The Dynasts

Act Fourth

SCENE I

KING GEORGE'S WATERING-PLACE, SOUTH WESSEX

[A sunny day in autumn. A room in the red-brick royal residence

know as Gloucester Lodge.(8)

At a front triple-lighted window stands a telescope on a tripod.

Through the open middle sash is visible the crescent-curved

expanse of the Bay as a sheet of brilliant translucent green,

on which ride vessels of war at anchor. On the left hand white

cliffs stretch away till they terminate in St. Aldhelm's Head,

and form a background to the level water-line on that side. In

the centre are the open sea and blue sky. A near headland rises

on the right, surmounted by a battery, over which appears the

remoter bald grey brow of the Isle of Slingers.

In the foreground yellow sands spread smoothly, whereon there

are sundry temporary erections for athletic sports; and closer

at hand runs an esplanade on which a fashionable crowd is

promenading. Immediately outside the Lodge are companies of

soldiers, groups of officers, and sentries.

Within the room the KING and PITT are discovered. The KING'S

eyes show traces of recent inflammation, and the Minister has

a wasted look.]

KING

Yes, yes; I grasp your reasons, Mr. Pitt,

And grant you audience gladly. More than that,

Your visit to this shore is apt and timely,

And if it do but yield you needful rest

From fierce debate, and other strains of office

Which you and I in common have to bear,

'Twill be well earned. The bathing is unmatched

Elsewhere in Europe,--see its mark on me!--

The air like liquid life.--But of this matter:

What argue these late movements seen abroad?

What of the country now the session's past;

What of the country, eh? and of the war?

PITT

The thoughts I have laid before your Majesty

Would make for this, in sum:--

That Mr. Fox, Lord Grenville, and their friends,

Be straightway asked to join. With Melville gone,

With Sidmouth, and with Buckinghamshire too,

The steerage of affairs has stood of late

Somewhat provisional, as you, sir, know,

With stop-gap functions thrust on offices

Which common weal can tolerate but awhile.

So, for the weighty reasons I have urged,

I do repeat my most respectful hope

To win your Majesty's ungrudged assent

To what I have proposed.

KING

But nothing, sure,

Has been more plain to all, dear Mr. Pitt,

Than that your own proved energy and scope

Is ample, without aid, to carry on

Our just crusade against the Corsican.

Why, then, go calling Fox and Grenville in?

Such helps we need not. Pray you think upon't,

And speak to me again.--We've had alarms

Making us skip like crackers at our heels,

That Bonaparte had landed close hereby.

PITT

Such rumours come as regularly as harvest.

KING

And now he has left Boulogne with all his host?

Was it his object to invade at all,

Or was his vast assemblage there a blind?

PITT

Undoubtedly he meant invasion, sir,

Had fortune favoured. He may try it yet.

And, as I said, could we but close with Fox---

KING

But, but;--I ask, what is his object now?

Lord Nelson's Captain--Hardy--whose old home

Stands in a peaceful vale hard by us here--

Who came two weeks ago to see his friends,

I talked to in this room a lengthy while.

He says our navy still is in thick night

As to the aims by sea of Bonaparte

Now the Boulogne attempt has fizzled out,

And what he schemes afloat with Spain combined.

The "Victory" lay that fortnight at Spithead,

And Nelson since has gone aboard and sailed;

Yes, sailed again. The "Royal Sovereign" follows,

And others her. Nelson was hailed and cheered

To huskiness while leaving Southsea shore,

Gentle and simple wildly thronging round.

PITT

Ay, sir. Young women hung upon his arm,

And old ones blessed, and stroked him with their hands.

KING

Ah--you have heard, of course. God speed him, Pitt.

PITT

Amen, amen!

KING

I read it as a thing

Of signal augury, and one which bodes

Heaven's confidence in me and in my line,

That I should rule as King in such an age! . . .

Well, well.--So this new march of Bonaparte's

Was unexpected, forced perchance on him?

PITT

It may be so, your Majesty; it may.

Last noon the Austrian ambassador,

Whom I consulted ere I posted down,

Assured me that his latest papers word

How General Mack and eighty thousand men

Have made good speed across Bavaria

To wait the French and give them check at Ulm,

That fortress-frontier-town, entrenched and walled,

A place long chosen as a vantage-point

Whereon to encounter them as they outwind

From the blind shades and baffling green defiles

Of the Black Forest, worn with wayfaring.

