The Dynasts

Act First

CHARACTERS

I. PHANTOM INTELLIGENCES

THE ANCIENT SPIRIT OF THE YEARS/CHORUS OF THE YEARS.

THE SPIRIT OF THE PITIES/CHORUS OF THE PITIES.

SPIRITS SINISTER AND IRONIC/CHORUSES OF SINISTER AND IRONIC SPIRITS.

THE SPIRIT OF RUMOUR/CHORUS OF RUMOURS.

THE SHADE OF THE EARTH.

SPIRIT-MESSENGERS.

RECORDING ANGELS.

II. PERSONS (The names in lower case are 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. TWO YOUNG LORDS. Lords Yarmouth and Keith. ANOTHER LORD. Other Peers, Ambassadors, Ministers, ex-Ministers, Members of Parliament, and Persons of Quality and Office.

. . . . . . . . . .

Sir Arthur Wellesley, afterwards Lord Wellington. SIR JOHN MOORE. SIR JOHN HOPE. Sir David Baird. General Beresford. COLONEL ANDERSON. COLONEL GRAHAM. MAJOR COLBORNE, principal Aide-de-Camp to MOORE. CAPTAIN HARDINGE. Paget, Fraser, Hill, Napier. A CAPTAIN OF HUSSARS AND OTHERS. Other English Generals, Colonels, Aides, Couriers, and Military Officers. TWO SPIES. TWO ARMY SURGEONS. AN ARMY CHAPLAIN. A SERGEANT OF THE FORTY-THIRD. 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 CEREMONIES. SERVANTS. A Beau, A Constable, etc.

. . . . . . . . . .

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. Joseph Bonaparte. Louis and Jerome Bonaparte, and other Members of Napoleon's Family. CAMBACERES, ARCH-CHANCELLOR. TALLEYRAND. PRESIDENT OF THE SENATE. Caulaincourt. Lebrun, Duroc, Prince of Neufchatel, Grand-Duke of Berg. Eugene de Beauharnais. CHAMPAGNY, FOREIGN MINISTER DE BAUSSET, CHAMBERLAIN. MURAT. SOULT. MASSENA. BERTHIER. JUNOT. FOY. LOISON. Ney, Lannes, and other French Marshals, general and regimental Officers, Aides, and Couriers. TWO FRENCH SUBALTERNS. ANOTHER FRENCH OFFICER. French Forces.

. . . . . . . . . .

Grand Marshal, Grand Almoners, Heralds, and other Officials at Napoleon's marriage. ABBE DE PRADT, CHAPEL-MASTER. Corvisart, First Physician to Marie Louis. BOURDIER, SECOND PHYSICIAN to Marie Louise. DUBOIS, ACCOUCHEUR to Marie Louise. Maskers at a Ball. TWO SERVANTS AT THE TUILERIES. A PARISIAN CROWD. GUILLET DE GEVRILLIERE, A CONSPIRATOR. Louis XVIII. of France. French Princes in England.

. . . . . . . . . .

THE KING OF PRUSSIA. Prince Henry of Prussia. Prince Royal of Bavaria. PRINCE HOHENLOHE. Generals Ruchel, Tauenzien, and Attendant Officers. Prussian Forces. PRUSSIAN STRAGGLERS. BERLIN CITIZENS.

. . . . . . . . . .

CARLOS IV., KING OF SPAIN. FERNANDO, PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, Son to the King. GODOY, "PRINCE OF PEACE," Lover of the Queen. COUNT OF MONTIJO. VISCOUNT MATEROSA, Spanish Deputy. DON DIEGO DE LA VEGA, Spanish Deputy. Godoy's Guards and other Soldiery. SPANISH CITIZENS. A SERVANT TO GODOY. Spanish Forces. Camp-Followers.

. . . . . . . . . .

FRANCIS, EMPEROR OF AUSTRIA. METTERNICH. ANOTHER AUSTRIAN MINISTER. SCHWARZENBERG. D'AUDENARDE, AN EQUERRY. AUSTRIAN OFFICERS. AIDES-DE-CAMP. Austrian Forces. Couriers and Secretaries. VIENNESE CITIZENS.

