The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 75

Quaint poesy, and real romance of war!

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Mock on, Shade, if thou wilt! But others find Poesy ever lurk where pit-pats poor mankind!

[The scene is cloaked in darkness.]

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 pa.s.sed 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 overtaken 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, appropriating 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.]

SECOND DESERTER [under his voice]

We be shot corpses! Ay, faith, we be! Why didn't 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!

FIRST DESERTER

You lie low with your picking off, or he may pick off you! Thank G.o.d 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.

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.]

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!