Read Complete Works of Thomas Hardy (Illustrated) Online
Authors: Thomas Hardy
ALEXANDER
[in a low voice, looking anxiously at her]
Say not so.
You speak as all were lost. Things are not thus!
Such desperation has unreason in it,
And bleeds the hearts that crave to comfort you.
NAPOLEON
[to the King]
I trust the treaty, further pondered, sire,
Has consolations?
KING
[curtly]
I am a luckless man;
And muster strength to bear my lucklessness
Without vain hope of consolations now.
One thing, at least, I trust I have shown you, sire
That
I
provoked not this calamity!
At Anspach first my feud with you began—
Anspach, my Eden, violated and shamed
By blushless tramplings of your legions there!
NAPOLEON
It's rather late, methinks, to talk thus now.
KING
[with more choler]
Never too late for truth and plainspeaking!
NAPOLEON
[blandly]
To your ally, the Tsar, I must refer you.
He was it, and not I, who tempted you
To push for war, when Eylau must have shown
Your every profit to have lain in peace.—
He can indemn; yes, much or small; and may.
KING
[with a head-shake]
I would make up, would well make up, my mind
To half my kingdom's loss, could in such limb
But Magdeburg not lie. Dear Magdeburg,
Place of my heart-hold; THAT I would retain!
NAPOLEON
Our words take not such pattern as is wont
To grace occasions of festivity.
[He turns brusquely from the King. The banquet proceeds with a
more general conversation. When finished a toast is proposed:
"The Freedom of the Seas," and drunk with enthusiasm.]
SPIRIT SINISTER
Another hit at England and her tubs!
I hear harsh echoes from her chalky chines.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
O heed not England now! Still read the Queen.
One grieves to see her spend her pretty spells
Upon the man who has so injured her.
[They rise from table, and the folding-doors being opened they pass
into the adjoining room.
Here are now assembled MURAT, TALLEYRAND, KOURAKIN, KALKREUTH,
BERTHIER, BESSIERES, CAULAINCOURT, LABANOFF, BENNIGSEN, and others.
NAPOLEON having spoken a few words here and there resumes his
conversation with QUEEN LOUISA, and parenthetically offers snuff
to the COUNTESS VOSS, her lady-in-waiting. TALLEYRAND, who has
observed NAPOLEON'S growing interest in the QUEEN, contrives to
get near him.]
TALLEYRAND
[in a whisper]
Sire, is it possible that you can bend
To let one woman's fairness filch from you
All the resplendent fortune that attends
The grandest victory of your grand career?
[The QUEEN'S quick eye observes and flashes at the whisper, and
she obtains a word with the minister.]
QUEEN
[sarcastically]
I should infer, dear Monsieur Talleyrand,
Only two persons in the world regret
My having come to Tilsit.
TALLEYRAND
Madame, two?
Can any!—who may such sad rascals be?
QUEEN
You, and myself, Prince.
[Gravely.]
Yes! myself and you.
[TALLEYRAND'S face becomes impassive, and he does not reply.
Soon the QUEEN prepares to leave, and NAPOLEON rejoins her.]
NAPOLEON
[taking a rose from a vase]
Dear Queen, do pray accept this little token
As souvenir of me before you go?
[He offers her the rose, with his hand on his heart. She
hesitates, but accepts it.]
QUEEN
[impulsively, with waiting tears]
Let Magdeburg come with it, sire! O yes!
NAPOLEON
[with sudden frigidity]
It is for you to take what I can give.
And I give this—no more.
[She turns her head to hide her emotion, and withdraws. NAPOLEON
steps up to her, and offers his arm. She takes it silently, and
he perceives the tears on her cheeks. They cross towards the ante-
room, away from the other guests.]
NAPOLEON
[softly]
Still weeping, dearest lady! Why is this?
QUEEN
[seizing his hand and pressing it]
Your speeches darn the tearings of your sword!—
Between us two, as man and woman now,
Is't even possible you question why!
O why did not the Greatest of the Age—
Of future ages—of the ages past,
This one time win a woman's worship—yea,
For all her little life!
NAPOLEON
[gravely]
Know you, my Fair
That I—ay, I—in this deserve your pity.—
Some force within me, baffling mine intent,
Harries me onward, whether I will or no.
My star, my star is what's to blame—not I.
It is unswervable!
QUEEN
Then now, alas!
My duty's done as mother, wife, and queen.—
I'll say no more—but that my heart is broken!
[Exeunt NAPOLEON, QUEEN, and LADY-IN-WAITING.]
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
He spoke thus at the Bridge of Lodi. Strange,
He's of the few in Europe who discern
The working of the Will.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
If that be so,
Better for Europe lacked he such discerning!
[NAPOLEON returns to the room and joins TALLEYRAND.]
NAPOLEON
[aside to his minister]
My God, it was touch-and-go that time, Talleyrand! She was within
an ace of getting over me. As she stepped into the carriage she
said in her pretty way, "O I have been cruelly deceived by you!"
And when she sank down inside, not knowing I heard, she burst into
sobs fit to move a statue. The Devil take me if I hadn't a good
mind to stop the horses, jump in, give her a good kissing, and
agree to all she wanted. Ha-ha, well; a miss is as good as a mile.
Had she come sooner with those sweet, beseeching blue eyes of hers,
who knows what might not have happened! But she didn't come sooner,
and I have kept in my right mind.
