VIENNA. A CAFE IN THE STEPHANS-PLATZ [An evening between light and dark is disclosed, some lamps being lit. The huge body and tower of St. Stephen’s rise into the sky some way off, the western gleam still touching the upper stonework. Groups of people are seated at the tables, drinking and reading the newspapers. One very animated group, which includes an Englishman, is talking loudly. A citizen near looks up from his newspaper.]

CITIZEN [to the Englishman] I read, sir, here, the troubles you discuss Of your so gallant army under Moore. His was a spirit baffled but not quelled, And in his death there shone a stoicism That lent retreat the rays of victory.

ENGLISHMAN It was so. While men chide they will admire him, And frowning, praise. I could nigh prophesy That the unwonted crosses he has borne In his career of sharp vicissitude Will tinct his story with a tender charm, And grant the memory of his strenuous feats As long a lease within the minds of men As conquerors hold there.—Does the sheet give news Of how the troops reached home?

CITIZEN [looking up again at the paper] Yes; from your press It quotes that they arrived at Plymouth Sound Mid dreadful weather and much suffering. It states they looked the very ghosts of men, So heavily had hunger told on them, And the fatigues and toils of the retreat. Several were landed dead, and many died As they were borne along. At Portsmouth, too, Sir David Baird, still helpless from his wound, Was carried in a cot, sheet-pale and thin, And Sir John Hope, lank as a skeleton.— Thereto is added, with authority, That a new expedition soon will fit, And start again for Spain.

ENGLISHMAN I have heard as much.

CITIZEN You’ll do it next time, sir. And so shall we!

SECOND CITIZEN [regarding the church tower opposite] You witnessed the High Service over there They held this morning? [To the Englishman.]

ENGLISHMAN Ay; I did get in; Though not without hard striving, such the throng; But travellers roam to waste who shyly roam And I pushed like the rest.

SECOND CITIZEN Our young Archduchess Maria Louisa was, they tell me, present?

ENGLISHMAN O yes: the whole Imperial family, And when the Bishop called all blessings down Upon the Landwehr colours there displayed, Enthusiasm touched the sky—she sharing it.

SECOND CITIZEN Commendable in her, and spirited, After the graceless insults to the Court The Paris journals flaunt—not voluntarily, But by his ordering. Magician-like He holds them in his fist, and at his squeeze They bubble what he wills!... Yes, she’s a girl Of patriotic build, and hates the French. Quite lately she was overheard to say She had met with most convincing auguries That this year Bonaparte was starred to die.

ENGLISHMAN Your arms must render its fulfilment sure.

SECOND CITIZEN Right! And we have the opportunity, By upping to the war in suddenness, And catching him unaware. The pink and flower Of all his veteran troops are now in Spain Fully engaged with yours; while those he holds In Germany are scattered far and wide.

FIRST CITIZEN [looking up again from his newspaper] I see here that he vows and guarantees Inviolate bounds to all our territories If we but pledge to carry out forthwith A prompt disarmament. Since that’s his price Hell burn his guarantees! Too long he has fooled us. [To the Englishman] I drink, sir, to your land’s consistency. While we and all the kindred Europe States Alternately have wooed and warred him, You have not bent to blowing hot and cold, But held you sturdily inimical!

ENGLISHMAN [laughing] Less Christian-like forgiveness mellows us Than Continental souls! [They drink.] [A band is heard in a distant street, with shouting. Enter third and fourth citizens, followed by others.]

FIRST CITIZEN More news afloat?

THIRD AND FOURTH CITIZENS Yea; an announcement that the Archduke Charles Is given the chief command.

FIRST, SECOND, ETC., CITIZENS Huzza! Right so! [A clinking of glasses, rising from seats, and general enthusiasm.]

SECOND CITIZEN If war had not so patly been declared, Our howitzers and firelocks of themselves Would have gone off to shame us! This forenoon Some of the Landwehr met me; they are hot For setting out, though but few months enrolled.

ENGLISHMAN That moves reflection somewhat. They are young For measuring with the veteran file of France!

FIRST CITIZEN Napoléon’s army swarms with tender youth, His last conscription besomed into it Thousands of merest boys. But he contrives To mix them in the field with seasoned frames.

SECOND CITIZEN The sadly-seen mistake this country made Was that of grounding hostile arms at all. We should have fought irreconcilably— Have been consistent as the English are. The French are our hereditary foes, And this adventurer of the saucy sword, This sacrilegious slighter of our shrines, Stands author of all our ills... Our harvest fields and fruits he trample on, Accumulating ruin in our land. Think of what mournings in the last sad war ’Twas his to instigate and answer for! Time never can efface the glint of tears In palaces, in shops, in fields, in cots, From women widowed, sonless, fatherless, That then oppressed our eyes. There is no salve For such deep harrowings but to fight again; The enfranchisement of Europe hangs thereon, And long she has lingered for the sign to crush him: That signal we have given; the time is come! [Thumping on the table.]

FIFTH CITIZEN [at another table, looking up from his paper and speaking across] I see that Russia has declined to aid us, And says she knows that Prussia likewise must; So that the mission of Prince Schwarzenberg To Alexander’s Court has closed in failure.

THIRD CITIZEN Ay—through his being honest—fatal sin!— Probing too plainly for the Emperor’s ears His ominous friendship with Napoléon.

ENGLISHMAN Some say he was more than honest with the Tsar; Hinting that his becoming an ally Makes him accomplice of the Corsican In the unprincipled dark overthrow Of his poor trusting childish Spanish friends— Which gave the Tsar offence.

THIRD CITIZEN And our best bid— The last, most delicate dish—a tastelessness.

FIRST CITIZEN What was Prince Schwarzenberg’s best bid, I pray?

THIRD CITIZEN The offer of the heir of Austria’s hand For Alexander’s sister the Grand-Duchess.

ENGLISHMAN He could not have accepted, if or no: She is inscribed as wife for Bonaparte.

FIRST CITIZEN I doubt that text!

ENGLISHMAN Time’s context soon will show.

SECOND CITIZEN The Russian Cabinet can not for long Resist the ardour of the Russian ranks To march with us the moment we achieve Our first loud victory! [A band is heard playing afar, and shouting. People are seen hurrying past in the direction of the sounds. Enter sixth citizen.]

SIXTH CITIZEN The Archduke Charles Is passing the Ringstrasse just by now, His regiment at his heels! [The younger sitters jump up with animation, and go out, the elder mostly remaining.]

SECOND CITIZEN Realm never faced The grin of a more fierce necessity For horrid war, than ours at this tense time! [The sounds of band-playing and huzzaing wane away. Citizens return.]

FIRST CITIZEN More news, my friends, of swiftly swelling zeal?

RE-ENTERED CITIZENS Ere passing down the Ring, the Archduke paused And gave the soldiers speech, enkindling them As sunrise a confronting throng of panes That glaze a many-windowed east facade: Hot volunteers vamp in from vill and plain— More than we need in the furthest sacrifice!

FIRST, SECOND, ETC., CITIZENS Huzza! Right so! Good! Forwards! God be praised! [They stand up, and a clinking of glasses follows, till they subside to quietude and a reperusal of newspapers. Nightfall succeeds. Dancing-rooms are lit up in an opposite street, and dancing begins. The figures are seen gracefully moving round to the throbbing strains of a string-band, which plays a new waltzing movement with a warlike name, soon to spread over Europe. The dancers sing patriotic words as they whirl. The night closes over.]