The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 142

Next, Poniatowski, Victor, and the rest.

Out here, Napoleon's centre at Probstheida, Where he has bivouacked. Those round this way Are his left wing with Ney, that face the north Between Paunsdorf and Gohlis.--Thus, you see They are skilfully sconced within the villages, With cannon ranged in front. And every copse, Dingle, and grove is packed with riflemen.

[The heavy sky begins to clear with the full arrival of the morning. The sun bursts out, and the previously dark and gloomy ma.s.ses glitter in the rays. It is now seven o'clock, and with the s.h.i.+ning of the sun, the battle is resumed.

The army of Bohemia to the south and east, in three great columns, marches concentrically upon NAPOLEON'S new and much-contracted line --the first column of thirty-five thousand under BENNIGSEN; the second, the central, forty-five thousand under BARCLAY DE TOLLY; the third, twenty-five thousand under the PRINCE OF HESSE-HOMBURG.

An interval of suspense.]

FIRST CITIZEN

Ah, see! The French bend, falter, and fall back.

[Another interval. Then a huge rumble of artillery resounds from the north.]

SEMICHORUS OF RUMOURS [aerial music]

Now Blucher has arrived; and now falls to!

Marmont withdraws before him. Bernadotte Touching Bennigsen, joins attack with him, And Ney must needs recede. This serves as sign To Schwarzenberg to bear upon Probstheida-- Napoleon's keystone and dependence here.

But for long whiles he fails to win his will, The chief being nigh--outmatching might with skill.

SEMICHORUS II

Ney meanwhile, stung still sharplier, still withdraws Nearer the town, and met by new mischance, Finds him forsaken by his Saxon wing-- Fair files of thrice twelve thousand footmanry.

But rallying those still true with signs and calls, He warely closes up his remnant to the walls.

SEMICHORUS I

Around Probstheida still the conflict rolls Under Napoleon's eye surpa.s.singly.

Like sedge before the scythe the sections fall And bayonets slant and reek. Each cannon-blaze Makes the air thick with human limbs; while keen Contests rage hand to hand. Throats shout "advance,"

And forms walm, wallow, and slack suddenly.

Hot ordnance split and s.h.i.+ver and rebound, And firelocks fouled and flintless overstrew the ground.

SEMICHORUS II

At length the Allies, daring tumultuously, Find them inside Probstheida. There is fixed Napoleon's cardinal and centre hold.

But need to loose it grows his gloomy fear As night begins to brown and treacherous mists appear.

CHORUS

Then, on the three fronts of this reaching field, A furious, far, and final cannonade Burns from two thousand mouths and shakes the plain, And hastens the sure end! Towards the west Bertrand keeps open the retreating-way, Along which wambling waggons since the noon Have crept in closening file. Dusk draws around; The marching remnants drowse amid their talk, And worn and harrowed horses slumber as the walk.

[In the darkness of the distance spread cries from the maimed animals and the wounded men. Mult.i.tudes of the latter contrive to crawl into the city, until the streets are full of them. Their voices are heard calling.]

SECOND CITIZEN

They cry for water! Let us go down, And do what mercy may.

[Exeunt citizens from the tower.]

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

A fire is lit Near to the Thonberg wind-wheel. Can it be Napoleon tarries yet? Let us go see.

[The distant firelight becomes clearer and closer.]

SCENE IV

THE SAME. AT THE THONBERG WINDMILL

[By the newly lighted fire NAPOLEON is seen walking up and down, much agitated and worn. With him are MURAT, BERTHIER, AUGEREAU, VICTOR, and other marshals of corps that have been engaged in this part of the field--all perspiring, muddy, and fatigued.]

NAPOLEON

Baseness so gross I had not guessed of them!-- The thirty thousand false Bavarians I looked on losing not unplacidly; But these troth-swearing sober Saxonry I reckoned staunch by virtue of their king!

Thirty-five thousand and gone! It magnifies A failure into a catastrophe....

Murat, we must retreat precipitately, And not as hope had dreamed! Begin it then This very hour.--Berthier, write out the orders.-- Let me sit down.

[A chair is brought out from the mill. NAPOLEON sinks into it, and BERTHIER, stooping over the fire, begins writing to the Emperor's dictation, the marshals looking with gloomy faces at the flaming logs.

NAPOLEON has hardly dictated a line when he stops short. BERTHIER turns round and finds that he has dropt asleep.]

MURAT [sullenly]

Far better not disturb him; He'll soon enough awake!

[They wait, muttering to one another in tones expressing weary indifference to issues. NAPOLEON sleeps heavily for a quarter of and hour, during which the moon rises over the field. At the end he starts up stares around him with astonishment.]

NAPOLEON

Am I awake?

Or is this all a dream?--Ah, no. Too real!...

And yet I have seen ere now a time like this.

[The dictation is resumed. While it is in progress there can be heard between the words of NAPOLEON the persistent cries from the plain, rising and falling like those of a vast rookery far away, intermingled with the trampling of hoofs and the rumble of wheels.

The bivouac fires of the engirdling enemy glow all around except for a small segment to the west--the track of retreat, still kept open by BERTRAND, and already taken by the baggage-waggons.