handra, under Hill. Beside
one of the roads two or three of the soldiers are dangling from a
tree by the neck, probably for plundering.

The Dumb Show ends, and the point of view sinks to the earth.

SCENE II

THE SAME. OUTSIDE THE LINES

[The winter day has gloomed to a stormful evening, and the road
outside the first line of defence forms the foreground of the stage.

Enter in the dusk from the hills to the north of the entrenchment,
near Calandrix, a group of horsemen, which includes MASSENA in
command of the French forces, FOY, LOISON, and other officers of
his staff.

They ride forward in the twilight and tempest, and reconnoitre,
till they see against the sky the ramparts blocking the road they
pursue. They halt silently. MASSENA, puzzled, endeavours with his
glass to make out the obstacle.]

MASSENA

Something stands here to peril our advance,
Or even prevent it!

FOY

These are the English lines--
Their outer horns and tusks--whereof I spoke,
Constructed by Lord Wellington of late
To keep his foothold firm in Portugal.

MASSENA

Thrusts he his burly, bossed disfigurements
So far to north as this? I had pictured me
The lay much nearer Lisbon. Little strange
Lord Wellington rode placid at Busaco
With this behind his back! Well, it is hard
But that we turn them somewhere, I assume?
They scarce can close up every southward gap
Between the Tagus and the Atlantic Sea.

FOY

I hold they can, and do; although, no doubt,
By searching we shall spy some raggedness
Which customed skill may force.

MASSENA

Plain 'tis, no less,
We may heap corpses vainly hereabout,
And crack good bones in waste. By human power
This passes mounting! What say you's behind?

LOISON

Another line exactly like the first,
But more matured. Behind its back a third.

MASSENA

How long have these prim ponderosities
Been rearing up their foreheads to the moon?

LOISON

Some months in all. I know not quite how long.
They are Lord Wellington's select device,
And, like him, heavy, slow, laborious, sure.

MASSENA

May he enjoy their sureness. He deserves to.
I had no inkling of such barriers here.
A good road runs along their front, it seems,
Which offers us advantage.... What a night!

[The tempest cries dismally about the