The Dynasts: An Epic-Drama of the War with Napoleon Part 187

HILL [approaching]

I strongly feel you stand too much exposed!

WELLINGTON

I know, I know. It matters not one d.a.m.n!

I may as well be shot as not perceive What ills are raging here.

HILL

Conceding such, And as you may be ended momently, A truth there is no blinking, what commands Have you to leave me, should fate shape it so?

WELLINGTON

These simply: to hold out unto the last, As long as one man stands on one lame leg With one ball in his pouch!--then end as I.

[He rides on slowly with the others. NEY'S charges, though fruitless so far, are still fierce. His troops are now reduced to one-half. Regiments of the BACHELU division, and the JAMIN brigade, are at last moved up to his a.s.sistance. They are partly swept down by the Allied batteries, and partly notched away by the infantry, the smoke being now so thick that the position of the battalions is revealed only by the flas.h.i.+ng of the priming- pans and muzzles, and by the furious oaths heard behind the cloud.

WELLINGTON comes back. Enter another aide-de-camp.]

AIDE

We bow to the necessity of saying That our brigade is lessened to one-third, Your Grace. And those who are left alive of it Are so unmuscled by fatigue and thirst That some relief, however temporary, Becomes sore need.

WELLINGTON

Inform your general That his proposal asks the impossible!

That he, I, every Englishman afield, Must fall upon the spot we occupy, Our wounds in front.

AIDE

It is enough, your Grace.

I answer for't that he, those under him, And I withal, will bear us as you say.

[Exit aide. The din of battle goes on. WELLINGTON is grave but calm. Like those around him, he is splashed to the top of his hat with partly dried mire, mingled with red spots; his face is grimed in the same way, little courses showing themselves where the sweat has trickled down from his brow and temples.]

CLINTON [to Hill]

A rest would do our chieftain no less good, In faith, than that unfortunate brigade!

He is tried d.a.m.nably; and much more strained Than I have ever seen him.

HILL

Endless risks He's running likewise. What the h.e.l.l would happen If he were shot, is more than I can say!

WELLINGTON [calling to some near]

At Talavera, Salamanca, boys, And at Vitoria, we saw smoke together; And though the day seems wearing doubtfully, Beaten we must not be! What would they say Of us at home, if so?

A CRY [from the French]

Their centre breaks!

Vive l'Empereur!

[It comes from the FOY and BACHELU divisions, which are rus.h.i.+ng forward. HALKETT'S and DUPLAT'S brigades intercept. DUPLAT falls, shot dead; but the venturesome French regiments, pierced with converging fires, and cleft with sh.e.l.ls, have to retreat.]

HILL [joining Wellington]

The French artillery-fire To the right still renders regiments restive there That have to stand. The long exposure galls them.

WELLINGTON

They must be stayed as our poor means afford.

I have to bend attention steadfastly Upon the centre here. The game just now Goes all against us; and if staunchness fail But for one moment with these thinning foot, Defeat succeeds!

[The battle continues to sway hither and thither with concussions, wounds, smoke, the fumes of gunpowder, and the steam from the hot viscera of grape-torn horses and men. One side of a Hanoverian square is blown away; the three remaining sides form themselves into a triangle. So many of his aides are cut down that it is difficult for WELLINGTON to get reports of what is happening afar. It begins to be discovered at the front that a regiment of hussars, and others without ammunition, have deserted, and that some officers in the rear, honestly concluding the battle to be lost, are riding quietly off to Brussels. Those who are left unwounded of WELLINGTON'S staff show gloomy misgivings at such signs, despite their own firmness.]

SPIRIT SINISTER

One needs must be a ghost To move here in the midst 'twixt host and host!

Their b.a.l.l.s scream brisk and breezy tunes through me As I were an organ-stop. It's merry so; What damage mortal flesh must undergo!

[A Prussian officer enters to m.u.f.fLING, who has again rejoined the DUKE'S suite. m.u.f.fLING hastens forward to WELLINGTON.]

m.u.f.fLING

Blucher has just begun to operate; But owing to Gneisenau's stolid stagnancy The body of our army looms not yet!

As Zieten's corps still plod behind Smohain Their coming must be late. Blucher's attack Strikes the remote right rear of the enemy, Somewhere by Plancenoit.

WELLINGTON

A timely blow; But would that Zieten sped! Well, better late Than never. We'll still stand.

[The point of observation s.h.i.+fts.]