The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 80

They step out of it, and another of them holds a lantern to the chaplain's book. The winter day slowly dawns.]

CHAPLAIN

"Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay."

[A gun is fired from the French battery not far off; then another.

The ships in the harbour take in their riding lights.]

COLBORNE [in a low voice]

I knew that dawn would see them open fire.

HOPE

We must perforce make swift use of out time.

Would we had closed our too sad office sooner!

[As the body is lowered another discharge echoes. They glance gloomily at the heights where the French are ranged, and then into the grave.]

CHAPLAIN

"We therefore commit his body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust." [Another gun.]

[A spent ball falls not far off. They put out their lanterns.

Continued firing, some shot splashing into the harbour below them.]

HOPE

In mercy to the living, who are thrust Upon our care for their deliverance, And run much hazard till they are embarked, We must abridge these duties to the dead, Who will not mind be they abridged or no.

HARDINGE

And could he mind, would be the man to bid it....

HOPE

We shall do well, then, curtly to conclude These mutilated prayers--our hurried best!-- And what's left unsaid, feel.

CHAPLAIN [his words broken by the cannonade]

".... We give Thee hearty thanks for that it hath pleased Thee to deliver this our brother out of the miseries of this sinful world.... Who also hath taught us not to be sorry, as men without hope, for them that sleep in Him.... Grant this, through Jesus Christ our Mediator and Redeemer."

OFFICERS AND SOLDIERS

Amen!

[The diggers of the Ninth hastily fill in the grave, and the scene shuts as the mournful figures retire.]

SCENE V

VIENNA. A CAFE IN THE STEPHANS-PLATZ

[An evening between light and dark is disclosed, some lamps being lit. The huge body and tower of St. Stephen's rise into the sky some way off, the western gleam still touching the upper stonework.

Groups of people are seated at the tables, drinking and reading the newspapers. One very animated group, which includes an Englishman, is talking loudly. A citizen near looks up from his newspaper.]

CITIZEN [to the Englishman]

I read, sir, here, the troubles you discuss Of your so gallant army under Moore.

His was a spirit baffled but not quelled, And in his death there shone a stoicism That lent retreat the rays of victory.

ENGLISHMAN

It was so. While men chide they will admire him, And frowning, praise. I could nigh prophesy That the unwonted crosses he has borne In his career of sharp vicissitude Will tinct his story with a tender charm, And grant the memory of his strenuous feats As long a lease within the minds of men As conquerors hold there.--Does the sheet give news Of how the troops reached home?

CITIZEN [looking up again at the paper]

Yes; from your press It quotes that they arrived at Plymouth Sound Mid dreadful weather and much suffering.

It states they looked the very ghosts of men, So heavily had hunger told on them, And the fatigues and toils of the retreat.

Several were landed dead, and many died As they were borne along. At Portsmouth, too, Sir David Baird, still helpless from his wound, Was carried in a cot, sheet-pale and thin, And Sir John Hope, lank as a skeleton.-- Thereto is added, with authority, That a new expedition soon will fit, And start again for Spain.

ENGLISHMAN

I have heard as much.

CITIZEN

You'll do it next time, sir. And so shall we!

SECOND CITIZEN [regarding the church tower opposite]

You witnessed the High Service over there They held this morning? [To the Englishman.]