost in melancholy thought, and talks to himself reproachfully, a
hurried manner on occasion being the only irregular symptom that
he betrays.

King

In my lifetime I did not look after her enough—
enough—enough! And now she is lost to me, and I
shall never see her more. Had I but known, had I
but thought of it! Gentlemen, when did I lose the
Princess Amelia?

First Attendant

The second of last November, your Majesty.

King

And what is it now ?

379

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

First Attendant
Now, sir, it is the beginning of June.

King

Ah, June, I remember! . . . The June flowers are*
not for me. I shall never see them ; nor will she. So
fond of them as she was. . . . Even if I were living I
would never go where there are flowers any more! No:

I would go to the bleak, barren places that she never
would walk in, and never knew, so that nothing might
remind me of her, and make my heart ache more than
I can bear! . . . Why, the beginning of June?—that’s
when they are coming to examine me! (H& grows
excited.)

First Attendant (to second attendant, aside)

Dr. Reynolds ought not to have reminded him of
their visit. It only disquiets him and makes him less
fit to see them.

King

How long have I been confined here ?

First Attendant

Since November, sir; for your health’s sake
entirely, as your Majesty knows.

King

What, what? So long? Ah, yes. I must bear
it. This is the fourth great black gulf in my poor life,
is it not ? The fourth.

A signal at the door. The second attendant opens it and
whispers.

Enter softly Sir Henry Halford, Dr. William Heberden, Dr.
Robert Willis, Dr. Matthew Baillie, the Kino’s Apothecary,
and one or two other gentlemen.

380

K,>*> V

PART SECOND

King (straining his eyes to discern them)

What! Are they come ? What will they do to me ?
iow dare they! I am Elector of Hanover! (Finding
>r. Willis is among them he shrieks.) O, they are going to
>leod me—yes, to bleed me! (Piteously.) My friends,
lOn't bleed me—pray don’t! 11 makes me so weak to

ake my blood. And the leeches do, too, when you
nit so many. You will not be so unkind, I am sure!

Willis (to Baillie)

It is extraordinary what a vast aversion he has
,o bleeding—that most salutary remedy, fearlessly
practised. He submits to leeches as yet, but I won’t
ay that he will for long without being strait-jacketed.

King (catching some of the words)

You will strait-jacket me ? O no, no!

Willis

Leeches are not effective, really. Dr. Home, when
^mentioned it to him yesterday, said he would bleed
him till he fainted if he had charge of him!

King

(3 will you do it, sir, against my will,

And put me, once your king, in needless pain ?

I do assure you truly, my good friends,

That I have done no harm! In sunnier years
Ere I was throneless, withered to a shade,

Deprived of my divine authority—

When I was hale, and ruled the English land—

I ever did my utmost to promote

The welfare of my people, body and soul!

3Si

THE DYNASTS actv!

Right many a morn and night I have prayed and
mused

How I could bring them to a better way.

So much of me you surely know, my friends,

And will not hurt me in my weakness here!

(He trembles.)

Spirit of the Pities

The tears that lie about this plightful scene
Of heavy travail in a suffering soul,

Mocked with the forms and feints of royalty
While scarified by briery Circumstance ,

Might drive Compassion past her patiency
To hold that some mean , monstrous ironist
Had built this mistimed fabric of the Spheres
To watch the throbbings of its captive lives,

(The which may Truth forfend), and not thy said
Unmaliced, unimpassioned, nescient Will!

Spirit of the Years

Mild one , be not too touched with human fate.

Such is the Drama : such the Mortal state :

No sigh of thine can null the Plan Predestinate !

Halford

We have come to do your Majesty no harm.

Here’s Dr. Heberden, whom I am sure you like,

And this is Dr. Baillie. We arrive
But to inquire and gather how you are,

Thereon to let the Privy Council know,

And give assurance for your people’s good.

A brass band is heard playing in a distant part of Windsor.

King

Ah-^-what does that band play for here to-day ?

382

fXKNK V

PART SECOND

She has been dead and I so short a time! . . .
Her liule hands are hardly cold as yet;

But they can show such cruel indecency
As to l«t trumpets play!

Halford

They guess not, sir,

That you can hear them, or their chords would cease.
Their boisterous music fetches back to me
That, of our errands to your Majesty,

One was congratulation most sincere
U pon this glorious victory you have won.

