The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon - LightNovelsOnl.com
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WELLINGTON
My good friend, Something too solemn knells beneath your words.
Take cheerful views of the affair in hand, And fall to't with _sang froid_!
BRUNSWICK
But I have sworn!
Adieu. The rendezvous is Quatre-Bras?
WELLINGTON
Just so. The order is unchanged. Adieu; But only till a later hour to-day; I see it is one o'clock.
[WELLINGTON and RICHMOND go out of the alcove and join the hostess, BRUNSWICK'S black figure being left there alone. He bends over the map for a few seconds.]
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
O Brunswick, Duke of Deathwounds! Even as he For whom thou wear'st that filial weedery Was waylaid by my tipstaff nine years since, So thou this day shalt feel his fendless tap, And join thy sire!
BRUNSWICK [starting up]
I am stirred by inner words, As 'twere my father's angel calling me,-- That prelude to our death my lineage know!
[He stands in a reverie for a moment; then, bidding adieu to the d.u.c.h.eSS OF RICHMOND and her daughter, goes slowly out of the ballroom by a side-door.]
d.u.c.h.eSS
The Duke of Brunswick bore him gravely here.
His sable shape has stuck me all the eve As one of those romantic presences We hear of--seldom see.
WELLINGTON [phlegmatically]
Romantic,--well, It may be so. Times often, ever since The Late Duke's death, his mood has tinged him thus.
He is of those brave men who danger see, And seeing front it,--not of those, less brave But counted more, who face it sightlessly.
YOUNG OFFICER [to partner]
The Generals slip away! I, Love, must take The cobbled highway soon. Some hours ago The French seized Charleroi; so they loom nigh.
PARTNER [uneasily]
Which tells me that the hour you draw your sword Looms nigh us likewise!
YOUNG OFFICER
Some are saying here We fight this very day. Rumours all-shaped Fly round like c.o.c.kchafers!
[Suddenly there echoes in the ballroom a long-drawn metallic purl of sound, making all the company start.]
Transcriber's Note: There follows in musical notation five measures for side-drum.
Ah--there it is, Just as I thought! They are beating the Generale.
[The loud roll of side-drums is taken up by other drums further and further away, till the hollow noise spreads all over the city.
Dismay is written on the faces of the women. The Highland non- commissioned officers and privates march smartly down the ballroom and disappear.]
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Discerned you stepping out in front of them That figure--of a pale drum-major kind, Or fugleman--who wore a cold grimace?
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
He was my old fiend Death, in rarest trim, The occasion favouring his husbandry!
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
Are those who marched behind him, then, to fall?
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
Ay, all well-nigh, ere Time have houred three-score.
PARTNER
Surely this cruel call to instant war Spares s.p.a.ce for one dance more, that memory May store when you are gone, while I--sad me!-- Wait, wait and weep.... Yes--one there is to be!
SPIRIT IRONIC
Methinks flirtation grows too tender here!
[Country Dance, "The Prime of Life," a favourite figure at this period. The sense of looming tragedy carries emotion to its climax. All the younger officers stand up with their partners, forming several figures of fifteen or twenty couples each. The air is ecstasizing, and both s.e.xes abandon themselves to the movement.