[The RUSSIAN EMPEROR, the KING OF PRUSSIA, and other guests advance
to bid adieu. They depart severally. When they are gone NAPOLEON
turns to TALLEYRAND.]
Adhere, then, to the treaty as it stands:
Change not therein a single article,
But write it fair forthwith.
[Exeunt NAPOLEON, TALLEYRAND, and other ministers and officers in
waiting.[
SHADE OF THE EARTH
Some surly voice afar I heard now
Of an enisled Britannic quality;
Wots any of the cause?
SPIRIT IRONIC
Perchance I do!
Britain is roused, in her slow, stolid style,
By Bonaparte's pronouncement at Berlin
Against her cargoes, commerce, life itself;
And now from out her water citadel
Blows counterblasting "Orders." Rumours tell.
RUMOUR I
"From havens of fierce France and her allies,
With poor or precious freight of merchandize
Whoso adventures, England pounds as prize!"
RUMOUR II
Thereat Napoleon names her, furiously,
Curst Oligarch, Arch-pirate of the sea,
Who shall lack room to live while liveth he!
CHORUS OF THE PITIES [aerial music]
And peoples are enmeshed in new calamity!
[Curtain of Evening Shades.]
ACT SECOND
SCENE I
THE PYRENEES AND VALLEYS ADJOINING
[The view is from upper air, immediately over the region that
lies between Bayonne on the north, Pampeluna on the south, and
San Sebastian on the west, including a portion of the Cantabrian
mountains. The month is February, and snow covers not only the
peaks but the lower slopes. The roads over the passes are well
beaten.]
DUMB SHOW
At various elevations multitudes of NAPOLEON'S soldiery, to the
number of about thirty thousand, are discerned in a creeping
progress across the frontier from the French to the Spanish side.
The thin long columns serpentine along the roads, but are sometimes
broken, while at others they disappear altogether behind vertical
rocks and overhanging woods. The heavy guns and the whitey-brown
tilts of the baggage-waggons seem the largest objects in the
procession, which are dragged laboriously up the incline to the
watershed, their lumbering being audible as high as the clouds.
Simultaneously the river Bidassoa, in a valley to the west, is
being crossed by a train of artillery and another thirty thousand
men, all forming part of the same systematic advance.
Along the great highway through Biscay the wondering native
carters draw their sheep-skinned ox-teams aside, to let the
regiments pass, and stray groups of peaceable field-workers
in Navarre look inquiringly at the marching and prancing
progress.
Time passes, and the various northern strongholds are approached
by these legions. Their governors emerge at a summons, and when
seeming explanations have been given the unwelcome comers are
doubtfully admitted.
The chief places to which entrance is thus obtained are Pampeluna
and San Sebastian at the front of the scene, and far away towards
the shining horizon of the Mediterranean, Figueras, and Barcelona.
Dumb Show concludes as the mountain mists close over.
SCENE II
ARANJUEZ, NEAR MADRID. A ROOM IN THE PALACE OF GODOY, THE "PRINCE
OF PEACE"
[A private chamber is disclosed, richly furnished with paintings,
vases, mirrors, silk hangings, gilded lounges, and several lutes
of rare workmanship. The hour is midnight, the room being lit
by screened candelabra. In the centre at the back of the scene
is a large window heavily curtained.
GODOY and the QUEEN MARIA LUISA are dallying on a sofa. THE
PRINCE OF PEACE is a fine handsome man in middle life, with
curled hair and a mien of easy good-nature. The QUEEN is older,
but looks younger in the dim light, from the lavish use of
beautifying arts. She has pronounced features, dark eyes, low
brows, black hair bound by a jewelled bandeau, and brought forward
in curls over her forehead and temples, long heavy ear-rings, an
open bodice, and sleeves puffed at the shoulders. A cloak and
other mufflers lie on a chair beside her.]
GODOY
The life-guards still insist, Love, that the King
Shall not leave Aranjuez.
QUEEN
Let them insist.
Whether we stay, or whether we depart,
Napoleon soon draws hither with his host!
GODOY
He says he comes pacifically.... But no!
QUEEN
Dearest, we must away to Andalusia,
Thence to America when time shall serve.
GODOY
I hold seven thousand men to cover us,
And ships in Cadiz port. But then—the Prince
Flatly declines to go. He lauds the French
As true deliverers.
QUEEN
Go Fernando MUST!...
O my sweet friend, that we—our sole two selves—
Could but escape and leave the rest to fate,
And in a western bower dream out our days!—
For the King's glass can run but briefly now,
Shattered and shaken as his vigour is.—
But ah—your love burns not in singleness!
Why, dear, caress Josefa Tudo still?
She does not solve her soul in yours as I.
And why those others even more than her?...
How little own I in thee!
GODOY
Such must be.
I cannot quite forsake them. Don't forget
The same scope has been yours in former years.
QUEEN
Yes, Love; I know. I yield! You cannot leave them;
But if you ever would bethink yourself
How long I have been yours, how truly all
Those other pleasures were my desperate shifts
To soften sorrow at your absences,
You would be faithful to me!
GODOY
True, my dear.—
Yet I do passably keep troth with you,
And fond you with fair regularity;—
A week beside you, and a week away.
Such is not schemed without some risk and strain.—
And you agreed Josefa should be mine,
And, too, Thereza without jealousy!
[A noise is heard without.]
Ah, what means that?