'Hu: news is just in port; the band booms out
To celebrate it, and to honour you.

King

A victory ? I ? Pray where ?

Halford

Indeed so, sir:

Hard by Albuera—far in harried Spain—

Yes. sir; you have achieved a victory
Of dash unmatched and feats unparalleled!

King

H<; says 1 have won a battle ? But I thought
I was a poor afflicted captive here,
in darkness lingering out my lonely days,

Beset with terror of these myrmidons

That suck my blood like vampires! Ay, ay, ay !—

No aims left to me but to quicken death

To quicklier please my son!—And yet he says

That I have won a battle! O God, curse, damn.

When will the speech of the world accord with truth,

And men’s tongues roll sincerely!

THE DYNASTS

ACT V

Gentleman (aside)

Faith, ’twould seem
As if the madman were the sanest here!

The King’s face has flushed, and he becomes violent. Th<
attendants rush forward to him.

Spirit of the Pities

Something within me aches to pray
To some Great Heart, to take away
This evil day, this evil day !

Chorus Ironic

Ha-ha! That's good. Thou It pray to It :~r-
But where do Its compassions sit ?

Yea, where abides the heart of It ?

Is it where sky-fires flame and flit,

Or solar craters spew and spit,

Or ultra-stellar night-webs knit ?

What is Its shape ? Mans counterfeit ?

That turns in some far sphere unlit
The Wheel which drives the Infinite ?

Spirit of the Pities

Mock on, mock on ! Yet III go pray
To some Great Heart, who haply may
Charm mortal miseries away !

The King’s paroxysm continues. The attendants hold him
Halford

This is distressing. One can never tell

How he will take things now. I thought Albuera

A subject that would surely solace him.

These paroxysms—have they been bad this week?
vTo Attendants.)

384

S< KNF V

PART SECOND

First Attendant

Sir* Henry, no. He has quite often named
'J he lafc Princess, as gently as a child
A little bird found starved.

Willis (aside to apothecary)

1 must increase the opium to-night, and lower him
bv a double set of leeches since he won’t stand the
lancet quietly.

Apothecary

You should take twenty ounces, doctor, if a drop—
indeed, go on blooding till he’s unconscious. He is
too robust by half. And the watering-pot would do
good again—not less than six feet above his head.
See how heated he is.

Willis

Curse that town band. It will have to be stopped.

Hkberden

The same thing is going on all over England, no
cibubt, on account of this victory.

Halford

When he is in a more domineering mood he likes
such allusions to his rank as king. ... If he could
resume his walks on the terrace he might improve
.slightly. But it is too soon yet. We must consider
what we shall report to the Council. There is little
hotK.- of his being much better. What do you think,
Willis ?

Willis

None. He is done for this time!

385 2 c

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Halford

Well, we must soften it down a little, so as nefto
upset the Queen too much, poor woman, and distract;
the Council unnecessarily. Eldon will go pumping up
bucketfuls, and the Archbishops are so easily shocked
that a certain conventional reserve is almost forced
upon us.

Willis (returning from the King)

He is already better. The paroxysm has nearly
passed. Your opinion will be far more favourable
before you leave.

The King soon grows calm, and the expression of his face
changes to one of dejection. The attendants leave his side: he
bends his head, and covers his face with his hand, while his lips
move as if in prayer. He then turns to them.

King (meekly)

I am most truly sorry, gentlemen,

If I have used language that would seem to show
Discourtesy to you for your good help
In this unhappy malady of mine!

My nerves unstring, my friends; my flesh grows
weak:

“The good that I would do I leave undone,

The evil which I would not, that I do ! ”

Shame, shame on me!

Willis (aside to the others)

Now he will be as low as before he was in the
other extreme.

King

A king should bear him kingly; I, of all,

One of so long a line. O shame on me! . . .

—This battle that you speak of ?—Spain, of course ?

Ah—Albuera! And many fallen—eh ? Yes ?

386

SCENE V

PART SECOND

Halford

Many hot hearts, sir, cold, I grieve to say.

-There s Major-General Houghton, Captain Bourke,
And Herbert of the Third, Lieutenant Fox,

And Captains Erck and Montague, and more.

With Majors-General Cole and Stewart wounded,
And Quartermaster-General Wallace too :

A total of three generals, colonels five,

Five majors, fifty captains; and to these
Add ensigns and lieutenants sixscore odd,

"Who went out, but returned not. Heavily tithed

Were the attenuate battalions there

Who^ stood and bearded Death by the hour that day !

