The Dynasts

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WOMAN (in undertones)

I can tell you a word or two on't. It is about His victuals. They
say that He lives upon human flesh, and has rashers o' baby every
morning for breakfast--for all the world like the Cernal Giant in
old ancient times!

YOUNG MAN

Ye can't believe all ye hear.

PRIVATE

I only believe half. And I only own--such is my challengeful
character--that perhaps He do eat pagan infants when He's in the
desert. But not Christian ones at home. Oh no--'tis too much.

WOMAN

Whether or no, I sometimes--God forgive me!--laugh wi' horror at
the queerness o't, till I am that weak I can hardly go round the
house. He should have the washing of 'em a few times; I warrant
'a wouldn't want to eat babies any more!

[A silence, during which they gaze around at the dark dome of the
starless sky.]

YOUNG MAN

There'll be a change in the weather soon, by the look o't. I can
hear the cows moo in Froom Valley as if I were close to 'em, and
the lantern at Max Turnpike is shining quite plain.

OLD MAN

Well, come in and taste a drop o' sommat we've got here, that will
warm the cockles of your heart as ye wamble homealong. We housed
eighty tuns last night for them that shan't be named--landed at
Lullwind Cove the night afore, though they had a narrow shave with
the riding-officers this run.

[They make toward the hut, when a light on the west horizon becomes
visible, and quickly enlarges.]

YOUNG MAN

He's come!

OLD MAN

Come he is, though you do say it! This, then, is the beginning of
what England's waited for!

[They stand and watch the light awhile.]

YOUNG MAN

Just what you was praising the Lord for by-now, Private Cantle.

PRIVATE

My meaning was---

WOMAN (simpering)

Oh that I hadn't married a fiery sojer, to make me bring fatherless
children into the world, all through his dreadful calling! Why
didn't a man of no sprawl content me!

OLD MAN (shouldering his pike)

We can't heed your innocent pratings any longer, good neighbours,
being in the King's service, and a hot invasion on. Fall in, fall
in, mate. Straight to the tinder-box. Quick march!

[The two men hasten to the hut, and are heard striking a flint
and steel. Returning with a lit lantern they ignite a blaze.
The private of the Locals and his wife hastily retreat by the
light of the flaming beacon, under which the purple rotundities
of the heath show like bronze, and the pits like the eye-sockets
of a skull.]

SPIRIT SINISTER

This is good, and spells blood. (To the Chorus of the Years.) I
assume that It means to let us carry out this invasion with pleasing
slaughter, so as not to disappoint my hope?

SEMICHORUS I OF THE YEARS (aerial music)

We carry out? Nay, but should we
Ordain what bloodshed is to be it!

SEMICHORUS II

The Immanent, that urgeth all,
Rules what may or may not befall!

SEMICHORUS I

Ere systemed suns were globed and lit
The slaughters of the race were writ,

SEMICHORUS II

And wasting wars, by land and sea,
Fixed, like all else, immutably!

SPIRIT SINISTER

Well; be it so. My argument is that War makes rattling good
history; but Peace is poor reading. So I back Bonaparte for
the reason that he will give pleasure to posterity.

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

Gross hypocrite!

CHORUS OF THE YEARS

We comprehend him not.

[The day breaks over the heathery upland, on which the beacon
is still burning. The morning reveals the white surface of a
highway which, coming from the royal watering-place beyond the
hills, stretched towards the outskirts of the heath and passes
away eastward.]

DUMB SHOW

Moving figures and vehicles dot the surface of the road, all
progressing in one direction, away from the coast. In the
foreground the shapes appear as those of civilians, mostly on
foot, but many in gigs and tradesmen's carts and on horseback.
When they reach an intermediate hill some pause and look back;
others enter on the next decline landwards without turning
their heads.

From the opposite horizon numerous companies of volunteers, in the
local uniform of red with green facings,(5) are moving coastwards in
companies; as are also irregular bodies of pikemen without uniform;
while on the upper slopes of the downs towards the shore regiments
of the line are visible, with cavalry and artillery; all passing
over to the coast.

