[SOULT hastily begins writing orders to that effect. The point of view shifts.]
SCENE VII
THE SAME. THE ENGLISH POSITION
[The din of battle continues. WELLINGTON, UXBRIDGE, HILL, DE LANCEY, GORDON, and others discovered near the middle of the line.]
SPIRIT OF RUMOUR
It is a moment when the steadiest pulse Thuds pit-a-pat. The crisis shapes and nears For Wellington as for his counter-chief.
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES
The hour is shaking him, unshakeable As he may seem!
SPIRIT OF THE YEARS
Know"st not at this stale time That shaken and unshaken are alike But demonstrations from the Back of Things?
Must I again reveal It as It hauls The halyards of the world?
[A transparency as in earlier scenes again pervades the spectacle, and the ubiquitous urging of the Immanent Will becomes visualized.
The web connecting all the apparently separate shapes includes WELLINGTON in its tissue with the rest, and shows him, like them, as acting while discovering his intention to act. By the lurid light the faces of every row, square, group, and column of men, French and English, wear the expression of that of people in a dream.]
SPIRIT OF THE PITIES [tremulously]
Yea, sire; I see.
Disquiet me, pray, no more!
[The strange light pa.s.ses, and the embattled hosts on the field seem to move independently as usual.]
WELLINGTON [to Uxbridge]
Manoeuvring does not seem to animate Napoleon"s methods now. Forward he comes, And pounds away on us in the ancient style, Till he is beaten back in the ancient style; And so the see-saw sways!
[The din increases. WELLINGTON"S aide-de-camp, Sir A. GORDON, a little in his rear, falls mortally wounded. The DUKE turns quickly.]
But where is Gordon?
Ah--hit is he! That"s bad, that"s bad, by G.o.d.
[GORDON is removed. An aide enters.]
AIDE
Your Grace, the Colonel Ompteda has fallen, And La Haye Sainte is now a bath of blood.
Nothing more can be done there, save with help.
The Rifles suffer sharply!
[An aide is seen coming from KEMPT.]
WELLINGTON
What says he?
DE LANCEY
He says that Kempt, being riddled through and thinned, Sends him for reinforcements.
WELLINGTON [with heat]
Reinforcements?
And where am I to get him reinforcements In Heaven"s name! I"ve no reinforcements here, As he should know.
AIDE [hesitating]
What"s to be done, your Grace?
WELLINGTON
Done? Those he has left him, be they many or few, Fight till they fall, like others in the field!
[Exit aide. The Quartermaster-General DE LANCEY, riding by WELLINGTON, is struck by a lobbing shot that hurls him over the head of his horse. WELLINGTON and others go to him.]
DE LANCEY [faintly]
I may as well be left to die in peace!
WELLINGTON
He may recover. Take him to the rear, And call the best attention up to him.
[DE LANCEY is carried off. The next moment a sh.e.l.l bursts close to WELLINGTON.]