King

O fearful price for victory! Add thereto

All those I lost at Walcheren.—A crime

Lay there! . . . I stood on Chatham’s being sent:

11 wears on me, till I am unfit to live !

Willis (aside to the others)

, Don’t let him get on that Walcheren business.
There will be another outbreak. Heberden, please ye
talk to him. He fancies you most.

Heberden

I’ll tell him some of the brilliant feats of the battle.
{He goes and talks to the King.)

Willis (to the rest)

Well, my inside begins to cry cupboard. I had
"breakfast early. We have enough particulars now to
face the Queen’s Council with, I should say, Sir Henry?

387

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Halford

Yes.—I want to get back to town as soon '•as
possible to-day. Mrs. Siddons has a party 'at her,
house at Westbourne to-night, and all the world is
going to be there.

Baillie

Well, I am not. But I have promised to take
some friends to Vauxhall, as it is a grand gala and
fireworks night. Miss Farren is going to sing “The
Canary Bird.”—The Regent’s fete, by the way, is
postponed till the nineteenth, on account of this relapse.
Pretty grumpy he was at having to do it. All the
world will be there, sure!

Willis

And some from the Shades, too, of the fair sex.—
Well, here comes Heberden. He has pacified his
Majesty nicely. Now we can get away.

The physicians withdraw softly, and the scene is covered.

SCENE VI

LONDON. CARLTON HOUSE AND THE STREETS
ADJOINING

It is a cloudless midsummer evening, and as the west fades the
stars beam down upon the city, the evening-star hanging like a
jonquil blossom. They are dimmed by the unwonted radiance which
spreads around and above Carlton House. As viewed from aloft
the glare rises through the skylights, floods the forecourt towards
Pall Mall, and kindles with a diaphanous glow the huge tents in the
gardens that overlook the Mall. The hour has arrived of the Prince
Regent’s festivity.

A stream of carriages and sedan-chairs, moving slowly, stretches
from the building along Pall Mall into Piccadilly and Bond Street,

388

SCENE VI

PART SECOND

and crowds fill the pavements watching the bejewelled and feathered
occupants. Injaddition to the grand entrance inside the Pall Mall
colonnade there is a covert little “ chair-door ” in Warwick Street for
3fdans only, by which arrivals are perceived to be slipping in almost
jmobsertfed.

Spirit Ironic

What domiciles are those, of singular expression.

Whence no guest comes to join the gemmed procession ;
That, west of Hyde, this, in the Park-side Lane,

Each front beclouded like a mask of pain ?

Spirit of Rumour

Therein the princely host's two spouses dwell;

A wife in each. Let me inspect and tell.

The walls of the two houses—one in Park Lane, the other at
Kensington—become transparent.

/ see within the first his latter wife —

That Caroline of Brunswick whose brave sire
Yielded his breath on fends reeking plain.

And of whose kindred other yet may fall
Ere long, if character indeed be fate .—

She idles feasting, and is full of jest
As each gay chariot rumbles to the rout.

“ I rank like your Archbishops' wives," laughs she ;
Denied my husbands honours. Funny me ! "

!" > Suddenly a Beau on his way to the Carlton House festival halts
at her house, calls, and is shown in.

He brings her news that a fresh favourite rules
dfer husbands ready heart; likewise of those
Obscure and unmissed courtiers late deceased,

Who have in name been bidden to the feast
By blundering scribes.

The Princess is seen to jump up from table at some words from
her visitor, and clap her hands.

These tidings, juxtaposed,
Have fired her hot with curiosity.

And lit her quick invention with a plan.

389

THE DYNASTS

ACT

Princess of Wales

Mine God, I’ll go disguised—in some dead name
And enter by the leetle, sly, chair-door
Designed for those not welcomed openly.

There unobserved I’ll note mine new supplanter!
’Tis indiscreet ? Let indiscretion rule,

Since caution pensions me so scurvily!

Spirit Ironic

Good. Idow for the other sweet and slighted spouse.
Spirit of Rumour

The second roof shades the Fitzherbert Fair;
Reserved, perverse. As coach and coach roll by
She mopes within her lattice; tamp less, lone,

As if she grieved at her ungracious fate.

