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The Dynasts: An Epic Drama Of The War With Napoleon, a play by Thomas Hardy |
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Part 3 - Act 6 - Scene 2. A Ballroom In Brussels |
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_ PART THIRD. ACT SIXTH. SCENE II. A BALLROOM IN BRUSSELS(22) [It is a June midnight at the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF RICHMOND'S. A band of stringed instruments shows in the background. The room is crowded with a brilliant assemblage of more than two hundred of the distinguished people sojourning in the city on account of the war and other reasons, and of local personages of State and fashion. The ball has opened with "The White Cockade." Among those discovered present either dancing or looking on are the DUKE and DUCHESS as host and hostess, their son and eldest daughter, the Duchess's brother, the DUKE OF WELLINGTON, the PRINCE OF ORANGE, the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK, BARON VAN CAPELLEN the Belgian Secretary of State, the DUKE OF ARENBERG, the MAYOR OF BRUSSELS, the DUKE AND DUCHESS OF BEAUFORT, GENERAL ALAVA, GENERAL OUDENARDE, LORD HILL, LORD AND LADY CONYNGHAM, SIR HENRY AND LADY SUSAN CLINTON, SIR H. AND LADY HAMILTON DALRYMPLE, SIR WILLIAM AND LADY DE LANCEY, LORD UXBRIDGE, SIR JOHN BYNG, LORD PORTARLINGTON, LORD EDWARD SOMERSET, LORD HAY, COLONEL ABERCROMBY, SIR HUSSEY VIVIAN, SIR A. GORDON, SIR W. PONSONBY, SIR DENIS PACK, SIR JAMES KEMPT, SIR THOMAS PICTON, GENERAL MAITLAND, COLONEL CAMERON, many other officers, English, Hanoverian, Dutch and Belgian ladies English and foreign, and Scotch reel-dancers from Highland regiments. The "Hungarian Waltz" having also been danced, the hostess calls up the Highland soldiers to show the foreign guests what a Scotch reel is like. The men put their hands on their hips and tread it out briskly. While they stand aside and rest "The Hanoverian Dance" is called. Enter LIEUTENANT WEBSTER, A.D.C. to the PRINCE OF ORANGE. The Prince goes apart with him and receives a dispatch. After reading it he speaks to WELLINGTON, and the two, accompanied by the DUKE OF RICHMOND, retire into an alcove with serious faces. WEBSTER, in passing back across the ballroom, exchanges a hasty word with two of three of the guests known to him, a young officer among them, and goes out.
The French have passed the Sambre at Charleroi!
What--does it mean the Bonaparte indeed
That is so.
O horrid time!
I shall, of course, sweet. Promptly too, no doubt. [Enter GENERAL MUFFLING. He looks prepossessed, and goes straight to WELLINGTON and RICHMOND in the alcove, who by this time have been joined by the DUKE OF BRUNSWICK.]
Yes, you see, it's true!
I am damn glad we are to be off. Pottering about her pinned to petticoat tails--it does one no good, but blasted harm!
The ball cannot go on, can it? Didn't the Duke know the French were so near? If he did, how could he let us run risks so coolly?
A deep concern weights those responsible [The DUCHESS OF RICHMOND goes to her husband.]
Ought I to stop the ball? It hardly seems right to let it continue if all be true.
I have put that very question to Wellington, my dear. He says that we need not hurry off the guests. The men have to assemble some time before the officers, who can stay on here a little longer without inconvenience; and he would prefer that they should, not to create a panic in the city, where the friends and spies of Napoleon are all agog for some such thing, which they would instantly communicate to him to take advantage of.
Is it safe to stay on? Should we not be thinking about getting the children away?
There's no hurry at all, even if Bonaparte were really sure to enter. But he's never going to set foot in Brussels--don't you imagine it for a moment.
I hope not. But I wish we had never brought them here!
It is too late, my dear, to wish that now. Don't be flurried; make the people go on dancing. [The DUCHESS returns to her guests. The DUKE rejoins WELLINGTON, BRUNSWICK, MUFFLING, and the PRINCE OF ORANGE in the alcove.]
We need not be astride till five o'clock
The Austrian armies, and the Russian too,
Yes, faith; and 'tis pity. But, by God,
We'll hope for luck.
Ay, now we are sure this move on Charleroi
In the next room there's one. (Exit RICHMOND.) [WELLINGTON calls up various general officers and aides from other parts of the room. PICTON, UXBRIDGE, HILL, CLINTON, VIVIAN, MAITLAND, PONSONBY, SOMERSET, and others join him in succession, receive orders, and go out severally.]
As my divisions seem to lie around
Yes, certainly. 'Tis now desirable. [Exit PRINCE OF ORANGE, and shortly after, MUFFLING. RICHMOND returns with a map, which he spreads out on the table. WELLINGTON scans it closely.] Napoleon has befooled me,
What do you mean to do?
I have bidden the army concentrate in strength
I leave almost this moment.--Yes, your Grace--
My good friend,
But I have sworn!
Just so. The order is unchanged. Adieu; [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.]
O Brunswick, Duke of Deathwounds! Even as he
I am stirred by inner words, [He stands in a reverie for a moment; then, bidding adieu to the DUCHESS OF RICHMOND and her daughter, goes slowly out of the ballroom by a side-door.]
The Duke of Brunswick bore him gravely here.
Romantic,--well,
The Generals slip away! I, Love, must take
Which tells me that the hour you draw your sword
Some are saying here [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, [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.]
Discerned you stepping out in front of them
He was my old fiend Death, in rarest trim,
Are those who marched behind him, then, to fall?
Ay, all well-nigh, ere Time have houred three-score.
Surely this cruel call to instant war
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 Nearly half an hour passes before the figure is danced down. Smothered kisses follow the conclusion. The silence is broken from without by more long hollow rolling notes, so near that they thrill the window-panes.]
'Tis the Assemble. Now, then, we must go! [The officers bid farewell to their partners and begin leaving in twos and threes. When they are gone the women mope and murmur to each other by the wall, and listen to the tramp of men and slamming of doors in the streets without.]
The Duke has borne him gaily here to-night.
Maybe that, finding himself blade to blade [They leave.]
I take you to our door, and say good-bye, [They leave.]
Now I must also go, [RICHMOND walks to the door with him. Exit WELLINGTON, RICHMOND returns.]
Some of these left renew the dance, you see.
Let be; let be; [The dancing, however, is fitful and spiritless, few but civilian partners being left for the ladies. Many of the latter prefer to sit in reverie while waiting for their carriages.]
When those stout men-at-arms drew forward there,
Which were so ushered?
Brunswick, who saw and knew;
Multiplied shimmerings of my Protean friend,
I have--too often! [The attenuated dance dies out, the remaining guests depart, the musicians leave the gallery and depart also. RICHMOND goes to a window and pulls back one of the curtains. Dawn is barely visible in the sky, and the lamps indistinctly reveal that long lines of British infantry have assembled in the street. In the irksomeness of waiting for their officers with marching-orders, they have lain down on the pavements, where many are soundly sleeping, their heads on their knapsacks and their arms by their side.]
Poor men. Sleep waylays them. How tired they seem!
They'll be more tired before the day is done. [He draws the window-curtain and goes out with the DUCHESS. Servants enter and extinguish candles. The scene closes in darkness.]
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