SCENE VI[10]
AN INN AT RENNES
[Night. A sleeping-chamber. Two candles are burning near a bed
in an alcove, and writing-materials are on the table.
The French admiral, VILLENEUVE, partly undressed, is pacing up
and down the room.]
VILLENEUVE
These hauntings have at last nigh proved to me
That this thing must be done. Illustrious foe
And teacher, Nelson: blest and over blest
In thy outgoing at the noon of strife
When glory clasped thee round; while wayward Death
Refused my coaxings for the like-timed call!
Yet I did press where thickest missiles fell,
And both by precept and example showed
Where lay the line of duty, patriotism,
And honour, in that combat of despair.
[He see himself in the glass as he passes.]
Unfortunate Villeneuve!—whom fate has marked
To suffer for too firm a faithfulness.—
An Emperor’s chide is a command to die.—
By him accursed, forsaken by my friend,
Awhile stern England’s prisoner, then unloosed
Like some poor dolt unworth captivity,
Time serves me now for ceasing. Why not cease?...
When, as Shades whisper in the chasmal night,
“Better, far better, no percipience here.”—
O happy lack, that I should have no child
To come into my hideous heritage,
And groan beneath the burden of my name![11]
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
I’ll speak. His mood is ripe for such a parle.
[Sending a voice into VILLENEUVE’S ear.]
Thou dost divine the hour!
VILLENEUVE
But those stern Nays,
That heretofore were audible to me
At each unhappy time I strove to pass?
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
Have been annulled. The Will grants exit freely;
Yea, It says “Now.” Therefore make now thy time.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
May his sad sunken soul merge into nought
Meekly and gently as a breeze at eve!
VILLENEUVE
From skies above me and the air around
Those callings which so long have circled me
At last do whisper “Now.” Now it shall be!
[He seals a letter, and addresses it to his wife; then takes a
dagger from his accoutrements that are hanging alongside, and,
lying down upon his back on the bed, stabs himself determinedly
in many places, leaving the weapon in the last wound.]
Ungrateful master; generous foes; Farewell!
[VILLENEUVE dies; and the scene darkens.]
SCENE VII
KING GEORGE’S WATERING-PLACE, SOUTH WESSEX
[The interior of the “Old Rooms” Inn. Boatmen and burghers are
sitting on settles round the fire, smoking and drinking.