Here Mack will intercept his agile foe

Hasting to meet the Russians in Bohemia,

And cripple him, if not annihilate.

Thus now, sir, opens out this Great Alliance

Of Russia, Austria, England, whereto I

Have lent my earnest efforts through long months,

And the realm gives her money, ships, and men.--

It claps a muffler round the c**k's steel spurs,

And leaves me sanguine on his overthrow.

But, then,--this coalition of resources

Demands a strong and active Cabinet

To aid your Majesty's directive hand;

And thus I urge again the said additions--

These brilliant intellects of the other side

Who stand by Fox. With us conjoined, they---

KING

What, what, again--in face of my sound reasons!

Believe me, Pitt, you underrate yourself;

You do not need such aid. The splendid feat

Of banding Europe in a righteous cause

That you have achieved, so soon to put to shame

This wicked bombardier of dynasties

That rule by right Divine, goes straight to prove

We had best continue as we have begun,

And call no partners to our management.

To fear dilemmas horning up ahead

Is not your wont. Nay, nay, now, Mr. Pitt,

I must be firm. And if you love your King

You'll goad him not so rashly to embrace

This Fox-Grenville faction and its friends.

Rather than Fox, why, give me civil war!

Hey, what? But what besides?

PITT

I say besides, sir, . . . nothing!

[A silence.]

KING (cheerfully)

The Chancellor's here, and many friends of mine: Lady Winchelsea,

Lord and Lady Chesterfield, Lady Bulkeley, General Garth, and Mr.

Phipps the oculist--not the least important to me. He is a worthy

and a skilful man. My eyes, he says, are as marvellously improved

in durability as I know them to be in power. I have arranged to go

to-morrow with the Princesses, and the Dukes of Cumberland, Sussex,

and Cambridge (who are also here) for a ride on the Ridgeway, and

through the Camp on the downs. You'll accompany us there?

PITT

I am honoured by your Majesty's commands.

[PITT looks resignedly out of the window.]

What curious structure do I see outside, sir?

KING

It's but a stage, a type of all the world. The burgesses have

arranged it in my honour. At six o'clock this evening there are

to be combats at single-stick to amuse the folk; four guineas

the prize for the man who breaks most heads. Afterward there

is to be a grinning match through horse-collars--a very humorous

sport which I must stay here and witness; for I am interested in

whatever entertains my subjects.

PITT

Not one in all the land but knows it, sir.

KING

Now, Mr. Pitt, you must require repose;

Consult your own convenience then, I beg,

On when you leave.

PITT

I thank your Majesty.

[He departs as one whose purpose has failed, and the scene shuts.]

SCENE II

BEFORE THE CITY OF ULM

[A prospect of the city from the east, showing in the foreground

a low-lying marshy country bounded in mid-distance by the banks

of the Danube, which, bordered by poplars and willows, flows

across the picture from the left to the Elchingen Bridge near

the right of the scene, and is backed by irregular heights and

terraces of espaliered vines. Between these and the river stands

the city, crowded with old gabled houses and surrounded by walls,

bastions, and a ditch, all the edifices being dominated by the

nave and tower of the huge Gothic Munster.

On the most prominent of the heights at the back--the Michaelsberg

--to the upper-right of the view, is encamped the mass of the

Austrian army, amid half-finished entrenchments. Advanced posts

of the same are seen south-east of the city, not far from the

advanced corps of the French Grand-Army under SOULT, MARMONT,

LANNES, NEY, and DUPONT, which occupy in a semicircle the whole

breadth of the flat landscape in front, and extend across the

river to higher ground on the right hand of the panorama.

Heavy mixed drifts of rain and snow are descending impartially

on the French and on the Austrians, the downfall nearly blotting

out the latter on the hills. A chill October wind wails across

the country, and the poplars yield slantingly to the gusts.]

DUMB SHOW

Drenched peasants are busily at work, fortifying the heights of

the Austrian position in the face of the enemy. Vague companies

of Austrians above, and of the French below, hazy and indistinct

in the thick atmosphere, come and go without apparent purpose

near their respective lines.

Closer at hand NAPOLEON, in his familiar blue-grey overcoat, rides

hither and thither with his marshals, haranguing familiarly the

bodies of soldiery as he passes them, and observing and pointing

out the disposition of the Austrians to his companions.

