by Thomas Hardy
   [Exit BUSSY. The Secretary reads letters aloud in succession.
   He comes to the last; begins it; reaches a phrase, and stops
   abruptly.]
   Mind not! Read on. No doubt the usual threat,
   Or prophecy, from some mad scribe? Who signs it?
   SECRETARY
   The subscript is "The Duke of Enghien!"
   NAPOLEON [starting up]
   Bah, man! A treacherous trick! A hoax—no more!
   Is that the last?
   SECRETARY
   The last, your Majesty.
   NAPOLEON
   Then now I'll sleep. In two hours have me called.
   SECRETARY
   I'll give the order, sire.
   [The Secretary goes. The candles are removed, except one, and
   NAPOLEON endeavours to compose himself.]
   SPIRIT IRONIC
   A little moral panorama would do him no harm, after that reminder of
   the Duke of Enghien. Shall it be, young Compassion?
   SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
   What good—if that old Years tells us be true?
   But I say naught. To ordain is not for me!
   [Thereupon a vision passes before NAPOLEON as he lies, comprising
   hundreds of thousands of skeletons and corpses in various stages
   of decay. They rise from his various battlefields, the flesh
   dropping from them, and gaze reproachfully at him. His intimate
   officers who have been slain he recognizes among the crowd. In
   front is the DUKE OF ENGHIEN as showman.]
   NAPOLEON [in his sleep]
   Why, why should this reproach be dealt me now?
   Why hold me my own master, if I be
   Ruled by the pitiless Planet of Destiny?
   [He jumps up in a sweat and puts out the last candle; and the
   scene is curtained by darkness.]
   SCENE IV
   A CHAMBER OVERLOOKING A MAIN STREET IN BRUSSELS
   [A June sunrise; the beams struggling through the window-curtains.
   A canopied bed in a recess on the left. The quick notes of
   "Brighton Camp, or the "Girl I've left behind me," strike sharply
   into the room from fifes and drums without. A young lady in a
   dressing-gown, who has evidently been awaiting the sound, springs
   from the bed like a hare from its form, undraws window-curtains
   and opens the window.
   Columns of British soldiery are marching past from the Parc
   southward out of the city by the Namur Gate. The windows of
   other houses in the street rattle open, and become full of
   gazers.
   A tap at the door. An older lady enters, and comes up to the
   first.]
   YOUNGER LADY [turning]
   O mamma—I didn't hear you!
   ELDER LADY
   I was sound asleep till the thumping of the drums set me fantastically
   dreaming, and when I awoke I found they were real. Did they wake you
   too, my dear?
   Younger Lady [reluctantly]
   I didn't require waking. I hadn't slept since we came home.
   ELDER LADY
   That was from the excitement of the ball. There are dark rings round
   your eye. [The fifes and drums are now opposite, and thrill the air
   in the room.] Ah—that "Girl I've left behind me!"—which so many
   thousands of women have throbbed an accompaniment to, and will again
   to-day if ever they did!
   YOUNGER LADY [her voice faltering]
   It is rather cruel to say that just now, mamma. There, I can't look
   at them after it! [She turns and wipes her eyes.]
   ELDER LADY
   I wasn't thinking of ourselves—certainly not of you.—How they
   press on—with those great knapsacks and firelocks and, I am told,
   fifty-six rounds of ball-cartridge, and four days' provisions in
   those haversacks. How can they carry it all near twenty miles and
   fight with it on their shoulders!... Don't cry, dear. I thought
   you would get sentimental last night over somebody. I ought to
   have brought you home sooner. How many dances did you have? It
   was impossible for me to look after you in the excitement of the
   war-tidings.
   YOUNGER LADY
   Only three—four.
   ELDER LADY
   Which were they?
   YOUNGER LADY
   "Enrico," the "Copenhagen Waltz" and the "Hanoverian," and the
   "Prime of Life."
   ELDER LADY
   It was very foolish to fall in love on the strength of four dances.
   YOUNGER LADY [evasively]
   Fall in love? Who said I had fallen in love? What a funny idea!
   ELDER LADY
   Is it?... Now here come the Highland Brigade with their pipes
   and their "Hieland Laddie." How the sweethearts cling to the men's
   arms. [Reaching forward.] There are more regiments following.
   But look, that gentleman opposite knows us. I cannot remember his
   name. [She bows and calls across.] Sir, which are these?
   GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE
   The Ninety-second. Next come the Forty-ninth, and next the Forty-
   second—Sir Denis Pack's brigade.
   ELDER LADY
   Thank you.—I think it is that gentleman we talked to at the
   Duchess's, but I am not sure. [A pause: another band.]
   GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE
   That's the Twenty-eighth. [They pass, with their band and colours.]
   Now the Thirty-second are coming up—part of Kempt's brigade. Endless,
   are they not?
   ELDER LADY
   Yes, Sir. Has the Duke passed out yet?
   GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE
   Not yet. Some cavalry will go by first, I think. The foot coming
   up now are the Seventy-ninth. [They pass.]... These next are
   the Ninety-fifth. [They pass.]... These are the First Foot-
   guards now. [They pass, playing "British Grenadiers."]... The
   Fusileer-guards now. [They pass.] Now the Coldstreamers. [They
   pass. He looks up towards the Parc.] Several Hanoverian regiments
   under Colonel Best are coming next. [They pass, with their bands
   and colours. An interval.]
   ELDER LADY [to daughter]
   Here are the hussars. How much more they carry to battle than at
   reviews. The hay in those great nets must encumber them. [She
   turns and sees that her daughter has become pale.] Ah, now I know!
   HE has just gone by. You exchanged signals with him, you wicked
   girl! How do you know what his character is, or if he'll ever come
   back?
   [The younger lady goes and flings herself on her face upon the
   bed, sobbing silently. Her mother glances at her, but leaves
   her alone. An interval. The prancing of a group of horsemen
   is heard on the cobble-stones without.]
   GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE [calling]
   Here comes the Duke!
   ELDER LADY [to younger]
   You have left the window at the most important time! The Duke of
   Wellington and his staff-officers are passing out.
   YOUNGER LADY
   I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anything any more!
   [Riding down the street comes WELLINGTON in a grey frock-coat and
   small cocked hat, frigid and undemonstrative; accompanied by four
   or five Generals of his suite, the Deputy Quartermaster-general
   De LANCEY, LORD FITZROY SOMERSET, Aide-de-camp, and GENERAL
   MUFFLING.]
   GENTLEMAN OPPOSITE
   He is the Prussian officer attached to our headquarters, through whom
   Wellington 
communicates with Blucher, who, they say, is threatened by
   the French at Ligny at this moment.
   [The elder lady turns to her daughter, and going to the bed bends
   over her, while the horses' tramp of WELLINGTON and his staff
   clatters more faintly in the street, and the music of the last
   retreating band dies away towards the Forest of Soignes.
   Finding her daughter is hysterical with grief she quickly draws
   the window-curtains to screen the room from the houses opposite.
   Scene ends.]
   SCENE V
   THE FIELD OF LIGNY
   [The same day later. A prospect of the battlefield of Ligny
   southward from the roof of the windmill of Bussy, which stands at
   the centre and highest point of the Prussian position, about six
   miles south-east of Quatre-Bras.
   The ground slopes downward along the whole front of the scene to
   a valley through which wanders the Ligne, a muddy stream bordered
   by sallows. On both sides of the stream, in the middle plane of
   the picture, stands the village of Ligny, composed of thatched
   cottages, gardens, and farm-houses with stone walls; the main
   features, such as the church, church-yard, and village-green
   being on the further side of the Ligne.
   On that side the land reascends in green wheatfields to an
   elevation somewhat greater than that of the foreground, reaching
   away to Fleurus in the right-hand distance.
   In front, on the slopes between the spectator and the village,
   is the First Corps of the Prussian army commanded by Zieten, its
   First Brigade under STEINMETZ occupying the most salient point.
   The Corps under THIELMANN is ranged to the left, and that of
   PIRCH to the rear, in reserve to ZIETEN. In the centre-front,
   just under the mill, BLUCHER on a fine grey charger is intently
   watching, with his staff.
   Something dark is seen to be advancing over the horizon by
   Fleurus, about three miles off. It is the van of NAPOLEON'S
   army, approaching to give battle.
   At this moment hoofs are heard clattering along a road that
   passes behind the mill; and there come round to the front the
   DUKE OF WELLINGTON, his staff-officers, and a small escort of
   cavalry.
   WELLINGTON and BLUCHER greet each other at the foot of the
   windmill. They disappear inside, and can be heard ascending
   the ladders.
   Enter on the roof WELLINGTON and BLUCHER, followed by FITZROY
   SOMERSET, GNEISENAU, MUFFLING, and others. Before renewing
   their conversation they peer through their glasses at the dark
   movements on the horizon. WELLINGTON'S manner is deliberate,
   judicial, almost indifferent; BLUCHER'S eager and impetuous.
   WELLINGTON
   They muster not as yet in near such strength
   At Quatre-Bras as here.
   BLUCHER
   'Tis from Fleurus
   They come debouching. I, perforce, withdrew
   My forward posts of cavalry at dawn
   In face of their light cannon.... They'll be here
   I reckon, soon!
   WELLINGTON [still with glass]
   I clearly see his staff,
   And if my eyes don't lie, the Arch-one too....
   It is the whole Imperial army, Prince,
   That we've before us. [A silence.] Well, we'll cope with them!
   What would you have me do?
   [BLUCHER is so absorbed in what he sees that he does not heed.]
   GNEISENAU
   Duke, this I'd say:
   Events suggest to us that you come up
   With all your force, behind the village here,
   And act as our reserve.
   MUFFLING
   But Bonaparte,
   Pray note, has redistributed his strength
   In fashion that you fail to recognize.
   I am against your scheme.
   BLUCHER [lowering his glass]
   Signs notify
   Napoleon's plans as changed! He purports now
   To strike our left—between Sombreffe and Brye....
   If so, I have to readjust my ward.
   WELLINGTON
   One of his two divisions that we scan
   Outspreading from Fleurus, seems bent on Ligny,
   The other on Saint-Amand.
