SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
We may impress him under visible shapes
That seem to shed a silent circling doom;
He’s such an one as can be so impressed,
And this much is among our privileges,
Well bounded as they be.—Let us draw near him.
[The Spirits of Years and of the Pities take the form of sea-birds,
which alight on the stern-balcony of VILLENEUVE’s ship, immediately
outside his cabin window. VILLENEUVE after a while looks up and
sees the birds watching him with large piercing eyes.]
VILLENEUVE
My apprehensions even outstep their cause,
As though some influence smote through yonder pane.
[He gazes listlessly, and resumes his broodings.]
—-Why dared I not disclose to him my thought,
As nightly worded by the whistling shrouds,
That Brest will never see our battled hulls
Helming to north in pomp of cannonry
To take the front in this red pilgrimage!
—-If so it were, now, that I’d screen my skin
From risks of bloody business in the brunt,
My acts could scarcely wear a difference.
Yet I would die to-morrow—not ungladly—
So far removed is carcase-care from me.
For no self do these apprehensions spring,
But for the cause.—Yes, rotten is our marine,
Which, while I know, the Emperor knows not,
And the pale secret chills! Though some there be
Would beard contingencies and buffet all,
I’ll not command a course so conscienceless.
Rather I’ll stand, and face Napoléon’s rage
When he shall learn what mean the ambiguous lines
That facts have forced from me.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES [to the Spirit of Years]
O Eldest-born of the Unconscious Cause—
If such thou beest, as I can fancy thee—
Why dost thou rack him thus? Consistency
Might be preserved, and yet his doom remain.
His olden courage is without reproach;
Albeit his temper trends toward gaingiving!
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
I say, as I have said long heretofore,
I know but narrow freedom. Feel’st thou not
We are in Its hand, as he?—Here, as elsewhere,
We do but as we may; no further dare.
[The birds disappear, and the scene is lost behind sea-mist.]
SCENE III
THE CAMP AND HARBOUR OF BOULOGNE
[The English coast in the distance. Near the Tour d’Ordre stands
a hut, with sentinels and aides outside; it is NAPOLÉON’s temporary
lodging when not at his headquarters at the Chateau of Pont-de-
Briques, two miles inland.]
DUMB SHOW
A courier arrives with dispatches, and enters the Emperor’s quarters,
whence he emerges and goes on with other dispatches to the hut of
DECRÈS, lower down. Immediately after, NAPOLÉON comes out from his
hut with a paper in his hand, and musingly proceeds towards an
eminence commanding the Channel.
Along the shore below are forming in a far-reaching line more
than a hundred thousand infantry. On the downs in the rear of
the camps fifteen thousand cavalry are manoeuvring, their
accoutrements flashing in the sun like a school of mackerel.
The flotilla lies in and around the port, alive with moving
figures.
With his head forward and his hands behind him the Emperor surveys
these animated proceedings in detail, but more frequently turns his
face toward the telegraph on the cliff to the southwest, erected to
signal when VILLENEUVE and the combined squadrons shall be visible
on the west horizon.
He summons one of the aides, who descends to the hut of DECRÈS.
DECRÈS comes out from his hut, and hastens to join the Emperor.
Dumb show ends.
[NAPOLÉON and DECRÈS advance to the foreground of the scene.]
NAPOLÉON
Decrès, this action with Sir Robert Calder
Three weeks ago, whereof we dimly heard,
And clear details of which I have just unsealed,
Is on the whole auspicious for our plan.
It seems that twenty of our ships and Spain’s—
None over eighty-gunned, and some far less—
Engaged the English off Cape Finisterre
With fifteen vessels of a hundred each.
We coolly fought and orderly as they,
And, but for mist, we had closed with victory.
Two English were much mauled, some Spanish damaged,
And Calder then drew off with his two wrecks
And Spain’s in tow, we giving chase forthwith.
Not overtaking him our admiral,
Having the coast clear for his purposes,
Entered Coruna, and found order there
To open the port of Brest and come on hither.
Thus hastes the moment when the double fleet
Of Villeneuve and of Ganteaume should appear.
[He looks again towards the telegraph.]
DECRÈS [with hesitation]
And should they not appear, your Majesty?
NAPOLÉON
Not? But they will; and do it early, too!
There’s nothing hinders them. My God, they must,
For I have much before me when this stroke
At England’s dealt. I learn from Talleyrand
That Austrian preparations threaten hot,
While Russia’s hostile schemes are ripening,
And shortly must be met.—My plan is fixed:
I am prepared for each alternative.
If Villeneuve come, I brave the British coast,
Convulse the land with fear [’tis even now
So far distraught, that generals cast about
To find new modes of warfare; yea, design
Carriages to transport their infantry!].—
Once on the English soil I hold it firm,
Descend on London, and the while my men
Salute the dome of Paul’s I cut the knot
Of all Pitt’s coalitions; setting free
From bondage to a cold manorial caste
A people who await it.
[They stand and regard the chalky cliffs of England, till NAPOLÉON
resumes]:
Should it be
Even that my admirals fail to keep the tryst—
A thing scarce thinkable, when all’s reviewed—
I strike this seaside camp, cross Germany,
With these two hundred thousand seasoned men,
And pause not till within Vienna’s walls
I cry checkmate. Next, Venice, too, being taken,
And Austria’s other holdings down that way,
The Bourbons also driven from Italy,
I strike at Russia—each in turn, you note,
Ere they can act conjoined.
Report to me
What has been scanned to-day upon the main,
And on your passage down request them there
To send Daru this way.