THE SAME. OUTSIDE THE LINES [The winter day has gloomed to a stormful evening, and the road outside the first line of defence forms the foreground of the stage. Enter in the dusk from the hills to the north of the entrenchment, near Calandrix, a group of horsemen, which includes MASSÉNA in command of the French forces, FOY, LOISON, and other officers of his staff. They ride forward in the twilight and tempest, and reconnoitre, till they see against the sky the ramparts blocking the road they pursue. They halt silently. MASSÉNA, puzzled, endeavours with his glass to make out the obstacle.]

MASSÉNA Something stands here to peril our advance, Or even prevent it!

FOY These are the English lines— Their outer horns and tusks—whereof I spoke, Constructed by Lord Wellington of late To keep his foothold firm in Portugal.

MASSÉNA Thrusts he his burly, bossed disfigurements So far to north as this? I had pictured me The lay much nearer Lisbon. Little strange Lord Wellington rode placid at Busaco With this behind his back! Well, it is hard But that we turn them somewhere, I assume? They scarce can close up every southward gap Between the Tagus and the Atlantic Sea.

FOY I hold they can, and do; although, no doubt, By searching we shall spy some raggedness Which customed skill may force.

MASSÉNA Plain ’tis, no less, We may heap corpses vainly hereabout, And crack good bones in waste. By human power This passes mounting! What say you’s behind?

LOISON Another line exactly like the first, But more matured. Behind its back a third.

MASSÉNA How long have these prim ponderosities Been rearing up their foreheads to the moon?

LOISON Some months in all. I know not quite how long. They are Lord Wellington’s select device, And, like him, heavy, slow, laborious, sure.

MASSÉNA May he enjoy their sureness. He deserves to. I had no inkling of such barriers here. A good road runs along their front, it seems, Which offers us advantage.... What a night! [The tempest cries dismally about the earthworks above them, as the reconnoitrers linger in the slight shelter the lower ground affords. They are about to turn back. Enter from the cross-road to the right JUNOT and some more officers. They come up at a signal that the others are those they lately parted from.]

JUNOT We have ridden along as far as Calandrix, Favoured therein by this disordered night, Which tongues its language to the disguise of ours; And find amid the vale an open route That, well manoeuvred, may be practicable.

MASSÉNA I’ll look now at it, while the weather aids. If it may serve our end when all’s prepared So good. If not, some other to the west. [Exeunt MASSÉNA, JUNOT, LOISON, FOY, and the rest by the paved crossway to the right. The wind continues to prevail as the spot is left desolate, the darkness increases, rain descends more heavily, and the scene is blotted out.]