e "Bucentaure" and the "Santisima
Trinidad" become jammed together a little way ahead. A smoke
and din of cannonading prevail, amid which the studding-sail
booms are shot away.

NELSON, HARDY, BLACKWOOD, SECRETARY SCOTT, LIEUTENANT PASCO,
BURKE the Purser, CAPTAIN ADAIR of the Marines, and other
officers are on or near the quarter-deck.]

NELSON

See, there, that noble fellow Collingwood,
How straight he helms his ship into the fire!--
Now you'll haste back to yours [to BLACKWOOD].
--We must henceforth
Trust to the Great Disposer of events,
And justice of our cause!...

[BLACKWOOD leaves. The battle grows hotter. A double-headed shot
cuts down seven or eight marines on the "Victory's" poop.]

Captain Adair, part those marines of yours,
And hasten to disperse them round the ship.--
Your place is down below, Burke, not up here;
Ah, yes; like David you would see the battle!

[A heavy discharge of musket-shot comes from the tops of the
"Santisima Trinidad. ADAIR and PASCO fall. Another swathe
of Marines is mowed down by chain-shot.]

SCOTT

My lord, I use to you the utmost prayers
That I have privilege to shape in words:
Remove your stars and orders, I would beg;
That shot was aimed at you.

NELSON

They were awarded to me as an honour,
And shall I do despite to those who prize me,
And slight their gifts? No, I will die with them,
If die I must.

[He walks up and down with HARDY.]

HARDY

At least let's put you on
Your old greatcoat, my lord--[the air is keen.].--
'Twill cover all. So while you still retain
Your dignities, you baulk these deadly aims

NELSON

Thank 'ee, good friend. But no,--I haven't time,
I do assure you--not a trice to spare,
As you well will see.

[A few minutes later SCOTT falls dead, a bullet having pierced
his skull. Immediately after a shot passes between the Admiral
and the Captain, tearing the instep of Hardy's shoe, and striking
away the buckle. They shake off the dust and splinters it has
scattered over them. NELSON glances round, and perceives what
has happened to his secretary.]

NELSON

Poor Scott, too, carried off! Warm work this, Hardy;
Too warm to go on long.

HARDY

I think so, too;
Their lower ports are blocked against our hull,
And our charge now is less. Eac