The Dynasts. Томас Харди

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       One charmed, a needed purpose to fulfil!

      NELSON

       Ah, Coll. Lead bullets are not all that wound....

       I have a feeling here of dying fires,

       A sense of strong and deep unworded censure,

       Which, compassing about my private life,

       Makes all my public service lustreless

       In my own eyes.—I fear I am much condemned

       For those dear Naples and Palermo days,

       And her who was the sunshine of them all!...

       He who is with himself dissatisfied,

       Though all the world find satisfaction in him,

       Is like a rainbow-coloured bird gone blind,

       That gives delight it shares not. Happiness?

       It's the philosopher's stone no alchemy

       Shall light on this world I am weary of.—

       Smiling I'd pass to my long home to-morrow

       Could I with honour, and my country's gain.

       —But let's adjourn. I waste your hours ashore

       By such ill-timed confessions!

       [They pass out of sight, and the scene closes.]

      SCENE II.

       OFF FERROL

       [The French and Spanish combined squadrons. On board the French

       admiral's flag-ship. VILLENEUVE is discovered in his cabin, writing

       a letter.]

      SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

       He pens in fits, with pallid restlessness,

       Like one who sees Misfortune walk the wave,

       And can nor face nor flee it.

      SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

       He indites

       To his long friend the minister Decres

       Words that go heavily!...

      VILLENEUVE [writing]

       “I am made the arbiter in vast designs

       Whereof I see black outcomes. Do I this

       Or do I that, success, that loves to jilt

       Her anxious wooer for some careless blade,

       Will not reward me. For, if I must pen it,

       Demoralized past prayer in the marine—

       Bad masts, bad sails, bad officers, bad men;

       We cling to naval technics long outworn,

       And time and opportunity do not avail me

       To take up new. I have long suspected such,

       But till I saw my helps, the Spanish ships,

       I hoped somewhat.—Brest is my nominal port;

       Yet if so, Calder will again attack—

       Now reinforced by Nelson or Cornwallis—

       And shatter my whole fleet.... Shall I admit

       That my true inclination and desire

       Is to make Cadiz straightway, and not Brest?

       Alas! thereby I fail the Emperor;

       But shame the navy less.—

       “Your friend, VILLENEUVE”

       [GENERAL LAURISTON enters.]

      LAURISTON

       Admiral, my missive to the Emperor,

       Which I shall speed by special courier

       From Ferrol this near eve, runs thus and thus:—

       “Gravina's ships, in Ferrol here at hand,

       Embayed but by a temporary wind,

       Are all we now await. Combined with these

       We sail herefrom to Brest; there promptly give

       Cornwallis battle, and release Ganteaume;

       Thence, all united, bearing Channelwards:

       A step that sets in motion the first wheel

       In the proud project of your Majesty

       Now to be engined to the very close,

       To wit: that a French fleet shall enter in

       And hold the Channel four-and-twenty hours.”—

       Such clear assurance to the Emperor

       That our intent is modelled on his will

       I hasten to dispatch to him forthwith.4

      VILLENEUVE

       Yes, Lauriston. I sign to every word.

       [Lauriston goes out. VILLENEUVE remains at his table in reverie.]

      SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

       We may impress him under visible shapes

       That seem to shed a silent circling doom;

       He's such an one as can be so impressed,

       And this much is among our privileges,

       Well bounded as they be.—Let us draw near him.

       [The Spirits of Years and of the Pities take the form of sea-birds,

       which alight on the stern-balcony of VILLENEUVE's ship, immediately

       outside his cabin window. VILLENEUVE after a while looks up and

       sees the birds watching him with large piercing eyes.]

      VILLENEUVE

       My apprehensions even outstep their cause,

       As though some influence smote through yonder pane.

       [He gazes listlessly, and resumes his broodings.]

       —-Why dared I not disclose to him my thought,

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