THE FOURTH WATCHER: My hair stands on end and my tears pour forth like the melting snow! And I will utter such a cry That one would think that a dead man had risen from his tomb, sending the stone flying! What! That armed horde that fell upon us terribly arrayed, those successive lines, those strong columns that, marching like one man, advanced across the valleys and the plains, that interminable line of cannon.... THE MESSENGER: I said that we had conquered. Did you not understand? I said that we had won the battle. THE FOURTH WATCHER: What is a single battle? The menace is always there. THE MESSENGER: The enemy is retreating, struck with terror. Halted as though he had seen The Angel of Death! THE THIRD WATCHER: Of course! He was here! He has shown himself in their path. THE SECOND WATCHER: You say that the enemy is retreating? THE MESSENGER: Retreating! Routed! Fleeing! THE FOURTH WATCHER: You bring warmth into a frozen place and into a pitch black night a dazzling brightness. Be patient with me! Repeat it yet again! Nourish my heart with that sustaining word! THE MESSENGER: We have conquered! We have driven them before us! Our strength has prevailed! THE FOURTH WATCHER: Triumph! THE FIRST WATCHER: Do you say nothing, Sire? THE KING: O my children! I cannot speak, For an hour better than I have deserved Has come upon me, On me, the incapable, useless governor of this country! O Messenger, you have restored their taste to bread and wine. Let the bells ring out till all the air resounds, Let the round brazen throats beneath the bell-ringer's feet fill with our jubilation, The circle of the earth and the height of heaven! Let the singers of our triumph stand forth together, And let their mouths exhaling A song of benediction, eat of the sun till evening! Wine! Wine! I wish to drink with you, O Messenger, Even as two carters do who meet in a roadside inn! _(Wine is brought._ O fortune, I drink to you with this trembling hand! Accept this toast! O fortune, since you have given us this hour, conduct us where you will! (_He drinks._) Excellent glass of wine! THE MESSENGER: I cannot Put wine between my teeth till that excessive joy Which buoyed me upon my horse as I galloped towards you Has spoken. I say that the kingdom has been saved by handfuls of gold and jewels! He was not ashamed to beg, on the bridges, at the cross-roads, Stretching out his princely hands, Burying in the mud his armored knees.... THE THIRD WATCHER: We have seen him! THE MESSENGER: ... Fixing before him his sparkling eyes, like an Andromeda with horse's mane, more proud than the god of the wind when at the water's edge He kneels, stretching out his hands to the chains on the rocks of Occismor, Till he was buried up to the thighs in alms! For each man looked at him with astonishment, and struck with a vague shame, he gave in silence all that he had and placed it on the ground before him.