LITMIR.BIZ

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back the wounded: and, in fine,

       Be every one in this conviction firm:—

       That 'tis our sacred bond to overthrow

       These hirelings of a country not their own:

       Yea, England's hirelings, they!—a realm stiff-steeled

       In deathless hatred of our land and lives.

       “The campaign closes with this victory;

       And we return to find our standards joined

       By vast young armies forming now in France.

       Forthwith resistless, Peace establish we,

       Worthy of you, the nation, and of me!”

       “NAPOLEON.”

       [To his Marshals]

       So shall we prostrate these paid slaves of hers—

       England's, I mean—the root of all the war.

      VOICE OF MURAT

       The further details sent of Trafalgar

       Are not assuring.

      VOICE OF LANNES

       What may the details be?

      VOICE OF NAPOLEON [moodily]

       We learn that six-and-twenty ships of war,

       During the fight and after, struck their flags,

       And that the tigerish gale throughout the night

       Gave fearful finish to the English rage.

       By luck their Nelson's gone, but gone withal

       Are twenty thousand prisoners, taken off

       To gnaw their finger-nails in British hulks.

       Of our vast squadrons of the summer-time

       But rags and splintered remnants now remain.—

       Thuswise Villeneuve, poor craven, quitted him!

       And England puffed to yet more bombastry.

       —Well, well; I can't be everywhere. No matter;

       A victory's brewing here as counterpoise!

       These water-rats may paddle in their salt slush,

       And welcome. 'Tis not long they'll have the lead.

       Ships can be wrecked by land!

      ANOTHER VOICE

       And how by land,

       Your Majesty, if one may query such?

      VOICE OF NAPOLEON [sardonically]

       I'll bid all states of Europe shut their ports

       To England's arrogant bottoms, slowly starve

       Her bloated revenues and monstrous trade,

       Till all her hulls lie sodden in their docks,

       And her grey island eyes in vain shall seek

       One jack of hers upon the ocean plains!

      VOICE OF SOULT

       A few more master-strokes, your Majesty,

       Must be dealt hereabout to compass such!

      VOICE OF NAPOLEON

       God, yes!—Even here Pitt's guineas are the foes:

       'Tis all a duel 'twixt this Pitt and me;

       And, more than Russia's host, and Austria's flower,

       I everywhere to-night around me feel

       As from an unseen monster haunting nigh

       His country's hostile breath!—But come: to choke it

       By our to-morrow's feats, which now, in brief,

       I recapitulate.—First Soult will move

       To forward the grand project of the day:

       Namely: ascend in echelon, right to front,

       With Vandamme's men, and those of Saint Hilaire:

       Legrand's division somewhere further back—

       Nearly whereat I place my finger here—

       To be there reinforced by tirailleurs:

       Lannes to the left here, on the Olmutz road,

       Supported by Murat's whole cavalry.

       While in reserve, here, are the grenadiers

       Of Oudinot, the corps of Bernadotte,

       Rivaud, Drouet, and the Imperial Guard.

      MARSHAL'S VOICES

       Even as we understood, Sire, and have ordered.

       Nought lags but day, to light our victory!

      VOICE OF NAPOLEON

       Now let us up and ride the bivouacs round,

       And note positions ere the soldiers sleep.

       —Omit not from to-morrow's home dispatch

       Direction that this blow of Trafalgar

       Be hushed in all the news-sheets sold in France,

       Or, if reported, let it be portrayed

       As a rash fight whereout we came not worst,

       But were so broken by the boisterous eve

       That England claims to be the conqueror.

       [There emerge from the tent NAPOLEON and the marshals, who all

       mount the horses that are led up, and proceed through the frost

       and time towards the bivouacs. At the Emperor's approach to the

       nearest soldiery they spring up.]

      SOLDIERS

       The Emperor! He's here! The Emperor's here!

      AN OLD GRENADIER [approaching Napoleon familiarly]

       We'll bring thee Russian guns and flags galore.

       To celebrate thy coronation-day!

       [They gather into wisps the straw, hay, and other litter on which

       they have been lying, and kindling these at the dying fires, wave

       them as torches. This is repeated as each fire is reached, till

       the whole French position is one wide illumination. The most

       enthusiastic of the soldiers follow the Emperor in a throng as

       he progresses, and his whereabouts in the vast field is denoted

       by their cries.]

      CHORUS OF PITIES [aerial music]

       Strange suasive pull of personality!

      CHORUS OF IRONIC SPIRITS

       His projects they unknow, his grin unsee!

      CHORUS OF THE PITIES

       Their luckless hearts say blindly—He!

       [The night-shades close over.]

      SCENE II

       THE SAME. THE RUSSIAN POSITION

       [Midnight at the quarters of FIELD-MARSHAL PRINCE KUTUZOF at

       Kresnowitz. An inner apartment is discovered, roughly adapted

       as a council-room. On a table with candles is unfolded a large

       map of Austerlitz and its environs.

       The Generals are assembled in consultation round the table,

       WEIROTHER pointing to the map, LANGERON, BUXHOVDEN, and

       MILORADOVICH standing by, DOKHTOROF bending over the map,

       PRSCHEBISZEWSKY13 indifferently walking up and down. KUTUZOF, old and weary, with a scarred face and only one eye,

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