Culture. Oh, no.
Emperor. I dreamed there was no war. In my dream they came to me and I forbade the war. I saw the Fatherland smiling and prosperous, as it was before the war.
Culture. It was you who made the war, O Emperor!
Emperor (huskily). Belgium?
Culture. There is no Belgium now, but over what was Belgium there rests a soft light, as of a helm, and through it is a flaming sword.
Emperor. I dreamed I had kept my plighted word to Belgium.
Culture. It was you, O Emperor, who broke your plighted word and laid waste the land. In the lust for victory you violated even the laws of war which men contrive so that when the sword is sheathed they may dare again face their Maker. Your way to Him is lighted now by smouldering spires and ashes that were once fair academic groves of mine, and you shall seek Him over roads cobbled with the moans of innocents.
Emperor. In my dream I thought England was grown degenerate and would not fight.
Culture. She fought you where Crécy was, and Agincourt, and Waterloo, with all their dead to help her. The dead became quick in their ancient graves, stirred by the tread of the island feet, and they cried out: "How is England doing?" The living answered the dead upon their bugles with the "All's well." England, O Emperor, was grown degenerate, but you, you, have made her great.
Emperor. France, Russia?