At a signal from the Chief Intelligences two Phantoms of Rumour enter
on the highway in the garb of country-men.

FIRST PHANTOM (to Pedestrians)

Wither so fast, good neighbours, and before breakfast, too? Empty
bellies be bad to vamp on.

FIRST PEDESTRIAN

He's landed west'ard, out by Abbot's Beach. And if you have property
you'll save it and yourselves, as we are doing!

SECOND PEDESTRIAN

All yesterday the firing at Boulogne
Was like the seven thunders heard in Heaven
When the fierce angel spoke. So did he draw
Full-manned, flat-bottomed for the shallowest shore,
Dropped down to west, and crossed our frontage here.
Seen from above they specked the water-shine
As will a flight of swallows toward dim eve,
Descending on a smooth and loitering stream
To seek some eyot's sedge.

SECOND PHANTOM

We are sent to enlighten you and ease your soul.
Even now a courier canters to the port
To check the baseless scare.

FIRST PEDESTRIAN

These be inland men who, I warrant 'ee, don't know a lerret from a
lighter! Let's take no heed of such, comrade; and hurry on!

FIRST PHANTOM

Will you not hear
That what was seen behind the midnight mist,
Their oar-blades tossing twinkles to the moon,
Was but a fleet of fishing-craft belated
By reason of the vastness of their haul?

FIRST PEDESTRIAN

Hey? And d'ye know it?--Now I look back to the top o' Rudgeway
the folk seem as come to a pause there.--Be this true, never again
do I stir my stumps for any alarm short of the Day of Judgment!
Nine times has my rheumatical rest been broke in these last three
years by hues and cries of Boney upon us. 'Od rot the feller;
now he's made a fool of me once more, till my inside is like a
wash-tub, what wi' being so gallied, and running so leery!--But
how if you be one of the enemy, sent to sow these tares, so to
speak it, these false tidings, and coax us into a fancied safety?
Hey, neighbours? I don't, after all, care for this story!

SECOND PEDESTRIAN

Onwards again!
If Boney's come, 'tis best to be away;
And if he's not, why, we've a holiday!

[Exeunt Pedestrians. The Spirits of Rumour vanish, while the scene
seems to become involved in the smoke from the beacon, and slowly
disappears.(6)]

ACT THIRD

SCENE I

BOULOGNE. THE CHATEAU AT PONT-DE-BRIQUES

[A room in the Chateau, which is used as the Imperial quarters.
The EMPEROR NAPOLEON, and M. GASPARD MONGE, the mathematician
and philosopher, are seated at breakfast.]

OFFICER

Monsieur the Admiral Decres awaits
A moment's audience with your Majesty,
Or now, or later.

NAPOLEON

Bid him in at once--
At last Villeneuve has raised the Brest blockade!

[Enter DECRES.]

What of the squadron's movements, good Decres?
Brest opened, and all sailing Channelwards,
Like swans into a creek at feeding-time?

DECRES

Such news was what I'd hoped, your Majesty,
To send across this daybreak. But events
Have proved intractable, it seems, of late;
And hence I haste in person to report
The featless facts that just have dashed my---

NAPOLEON (darkening)

Well?

DECRES

Sire, at the very juncture when the fleets
Sailed out from Ferrol, fever raged aboard
"L'Achille" and "l'Algeciras": later on,
Mischief assailed our Spanish comrades' ships;
Several ran foul of neighbours; whose new hurts,
Being added to their innate clumsiness,
Gave hap the upper hand; and in quick course
Demoralized the whole; until Villeneuve,
Judging that Calder now with Nelson rode,
And prescient of unparalleled disaster
If he pushed on in so disjoint a trim,
Bowed to the inevitable; and thus, perforce,
Leaving to other opportunity
Brest and the Channel scheme, with vast regret
Steered southward into Cadiz.

