The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
KING
A victory? I? Pray where?
HALFORD
Indeed so, sir: Hard by Albuera--far in harried Spain-- Yes, sir; you have achieved a victory Of dash unmatched and feats unparalleled!
KING
He says I have won a battle? But I thought I was a poor afflicted captive here, In darkness lingering out my lonely days, Beset with terror of these myrmidons That suck my blood like vampires! Ay, ay, ay!-- No aims left to me but to quicken death To quicklier please my son!--And yet he says That I have won a battle! O G.o.d, curse, d.a.m.n!
When will the speech of the world accord with truth, And men's tongues roll sincerely!
GENTLEMAN [aside]
Faith, 'twould seem As if the madman were the sanest here!
[The KING'S face has flushed, and he becomes violent. The attendants rush forward to him.]
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Something within me aches to pray To some Great Heart, to take away This evil day, this evil day!
CHORUS IRONIC
Ha-ha! That's good. Thou'lt pray to It:-- But where do Its compa.s.sions sit?
Yea, where abides the heart of it?
Is it where sky-fires flame and flit, Or solar craters spew and spit, Or ultra-stellar night-webs knit?
What is Its shape? Man's counterfeit?
That turns in some far sphere unlit The Wheel which drives the Infinite?
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Mock on, mock on! Yet I'll go pray To some Great Heart, who haply may Charm mortal miseries away!
[The KING'S paroxysm continues. The attendants hold him.]
HALFORD
This is distressing. One can never tell How he will take things now. I thought Albuera A subject that would surely solace him.
These paroxysms--have they been bad this week? [To Attendants.]
FIRST ATTENDANT
Sir Henry, no. He has quite often named The late Princess, as gently as a child A little bird found starved.
WILLIS [aside to apothecary]
I must increase the opium to-night, and lower him by a double set of leeches since he won't stand the lancet quietly.
APOTHECARY
You should take twenty ounces, doctor, if a drop--indeed, go on blooding till he's unconscious. He is too robust by half. And the watering-pot would do good again--not less than six feet above his head. See how heated he is.
WILLIS
Curse that town band. It will have to be stopped.
HEBERDEN
The same thing is going on all over England, no doubt, on account of this victory.
HALFORD
When he is in a more domineering mood he likes such allusions to his rank as king.... If he could resume his walks on the terrace he might improve slightly. But it is too soon yet. We must consider what we shall report to the Council. There is little hope of his being much better. What do you think, Willis?
WILLIS
None. He is done for this time!
HALFORD
Well, we must soften it down a little, so as not to upset the Queen too much, poor woman, and distract the Council unnecessarily. Eldon will go pumping up bucketfuls, and the Archbishops are so easily shocked that a certain conventional reserve is almost forced upon us.
WILLIS [returning from the King]
He is already better. The paroxysm has nearly pa.s.sed. Your opinion will be far more favourable before you leave.
[The KING soon grows calm, and the expression of his face changes to one of dejection. The attendants leave his side: he bends his head, and covers his face with his hand, while his lips move as if in prayer. He then turns to them.]
KING [meekly]