Thicker sheets of rain fly across as the murk of evening increases,

which at length entirely obscures the prospect, and cloaks its

bleared lights and fires.

SCENE III

ULM. WITHIN THE CITY

[The interior of the Austrian headquarters on the following

morning. A tempest raging without.

GENERAL MACK, haggard and anxious, the ARCHDUKE FERDINAND, PRINCE

SCHWARZENBERG, GENERAL JELLACHICH, GENERALS RIESC, BIBERBACH, and

other field officers discovered, seated at a table with a map

spread out before them. A wood fire blazes between tall andirons

in a yawning fireplace. At every more than usually boisterous

gust of wind the smoke flaps into the room.]

MACK

The accursed cunning of our adversary

Confounds all codes of honourable war,

Which ever have held as granted that the track

Of armies bearing hither from the Rhine--

Whether in peace or strenuous invasion--

Should pierce the Schwarzwald, and through Memmingen,

And meet us in our front. But he must wind

And corkscrew meanly round, where foot of man

Can scarce find pathway, stealing up to us

Thiefwise, by out back door! Nevertheless,

If English war-fleets be abreast Boulogne,

As these deserters tell, and ripe to land there,

It destines Bonaparte to pack him back

Across the Rhine again. We've but to wait,

And see him go.

ARCHDUKE

But who shall say if these bright tales be true?

MACK

Even then, small matter, your Imperial Highness;

The Russians near us daily, and must soon--

Ay, far within the eight days I have named--

Be operating to untie this knot,

If we hold on.

ARCHDUKE

Conjectures these--no more;

I stomach not such waiting. Neither hope

Has kernel in it. I and my cavalry

With caution, when the shadow fall to-night,

Can bore some hole in this engirdlement;

Outpass the gate north-east; join General Werneck,

And somehow cut our way Bohemia-wards:

Well worth the hazard, in our straitened case!

MACK (firmly)

The body of our force stays here with me.

And I am much surprised, your Highness, much,

You mark not how destructive 'tis to part!

If we wait on, for certain we should wait

In our full strength, compacted, undispersed

By such partition as your Highness plans.

SCHWARZENBERG

There's truth in urging we should not divide,

But weld more closely.--Yet why stay at all?

Methinks there's but one sure salvation left,

To wit, that we conjunctly march herefrom,

And with much circumspection, towards the Tyrol.

The subtle often rack their wits in vain--

Assay whole magazines of strategy--

To shun ill loomings deemed insuperable,

When simple souls by stumbling up to them

Find the grim shapes but air. But let use grant

That the investing French so ring us in

As to leave not a span for such exploit;

Then go we--throw ourselves upon their steel,

And batter through, or die!--

What say you, Generals? Speak your minds, I pray.

JELLACHICH

I favour marching out--the Tyrol way.

RIESC

Bohemia best! The route thereto is open.

ARCHDUKE

My course is chosen. O this black campaign,

Which Pitt's alarmed dispatches pricked us to,

All unforseeing! Any risk for me

Rather than court humiliation here!

[MACK has risen during the latter remarks, walked to the

window, and looked out at the rain. He returns with an air

of embarrassment.]

MACK (to Archduke)

It is my privilege firmly to submit

That your Imperial Highness undertake

No venturous vaulting into risks unknown.--

Assume that you, Sire, as you have proposed,

With your light regiments and the cavalry,

Detach yourself from us, to scoop a way

By circuits northwards through the Rauhe Alps

And Herdenheim, into Bohemia:

Reports all point that you will be attacked,

Enveloped, borne on to capitulate.

What worse can happen here?--

Remember, Sire, the Emperor deputes me,

Should such a clash arise as has arisen,

To exercise supreme authority.

The honour of our arms, our race, demands

That none of your Imperial Highness' line

Be pounded prisoner by this vulgar foe,

Who is not France, but an adventurer,

Imposing on that country for his gain.

ARCHDUKE

But it seems clear to me that loitering here

Is full as like to compass our surrender

As moving hence. And ill it therefore suits

The mood of one of my high temperature

To pause inactive while await me means

Of desperate cure for these so desperate ills!

[The ARCHDUKE FERDINAND goes out. A troubled, silence follows,

during which the gusts call into the chimney, and raindrops spit

on the fire.]

SCHWARZENBERG

The Archduke bears him shrewdly in this course.