NAPOLEON (having risen from the table)

What!--Is, then,
My scheme of years to be disdained and dashed
By this man's like, a wretched moral coward,
Whom you must needs foist on me as one fit
For full command in pregnant enterprise!

MONGE (aside)

I'm one too many here! Let me step out
Till this black squall blows over. Poor Decres.
Would that this precious project, disinterred
From naval archives of King Louis' reign,
Had ever lingered fusting where 'twas found.(7)

[Exit Monge.]

NAPOLEON

To help a friend you foul a country's fame!--
Decres, not only chose you this Villeneuve,
But you have nourished secret sour opinions
Akin to his, and thereby helped to scathe
As stably based a project as this age
Has sunned to ripeness. Ever the French Marine
Have you decried, ever contrived to bring
Despair into the fleet! Why, this Villeneuve,
Your man, this rank incompetent, this traitor--
Of whom I asked no more than fight and lose,
Provided he detain the enemy--
A frigate is too great for his command!
what shall be said of one who, at a breath,
When a few casual sailors find them sick,
When falls a broken boom or slitten sail,
When rumour hints that Calder's tubs and Nelson's
May join, and bob about in company,
Is straightway paralyzed, and doubles back
On all his ripened plans!--
Bring him, ay, bodily; hale him out from Cadiz,
Compel him up the Channel by main force,
And, having doffed him his supreme command,
Give the united squadrons to Ganteaume!

DECRES

Your Majesty, while umbraged, righteously,
By an event my tongue dragged dry to tell,
Makes my hard situation over-hard
By your ascription to the actors in't
Of motives such and such. 'Tis not for me
To answer these reproaches, Sire, and ask
Why years-long mindfulness of France's fame
In things marine should win no confidence.
I speak; but am unable to convince!

True is it that this man has been my friend
Since boyhood made us schoolmates; and I say
That he would yield the heel-drops of his heart
With joyful readiness this day, this hour,
To do his country service. Yet no less
Is it his drawback that he sees too far.
And there are times, Sire, when a shorter sight
Charms Fortune more. A certain sort of bravery
Some people have--to wit, this same Lord Nelson--
Which is but fatuous faith in one's own star
Swoln to the very verge of childishness,
(Smugly disguised as putting trust in God,
A habit with these English folk); whereby
A headstrong blindness to contingencies
Carries the actor on, and serves him well
In some nice issues clearer sight would mar.
Such eyeless bravery Villeneuve has not;
But, Sire, he is no coward.

NAPOLEON

Well, have it so!--What are we going to do?
My brain has only one wish--to succeed!

DECRES

My voice wanes weaker with you, Sire; is nought!
Yet these few words, as Minister of Marine,
I'll venture now.--My process would be thus:--
Our projects for a junction of the fleets
Being well-discerned and read by every eye
Through long postponement, England is prepared.
I would recast them. Later in the year
Form sundry squadrons of this massive one,
Harass the English till the winter time,
Then rendezvous at Cadiz; where leave half
To catch the enemy's eye and call their cruizers,
While rounding Scotland with the other half,
You make the Channel by the eastern strait,
Cover the passage of our army-boats,
And plant the blow.

NAPOLEON

And what if they perceive
Our Scottish route, and meet us eastwardly?

DECRES

I have thought of it, and planned a countermove;
I'll write the scheme more clearly and at length,
And send it hither to your Majesty.

NAPOLEON

Do so forthwith; and send me in Daru.

[Exit DECRES. Re-enter MONGE.]

Our breakfast, Monge, to-day has been cut short,
And these discussions on the ancient tongues
Wherein you shine, must yield to modern moils.
Nay, hasten not away; though feeble wills,
Incompetence, ay, imbecility,
In some who feign to serve the cause of France,
Do make me other than myself just now!--
Ah--here's Daru.

[DARU enters. MONGE takes his leave.]