. . . . . . . . . .

THE EMPEROR ALEXANDER. The Grand-Duke Constantine. Prince Labanoff. Count Lieven. Generals Bennigsen, Ouwaroff, 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 Minister and Members of Parliament, and other Ladies of Note.

. . . . . . . . . .

THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. HORTENSE, QUEEN OF HOLLAND. The Mother of Napoleon. Princess Pauline, and others of Napoleon's Family. DUCHESS OF MONTEBELLO. MADAME DE MONTESQUIOU. MADAME BLAISE, NURSE TO MARIE LOUIS. Wives of French Ministers, and of other Officials. Other Ladies of the French Court. DUCHESS OF ANGOULEME.

. . . . . . . . . .

LOUISA, QUEEN OF PRUSSIA. The Countess Voss, Lady-in-Waiting. BERLIN LADIES.

. . . . . . . . . .

MARIA 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 MARIE LOUISA, afterwards the EMPRESS MARIE LOUISE. MADAME METTERNICH. LADIES OF THE AUSTRIAN COURT.

. . . . . . . . . .

THE EMPRESS-MOTHER OF RUSSIA. GRAND-DUCHESS ANNE OF RUSSIA.

--

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.

[The secretary retires, and the servant shows in a man who calls himself GUILLET DE GEVRILLIERE--a tall, thin figure of thirty, with restless 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.]

GEVRILLIERE

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?

GEVRILLIERE

I did, sir.

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?

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 liked 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? Sir, I incline to spell you as a spy, And not the honest help for honest men You gave you out to be!

GEVRILLIERE

I beg, 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.

GEVRILLIERE

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?

GEVRILLIERE

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.

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) Till haled 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 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 GEVRILLIERE 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.

[The secretary goes out. FOX walks to the window in deep reflection till the secretary returns.]

SECRETARY

I was in time, sir. He has been detained.

FOX

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!-- 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 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.]

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 Paris and to London, turn and turn?

RUMOURS (chanting in antiphons)

I

The aforesaid tidings fro the minister, spokesman in England's cause to states afar,

II

Traverse the waters borne by one of such; and thereto Bonaparte's responses are:

I

"The principles of honour and of truth which ever actuate the sender's mind

II

"Herein are written largely! Take our thanks: we read that this conjuncture undesigned

I

"Unfolds felicitous means of showing you that still our eyes are set, as yours, on peace,

II

"To which great end the Treaty of Amiens must be the ground- work of our amities."

I

From London then: "The path to amity the King of England studies to pursue;

II

"With Russia hand in hand he is yours to close the long convulsions thrilling Europe through."

I

Still fare the shadowy missioners across, by Dover-road and Calais Channel-track,

II

From Thames-side towers to Paris palace-gates; from Paris leisurely to London back.

I

Till thus speaks France: "Much grief it gives us that, being pledged to treat, one Emperor with one King,

II

"You yet have struck a jarring counternote and tone that keys not with such promising.

I

"In these last word, then, of this pregnant parle; I trust I may persuade your Excellency

II

"That in no circumstance, on no pretence, a party to our pact can Russia be."

SPIRIT SINISTER

Fortunately for the manufacture of corpses by machinery Napoleon sticks to this veto, and so wards off the awkward catastrophe of a general peace descending upon Europe. Now England.

RUMOURS (continuing)

I

Thereon speeds down through Kent and Picardy, evenly as some southing sky-bird's shade:

II

"We gather not from your Imperial lines a reason why our words should be reweighed.

I

"We hold Russia not as our ally that is to be: she stands fully- plighted so;

II

"Thus trembles peace upon this balance-point: will you that Russia be let in or no?"

I

Then France rolls out rough words across the strait: "To treat with you confederate with the Tsar,

II

"Presumes us sunk in sloughs of shamefulness from which we yet stand gloriously afar!