We may as well look matters in the face,

And that we are cooped and cornered is most clear;

Clear it is, too, that but a miracle

Can work to loose us! I have stoutly held

That this man's three years' ostentatious scheme

To fling his army on the tempting shores

Of our Allies the English was a--well--

Scarce other than a trick of thimble-rig

To still us into false security.

JELLACHICH

Well, I know nothing. None needs list to me,

But, on the whole, to southward seems the course

For lunging, all in force, immediately.

[Another pause.]

SPIRIT SINISTER

The Will throws Mack again into agitation:

Ho-ho--what he'll do now!

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Nay, hard one, nay;

The clouds weep for him!

SPIRIT SINISTER

If he must;

And it's good antic at a vacant time!

[MACK goes restlessly to the door, and is heard pacing about

the vestibule, and questioning the aides and other officers

gathered there.]

A GENERAL

He wavers like this smoke-wreath that inclines

Or north, or south, as the storm-currents rule!

MACK (returning)

Bring that deserter hither once again.

[A French soldier is brought in, blindfolded and guarded. The

bandage is removed.]

Well, tell us what he says.

AN OFFICER (after speaking to the prisoner in French)

He still repeats

That the whole body of the British strength

Is even now descending on Boulogne,

And that self-preservation must, if need,

Clear us from Bonaparte ere many days,

Who momently is moving.

MACK

Still retain him.

[He walks to the fire, and stands looking into it. The soldier

is taken out.]

JELLACHICH (bending over the map in argument with RIESC)

I much prefer our self-won information;

And if we have Marshal Soult at Landsberg here,

(Which seems to be truth, despite this man,)

And Dupont hard upon us at Albeck,

With Ney not far from Gunzburg; somewhere here,

Or further down the river, lurking Lannes,

Our game's to draw off southward--if we can!

MACK (turning)

I have it. This we'll do. You Jellachich,

Unite with Spangen's troops at Memmingen,

To fend off mischief there. And you, Riesc,

Will make your utmost haste to occupy

The bridge and upper ground at Elchingen,

And all along the left bank of the stream,

Till you observe whereon to concentrate

And sever their connections. I couch here,

And hold the city till the Russians come.

A GENERAL (in a low voice)

Disjunction seems of all expedients worst:

If any stay, then stay should every man,

Gather, inlace, and close up hip to hip,

And perk and bristle hedgehog-like with spines!

MACK

The conference is ended, friends, I say,

And orders will be issued here forthwith.

[Guns heard.]

AN OFFICER

Surely that's from the Michaelsberg above us?

MACK

Never care. Here we stay. In five more days

The Russians hail, and we regain our bays.

[Exeunt severally.]

SCENE IV

BEFORE ULM. THE SAME DAY

[A high wind prevails, and rain falls in torrents. An elevated

terrace near Elchingen forms the foreground.]

DUMB SHOW

From the terrace BONAPARTE surveys and dictates operations against

the entrenched heights of the Michaelsberg that rise in the middle

distance on the right above the city. Through the gauze of

descending waters the French soldiery can be discerned climbing

to the attack under NEY.

They slowly advance, recede, re-advance, halt. A time of suspense

follows. Then they are seen in a state of irregular movement, even

confusion; but in the end they carry the heights with the bayonet.

Below the spot whereon NAPOLEON and his staff are gathered,

glistening wet and plastered with mud, obtrudes on the left the

village of Elchingen, now in the hands of the French. Its white-

walled monastery, its bridge over the Danube, recently broken by

the irresistible NEY, wear a desolated look, and the stream, which

is swollen by the rainfall and rasped by the storm, seems wanly to

sympathize.

Anon shells are dropped by the French from the summits they have

gained into the city below. A bomb from an Austrian battery falls

near NAPOLEON, and in bursting raises a fountain of mud. The

Emperor retreats with his officers to a less conspicuous station.

Meanwhile LANNES advances from a position near NAPOLEON till his

columns reach the top of the Frauenberg hard by. The united corps

of LANNES and NEY descend on the inner slope of the heights towards

the city walls, in the rear of the retreating Austrians. One

of the French columns scales a bastion, but NAPOLEON orders the

assault to be discontinued, and with the wane of day the spectacle

disappears.