   BLUCHER
   Well, I shall see
   In half an hour, your Grace. If what I deem
   Be what he means, Von Zieten's corps forthwith
   Must stand to their positions: Pirch out here,
   Henckel at Ligny, Steinmetz at La Haye.
   WELLINGTON
   So that, your Excellency, as I opine,
   I go and sling my strength on their left wing—
   Manoeuvring to outflank 'em on that side.
   BLUCHER
   True, true. Our plan uncovers of itself;
   You bear down everything from Quatre-Bras
   Along the road to Frasnes.
   WELLINGTON
   I will, by God.
   I'll bear straight on to Gosselies, if needs!
   GNEISENAU
   Your Excellencies, if I may be a judge,
   Such movement will not tend to unity;
   It leans too largely on a peradventure
   Most speculative in its contingencies!
   [A silence; till the officers of the staff remark to each other
   that concentration is best in any circumstances. A general
   discussion ensues.]
   BLUCHER [concludingly]
   We will expect you, Duke, to our support.
   WELLINGTON
   I must agree that, in the sum, it's best.
   So be it then. If not attacked myself
   I'll come to you.—Now I return with speed
   To Quatre-Bras.
   BLUCHER
   And I descend from here
   To give close eye and thought to things below;
   No more can well be studied where we stand.
   [Exeunt from roof WELLINGTON, BLUCHER and the rest. They reappear
   below, and WELLINGTON and his suite gallop furiously away in the
   direction of Quatre-Bras. An interval.]
   DUMB SHOW [below]
   Three reports of a cannon give the signal for the French attack.
   NAPOLEON'S army advances down the slopes of green corn opposite,
   bands and voices joining in songs of victory. The French come
   in three grand columns; VANDAMME'S on the left [the spectator's
   right] against Saint-Amand, the most forward angle of the Prussian
   position. GERARD'S in the centre bear down upon Ligny. GROUCHY'S
   on the French right is further back. Far to the rear can be
   discerned NAPOLEON, the Imperial Guard, and MILHAUD'S cuirassiers
   halted in reserve.
   This formidable advance is preceded by swarms of tirailleurs, who
   tread down the high wheat, exposing their own men in the rear.
   Amid cannonading from both sides they draw nearer to the Prussians,
   though lanes are cut through them by the latter's guns. They drive
   the Prussians out of Ligny; who, however, rally in the houses,
   churchyard, and village green.
   SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
   I see unnatural an Monster, loosely jointed,
   With an Apocalyptic Being's shape,
   And limbs and eyes a hundred thousand strong,
   And fifty thousand heads; which coils itself
   About the buildings there.
   SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
   Thou dost indeed.
   It is the Monster Devastation. Watch.
   Round the church they fight without quart
er, shooting face to face,
   stabbing with unfixed bayonets, and braining with the butts of
   muskets. The village catches fire, and soon becomes a furnace.
   The crash of splitting timbers as doors are broken through, the
   curses of the fighters, rise into the air, with shouts of "En
   avant!" from the further side of the stream, and "Vorwarts!" from
   the nearer.
   The battle extends to the west by Le Hameau and Saint-Amand la Haye;
   and Ligny becomes invisible under a shroud of smoke.
   VOICES [at the base of the mill]
   This sun will go down bloodily for us!
   The English, sharply sighed for by Prince Blucher,
   Cannot appear. Wellington words across
   That hosts have set on him at Quatre-Bras,
   And leave him not one bayonet to spare!
   The truth of this intelligence is apparent. A low dull sound heard
   lately from the direction of Quatre-Bras has increased to a roaring
   cannonade. The scene abruptly closes.
   SCENE VI
   THE FIELD AT QUATRE-BRAS
   [The same day. The view is southward, and the straight gaunt
   highway from Brussels [behind the spectator] to Charleroi over
   the hills in front, bisects the picture from foreground to
   distance. Near at hand, where it is elevated and open, there
   crosses it obliquely, at a point called Les Quatre-Bras, another
   road which comes from Nivelle, five miles to the gazer's right
   rear, and goes to Namur, twenty miles ahead to the left. At a
   distance of five or six miles in this latter direction it passes
   near the previous scene, Ligny, whence the booming of guns can
   be continuously heard.
   Between the cross-roads in the centre of the scene and the far
   horizon the ground dips into a hollow, on the other side of which
   the same straight road to Charleroi is seen climbing the crest,
   and over it till out of sight. From a hill on the right hand of
   the mid-distance a large wood, the wood of Bossu, reaches up
   nearly to the crossways, which give their name to the buildings
   thereat, consisting of a few farm-houses and an inn.
   About three-quarters of a mile off, nearly hidden by the horizon
   towards Charleroi, there is also a farmstead, Gemioncourt; another,
   Piraumont, stands on an eminence a mile to the left of it, and
   somewhat in front of the Namur road.]
   DUMB SHOW
   As this scene uncovers the battle is beheld to be raging at its
   height, and to have reached a keenly tragic phase. WELLINGTON has
   returned from Ligny, and the main British and Hanoverian position,