I

"The English army must be Flanders-fed, and entering Picardy with pompous prance,

II

"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

Now 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 England's Minister?

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

The Tipstaff he Of the Will, the Many-masked, my good friend Death.-- The statesman's 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)

I

The smouldering dudgeon of the Prussian king, meanwhile, upon the horizon's rim afar

II

Bursts into running flame, that all his signs of friendliness were met by moves for war.

I

Attend and hear, for hear ye faintly may, his manifesto made at Erfurt town,

II

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 war's loud trade Rings with a roar unnatural, fitful, forced, Practised by woman's hands!

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

Of her view The enterprise is that of scores of men, The strength but half-a-ones.

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 adventurers for the realm Have blurred her picture, soiled her gentleness, And wrought her credit harm.

FIRST CITIZEN (vociferously)

Yes, by God: send and ultimatum to Paris, by God; that's what we'll do, by God. The 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-- 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 k****e 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 sss, 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 takes his place, has decided to order his 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 here 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

By God, I must to beer and 'bacco, to soften my rage!

[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 halt, draw their swords and whet them on the steps of the FRENCH AMBASSADOR'S residence as they pass. The noise of whetting is audible through the street.]

CHORUS OF THE PITIES (aerial music)

The soul of a nation distrest Is aflame, And heaving with eager unrest In its aim To assert its old prowess, and stouten its chronicled fame!

SEMICHORUS I

It boils in a boisterous thrill Through the mart, Unconscious well-nigh as the Will Of its part: Would it wholly might be so, and feel not the forthcoming 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 At 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 themselves 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 Landgrafenberg, 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 close to the latter, are the Prussians un 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!

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 Landgrafenberg. 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. 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 then 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?

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: 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, 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 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.

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.]

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 new. (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.

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?

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 joyful-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 the windows come troops of French dragoons heralding the arrival of BONAPARTE.

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 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.

FOURTH LADY

All objects on 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 they should be all dispatched to Paris As gifts to the Hotel 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?

FIRST LADY

Us?

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 the 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 Trafalgar, to a force despised, Was a wound which never has cicatrized.

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 Platz 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 renowned "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

All England's ports to suffer strict blockade; All traffic with that land to cease forthwith; All natives of her isles, wherever met, 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 monstrous 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 NIEMEN

[The scene is viewed from the windows of BONAPARTE'S temporary 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 movement, 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 NEUFCHATEL, MARSHAL BESSIERES, 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 year's snows shut over Lithuanian 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, O Eylau, field of the wide white spaces, And frozen lakes, and frozen limbs, and blood iced hard as it left the veins: Steel-cased squadrons swathed in cloud-drift, plunging to doom through pathless places, And forty thousand dead and near dead, strewing the early-lighted plains. 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 flattering 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 foreground 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. 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(14) (below)

Did you get much for me to send on?

SECOND ENGLISH 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 agree that France should have the Pope's dominions, Malta, and Egypt; that Napoleon's brother Joseph should have Sicily as well as Naples, and that they would partition the Ottoman Empire between them.

FIRST SPY

Cutting up Europe like a plum-pudding. Par nobile fratrum!

SECOND SPY

Then they 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 feel 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.

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 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.

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 for 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; 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 great 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?

NAPOLEON

Two in a bed I have slept, but never three.

ALEXANDER

Ha-ha! Delightful. And, then nextly, Spain?

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 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 reasons 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?

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 (cooly)

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?

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, nevertheless, 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, That 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.

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.)

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)

To your 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 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 room.

Here are now assembled MURAT, TALLEYRAND, KOURAKIN, KALKREUTH, BERTHIER, BESSIERES, 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.]

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.(15)

[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.]

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.]

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 OF THE EARTH

Some surly voice afar I heard 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 water citadel Blows counterblasting "Orders." Rumours tell.

RUMOUR I

"From havens of fierce France and her allies, With poor or precious freight of merchandize Whoso adventures, England pounds as prize!"

RUMOUR II

Thereat Napoleon 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.]