PARIS. A STREET LEADING TO THE TUILERIES [It is night, and the dim oil lamps reveal a vast concourse of citizens of both sexes around the Palace gates and in the neighbouring thoroughfares.]

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS [to the Spirit of Rumour] Thou may’st descend and join this crowd awhile, And speak what things shall come into they mouth.

SPIRIT SINISTER I’ll harken! I wouldn’t miss it for the groans on another Austerlitz! [The Spirit of Rumour enters on the scene in the disguise of a young foreigner.]

SPIRIT [to a street-woman] Lady, a late hour this to be afoot!

WOMAN Poor profit, then, to me from my true trade, Wherein hot competition is so rife Already, since these victories brought to town So many foreign jobbers in my line, That I’d best hold my tongue from praise of fame! However, one is caught by popular zeal, And though five midnights have not brought a sou, I, too, chant Jubilate like the rest.— In courtesies have haughty monarchs vied Towards the Conqueror! who, with men-at-arms One quarter theirs, has vanquished by his nerve Vast mustering four-hundred-thousand strong, And given new tactics to the art of war Unparalleled in Europe’s history!

SPIRIT What man is this, whose might thou blazonest so— Who makes the earth to tremble, shakes old thrones, And turns the plains to wilderness?

WOMAN Dost ask As ignorant, yet asking can define? What mean you, traveller?

SPIRIT I am a stranger here, A wandering wight, whose life has not been spent This side the globe, though I can speak the tongue.

WOMAN Your air has truth in’t; but your state is strange! Had I a husband he should tackle thee.

SPIRIT Dozens thou hast had—batches more than she Samaria knew, if now thou hast not one!

WOMAN Wilt take the situation from this hour?

SPIRIT Thou know’st not what thy frailty asks, good dame!

WOMAN Well, learn in small the Emperor’s chronicle, As gleaned from what my soldier-husbands say:— some five-and-forty standards of his foes Are brought to Paris, borne triumphantly In proud procession through the surging streets, Ever as brands of fame to shine aloft In dim-lit senate-halls and city aisles.

SPIRIT Fair Munich sparkled with festivity As there awhile he tarried, and was met By the gay Joséphine your Empress here.— There, too, Eugène—

WOMAN Napoléon’s stepson he—-

SPIRIT Received for gift the hand of fair Princess Augusta [daughter of Bavaria’s crown, Forced from her plighted troth to Baden’s heir], And, to complete his honouring, was hailed Successor to the throne of Italy.

WOMAN How know you, ere this news has got abroad?

SPIRIT Channels have I the common people lack.— There, on the nonce, the forenamed Baden prince Was joined to Stephanie Beauharnais, her Who stands as daughter to the man we wait, Some say as more.

WOMAN They do? Then such not I. Can revolution’s dregs so soil thy soul That thou shouldst doubt the eldest son thereof? ’Tis dangerous to insinuate nowadays!

SPIRIT Right! Lady many-spoused, more charity Upbrims in thee than in some loftier ones Who would not name thee with their white-washed tongues.— Enough. I am one whom, didst thou know my name, Thou would’st not grudge a claim to speak his mind.

WOMAN A thousand pardons, sir.

SPIRIT Resume thy tale If so thou wishest.

WOMAN Nay, but you know best—-

SPIRIT How laurelled progress through applauding crowds Have marked his journey home. How Strasburg town, Stuttgart, Carlsruhe, acclaimed him like the rest: How pageantry would here have welcomed him, Had not his speed outstript intelligence —Now will a glimpse of him repay thee. Hark! [Shouts arise and increase in the distance, announcing BONAPARTE’S approach.] Well, Buonaparte has revived by land, But not by sea. On that thwart element Never will he incorporate his dream, And float as master!

WOMAN What shall hinder him?

SPIRIT That which has hereto. England, so to say.

WOMAN But she’s in straits. She lost her Nelson now, [A worthy man: he loved a woman well!] George drools and babbles in a darkened room; Her heaven-born Minister declines apace; All smooths the Emperor’s sway.

SPIRIT Tales have two sides, Sweet lady. Vamped-up versions reach thee here.— That Austerlitz was lustrous none ignores, But would it shock thy garrulousness to know That the true measure of this Trafalgar— Utter defeat, ay, France’s naval death— Your Emperor bade be hid?

WOMAN The seer’s gift Has never plenteously endowed me, sir, As in appearance you. But to plain sense Thing’s seem as stated.

SPIRIT We’ll let seemings be.— But know, these English take to liquid life Right patly—nursed therefor in infancy By rimes and rains which creep into their blood, Till like seeks like. The sea is their dry land, And, as on cobbles you, they wayfare there.

WOMAN Heaven prosper, then, their watery wayfarings If they’ll leave us the land!—[The Imperial carriage appears.] The Emperor!— Long live the Emperor!—He’s the best by land. [BONAPARTE’S carriage arrives, without an escort. The street lamps shine in, and reveal the EMPRESS JOSÉPHINE seated beside him. The plaudits of the people grow boisterous as they hail him Victor of Austerlitz. The more active run after the carriage, which turns in from the Rue St. Honore to the Carrousel, and thence vanishes into the Court of the Tuileries.]

WOMAN May all success attend his next exploit!

SPIRIT Namely: to put the knife in England’s trade, And teach her treaty-manners—if he can!

WOMAN I like not your queer knowledge, creepy man. There’s weirdness in your air. I’d call you ghost Had not the Goddess Reason laid all such Past Mother Church’s cunning to restore. —Adieu. I’ll not be yours to-night. I’d starve first! [She withdraws. The crowd wastes away, and the Spirit vanishes.]