A thousand pardons, sir. SPIRIT Resume thy tale If so thou wishest. WOMAN Nay, but you know best--- SPIRIT How laurelled progress through applauding crowds Have marked his journey home. How Strasburg town, Stuttgart, Carlsruhe, acclaimed him like the rest: How pageantry would here have welcomed him, Had not his speed outstript intelligence --Now will a glimpse of him repay thee. Hark! [Shouts arise and increase in the distance, announcing BONAPARTE'S approach.] Well, Buonaparte has revived by land, But not by sea. On that thwart element Never will he incorporate his dream, And float as master! WOMAN What shall hinder him? SPIRIT That which has hereto. England, so to say. WOMAN But she's in straits. She lost her Nelson now, [A worthy man: he loved a woman well!] George drools and babbles in a darkened room; Her heaven-born Minister declines apace; All smooths the Emperor's sway. SPIRIT Tales have two sides, Sweet lady. Vamped-up versions reach thee here.-- That Austerlitz was lustrous none ignores, But would it shock thy garrulousness to know That the true measure of this Trafalgar-- Utter defeat, ay, France's naval death-- Your Emperor bade be hid? WOMAN The seer's gift Has never plenteously endowed me, sir, As in appearance you. But to plain sense Thing's seem as stated. SPIRIT We'll let seemings be.-- But know, these English take to liquid life Right patly--nursed therefor in infancy By rimes and rains which creep into their blood, Till like seeks like. The sea is their dry land, And, as on cobbles you, they wayfare there. WOMAN Heaven prosper, then, their watery wayfarings If they'll leave us the land!--[The Imperial carriage appears.] The Emperor!-- Long live the Emperor!--He's the best by land. [BONAPARTE'S carriage arrives, without an escort. The street lamps shine in, and reveal the EMPRESS JOSEPHINE seated beside him. The plaudits of the people grow boisterous as they hail him Victor of Austerlitz. The more active run after the carriage, which turns in from the Rue St. Honore to the Carrousel, and thence vanishes into the Court of the Tuileries.] WOMAN May all success attend his next exploit! SPIRIT Namely: to put the knife in England's trade, And teach her treaty-manners--if he can! WOMAN I like not your queer knowledge, creepy man. There's weirdness in your air. I'd call you ghost Had not the Goddess Reason laid all such Past Mother Church's cunning to restore. --Adieu. I'll not be yours to-night. I'd starve first! [She withdraws. The crowd wastes away, and the Spirit vanishes.] SCENE VIII PUTNEY. BOWLING GREEN HOUSE