LITMIR.BIZ

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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

      

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