And yet were loth to kill the sting of it
By frankly forfeiting the Prince and town.

“ Bidden," says she, “ but as one low of rank.

And go I will not so unworthily.

To sit with common dames l"—A flippant friend'
Writes then that a new planet szvays to-night
The sense of her erratic lord; vu hereon
The fair Fitzherbert muses hankeringly.

Mrs. Fitzherbert (soliloquizing)

The guest-card which I publicly refused
Might, as a fancy, privately be used! . .

Yes -one last look—a wordless, wan farewell
To this false life which glooms me like a knell,

And him, the cause; from some hid nook survey
His new magnificence ;—then g-o for aye!

Spirit of Rumour

She cloaks and. veils, and in her private chair
Passes the Princess also stealing there —

Two honest wives, and yet a differing pair !

390

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Spirit Ironic

Jddith dames of strange repute, who bear a ticket
Bor screened admission by the private wicket.

Chorus of Ironic Spirits (aerial music)

/l wife of the body, a wife of the mind,

A wife somewhat frowsy, a wife too refined:

Could the twain but grow one, and no other dames be,

A To husband in Europe more steadfast than he !

Spirit of the Years

Cease fooling on weak waifs who love and wed
But'as the unweeting Urger may bestead !—

See them witkinside, douce and diamonded.

The walls of Carlton House open, and the spectator finds him¬
self confronting the revel.

SCENE VII

THE SAME. THE INTERIOR OF CARLTON HOUSE

A central hall is disclosed, radiant with constellations of candles,
lamps, and lanterns, and decorated with flowering shrubs. An opening
on the left reveals the Grand Council-chamber prepared for dancing,
tl*e floor being chalked with arabesques having in the centre
“ G. III. R.,” with a crown, arms, and supporters. Orange-trees
and rose-bushes in bloom stand against the walls. On the right
hand extends a glittering vista of the supper-rooms and tables, now
crowded with guests. This display reaches as far as the conserva¬
tory westward, and branches into long tents on the lawn.

On a dais at the chief table, laid with gold and silver plate, the
Prince Regent sits like a lay figure, in a state chair of crimson and
gold, with six servants at his back. He swelters in a gorgeous
uniform of scarlet and gold lace which represents him as a Field
Marshal, and he is surrounded by a hundred-and-forty of his par¬
ticular friends.

39 1

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Down the middle of this state-table runs a purling brook crossed
by quaint bridges, in which gold and silver fish frisk-.about between
banks of moss and flowers. The whole scene is lit with wax candles
in chandeliers, and in countless candelabra on the tables. r r

The people at the upper tables include the Duchess ©f Yorl£ r
looking tired from having just received as hostess most of the ladies’^
present, except those who have come informally, Louis XVIII. of
France, the Duchess of Angouleme, all the English Royal Dukes,
nearly all the ordinary Dukes and Duchesses; also the Lore!
Chancellor, the Speaker, the Chancellor of the Exchequer and othef
Ministers, the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress, all the more fashion¬
able of the other Peers, Peeresses, and Members of Parliament,
Generals, Admirals, and Mayors, with their wives. The ladies of
position wear, almost to the extent of a uniform, a nodding head-dress
of ostrich feathers with diamonds, and gowns of white satin em¬
broidered in gold or silver, on which, owing to the heat, dribbles of
wax from the chandeliers occasionally fall.

The Guards’ bands play, and attendants rush about in blue and
gold lace.

Spirit of the Pities

The Queen , the Regent's mother ; sits not here;

Wanting too , are his sisters , I perceive ;

And it is well. With the distempered King
Immured at Windsor, sore distraught or dying ,

It borders nigh on an indecency

In their regard, that this loud feast is kept,

A thought not strange to many , as I read\

Even of those gathered here .

Spirit Ironic

My ' dear phantom and crony , the gloom upon their
faces is due rather to their having borrowed those
diamonds at eleven per cent than to their loyalty tcF a
suffering monarch ! But let us test the feeling. Til
spread a report.

He calls up the Spirit of Rumour, who
through the assemblage.

scatters whispers

A Guest (to his neighbour)
dead ?^ 6 Y ° U heard this re P ort —that the King is

392

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Another Guest

it has just reached me from the other side. Can it
•be truS?

Third Guest

I think it probable. He has been very ill all the
week.

Prince Regent

Dead ? Then my f£te is spoilt, by God !

