rch, "The Downfall of Paris."

SPIRIT OF THE YEARS

You see the scene. And yet you see it not.
What do you notice now?

There immediately is shown visually the electric state of mind that
animates WELLINGTON, GRAHAM, HILL, KEMPT, PICTON, COLVILLE, and other
responsible ones on the British side; and on the French KING JOSEPH
stationary on the hill overlooking his own centre, and surrounded by
a numerous staff that includes his adviser MARSHAL JOURDAN, with,
far away in the field, GAZAN, D'ERLON, REILLE, and other marshals.
This vision, resembling as a whole the interior of a beating brain
lit by phosphorescence, in an instant fades back to normal.

Anon we see the English hussars with their flying pelisses galloping
across the Zadorra on one of the Tres-Puentes in the midst of the
field, as had been planned, the English lines in the foreground under
HILL pushing the enemy up the slopes; and far in the distance, to the
left of Vitoria, whiffs of grey smoke followed by low rumbles show
that the left of the English army under GRAHAM is pushing on there.

Bridge after bridge of the half-dozen over the Zadorra is crossed by
the British; and WELLINGTON, in the centre with PICTON, seeing the
hill and village of Arinez in front of him [eastward] to be weakly
held, carries the regiments of the seventh and third divisions in a
quick run towards it. Supported by the hussars, they ultimately
fight their way to the top, in a chaos of smoke, flame, and booming
echoes, loud-voiced PICTON, in an old blue coat and round hat,
swearing as he goes.

Meanwhile the French who are opposed to the English right, in the
foreground, have been turned by HILL; the heights are all abandoned,
and the columns fall back in a confused throng by the road to
Vitoria, hard pressed by the British, who capture abandoned guns
amid indescribable tumult, till the French make a stand in front
of the town.

SPIRIT OF THE PITIES

What's toward in the distance?--say!

SEMICHORUS I OF RUMOURS [aerial music]

Fitfully flash strange sights there; yea,
Unwonted spectacles of sweat and scare
Behind the French, that make a stand
With eighty cannon, match in hand.--
Upon the highway from the town to rear
An eddy of distraction reigns,
Where lumbering treasure, baggage-trains,
Padding p