DALRYMPLE Maybe that, finding himself blade to blade With Bonaparte at last, his blood gets quick. French lancers of the Guard were seen at Frasnes Last midnight; so the clash is not far off. [They leave.] DE LANCEY [to his wife] I take you to our door, and say good-bye, And go thence to the Duke's and wait for him. In a few hours we shall be all in motion Towards the scene of--what we cannot tell! You, dear, will haste to Antwerp till it's past, As we have arranged. [They leave.] WELLINGTON [to Richmond] Now I must also go, And snatch a little snooze ere harnessing. The Prince and Brunswick have been gone some while. [RICHMOND walks to the door with him. Exit WELLINGTON, RICHMOND returns.] DUCHESS [to Richmond] Some of these left renew the dance, you see. I cannot stop them; but with memory hot Of those late gone, of where they are gone, and why, It smacks of heartlessness! RICHMOND Let be; let be; Youth comes not twice to fleet mortality! [The dancing, however, is fitful and spiritless, few but civilian partners being left for the ladies. Many of the latter prefer to sit in reverie while waiting for their carriages.] SPIRIT OF THE PITIES When those stout men-at-arms drew forward there, I saw a like grimacing shadow march And pirouette before no few of them. Some of themselves beheld it; some did not. SPIRIT OF THE YEARS Which were so ushered? SPIRIT OF THE PITIES Brunswick, who saw and knew; One also moved before Sir Thomas Picton, Who coolly conned and drily spoke to it; Another danced in front of Ponsonby, Who failed of heeding his.--De Lancey, Hay, Gordon, and Cameron, and many more Were footmanned by like phantoms from the ball. SPIRIT OF THE YEARS Multiplied shimmerings of my Protean friend, Who means to couch them shortly. Thou wilt eye Many fantastic moulds of him ere long, Such as, bethink thee, oft hast eyed before. SPIRIT OF THE PITIES I have--too often! [The attenuated dance dies out, the remaining guests depart, the musicians leave the gallery and depart also. RICHMOND goes to a window and pulls back one of the curtains. Dawn is barely visible in the sky, and the lamps indistinctly reveal that long lines of British infantry have assembled in the street. In the irksomeness of waiting for their officers with marching-orders, they have lain down on the pavements, where many are soundly sleeping, their heads on their knapsacks and their arms by their side.] DUCHESS Poor men. Sleep waylays them. How tired they seem! RICHMOND