The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 11

MINISTER

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

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 don't know my friends!

[They look 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?

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! 'Tis 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 marble, sun-alight, And there behold, unbid, the Coronation-rite.

[The confused tongues of the a.s.sembly 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 pa.s.ses into silence, and the whole disappears.]

SCENE VI

MILAN. THE CATHEDRAL

[The interior of the building on a sunny May day.

The walls, arched, and columns are draped in silk fringed with gold. A gilded throne stand in front of the High Altar. A closely packed a.s.semblage, attired in every variety of rich fabric and fas.h.i.+on, waits in breathless expectation.]

DUMB SHOW

From a private corridor leading to a door in the aisle the EMPRESS JOSEPHINE enters, in a s.h.i.+ning costume, and diamonds that collect rainbow-colours from the sunlight piercing the clerestory windows.

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 inst.i.tutions, officers of the state bearing the insignia of the Empire and of Italy, and seven ladies with offerings. The Emperor himself in royal robes, wearing the Imperial crown, and carrying the sceptre. He is followed my 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 of CAPRARA and the clergy, who burn incense before him as he proceeds towards the throne. Rolling notes of music burn 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 cult, called Christianity, Which the wild dramas of the wheeling spheres Include, with divers other such, in dim Pathetical and brief parentheses, Beyond whose span, uninfluenced, unconcerned, The systems of the suns go sweeping on With all their many-mortaled planet train In mathematic roll unceasingly.

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

I did not recognize it here, forsooth; Though in its early, lovingkindly days Of gracious purpose it was much to me.