The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 104

SPIRIT SINISTER

All day have they been waiting for their galanty-show, and now the hour of performance is on the strike. It may be seasonable to muse on the sixteenth Louis and the bride's great-aunt, as the nearing procession is, I see, appositely crossing the track of the tumbril which was the last coach of that respected lady.... It is now pa.s.sing over the site of the scaffold on which she lost her head.

... 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 moment 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-Carre, followed by the long suite of ill.u.s.trious personages, and acclamations burst from all parts of the Grand Gallery.

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Whose are those forms that pair in pompous train Behind 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 The Emperor's brother Louis, Holland's King; Then Jerome of Westphalia with his spouse; The mother-queen, and Julie Queen of Spain, The Prince Borghese and the Princess Pauline, Beauharnais the Vice-King of Italy, And Murat King of Naples, with their Queens; Baden's Grand-Duke, Arch-Chancellor Cambaceres, Berthier, Lebrun, and, not least, Talleyrand.

Then the Grand Marshal and the Chamberlain, The Lords-in-Waiting, the Grand Equerry, With waiting-ladies, women of the chamber, An others called by office, rank, or fame.

SPIRIT OF RUMOUR

New, many, to Imperial dignities; Which, won by character and quality In those who now enjoy them, will become The birthright of their sons in aftertime.

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-fas.h.i.+oned, swift, perturbable!

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Napoleon looks content--nay, s.h.i.+nes with joy.

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Yet see it pa.s.s, as by a conjuror's 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.]

ABBE 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!

[MARIE LOUISE looks frightened. The procession moves on.]

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

I seem 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 earth's sepulchre's 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 hustlings in her former house, Lost to all count of crowns and bridalry-- Even of her Austrian blood. No: what thou seest Springs of the quavering fancy, stirred to dreams By yon tart phantom's 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 music the EMPEROR and EMPRESS are received and incensed by the 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 choir 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 coa.r.s.eness 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 like the Hapsburgs!