Sheridan

Dong live the King! (He holds up his glass and bows
to the Regent.)

Marchioness of Hertford

(the new favourite, to the Regent)

The news is more natural than the moment of it!
It is too cruel to you that it should happen now!

Prince Regent

Damn me, though ; can it be true ? (He provisionally
throws a regal air into his countenance.)

Duchess of York (on the Regent’s left)

I liardly can believe it This forenoon
He was reported mending.

Duchess of Angouleme (on the Regent’s right)

On this side

They are asserting that the news is false—

That Buonaparte’s child, the “ King of Rome,”

Is dead, and not your royal father, sire.

393

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Prince Regent

That’s mighty fortunate! Had it been true,

I should have been abused by all the world—

The Queen the keenest of the chorus too—

Though I have been postponing this pledged feast
Through days and weeks, in hopes the King wouM
mend,

Till expectation fusted with delay.

But give a dog a bad name—or a Prince !

So, then, it is this new-come King of Rome
Who has passed or ever the world has welcomed
him! . . .

Call him a king—that pompous upstart’s son—

Beside us scions of the ancient lines !

Duke of Bedford

I think that rumour untrue also, sir. I heard it as
I drove up from Woburn this evening, and it was con¬
tradicted then.

Prince Regent

Drove up this evening, did ye, Duke ? Why did
you cut it so close ?

Duke of Bedford

Well, it so happened that my sheep-shearing dinner
was fixed for this very day, and I couldn’t put it r off.
So I dined with them there at one o’clock, discussed
the sheep, rushed off, drove the two-and-forty miles,
jumped into my clothes at my house here, and reached
your Royal Highness’s door in no very bad time.

Prince Regent

Capital, capital. But, ’pon my soul, ’twas a close
shave!

394

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Soon the babbling and glittering company rise from supper, and
begin promenading through the rooms and tents, the Regent setting
the example, and mixing up and talking unceremoniously with his
guesfs of every degree. He and the group round him disappear into
Jthe remoter chambers; but many concentrate in the Grecian Hall,
which forms the foreground of the scene, whence a glance can be
obtained into the ball-room, now filled with dancers.

. The band is playing the tune of the season, “The Regency
Hornpipe,” which is danced as a country-dance by some thirty
couples; so that by the time the top couple have danced down the
figure they are quite breathless. Two young lords talk desultorily as
they survey the scene.

First Lord

Are the rumours of the King of Rome’s death
confirmed ?

Second Lord

No. But they are probably true. He was a feeble
brat from the first. I believe they had to baptize him
on the day he was born. What can one expect after
such presumption—calling him the New Messiah, and
God knows what all. Ours is the only country which
did not write fulsome poems about him. “ Wise
English!” the Tsar Alexander said drily when he
heard it.

First Lord

Ay! The affection between that Pompey and
Caesar has begun to cool. Alexander’s soreness at
having his sister thrown over so cavalierly is not
salved yet.

Second Lord

There is much besides. I’d lay a guinea there will
be a war between Russia and France before, another
year has flown.

First Lord

Prinny looks a little worried to-night.

395

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Second Lord

Yes. The Queen don’t like the fete being' Held
considering the King’s condition. She and her friend,
say it should have been put off altogether. But the
Princess of Wales is not troubled that way. Thought
she was not asked herself she went wildly off ancj
bought her people new gowns to come in. Poor
maladroit woman! . . .

Another new dance of the year is started, and another long line
of couples begin to foot it

That’s a pretty thing they are doing now. What
d’ye call it ?

First Lord

“Speed the Plough.” It is just out. They are
having it everywhere. The next is to be one of those
foreign things in three-eight time they call Waltzes. I
question if anybody is up to dancing ’em here yet.

“ Speed the Plough” is danced to its
strikes up “ The Copenhagen Waltz.”

conclusion, and the band

Spirit Ironic

Now for the wives. They both were tearing hither,

Unless refection sped them back again;

But dignity that nothing else may bend
Succumbs to womans curiosity,

So deem them here. Messengers , call them nigh /

The Prince Regent, having gone the round of the other rooms

SuddTrdvT/h thG b : r °° m d0 ° r > 2111,1 stands Poking at the dancers!
Suddeniy he turns, and gazes about with a ruffled face. He sees a

tall, red-faced man near him— Lord Yarmouth, one of his friends
(afterwards Marquis of Hertford). menas

Prince Regent

Cursed hot here, Yarmouth. Hottest of. all for me !