SCENE V

THE SAME. THE MICHAELSBERG

[A chilly but rainless noon three days later. At the back of the

scene, northward, rise the Michaelsberg heights; below stretches

the panorama of the city and the Danube. On a secondary eminence

forming a spur of the upper hill, a fire of logs is burning, the

foremost group beside it being NAPOLEON and his staff, the former

in his shabby greatcoat and plain turned-up hat, walking to and

fro with his hands behind him, and occasionally stopping to warm

himself. The French infantry are drawn up in a dense array at

the back of these.

The whole Austrian garrison of Ulm marches out of the city gate

opposite NAPOLEON. GENERAL MACK is at the head, followed by

GIULAY, GOTTESHEIM, KLINAU, LICHTENSTEIN, and many other officers,

who advance to BONAPARTE and deliver their swords.]

MACK

Behold me, Sire. Mack the unfortunate!

NAPOLEON

War, General, ever has its ups and downs,

And you must take the better and the worse

As impish chance or destiny ordains.

Come near and warm you here. A glowing fire

Is life on the depressing, mired, moist days

Of smitten leaves down-dropping clammily,

And toadstools like the putrid lungs of men.

(To his Lieutenants.) Cause them so stand to right and left of me.

[The Austrian officers arrange themselves as directed, and the

body of the Austrians now file past their Conqueror, laying down

their arms as they approach; some with angry gestures and words,

others in moody silence.]

Listen, I pray you, Generals gathered her.

I tell you frankly that I know not why

Your master wages this wild war with me.

I know not what he seeks by such injustice,

Unless to give me practice in my trade--

That of a soldier--whereto I was bred:

Deemed he my craft might slip from me, unplied?

Let him now own me still a dab therein!

MACK

Permit me, your Imperial Majesty,

To speak one word in answer; which is this,

No war was wished for by my Emperor:

Russia constrained him to it!

NAPOLEON

If that be,

You are no more a European power.--

I would point out to him that my resources

Are not confined to these my musters here;

My prisoners of war, in route for France,

Will see some marks of my resources there!

Two hundred thousand volunteers, right fit,

Will join my standards at a single nod,

And in six weeks prove soldiers to the bone,

Whilst you recruits, compulsion's scavengings,

Scarce weld to warriors after toilsome years.

But I want nothing on this Continent:

The English only are my enemies.

Ships, colonies, and commerce I desire,

Yea, therewith to advantage you as me.

Let me then charge your Emperor, my brother,

To turn his feet the shortest way to peace.--

All states must have an end, the weak, the strong;

Ay; even may fall the dynasty of Lorraine!

[The filing past and laying down of arms by the Austrian army

continues with monotonous regularity, as if it would never end.]

NAPOLEON (in a murmur, after a while)

Well, what cares England! She has won her game;

I have unlearnt to threaten her from Boulogne. . . .

Her gold it is that forms the weft of this

Fair tapestry of armies marshalled here!

Likewise of Russia's drawing steadily nigh.

But they may see what these see, by and by.

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

So let him speak, the while we clearly sight him

Moved like a figure on a lantern-slide.

Which, much amazing uninitiate eyes,

The all-compelling crystal pane but drags

Wither the showman wills.

SPIRIT IRONIC

And yet, my friend,

The Will itself might smile at this collapse

Of Austria's men-at-arms, so drolly done;

Even as, in your phantasmagoric show,

The deft manipulator of the slide

Might smile at his own art.

CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music)

Ah, no: ah, no!

It is impassible as glacial snow.--

Within the Great Unshaken

These painted shapes awaken

A lesser thrill than doth the gentle lave

Of yonder bank by Danube's wandering wave

Within the Schwarzwald heights that give it flow!

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

But O, the intolerable antilogy

Of making figments feel!

SPIRIT IRONIC

Logic's in that.

It does not, I must own, quite play the game.

CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS (aerial music)

And this day wins for Ulm a dingy fame,

Which centuries shall not bleach from her name!

[The procession of Austrians continues till the scene is hidden

by haze.]

SCENE VI

LONDON. SPRING GARDENS

[Before LORD MALMESBURY'S house, on a Sunday morning in the

same autumn. Idlers pause and gather in the background.

PITT enters, and meets LORD MULGRAVE.]

MULGRAVE

Good day, Pitt. Ay, these leaves that skim the ground

With withered voices, hint that sunshine-time

Is well-nigh past.--And so the game's begun

Between him and the Austro-Russian force,

As second movement in the faceabout

From Boulogne shore, with which he has hocussed us?--

What has been heard on't? Have they clashed as yet?