Daru, sit down and write. Yes, here, at once,
This room will serve me now. What think you, eh?
Villeneuve has just turned tail and run to Cadiz.
So quite postponed--perhaps even overthrown--
My long-conned project against yonder shore
As 'twere a juvenile's snow-built device
But made for melting! Think of it, Daru,--
My God, my God, how can I talk thereon!
A plan well judged, well charted, well upreared,
To end in nothing! . . . Sit you down and write.

[NAPOLEON walks up and down, and resumes after a silence.]

Write this.--A volte-face 'tis indeed!--Write, write!

DARU (holding pen to paper)

I wait, your Majesty.

NAPOLEON

First Bernadotte--
Yes; "Bernadotte moves out from Hanover
Through Hesse upon Wurzburg and the Danube.--
Marmont from Holland bears along the Rhine,
And joins at Mainz and Wurzburg Bernadotte . . .

While these prepare their routes the army here
Will turn its back on Britain's tedious shore,
And, closing up with Augereau at Brest,
Set out full force due eastward. . . .
By the Black forest feign a straight attack,
The while our purpose is to skirt its left,
Meet in Franconia Bernadotte and Marmont;
Traverse the Danube somewhat down from Ulm;
Entrap the Austrian column by their rear;
Surround them, cleave them; roll upon Vienna,
Where, Austria settled, I engage the Tsar,
While Massena detains in Italy
The Archduke Charles.

Foreseeing such might shape,
Each high-and by-way to the Danube hence
I have of late had measured, mapped, and judged;
Such spots as suit for depots chosen and marked;
Each regiment's daily pace and bivouac
Writ tablewise for ready reference;
All which itineraries are sent herewith."

So shall I crush the two gigantic sets
Upon the Empire, now grown imminent.
--Let me reflect.--First Bernadotte---but nay,
The courier to Marmont must go first.
Well, well.--The order of our march from hence
I will advise. . . . My knock at George's door
With bland inquiries why his royal hand
Withheld due answer to my friendly lines,
And tossed the irksome business to his clerks,
Is thus perforce delayed. But not for long.
Instead of crossing, thitherward I tour
By roundabout contrivance not less sure!

DARU

I'll bring the writing to your Majesty.

[NAPOLEON and DARU go out severally.]

CHORUS OF THE YEARS (aerial music)

Recording Angel, trace
This bold campaign his thought has spun apace--
One that bids fair for immortality
Among the earthlings--if immortal deeds
May be ascribed to so extemporary
And transient a race!
It will be called, in rhetoric and rhyme,
As son to sire succeeds,
A model for the tactics of all time;
"The Great Campaign of that so famed year Five,"
By millions of mankind not yet alive.

SCENE II

THE FRONTIERS OF UPPER AUSTRIA AND BAVARIA

[A view of the country from mid-air, at a point south of the
River Inn, which is seen as a silver thread, winding northward
between its junction with the Salza and the Danube, and forming
the boundaries of the two countries. The Danube shows itself as
a crinkled satin riband, stretching from left to right in the
far background of the picture, the Inn discharging its waters
into the larger river.]

DUMB SHOW

A vast Austrian army creeps dully along the mid-distance, in
the detached masses and columns of a whitish cast. The columns
insensibly draw nearer to each other, and are seen to be converging
from the east upon the banks of the Inn aforesaid.

A RECORDING ANGEL (in recitative)

This movement as of molluscs on a leaf,
Which from our vantage here we scan afar,
Is one manoeuvred by the famous Mack
To countercheck Napoleon, still believed
To be intent on England from Boulogne,
And heedless of such rallies in his rear.
Mack's enterprise is now to cross Bavaria--
Beneath us stretched in ripening summer peace
As field unwonted for these ugly jars--

Outraged Bavaria, simmering in disquiet
At Munich down behind us, Isar-fringed,
And torn between his fair wife's hate of France
And his own itch to gird at Austrian bluff
For riding roughshod through his territory,
Wavers from this to that. The while Time hastes
The eastward streaming of Napoleon's host,
As soon we see.

The silent insect-creep of the Austrian columns towards the banks of
the Inn continues to be seen till the view fades to nebulousness and
dissolves.