396

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Yarmouth

Yes, it is warm, sir. Hence I do not dance.

Prince Regent

y’m. What I meant was of another order ;

I spoke it figuratively.

Yarmouth
O indeed, sir ?

Prince Regent

She’s here. I heard her voice. I’ll swear I did!

Who, sir?

Yarmouth
Prince Regent

Why, the Princess of Wales. Do you think I
could mistake those beastly German Ps and Bs of
hers ?—She asked to come, and was denied ; but she’s
got here, I’ll wager ye, through the chair-door in
Warwick Street, which I arranged for a few ladies
whom I wished to come privately. (He looks about again,
and moves till he is by a door which affords a peep up the grand
staircase.) By God, Yarmouth, I see two figures up
there who shouldn’t be here—leaning over the balus¬
trade of the gallery!

Yarmouth

Two figures, sir. Whose are they?

Prince Regent

She is one. The Fitzherbert is t’other! O I am
almost sure it is! I would have welcomed her, but she
bridled and said she wouldn’t sit down at my table as
a plain “Mrs.” to please anybody. As I had sworn

397

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

that on this occasion people should sit strictly according
to their rank, I wouldn’t give way. Why the devil
did she come like this ? Ton my soul, these women
will be the death o’ me!

Yarmouth (looking cautiously up the stairs)

I can see nothing of her, sir, nor of the Princess
either. There is a crowd of idlers up there leaning
over the bannisters, and you may have mistaken some
others for them.

Prince Regent

O no. They have drawn back their heads. There
have been such infernal mistakes made in sending out

the cards that the biggest w-in London might be

here. She’s watching Lady Hertford, that’s what she’s
doing. For all their indifference, both of them are as
jealous as two cats over one tom.

Somebody whispers that a lady has fainted upstairs.

That’s Maria, I’ll swear! She’s always doing it.
Whenever I hear of some lady fainting about upon the
furniture at my presence, and sending for a glass of
water, I say to myself, There’s Maria at it again, by
God!

Spirit Ironic

Now let him hear their voices once again.

The Regent starts as he seems to hear from the stairs the tongues
of the two ladies growing louder and nearer, the Princess pouring
reproaches into one ear, and Mrs. Fitzherbert into the other.

Prince Regent

’Od seize ’em, Yarmouth ; this will drive me mad !

If men of blood must mate with only one
Of those dear damned deluders called the Sex,

Why has Heaven teased us with the taste for
Change ?—

398

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

God, I begin Co loathe the whole curst show!

How hot itfs ! Get me a glass of brandy,

Oi* I shall swoon off too. Now let’s go out,

’.And find some fresher air upon the lawn.

Here Yarmouth, Moira ; quick and come along.

Exit the Prince Regent with Lords Moira and Yarmouth.
T^ie band strikes up “ La Belle Catarina,” and a new figure is formed.

Spirit of the Years

Phantoms, ye strain your powers unduly kere,

Making faint fancies as they were indeed
The Mighty Wills firm work.

Spirit Ironic

Nay, Father, nay ;

The wives prepared to hasten hitherward
Under the names of some gone down to death,

Who yet were bidden. Must they not be here ?

Spirit of the Years

There lie long leagues between a womans word—

“ She will, indeed she will! ”—and acting on!t.

Whether those came or no, thy antics cease,

% And let the revel wear it out in peace.

Enter Spencer Perceval, the Prime Minister, a small, pale,
grave-looking man, and an Under-Secretary of State, meeting.

Under-Secretary

Is the King of Rome really dead, and the gorgeous
gold cradle wasted ?

Perceval

O no, he is alive and waxing strong :

That tale has been set travelling more than once.

But touching it, there booms upon our ear
A graver import, unimpeachable.

399

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Under-Secretary
Your speech is dark.

Perceval

Well, a new war in Europe.
Before the year is out there may arise
A red campaign outscaling any seen.

Russia and France the parties to the strife—

Ay, to the death!

U nder-Secretary

By Heaven, sir, do you say so ?

Enter Castlereagh, a tall, handsome man with a Roman nose,
who, seeing them, approaches.

Perceval

Ha, Castlereagh. Till now I have missed you here.
This news is startling for us all, I say!

