The Dynasts. Томас Харди

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СКАЧАТЬ a shining costume, and diamonds that collect

       rainbow-colours from the sunlight piercing the clerestory windows.

       She is preceded by PRINCESS ELIZA, and surrounded by her ladies.

       A pause follows, and then comes the procession of the EMPEROR,

       consisting of hussars, heralds, pages, aides-de-camp, presidents

       of institutions, officers of the state bearing the insignia of the

       Empire and of Italy, and seven ladies with offerings. The Emperor

       himself in royal robes, wearing the Imperial crown, and carrying the

       sceptre. He is followed my ministers and officials of the household.

       His gait is rather defiant than dignified, and a bluish pallor

       overspreads his face.

       He is met by the Cardinal Archbishop of CAPRARA and the clergy, who

       burn incense before him as he proceeds towards the throne. Rolling

       notes of music burn forth, and loud applause from the congregation.

      SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

       What is the creed that these rich rites disclose?

      SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

       A local cult, called Christianity,

       Which the wild dramas of the wheeling spheres

       Include, with divers other such, in dim

       Pathetical and brief parentheses,

       Beyond whose span, uninfluenced, unconcerned,

       The systems of the suns go sweeping on

       With all their many-mortaled planet train

       In mathematic roll unceasingly.

      SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

       I did not recognize it here, forsooth;

       Though in its early, lovingkindly days

       Of gracious purpose it was much to me.

      ARCHBISHOP [addressing Bonaparte]

       Sire, with that clemency and right goodwill

       Which beautify Imperial Majesty,

       You deigned acceptance of the homages

       That we the clergy and the Milanese

       Were proud to offer when your entrance here

       Streamed radiance on our ancient capital.

       Please, then, to consummate the boon to-day

       Beneath this holy roof, so soon to thrill

       With solemn strains and lifting harmonies

       Befitting such a coronation hour;

       And bend a tender fatherly regard

       On this assembly, now at one with me

       To supplicate the Author of All Good

       That He endow your most Imperial person

       With every Heavenly gift.

      [The procession advances, and the EMPEROR seats himself on the

       throne, with the banners and regalia of the Empire on his right,

       and those of Italy on his left hand. Shouts and triumphal music

       accompany the proceedings, after which Divine service commences.]

      SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

       Thus are the self-styled servants of the Highest

       Constrained by earthly duress to embrace

       Mighty imperiousness as it were choice,

       And hand the Italian sceptre unto one

       Who, with a saturnine, sour-humoured grin,

       Professed at first to flout antiquity,

       Scorn limp conventions, smile at mouldy thrones,

       And level dynasts down to journeymen!—

       Yet he, advancing swiftly on that track

       Whereby his active soul, fair Freedom's child

       Makes strange decline, now labours to achieve

       The thing it overthrew.

      SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

       Thou reasonest ever thuswise—even if

       A self-formed force had urged his loud career.

      SPIRIT SINISTER

       Do not the prelate's accents falter thin,

       His lips with inheld laughter grow deformed,

       While blessing one whose aim is but to win

       The golden seats that other b—-s have warmed?

      SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

       Soft, jester; scorn not puppetry so skilled,

       Even made to feel by one men call the Dame.

      SHADE OF THE EARTH

       Yea; that they feel, and puppetry remain,

       Is an owned flaw in her consistency

       Men love to dub Dame Nature—that lay-shape

       They use to hang phenomena upon—

       Whose deftest mothering in fairest sphere

       Is girt about by terms inexorable!

      SPIRIT SINISTER

       The lady's remark is apposite, and reminds me that I may as well

       hold my tongue as desired. For if my casual scorn, Father Years,

       should set thee trying to prove that there is any right or reason

       in the Universe, thou wilt not accomplish it by Doomsday! Small

       blame to her, however; she must cut her coat according to her

       cloth, as they would say below there.

      SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

       O would that I could move It to enchain thee,

       And shut thee СКАЧАТЬ