Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated)

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Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) Page 811

by Thomas Hardy


  cause to states afar,

  II

  Traverse the waters borne by one of such; and thereto Bonaparte's

  responses are:

  I

  "The principles of honour and of truth which ever actuate the

  sender's mind

  II

  "Herein are written largely! Take our thanks: we read that

  this conjuncture undesigned

  I

  "Unfolds felicitous means of showing you that still our eyes

  are set, as yours, on peace,

  II

  "To which great end the Treaty of Amiens must be the ground-

  work of our amities."

  I

  From London then: "The path to amity the King of England

  studies to pursue;

  II

  "With Russia hand in hand he is yours to close the long

  convulsions thrilling Europe through."

  I

  Still fare the shadowy missioners across, by Dover-road and

  Calais Channel-track,

  II

  From Thames-side towers to Paris palace-gates; from Paris

  leisurely to London back.

  I

  Till thus speaks France: "Much grief it gives us that, being

  pledged to treat, one Emperor with one King,

  II

  "You yet have struck a jarring counternote and tone that keys

  not with such promising.

  I

  "In these last word, then, of this pregnant parle; I trust I

  may persuade your Excellency

  II

  "That in no circumstance, on no pretence, a party to our pact can

  Russia be."

  SPIRIT SINISTER

  Fortunately for the manufacture of corpses by machinery Napoleon

  sticks to this veto, and so wards off the awkward catastrophe of

  a general peace descending upon Europe. Now England.

  RUMOURS [continuing]

  I

  Thereon speeds down through Kent and Picardy, evenly as some

  southing sky-bird's shade:

  II

  "We gather not from your Imperial lines a reason why our words

  should be reweighed.

  I

  "We hold Russia not as our ally that is to be: she stands fully-

  plighted so;

  II

  "Thus trembles peace upon this balance-point: will you that

  Russia be let in or no?"

  I

  Then France rolls out rough words across the strait: "To treat

  with you confederate with the Tsar,

  II

  "Presumes us sunk in sloughs of shamefulness from which we yet

  stand gloriously afar!

  I

  "The English army must be Flanders-fed, and entering Picardy with

  pompous prance,

  II

  "To warrant such! Enough. Our comfort is, the crime of further

  strife lies not with France."

  SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

  Alas! what prayer will save the struggling lands,

  Whose lives are ninepins to these bowling hands?

  CHORUS OF RUMOURS

  France secretly with—Russia plights her troth!

  Britain, that lonely isle, is slurred by both.

  SPIRIT SINISTER

  It is as neat as an uncovered check at chess! You may now mark

  Fox's blank countenance at finding himself thus rewarded for the

  good turn done to Bonaparte, and at the extraordinary conduct of

  his chilly friend the Muscovite.

  SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

  His hand so trembles it can scarce retain

  The quill wherewith he lets Lord Yarmouth know

  Reserve is no more needed!

  SPIRIT IRONIC

  Now enters another character of this remarkable little piece—Lord

  Lauderdale—and again the messengers fly!

  SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

  But what strange figure, pale and noiseless, comes,

  By us perceived, unrecognized by those,

  Into the very closet and retreat

  Of England's Minister?

  SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

  The Tipstaff he

  Of the Will, the Many-masked, my good friend Death.—

  The statesman's feeble form you may perceive

  Now hustled into the Invisible,

  And the unfinished game of Dynasties

  Left to proceed without him!

  SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

  Here, then, ends

  My hope for Europe's reason-wrought repose!

  He was the friend of peace—did his great best

  To shed her balms upon humanity;

  And now he's gone! No substitute remains.

  SPIRIT IRONIC

  Ay; the remainder of the episode is frankly farcical. Negotiations

  are again affected; but finally you discern Lauderdale applying for

  passports; and the English Parliament declares to the nation that

  peace with France cannot be made.

  RUMOURS [concluding]

  I

  The smouldering dudgeon of the Prussian king, meanwhile, upon the

  horizon's rim afar

  II

  Bursts into running flame, that all his signs of friendliness were

  met by moves for war.

  I

  Attend and hear, for hear ye faintly may, his manifesto made at

  Erfurt town,

  II

  That to arms only dares he now confide the safety and the honour

  of his crown!

  SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

  Draw down the curtain, then, and overscreen

  This too-protracted verbal fencing-scene;

  And let us turn to clanging foot and horse,

  Ordnance, and all the enginry of Force!

  [Clouds close over the perspective.]

  SCENE III

  THE STREETS OF BERLIN

  [It is afternoon, and the thoroughfares are crowded with citizens

  in an excited and anxious mood. A central path is left open for

  some expected arrival.

  There enters on horseback a fair woman, whose rich brown curls

  stream flutteringly in the breeze, and whose long blue habit

  flaps against the flank of her curvetting white mare. She is

  the renowned LOUISA, QUEEN OF PRUSSIA, riding at the head of a

  regiment of hussars and wearing their uniform. As she prances

  along the thronging citizens acclaim her enthusiastically.]

  SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

  Who is this fragile fair, in fighting trim?

  SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

  She is the pride of Prussia, whose resolve

  Gives ballast to the purpose of her spouse,

  And holds him to what men call governing.

  SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

  Queens have engaged in war; but war's loud trade

  Rings with a roar unnatural, fitful, forced,

  Practised by woman's hands!

  SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

  Of her view

  The enterprise is that of scores of men,

  The strength but half-a-ones.

  SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

  Would fate had ruled

  The valour had been his, hers but the charm!

  SPIRIT OF RUMOUR

  But he has nothing on't, and she has all.

  The shameless satires of the bulletins

  dispatched to Paris, thence the wide world through,

  Disturb the dreams of her by those who love her,

  And thus her brave adventurers for the realm

  Have blurred her picture, soiled her gentleness,

  And wrought her credit harm.

  FIRST CITIZEN [vociferously]

  Yes, by God: send and ultimatum to Paris, by God; that's what we'll

 
; do, by God. The Confederation of the Rhine was the evil thought of

  an evil man bent on ruining us!

  SECOND CITIZEN

  This country double-faced and double-tongued,

  This France, or rather say, indeed, this Man—

  [Peoples are honest dealers in the mass]—

  This man, to sign a stealthy scroll with Russia

  That shuts us off from all indemnities,

  While swearing faithful friendship with our King,

  And, still professing our safe wardenry,

  To fatten other kingdoms at our cost,

  Insults us grossly, and makes Europe clang

  With echoes of our wrongs. The little states

  Of this antique and homely German land

  Are severed from their blood-allies and kin—

  Hereto of one tradition, interest, hope—

  In calling lord this rank adventurer,

  Who'll thrust them as a sword against ourselves.—

  Surely Great Frederick sweats within his tomb!

  THIRD CITIZEN

  Well, we awake, though we have slumbered long,

  And She is sent by Heaven to kindle us.

  [The QUEEN approaches to pass back again with her suite. The

  vociferous applause is repeated. They regard her as she nears.]

  To cry her Amazon, a blusterer,

  A brazen comrade of the bold dragoons

  Whose uniform she dons! Her, whose each act

  Shows but a mettled modest woman's zeal,

  Without a hazard of her dignity

  Or moment's sacrifice of seemliness,

  To fend off ill from home!

  FOURTH CITIZEN [entering]

  The tidings fly that Russian Alexander

  Declines with emphasis to ratify

  The pact of his ambassador with France,

  And that the offer made the English King

  To compensate the latter at our cost

  Has not been taken.

  THIRD CITIZEN

  And it never will be!

  Thus evil does not always flourish, faith.

  Throw down the gage while god is fair to us;

  He may be foul anon!

  [A pause.]

  FIFTH CITIZEN [entering]

  Our ambassador Lucchesini is already leaving Paris. He could stand

  the Emperor no longer, so the Emperor takes his place, has decided

  to order his snuff by the ounce and his candles by the pound, lest

  he should not be there long enough to use more.

  [The QUEEN goes by, and they gaze at here and at the escort of

  soldiers.]

  Haven't we soldiers? Haven't we the Duke of Brunswick to command

  'em? Haven't we provisions, hey? Haven't we fortresses and an

  Elbe, to bar the bounce of an invader?

  [The cavalcade passes out of sight and the crowd draws off.]

  FIRST CITIZEN

  By God, I must to beer and 'bacco, to soften my rage!

  [Exeunt citizens.]

  SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

  So doth the Will objectify Itself

  In likeness of a sturdy people's wrath,

  Which takes no count of the new trends of time,

  Trusting ebbed glory in a present need.—

  What if their strength should equal not their fire,

  And their devotion dull their vigilance?—

  Uncertainly, by fits, the Will doth work

  In Brunswick's blood, their chief, as in themselves;

  It ramifies in streams that intermit

  And make their movement vague, old-fashioned, slow

  To foil the modern methods counterposed!

  [Evening descends on the city, and it grows dusk. The soldiers

  being dismissed from duty, some young officers in a frolic of

  defiance halt, draw their swords and whet them on the steps of

  the FRENCH AMBASSADOR'S residence as they pass. The noise of

  whetting is audible through the street.]

  CHORUS OF THE PITIES [aerial music]

  The soul of a nation distrest

  Is aflame,

  And heaving with eager unrest

  In its aim

  To assert its old prowess, and stouten its chronicled fame!

  SEMICHORUS I

  It boils in a boisterous thrill

  Through the mart,

  Unconscious well-nigh as the Will

  Of its part:

  Would it wholly might be so, and feel not the forthcoming smart!

  SEMICHORUS II

  In conclaves no voice of reflection

  Is heard,

  King, Councillors, grudge circumspection

  A word,

  And victory is visioned, and seemings as facts are averred.

  CHORUS

  Yea, the soul of a nation distrest

  Is aflame,

  And heaving with eager unrest

  In its aim

  At supreme desperations to blazon the national name!

