We'll take our work up where we last left off. Eighteen hundred and five, I think?
I beg your pardon, I thought you meant--h'm--Destiny Was cruel to the righteous cause. We'll cast Only a fleeting glance at hapless hours. When the philosopher with pensive gaze--
And so in eighteen five, sir, nothing happened?
A great event, my Lord! I had forgotten. The restoration of the Calendar. A little later, having challenged England, Spain--
Your father's wishes in the Pressburg Treaty, As far as that went, chimed with those of Austria.
So soon? How quick! Strange epoch! Nothing happened in it!
Yes. For instance, take the House of the Braganzas: The King--
Nothing of any consequence till eighteen-eight. Yet let us note the Treaty of Tilsit.
Well-- I hardly know--you're in a merry humor--
You hardly know? Then, gentlemen, I'll tell you! The sixth October, eighteen-five--
When he was least expected, when Vienna, Watching the Eagle hover ere he swooped, Sighed with relief, The blow is aimed at London! Having left Strassburg, crossed the Rhine at Kehl, The Emperor--
Yes! and you know which! Marches through Würtemberg, marches through Baden--
Gives Austria a morning song, With drums by Soult, and trumpets by Murat! At Wertingen and Augsburg leaves his Marshals With here and there a victory to play with--
Pursues with wonderful manoeuvres. Arrives at Ulm before he's changed his boots. Bids Ney take Elchingen, sits down and writes A joyous, terrible, and calm despatch. Prepares the assault:--the seventeenth October Sees seven thousand Austrians disarmed, And eighteen generals at the hero's feet; And then he starts again!
November Finds him at Schönbrunn, sleeping in my bedroom.
He pursues! his foes are in his hand! One night he says "To-morrow!" and to-morrow Says, galloping along the bannered front-- A spot of grey among his brilliant staff-- "Soldiers, we'll finish with a thunderbolt!" The army is an ocean. He awaits The rising sun, and places with a smile This risen sun athwart his history!
Terror and death! Two Emperors beaten by one! And twenty thousand prisoners!
When the campaign was over-- The corpses floating on the freezing lake-- My Grandsire seeks my Father in his camp!
And so my Father grants my Grandsire peace!