THE SAME. THE RUSSIAN POSITION [It is about noon, and the vital spectacle is now near the village of Tilnitz. The fog has dispersed, and the sun shines clearly, though without warmth, the ice on the pools gleaming under its radiance. GENERAL BUXHÖVDEN and his aides-de-camp have reined up, and remain at pause on a hillock. The General watches through a glass his battalions, which are still disputing the village. Suddenly approach down the track from the upland of Pratzen large companies of Russian infantry helter-skelter. COUNT LANGERON is beheld to be retreating with them; and soon, pale and agitated, he hastens up to GENERAL BUXHÖVDEN, whose face is flushed.]

LANGERON While they are upon us you stay idle here! Prschebiszewsky’s column is distraught and rent, And more than half my own made captive! Yea, Kreznowitz carried, and Sokolnitz hemmed: The enemy’s whole strength will stound you soon!

BUXHÖVDEN You seem to see the enemy everywhere.

LANGERON You cannot see them, be they here or no!

BUXHÖVDEN I only wait Prschebiszewsky’s nearing corps To join Dokhtórof’s to them. Here they come. [SOULT, supported by BERNADOTTE and OUDINOT, having cleared and secured the Pratzen height, his battalions are perceived descending from it on this side, behind DOKHTÓROF’S division, so placing the latter between themselves and the pools.]

LANGERON You cannot tell the Frenchmen from ourselves! These are the victors.—Ah—Dokhtórof—lost! [DOKHTÓROF’S troops are seen to be retreating towards the water. The watchers stand in painful tenseness.]

BUXHÖVDEN Dokhtórof tell to save him as he may! We, Count, must gather up our shaken flesh And hurry them by the road through Austerlitz. [BUXHÖVDEN’S regiments and the remains of LANGERON’S are rallied and collected, and they retreat by way of the hamlet of Aujezd. As they go over the summit of a hill BUXHÖVDEN looks back. LANGERON’S columns, which were behind his own, have been cut off by VANDAMME’S division coming down from the Pratzen plateau. This and some detachments from DOKHTÓROF’S column rush towards the Satschan lake and endeavour to cross it on the ice. It cracks beneath their weight. At the same moment NAPOLÉON and his brilliant staff appear on the top of the Pratzen. The Emperor watches the scene with a vulpine smile; and directs a battery near at hand to fire down upon the ice on which the Russians are crossing. A ghastly crash and splashing follows the discharge, the shining surface breaking into pieces like a mirror, which fly in all directions. Two thousand fugitives are engulfed, and their groans of despair reach the ears of the watchers like ironical huzzas. A general flight of the Russian army from wing to wing is now disclosed, involving in its current the EMPEROR ALEXANDER and the EMPEROR FRANCIS, with the reserve, who are seen towards Austerlitz endeavouring to rally their troops in vain. They are swept along by the disordered soldiery.]