  [Midnight strikes, lights are extinguished one by one, and the

  scene disappears.]

  SCENE IV

  THE FIELD OF JENA

  [Day has just dawned through a grey October haze. The French,

  with their backs to the nebulous light, loom out and show

  themselves to be already under arms; LANNES holding the centre,

  NEY the right, SOULT the extreme right, and AUGEREAU the left.

  The Imperial Guard and MURAT'S cavalry are drawn up on the

  Landgrafenberg, behind the centre of the French position. In

  a valley stretching along to the rear of this height flows

  northward towards the Elbe the little river Saale, on which

  the town of Jena stands.

  On the irregular plateaux in front of the French lines, and almost

  close to the latter, are the Prussians un TAUENZIEN; and away on

  their right rear towards Weimar the bulk of the army under PRINCE

  HOHENLOHE. The DUKE OF BRUNSWICK [father of the Princess of

  Wales] is twelve miles off with his force at Auerstadt, in the

  valley of the Ilm.

  Enter NAPOLEON, and men bearing torches who escort him. He moves

  along the front of his troops, and is lost to view behind the

  mist and surrounding objects. But his voice is audible.]

  NAPOLEON

  Keep you good guard against their cavalry,

  In past repute the formidablest known,

  And such it may be now; so asks our heed.

  Receive it, then, in square, unflinchingly.—

  Remember, men, last year you captured Ulm,

  So make no doubt that you will vanquish these!

  SOLDIERS

  Long live the Emperor! Advance, advance!

  DUMB SHOW

  Almost immediately glimpses reveal that LANNES' corps is moving

  forward, and amid an unbroken clatter of firelocks spreads out

  further and wider upon the stretch of country in front of the

  Landgrafenberg. The Prussians, surprised at discerning in the

  fog such masses of the enemy close at hand, recede towards the

  Ilm.

  From PRINCE HOHENLOHE, who is with the body of the Prussians on

  the Weimar road to the south, comes perspiring the bulk of the

  infantry to rally the retreating regiments of TAUENZIEN, and he

  hastens up himself with the cavalry and artillery. The action

  is renewed between him and NEY as the clocks of Jena strike ten.

  But AUGEREAU is seen coming to Ney's assistance on one flank of

  the Prussians, SOULT bearing down on the other, while NAPOLEON

  on the Landgrafenberg orders the Imperial Guard to advance. The

  doomed Prussians are driven back, this time more decisively,

  falling in great numbers and losing many as
prisoners as they

  reel down the sloping land towards the banks of the Ilm behind

  them. GENERAL RUCHEL, in a last despairing effort to rally,

  faces the French onset in person and alone. He receives a bullet

  through the chest and falls dead.

  The crisis of the struggle is reached, though the battle is not

  over. NAPOLEON, discerning from the Landgrafenberg that the

  decisive moment has come, directs MURAT to sweep forward with all

  his cavalry. It engages the shattered Prussians, surrounds them,

  and cuts them down by thousands.

  From behind the horizon, a dozen miles off, between the din of guns

  in the visible battle, there can be heard an ominous roar, as of a

  second invisible battle in progress there. Generals and other

  officers look at each other and hazard conjectures between whiles,

  the French with exultation, the Prussians gloomily.

  HOHENLOHE

  That means the Duke of Brunswick, I conceive,

  Impacting on the enemy's further force

  Led by, they say, Davout and Bernadotte.

  God grant his star less lurid rays then ours,

  Or this too pregnant, hoarsely-groaning day

  Shall, ere its loud delivery be done,

  Have twinned disasters to the fatherland

  That fifty years will fail to sepulchre!

  Enter a straggler on horseback.

  STRAGGLER

  Prince, I have circuited by Auerstadt,

  And bring ye dazzling tidings of the fight,

  Which, if report by those who saw't be true,

  Has raged thereat from clammy day-dawn on,

  And left us victors!

  HOHENLOHE

  Thitherward go I,

  And patch the mischief wrought upon us here!

  Enter a second and then a third straggler.

  Well, wet-faced men, whence come ye? What d'ye bring?

  STRAGGLER II

  Your Highness, I rode straight from Hassenhausen,

  Across the stream of battle as it boiled

  Betwixt that village and the banks of Saale,

  And such the turmoil that no man could speak

  On what the issue was!

  HOHENLOHE [To Straggler III]

  Can you add aught?

  STRAGGLER III

  Nothing that's clear, your Highness.

  HOHENLOHE

  Man, your mien

  Is that of one who knows, but will not say.

  Detain him here.

  STRAGGLER III

  The blackness of my news,

  Your Highness, darks my sense!... I saw this much:

  His charging grenadiers, received in the face

  A grape-shot stroke that gouged out half of it,

  Proclaiming then and there his life fordone.

  HOHENLOHE

  Fallen? Brunswick! Reed in council, rock in fire...

  Ah, this he looked for. Many a time of late

 

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