NAPOLEON mounts his horse and descends in the rear of his host to the banks of the Niemen. His face puts on a saturnine humour, and he hums an air.]
Malbrough s"en va-t-en guerre, Mironton, mironton, mirontaine; Malbrough s"en va-t-en guerre, Ne sait quand reviendra!
[Exeunt NAPOLEON and his staff.]
SPIRIT SINISTER
It is kind of his Imperial Majesty to give me a lead. [Sings.]
Monsieur d"Malbrough est mort, Mironton, mironton, mirontaine; Monsieur d"Malbrough est mort, Est mort et enterre!
[Anon the figure of NAPOLEON, diminished to the aspect of a doll, reappears in front of his suite on the plain below. He rides across the swaying bridge. Since the morning the sky has grown overcast, and its blackness seems now to envelope the retreating array on the other side of the stream. The storm bursts with thunder and lightning, the river turns leaden, and the scene is blotted out by the torrents of rain.]
SCENE II
THE FORD OF SANTA MARTA, SALAMANCA
[We are in Spain, on a July night of the same summer, the air being hot and heavy. In the darkness the ripple of the river Tormes can be heard over the ford, which is near the foreground of the scene.
Against the gloomy north sky to the left, lightnings flash revealing rugged heights in that quarter. From the heights comes to the ear the tramp of soldiery, broke and irregular, as by obstacles in their descent; as yet they are some distance off.
On heights to the right hand, on the other side of the river, glimmer the bivouac fires of the French under MARMONT. The lightning quickens, with rolls of thunder, and a few large drops of rain fall.
A sentinel stands close to the ford, and beyond him is the ford- house, a shed open towards the roadway and the spectator. It is lit by a single lantern, and occupied by some half-dozen English dragoons with a sergeant and corporal, who form part of a mounted patrol, their horses being picketed at the entrance. They are seated on a bench, and appear to be waiting with some deep intent, speaking in murmurs only.
The thunderstorm increases till it drowns the noise of the ford and of the descending battalions, making them seem further off than before. The sentinel is about to retreat to the shed when he discerns two female figures in the gloom. Enter MRS. DALBIAC and MRS. PRESCOTT, English officers wives.]
SENTINEL
Where there"s war there"s women, and where there"s women there"s trouble! [Aloud] Who goes there?
MRS. DALBIAC
We must reveal who we are, I fear [to her companion]. Friends!
[to sentinel].
SENTINEL
Advance and give the countersign.
MRS. DALBIAC
Oh, but we can"t!
SENTINEL
Consequent which, you must retreat. By Lord Wellington"s strict regulations, women of loose character are to be excluded from the lines for moral reasons, namely, that they are often employed by the enemy as spies.
MRS. PRESCOTT
Dear good soldier, we are English ladies benighted, having mistaken our way back to Salamanca, and we want shelter from the storm.
MRS. DALBIAC
If it is necessary I will say who we are.--I am Mrs. Dalbiac, wife of the Lieutenant-Colonel of the Fourth Light Dragoons, and this lady is the wife of Captain Prescott of the Seventh Fusileers. We went out to Christoval to look for our husbands, but found the army had moved.
SENTINEL [incredulously]
"Wives!" Oh, not to-day! I have heard such t.i.tles of courtesy afore; but they never shake me. "W" begins other female words than "wives!"--You"ll have trouble, good dames, to get into Salamanca to-night. You"ll be challenged all the way down, and shot without clergy if you can"t give the countersign.
MRS. PRESCOTT
Then surely you"ll tell us what it is, good kind man!
SENTINEL
Well--have ye earned enough to pay for knowing? Government wage is poor pickings for watching here in the rain. How much can ye stand?
MRS. DALBIAC
Half-a-dozen pesetas.
SENTINEL
Very well, my dear. I was always tender-hearted. Come along.
[They advance and hand the money.] The pa.s.s to-night is "Melchester Steeple." That will take you into the town when the weather clears.
You won"t have to cross the ford. You can get temporary shelter in the shed there.
[As the ladies move towards the shed the tramp of the infantry draws near the ford, which the downfall has made to purl more boisterously. The twain enter the shed, and the dragoons look up inquiringly.]
MRS. DALBIAC [to dragoons]
The French are luckier than you are, men. You"ll have a wet advance across this ford, but they have a dry retreat by the bridge at Alba.