SCENE III

BOULOGNE. THE ST. OMER ROAD

[It is morning at the end of August, and the road stretches out
of the town eastward.

The divisions of the "Army-for-England" are making preparations
to march. Some portions are in marching order. Bands strike
up, and the regiments start on their journey towards the Rhine
and Danube. Bonaparte and his officers watch the movements from
an eminence. The soldiers, as they pace along under their eagles
with beaming eyes, sing "Le Chant du Depart," and other martial
songs, shout "Vive l'Empereur!" and babble of repeating the days
of Italy, Egypt, Marengo, and Hohenlinden.]

NAPOLEON

Anon to England!

CHORUS OF INTELLIGENCES (aerial music)

If Time's weird threads so weave!

[The scene as it lingers exhibits the gradual diminishing of
the troops along the roads through the undulating August
landscape, till each column is seen but as a train of dust;
and the disappearance of each marching mass over the eastern
horizon.]

ACT FOURTH

SCENE I

KING GEORGE'S WATERING-PLACE, SOUTH WESSEX

[A sunny day in autumn. A room in the red-brick royal residence
know as Gloucester Lodge.(8)

At a front triple-lighted window stands a telescope on a tripod.
Through the open middle sash is visible the crescent-curved
expanse of the Bay as a sheet of brilliant translucent green,
on which ride vessels of war at anchor. On the left hand white
cliffs stretch away till they terminate in St. Aldhelm's Head,
and form a background to the level water-line on that side. In
the centre are the open sea and blue sky. A near headland rises
on the right, surmounted by a battery, over which appears the
remoter bald grey brow of the Isle of Slingers.

In the foreground yellow sands spread smoothly, whereon there
are sundry temporary erections for athletic sports; and closer
at hand runs an esplanade on which a fashionable crowd is
promenading. Immediately outside the Lodge are companies of
soldiers, groups of officers, and sentries.

Within the room the KING and PITT are discovered. The KING'S
eyes show traces of recent inflammation, and the Minister has
a wasted look.]

KING

Yes, yes; I grasp your reasons, Mr. Pitt,
And grant you audience gladly. More than that,
Your visit to this shore is apt and timely,
And if it do but yield you needful rest
From fierce debate, and other strains of office
Which you and I in common have to bear,
'Twill be well earned. The bathing is unmatched
Elsewhere in Europe,--see its mark on me!--
The air like liquid life.--But of this matter:
What argue these late movements seen abroad?
What of the country now the session's past;
What of the country, eh? and of the war?

PITT

The thoughts I have laid before your Majesty
Would make for this, in sum:--
That Mr. Fox, Lord Grenville, and their friends,
Be straightway asked to join. With Melville gone,
With Sidmouth, and with Buckinghamshire too,
The steerage of affairs has stood of late
Somewhat provisional, as you, sir, know,
With stop-gap functions thrust on offices
Which common weal can tolerate but awhile.
So, for the weighty reasons I have urged,
I do repeat my most respectful hope
To win your Majesty's ungrudged assent
To what I have proposed.

KING

But nothing, sure,
Has been more plain to all, dear Mr. Pitt,
Than that your own proved energy and scope
Is ample, without aid, to carry on
Our just crusade against the Corsican.
Why, then, go calling Fox and Grenville in?
Such helps we need not. Pray you think upon't,
And speak to me again.--We've had alarms
Making us skip like crackers at our heels,
That Bonaparte had landed close hereby.

PITT

Such rumours come as regularly as harvest.

KING

And now he has left Boulogne with all his host?
Was it his object to invade at all,
Or was his vast assemblage there a blind?

