It is what such betokens, not their worth, That whets it!... Love, respect for me, have waned; But I will right that. We've good chances still. You must return foot-hot to Quatre-Bras; There Kellermann's cuirassiers will promptly join you To bear the English backward Brussels way. I go on towards Fleurus and Ligny now.-- If Blücher's force retreat, and Wellington's Lie somnolent in Brussels one day more, I gain that city sans a single shot!... Now, friend, downstairs you'll find some supper ready, Which you must tuck in sharply, and then off. The past day has not ill-advantaged us; We have stolen upon the two chiefs unawares, And in such sites that they must fight apart. Now for a two hours' rest.--Comrade, adieu Until to-morrow! NEY Till to-morrow, sire! [Exit NEY. NAPOLEON falls asleep, and the Secretary waits till dictation shall be resumed. BUSSY, the orderly officer, comes to the door. BUSSY Letters--arrived from Paris. [Hands letters.] SECRETARY He shall have them The moment he awakes. These eighteen hours He's been astride; and is not what he was.-- Much news from Paris? BUSSY I can only say What's not the news. The courier has just told me He'd nothing from the Empress at Vienna To bring his Majesty. She writes no more. SECRETARY And never will again! In my regard That bird's forsook the nest for good and all. BUSSY All that they hear in Paris from her court Is through our spies there. One of them reports This rumour of her: that the Archduke John, In taking leave to join our enemies here, Said, “Oh, my poor Louise; I am grieved for you And what I hope is, that he'll be run through, Or shot, or break his neck, for your own good No less than ours. NAPOLEON [waking] By “he” denoting me? BUSSY [starting] Just so, your Majesty. NAPOLEON [peremptorily] What said the Empress? BUSSY She gave no answer, sire, that rumour bears. NAPOLEON Count Neipperg, whom they have made her chamberlain, Interred his wife last spring--is it not so? BUSSY He did, your Majesty. NAPOLEON H'm....You may go. [Exit BUSSY. The Secretary reads letters aloud in succession. He comes to the last; begins it; reaches a phrase, and stops abruptly.] Mind not! Read on. No doubt the usual threat, Or prophecy, from some mad scribe? Who signs it? SECRETARY The subscript is “The Duke of Enghien!” NAPOLEON [starting up] Bah, man! A treacherous trick! A hoax--no more! Is that the last? SECRETARY The last, your Majesty. NAPOLEON Then now I'll sleep. In two hours have me called. SECRETARY I'll give the order, sire. [The Secretary goes. The candles are removed, except one, and NAPOLEON endeavours to compose himself.] SPIRIT IRONIC