[WELLINGTON calls up various general officers and aides from other parts of the room. PICTON, UXBRIDGE, HILL, CLINTON, VIVIAN, MAITLAND, PONSONBY, SOMERSET, and others join him in succession, receive orders, and go out severally.] PRINCE OF ORANGE As my divisions seem to lie around The probable point of impact, it behoves me To start at once, Duke, for Genappe, I deem? Being in Brussels, all for this damned ball, The dispositions out there have, so far, Been made by young Saxe Weimar and Perponcher, On their own judgment quite. I go, your Grace? WELLINGTON Yes, certainly. 'Tis now desirable. Farewell! Good luck, until we meet again, The battle won! [Exit PRINCE OF ORANGE, and shortly after, MUFFLING. RICHMOND returns with a map, which he spreads out on the table. WELLINGTON scans it closely.] Napoleon has befooled me, By God he has,--gained four-and-twenty hours' Good march upon me! RICHMOND What do you mean to do? WELLINGTON I have bidden the army concentrate in strength At Quatre-Bras. But we shan't stop him there; So I must fight him HERE. [He marks Waterloo with his thumbnail.] Well, now I have sped, All necessary orders I may sup, And then must say good-bye. [To Brunswick.] This very day There will be fighting, Duke. You are fit to start? BRUNSWICK [coming forward] I leave almost this moment.--Yes, your Grace-- And I sheath not my sword till I have avenged My father's death. I have sworn it! WELLINGTON My good friend, Something too solemn knells beneath your words. Take cheerful views of the affair in hand, And fall to't with _sang froid_! BRUNSWICK But I have sworn! Adieu. The rendezvous is Quatre-Bras? WELLINGTON Just so. The order is unchanged. Adieu; But only till a later hour to-day; I see it is one o'clock. [WELLINGTON and RICHMOND go out of the alcove and join the hostess, BRUNSWICK'S black figure being left there alone. He bends over the map for a few seconds.] SPIRIT OF THE YEARS O Brunswick, Duke of Deathwounds! Even as he For whom thou wear'st that filial weedery Was waylaid by my tipstaff nine years since, So thou this day shalt feel his fendless tap, And join thy sire! BRUNSWICK [starting up] I am stirred by inner words, As 'twere my father's angel calling me,-- That prelude to our death my lineage know! [He stands in a reverie for a moment; then, bidding adieu to the DUCHESS OF RICHMOND and her daughter, goes slowly out of the ballroom by a side-door.] DUCHESS The Duke of Brunswick bore him gravely here. His sable shape has stuck me all the eve As one of those romantic presences We hear of--seldom see. WELLINGTON [phlegmatically]