PITT

Undoubtedly he meant invasion, sir,
Had fortune favoured. He may try it yet.
And, as I said, could we but close with Fox---

KING

But, but;--I ask, what is his object now?
Lord Nelson's Captain--Hardy--whose old home
Stands in a peaceful vale hard by us here--
Who came two weeks ago to see his friends,
I talked to in this room a lengthy while.
He says our navy still is in thick night
As to the aims by sea of Bonaparte
Now the Boulogne attempt has fizzled out,
And what he schemes afloat with Spain combined.
The "Victory" lay that fortnight at Spithead,
And Nelson since has gone aboard and sailed;
Yes, sailed again. The "Royal Sovereign" follows,
And others her. Nelson was hailed and cheered
To huskiness while leaving Southsea shore,
Gentle and simple wildly thronging round.

PITT

Ay, sir. Young women hung upon his arm,
And old ones blessed, and stroked him with their hands.

KING

Ah--you have heard, of course. God speed him, Pitt.

PITT

Amen, amen!

KING

I read it as a thing
Of signal augury, and one which bodes
Heaven's confidence in me and in my line,
That I should rule as King in such an age! . . .
Well, well.--So this new march of Bonaparte's
Was unexpected, forced perchance on him?

PITT

It may be so, your Majesty; it may.
Last noon the Austrian ambassador,
Whom I consulted ere I posted down,
Assured me that his latest papers word
How General Mack and eighty thousand men
Have made good speed across Bavaria
To wait the French and give them check at Ulm,
That fortress-frontier-town, entrenched and walled,
A place long chosen as a vantage-point
Whereon to encounter them as they outwind
From the blind shades and baffling green defiles
Of the Black Forest, worn with wayfaring.
Here Mack will intercept his agile foe
Hasting to meet the Russians in Bohemia,
And cripple him, if not annihilate.

Thus now, sir, opens out this Great Alliance
Of Russia, Austria, England, whereto I
Have lent my earnest efforts through long months,
And the realm gives her money, ships, and men.--
It claps a muffler round the Cock's steel spurs,
And leaves me sanguine on his overthrow.
But, then,--this coalition of resources
Demands a strong and active Cabinet
To aid your Majesty's directive hand;
And thus I urge again the said additions--
These brilliant intellects of the other side
Who stand by Fox. With us conjoined, they---

KING

What, what, again--in face of my sound reasons!
Believe me, Pitt, you underrate yourself;
You do not need such aid. The splendid feat
Of banding Europe in a righteous cause
That you have achieved, so soon to put to shame
This wicked bombardier of dynasties
That rule by right Divine, goes straight to prove
We had best continue as we have begun,
And call no partners to our management.
To fear dilemmas horning up ahead
Is not your wont. Nay, nay, now, Mr. Pitt,
I must be firm. And if you love your King
You'll goad him not so rashly to embrace
This Fox-Grenville faction and its friends.
Rather than Fox, why, give me civil war!
Hey, what? But what besides?

PITT

I say besides, sir, . . . nothing!

[A silence.]

KING (cheerfully)

The Chancellor's here, and many friends of mine: Lady Winchelsea,
Lord and Lady Chesterfield, Lady Bulkeley, General Garth, and Mr.
Phipps the oculist--not the least important to me. He is a worthy
and a skilful man. My eyes, he says, are as marvellously improved
in durability as I know them to be in power. I have arranged to go
to-morrow with the Princesses, and the Dukes of Cumberland, Sussex,
and Cambridge (who are also here) for a ride on the Ridgeway, and
through the Camp on the downs. You'll accompany us there?

PITT

I am honoured by your Majesty's commands.

[PITT looks resignedly out of the window.]

What curious structure do I see outside, sir?

KING

It's but a stage, a type of all the world. The burgesses have
arranged it in my honour. At six o'clock this evening there are
to be combats at single-stick to amuse the folk; four guineas
the prize for the man who breaks most heads. Afterward there
is to be a grinning match through horse-collars--a very humorous
sport which I must stay here and witness; for I am interested in
whatever entertains my subjects.

PITT

Not one in all the land but knows it, sir.

KING

Now, Mr. Pitt, you must require repose;
Consult your own convenience then, I beg,
On when you leave.

PITT

I thank your Majesty.

[He departs as one whose purpose has failed, and the scene shuts.]

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