THE SAME [The midsummer sun is low, and a long table in the aforeshown apartment is laid out for a dinner, among the decorations being bunches of the season’s roses. At the vacant end of the room [divided from the dining end by folding-doors, now open] there are discovered the EMPEROR NAPOLÉON, the GRAND-DUKE CONSTANTINE, PRINCE HENRY OF PRUSSIA, the PRINCE ROYAL OF BAVARIA, the GRAND DUKE OF BERG, and attendant officers. Enter the TSAR ALEXANDER. NAPOLÉON welcomes him, and the twain move apart from the rest. BONAPARTE placing a chair for his visitor and flinging himself down on another.]

NAPOLÉON The comforts I can offer are not great, Nor is the accommodation more than scant That falls to me for hospitality; But, as it is, accept.

ALEXANDER It serves well. And to unbrace the bandages of state Is as clear air to incense-stifled souls. What of the Queen?

NAPOLÉON She’s coming with the King. We have some quarter-hour to spare or more Before their Majesties are timed for us.

ALEXANDER Good. I would speak of them. That she should show here After the late events, betokens much! Abasement in so proud a woman’s heart [His voice grows tremulous.] Is not without a dash of painfulness. And I beseech you, sire, that you hold out Some soothing hope for her?

NAPOLÉON I have, already!— Now, sire, to those affairs we entered on: Strong friendship, grown secure, bids me repeat That you have been much duped by your allies. [ALEXANDER shows mortification.] Prussia’s a shuffler, England a self-seeker, Nobility has shone in you alone. Your error grew of over-generous dreams, And misbeliefs by dullard ministers. By treating personally we speed affairs More in an hour than they in blundering months. Between us two, henceforth, must stand no third. There’s peril in it, while England’s mean ambition Still works to get us skewered by the ears; And in this view your chiefs-of-staff concur.

ALEXANDER The judgment of my officers I share.

NAPOLÉON To recapitulate. Nothing can greaten you Like this alliance. Providence has flung My good friend Sultan Selim from his throne, Leaving me free in dealings with the Porte; And I discern the hour as one to end A rule that Time no longer lets cohere. If I abstain, its spoils will go to swell The power of this same England, our annoy; That country which enchains the trade of towns With such bold reach as to monopolize, Among the rest, the whole of Petersburg’s— Ay!—through her purse, friend, as the lender there!— Shutting that purse, she may incite to—what? Muscovy’s fall, its ruler’s murdering. Her fleet at any minute can encoop Yours in the Baltic; in the Black Sea, too; And keep you snug as minnows in a glass! Hence we, fast-fellowed by our mutual foes, Seaward the British, Germany by land, And having compassed, for our common good, The Turkish Empire’s due partitioning, As comrades can conjunctly rule the world To its own gain and our eternal fame!

ALEXANDER [stirred and flushed] I see vast prospects opened!—yet, in truth, Ere you, sire, broached these themes, their outlines loomed Not seldom in my own imaginings; But with less clear a vision than endows So great a captain, statesman, philosoph, As centre in yourself; whom had I known Sooner by some few years, months, even weeks, I had been spared full many a fault of rule. —Now as to Austria. Should we call her in?

NAPOLÉON Two in a bed I have slept, but never three.

ALEXANDER Ha-ha! Delightful. And, then nextly, Spain?

NAPOLÉON I lighted on some letters at Berlin, Wherein King Carlos offered to attack me. A Bourbon, minded thus, so near as Spain, Is dangerous stuff. He must be seen to soon!... A draft, then, of our treaty being penned, We will peruse it later. If King George Will not, upon the terms there offered him, Conclude a ready peace, he can be forced. Trumpet yourself as France’s firm ally, And Austria will fain to do the same: England, left nude to such joint harassment, Must shiver—fall.

ALEXANDER [with naive enthusiasm] It is a great alliance!

NAPOLÉON Would it were one in blood as well as brain— Of family hopes, and sweet domestic bliss!

ALEXANDER Ah—is it to my sister you refer?

NAPOLÉON The launching of a lineal progeny Has been much pressed upon me, much, of late, For reasons which I will not dwell on now. Staid counsellors, my brother Joseph, too, Urge that I loose the Empress by divorce, And re-wive promptly for the country’s good. Princesses even have been named for me!— However this, to-day, is premature, And ’twixt ourselves alone.... The Queen of Prussia must ere long be here: Berthier escorts her. And the King, too, comes. She’s one whom you admire?

ALEXANDER [reddening ingenuously] Yes.... Formerly I had—did feel that some faint fascination Vaguely adorned her form. And, to be plain, Certain reports have been calumnious, And wronged an honest woman.