PITT

The Emperor Francis, partly at my instance,

Has thrown the chief command on General Mack,

A man most capable and far of sight.

He centres by the Danube-bank at Ulm,

A town well-walled, and firm for leaning on

To intercept the French in their advance

From the Black Forest toward the Russian troops

Approaching from the east. If Bonaparte

Sustain his marches at the break-neck speed

That all report, they must have met ere now.

--There is a rumour . . . quite impossible! . . .

MULGRAVE

You still have faith in Mack as strategist?

There have been doubts of his far-sightedness.

PITT (hastily)

I know, I know.--I am calling here at Malmesbury's

At somewhat an unceremonious time

To ask his help to translate this Dutch print

The post has brought. Malmesbury is great at Dutch,

Learning it long at Leyden, years ago.

[He draws a newspaper from his pocket, unfolds it, and glances

it down.]

There's news here unintelligible to me

Upon the very matter! You'll come in?

[They call at LORD MAMESBURY'S. He meets them in the hall, and

welcomes them with an apprehensive look of foreknowledge.]

PITT

Pardon this early call. The packet's in,

And wings me this unreadable Dutch paper,

So, as the offices are closed to-day,

I have brought it round to you.

(Handling the paper.)

What does it say?

For God's sake, read it out. You know the tongue.

MALMESBURY (with hesitation)

I have glanced it through already--more than once--

A copy having reached me, too, by now . . .

We are in the presence of a great disaster!

See here. It says that Mack, enjailed in Ulm

By Bonaparte--from four side shutting round--

Capitulated, and with all his force

Laid down his arms before his conqueror!

[PITT's face changes. A silence.]

MULGRAVE

Outrageous! Ignominy unparalleled!

PITT

By God, my lord, these statement must be false!

These foreign prints are trustless as Cheap Jack

Dumfounding yokels at a country fair.

I heed no word of it.--Impossible.

What! Eighty thousand Austrians, nigh in touch

With Russia's levies that Kutuzof leads,

To lay down arms before the war's begun?

'Tis too much!

MALMESBURY

But I fear it is too true!

Note the assevered source of the report--

One beyond thought of minters of mock tales.

The writer adds that military wits

Cry that the little Corporal now makes war

In a new way, using his soldiers' legs

And not their arms, to bring him victory.

Ha-ha! The quip must sting the Corporal's foes.

PITT (after a pause)

O vacillating Prussia! Had she moved,

Had she but planted one foot firmly down,

All this had been averted.--I must go.

'Tis sure, 'tis sure, I labour but in vain!

[MALMESBURY accompanies him to the door, and PITT walks away

disquietedly towards Whitehall, the other two regarding him

as he goes.]

MULGRAVE

Too swiftly he declines to feebleness,

And these things well might shake a stouter frame!

MALMESBURY

Of late the burden of all Europe's cares,

Of hiring and maintaining half her troops,

His single pair of shoulders has upborne,

Thanks to the obstinacy of the King.--

His thin, strained face, his ready irritation,

Are ominous signs. He may not be for long.

MULGRAVE

He alters fast, indeed,--as do events.

MALMESBURY

His labour's lost; and all our money gone!

It looks as if this doughty coalition

On which we have lavished so much pay and pains

Would end in wreck.

MULGRAVE

All is not over yet;

The gathering Russian forces are unbroke.

MALMESBURY

Well; we shall see. Should Boney vanquish these,

And silence all resistance on that side,

His move will then be backward to Boulogne,

And so upon us.

MULGRAVE

Nelson to our defence!

MALMESBURY

Ay; where is Nelson? Faith, by this time

He may be sodden; churned in Biscay swirls;

Or blown to polar bears by boreal gales;

Or sleeping amorously in some calm cave

On the Canaries' or Atlantis' shore

Upon the bosom of his Dido dear,

For all that we know! Never a sound of him

Since passing Portland one September day--

To make for Cadiz; so 'twas then believed.

MULGRAVE

He's staunch. He's watching, or I am much deceived.

[MULGRAVE departs. MALMESBURY goes within. The scene shuts.]

In the 1600s, Balthasar Gracian, a jesuit priest wrote 300 aphorisms on living life called "The Art of Worldly Wisdom." Join our newsletter below and read them all, one at a time.