Castlereagh

My mind is blank on it! Since I left office
I know no more what villainy’s afoot,

Or virtue either, than an anchoret
Who mortifies the flesh in some lone cave.

Perceval

Well, happily that may not last for long.

But this grave pother that’s just now agog
May reach such radius in its consequence
As to outspan our lives ! Yes, Bonaparte

And Alexander—late such bosom-friends_

Are closing to a mutual murder-bout
At which the lips of Europe will wax wan.

400

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Bonaparte say§ the fault is not with him,
And so saysl Alexander. But we know
The Austrian knot began their severance,
’And that the Polish question largens it.
Nothing but time is needed for the clash.
And if so be that Wellington but keep
His foot in the Peninsula awhile,

Between the pestle and the mortar-stone
Of Russia and of Spain, Napoleon’s brayed.

Spirit of Rumour (to the Spirit of the Years)

Permit me now to join them and conjirm ,

By what I bring from far , their forecasting ?

Spirit of the Years

Til go. Thou knowest not greatly more than they.

The Spirit of the Years enters the apartment in the shape
of a pale, hollow-eyed gentleman wearing an embroidered suit. At
the same time re-enter the Regent, Lords Moira, Yarmouth,
Keith, Lady Hertford, Sheridan, the Duke of Bedford, with
many more notables. The band changes into the popular dance,
“ Down with the French,” and the characters aforesaid look on at the
cancers.

Spirit of the Years (to Perceval)

Yes, sir; your text is true. In closest touch
W&h European courts and cabinets,

Ike imminence of dire and deadly war
Betwixt these east and western emperies
Is lipped by special pathways to mine ear.

You may not see the impact: ere it come
The tomb-worm may caress thee (Perceval shrinks) ; but
believe

Before five more have joined the shotten years
Whose useless films infest the foggy Past,

Traced thick with teachings glimpsed unheedingly,

401 2 D

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

The rawest Dynast of the group concerned
Will, for the good or ill of mute mankind, f
Down-topple to the dust like soldier Saul,

And Europe's mouldy-minded oligarchs
Be propped anew ; while garments roll in blood
To confused noise, with burning, and fuel offire.
Nations shall lose their noblest in the strife,

And tremble at the tidings of an hour !

(He passes into the crowd and vanishes.)

Prince Regent (who has heard with parted lips)

Who the devil is he ?

Perceval

One in the suite of the French princes, perhaps,
sir ?—though his tone was not monarchical. He seems
to be a foreigner.

Castlereagh

His manner was that of an old prophet, and his
features had a Jewish cast, which accounted for his
Hebraic style.

Prince Regent

He could not have known me, to speak so freely in
my presence!

Sheridan

I expected to see him write on the wall, like the
gentleman with the Hand at Belshazzar’s Feast.

Prince Regent (recovering)

He seemed to know a damn sight more about
whafs going on in Europe, sir (to Perceval), than your
Government does, with all its secret information.

402

SCENE VII

PART SECOND

Perceval

is recently over, I conjecture, your Royal
Highness, and brings the latest impressions.

Prince Regent

By Gad, sir, I shall have a comfortable time of it
in my regency, or reign, if what he foresees be true!
But I was born for war ; it is my destiny !

He draws himself up inside his uniform and stalks away. The
group dissolves, the band continuing stridently, “ Down with the
French,” as dawn glimmers in.

Soon the Regent’s guests begin severally and in groups to take
leave.

Spirit of the Pities

Behold To-morrow riddles tke curtains through,

And labouring life without shoulders its cross anew !

Chorus of the Years (aerial music)

Why watch we here ? Look all around
Where Europe spreads her crinkled ground,
From Osmanland to Hekla s mound,

Look all around !

Hark at the cloud-combed Ural pines ;

See how each, wailful-wise, inclines ;

Mark the mist's labyrinthine lines ;

Behold the tumbling Biscay Bay ;

The Midland main in silent sway ;

As urged to move them , so move they.

No less through regal puppet-shows ■

The rapt Determinator throes,

That neither good nor evil knows !

403

THE DYNASTS

ACT VI

Chorus of the Pities ,

Yet It may wake and understand

Ere Earth unshape , know all things , and

With knowledge use a painless hand,

A painless hand !

Solitude reigns in the chambers, and the scene shuts up.

END OF THE SECOND PART

Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh.

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