NAPOLÉON As I knew! But she is wearing thready: why, her years Must be full one-and-thirty, if she’s one.

ALEXANDER [quickly] No, sire. She’s twenty-nine. If traits teach more It means that cruel memory gnaws at her As fair inciter to that fatal war Which broke her to the dust!... I do confess [Since now we speak on’t] that this sacrifice Prussia is doomed to, still disquiets me. Unhappy King! When I recall the oaths Sworn him upon great Frederick’s sepulchre, And—and my promises to his sad Queen, It pricks me that his realm and revenues Should be stript down to the mere half they were!

NAPOLÉON [cooly] Believe me, ’tis but my regard for you Which lets me leave him that! Far easier ’twere To leave him none at all. [He rises and goes to the window.] But here they are. No; it’s the Queen alone, with Berthier As I directed. Then the King will follow.

ALEXANDER Let me, sire, urge your courtesy to bestow Some gentle words on her?

NAPOLÉON Ay, ay; I will. [Enter QUEEN LOUISA OF PRUSSIA on the arm of BERTHIER. She appears in majestic garments and with a smile on her lips, so that her still great beauty is impressive. But her eyes bear traces of tears. She accepts NAPOLÉON’S attentions with the stormily sad air of a wounded beauty. Whilst she is being received the KING arrives. He is a plain, shy, honest-faced, awkward man, with a wrecked and solitary look. His manner to NAPOLÉON is, nevertheless, dignified, and even stiff. The company move into the inner half of the room, where the tables are, and the folding-doors being shut, they seat themselves at dinner, the QUEEN taking a place between NAPOLÉON and ALEXANDER.]

NAPOLÉON Madame, I love magnificent attire; But in the present instance can but note That each bright knot and jewel less adorns The brighter wearer than the wearer it!

QUEEN [with a sigh] You praise one, sire, whom now the wanton world Has learnt to cease from praising! But such words From such a quarter are of worth no less.

NAPOLÉON Of worth as candour, madame; not as gauge. Your reach in rarity outsoars my scope. Yet, do you know, a troop of my hussars, That last October day, nigh captured you?

QUEEN Nay! Never a single Frenchman did I see.

NAPOLÉON Not less it was that you exposed yourself, And should have been protected. But at Weimar, Had you but sought me, ’twould have bettered you.

QUEEN I had no zeal to meet you, sire, alas!

NAPOLÉON [after a silence] And how at Memel do you sport with time?

QUEEN Sport? I!—I pore on musty chronicles, And muse on usurpations long forgot, And other historied dramas of high wrong!

NAPOLÉON Why con not annals of your own rich age? They treasure acts well fit for pondering.

QUEEN I am reminded too much of my age By having had to live in it. May Heaven Defend me now, and my wan ghost anon, From conning it again!

NAPOLÉON Alas, alas! Too grievous, this, for one who is yet a queen!

QUEEN No; I have cause for vials more of grief.— Prussia was blind in blazoning her power Against the Mage of Earth!... The embers of great Frederick’s deeds inflamed her: His glories swelled her to her ruining. Too well has she been punished! [Emotion stops her.]

ALEXANDER [in a low voice, looking anxiously at her] Say not so. You speak as all were lost. Things are not thus! Such desperation has unreason in it, And bleeds the hearts that crave to comfort you.

NAPOLÉON [to the King] I trust the treaty, further pondered, sire, Has consolations?

KING [curtly] I am a luckless man; And muster strength to bear my lucklessness Without vain hope of consolations now. One thing, at least, I trust I have shown you, sire That I provoked not this calamity! At Anspach first my feud with you began— Anspach, my Eden, violated and shamed By blushless tramplings of your legions there!

NAPOLÉON It’s rather late, methinks, to talk thus now.

KING [with more choler] Never too late for truth and plainspeaking!

NAPOLÉON [blandly] To your ally, the Tsar, I must refer you. He was it, and not I, who tempted you To push for war, when Eylau must have shown Your every profit to have lain in peace.— He can indemn; yes, much or small; and may.

KING [with a head-shake] I would make up, would well make up, my mind To half my kingdom’s loss, could in such limb But Magdeburg not lie. Dear Magdeburg, Place of my heart-hold; THAT I would retain!

NAPOLÉON Our words take not such pattern as is wont To grace occasions of festivity. [He turns brusquely from the King. The banquet proceeds with a more general conversation. When finished a toast is proposed: “The Freedom of the Seas,” and drunk with enthusiasm.]

SPIRIT SINISTER Another hit at England and her tubs! I hear harsh echoes from her chalky chines.

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES O heed not England now! Still read the Queen. One grieves to see her spend her pretty spells Upon the man who has so injured her. [They rise from table, and the folding-doors being opened they pass into the adjoining room. Here are now assembled MURAT, TALLEYRAND, KOURAKIN, KALKREUTH, BERTHIER, BESSIERES, CAULAINCOURT, LABANOFF, BENNIGSEN, and others. NAPOLÉON having spoken a few words here and there resumes his conversation with QUEEN LOUISA, and parenthetically offers snuff to the COUNTESS VOSS, her lady-in-waiting. TALLEYRAND, who has observed NAPOLÉON’S growing interest in the QUEEN, contrives to get near him.]

TALLEYRAND [in a whisper] Sire, is it possible that you can bend To let one woman’s fairness filch from you All the resplendent fortune that attends The grandest victory of your grand career? [The QUEEN’S quick eye observes and flashes at the whisper, and she obtains a word with the minister.]

QUEEN [sarcastically] I should infer, dear Monsieur Talleyrand, Only two persons in the world regret My having come to Tilsit.

TALLEYRAND Madame, two? Can any!—who may such sad rascals be?

QUEEN You, and myself, Prince. [Gravely.] Yes! myself and you. [TALLEYRAND’S face becomes impassive, and he does not reply. Soon the QUEEN prepares to leave, and NAPOLÉON rejoins her.]

NAPOLÉON [taking a rose from a vase] Dear Queen, do pray accept this little token As souvenir of me before you go? [He offers her the rose, with his hand on his heart. She hesitates, but accepts it.]

QUEEN [impulsively, with waiting tears] Let Magdeburg come with it, sire! O yes!

NAPOLÉON [with sudden frigidity] It is for you to take what I can give. And I give this—no more.15 [She turns her head to hide her emotion, and withdraws. NAPOLÉON steps up to her, and offers his arm. She takes it silently, and he perceives the tears on her cheeks. They cross towards the ante- room, away from the other guests.]

NAPOLÉON [softly] Still weeping, dearest lady! Why is this?

QUEEN [seizing his hand and pressing it] Your speeches darn the tearings of your sword!— Between us two, as man and woman now, Is’t even possible you question why! O why did not the Greatest of the Age— Of future ages—of the ages past, This one time win a woman’s worship—yea, For all her little life!

NAPOLÉON [gravely] Know you, my Fair That I—ay, I—in this deserve your pity.— Some force within me, baffling mine intent, Harries me onward, whether I will or no. My star, my star is what’s to blame—not I. It is unswervable!

QUEEN Then now, alas! My duty’s done as mother, wife, and queen.— I’ll say no more—but that my heart is broken! [Exeunt NAPOLÉON, QUEEN, and LADY-IN-WAITING.]

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS He spoke thus at the Bridge of Lodi. Strange, He’s of the few in Europe who discern The working of the Will.

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES If that be so, Better for Europe lacked he such discerning! [NAPOLÉON returns to the room and joins TALLEYRAND.]

NAPOLÉON [aside to his minister] My God, it was touch-and-go that time, Talleyrand! She was within an ace of getting over me. As she stepped into the carriage she said in her pretty way, “O I have been cruelly deceived by you!” And when she sank down inside, not knowing I heard, she burst into sobs fit to move a statue. The Devil take me if I hadn’t a good mind to stop the horses, jump in, give her a good kissing, and agree to all she wanted. Ha-ha, well; a miss is as good as a mile. Had she come sooner with those sweet, beseeching blue eyes of hers, who knows what might not have happened! But she didn’t come sooner, and I have kept in my right mind. [The RUSSIAN EMPEROR, the KING OF PRUSSIA, and other guests advance to bid adieu. They depart severally. When they are gone NAPOLÉON turns to TALLEYRAND.] Adhere, then, to the treaty as it stands: Change not therein a single article, But write it fair forthwith. [Exeunt NAPOLÉON, TALLEYRAND, and other ministers and officers in waiting.[

SHADE OF THE EARTH Some surly voice afar I heard now Of an enisled Britannic quality; Wots any of the cause?

SPIRIT IRONIC Perchance I do! Britain is roused, in her slow, stolid style, By Bonaparte’s pronouncement at Berlin Against her cargoes, commerce, life itself; And now from out her water citadel Blows counterblasting “Orders.” Rumours tell.

RUMOUR I “From havens of fierce France and her allies, With poor or precious freight of merchandize Whoso adventures, England pounds as prize!”

RUMOUR II Thereat Napoléon names her, furiously, Curst Oligarch, Arch-pirate of the sea, Who shall lack room to live while liveth he!

CHORUS OF THE PITIES [aerial music] And peoples are enmeshed in new calamity! [Curtain of Evening Shades.]