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As the Being who made him, Who make men without women's aid, have
Had patents for the same, And do not love Till the rose in his cheek
Your interlopers. The devil may take men, Be as fair as, when blowing, Not make them,- though he reap the benefit It wears its first streak!
of the original workmanship:—and there Yo violets, I scatter,
fore Now turn into eyes!
Some vne must be found to assume the shape
You have quitted.
Arnold. Who would do so?
Stranger. That I know not,
And therefore I must.
Arnold. Yon !
Stranger. I said it ere
Arnold. True. I forget all things in
the new joy
Of this immortal change.
Stranger. In a few moments
I will be as you were, and you shall see
Yourself for ever by you, as your shadow.
Arnold. I would be spared this.
Stranger. But it cannot be.
From seeing what you were ?
Arnold. Do as thou wilt.
Stranger (to the late form of Arnold,
tended on the earth).
Clay! not dead, but soul-less!
Though no man would choose thee,
An immortal no less
Designs not to refuse thea
Clay thou art; and unto spirit
All clay is of equal merit.
passes into the shape of Achilles, Fire! without which nought can live;
was formed from the earth. Praying what doth not forgive, Arnold (in his new form). I love, and I Howling for a drop of water, shall be beloved! Oh life!
Burning in a quenchlegs lot:
Where nor fish, beast, bird, nor worm, What shall become of your abandoned Save the worm which dieth not, garment,
Can preserve a moment's form, Your hump, and lump, and clod of ugliness, But must with thyself be blent: Which late you wore, or were ?
Fire! man's safeguard and his slaughter: Arnold. Who cares! Let wolves Fire! Creation's first-born daughter, And vultures take it, if they will.
And Destruction's threatened son, Stranger. And if
When Heaven with the world hath done: They do, and are not scared by it, you'll say Fire! assist me to renew It must be peace-time, and no better fare Life in what lies in my view Abroad i' the fields.
Stiff and cold ! Arnold. Let us but leave it there, His resurrection rests with me and you ! No matter what becomes on't.
One little, marshy spark of flameStranger. That's ungracious,
And he again shall seem the same; If not ungrateful. Whatsoe'er it be, But I his spirit's place shall hold! It hath sustained your soul full many a day.
An Ignis-fatuus flits through the Arnold. Aye, as the dunghill may con
wood, and rests on the brow of
the body. The Stranger disWhich is now set in gold, as jewels should be.
appears: the body rises. Stranger. But if I give another form, it Arnold (in his new form). Oh! horrible! must be
Stranger (in Arnold's late shape). What! By fair exehange, not robbery. For they tremblest thou ?
ceal a gem
Arnold. Not so
Arnold. And these,
Stranger. Why not! The deeper sinner, Arnold. Must thou be my companion ?
better saint. Stranger. Wherefore not?
Arnold. They are beautiful, and cannot, Your betters keep worse company.
sure, be demons? Arnold. My betters!
Stranger. True; the Devil's always ugly;
19 never diabolical.
Who bears the golden horn, and wears
And blooming, aspect, Huon; for he looks And you are old in the world's ways already. Like to the lovely boy lost in the forest But bear with me: indeed you'll find me And never found till now. And for the other useful
And darker, and more thoughtful, who Upon your pilgrimage. But come, pronounce
smiles not, Where shall we nuw be errant ?
But looks as serious though serene as night, Arnold. Where the world
He shall be Memnon, from the Ethiop king
And you ?
(though it was mine once)
Arnold. Why, that name
Belongs to empires, and has been but borne
The Devil in disguise
since 80 you For now the Frank, and Hun, and Spanish
Unless you call me Pope instead.
Shall be plain Arnold still.
Cæsar. We'll add a title-
And will look well upon a billet-doux.
Cæsar (sings). To horse! to horse! my
coal-black steed Enter two Pages, with four coal-black Horses.
Paws the ground and snuffs the air;
There's not a foal of Arab's breed
More knows whom he must bear!
Swifter as it waxes higher ;
In the marsh he will not slacken,
In the wave he will not sink,
In the combat he'll not faint; Around their manes, as common insects On the stones he will not stamble, swarm
Time nor toil shall make him humble;
But be winged as a Griffin,
Only flying with his feet:
of an eye.
And will not such a voyage be sweet ? Of fixed Necessity : against her edict
Cæsar. 'Tis no rebellion. From the Alps to the Caucasus, ride we, Arnold. Will it prosper now? or fly!
Cæsar. The Bourbon hath given orders For we'll leave them behind in the glance for the assault,
And by the dawn there will be work.
And shall the City yield ? I see the giant
Abode of the true God, and his true Saint, SCENE II.-A Camp before the Walls of Saint Peter, rear its dome and cross into Rome.
That sky whence Christ ascended from the
cross, ARNOLD and CÆSAA.
Which his blood made a badge of glory and Cæsar. You are well entered nov. Of joy (as once of torture unto him, Arnold. Aye; but my path
God and God's Son, man's sole and only
Cæsar. 'Tis there, and shall be.
Cæsar. The Crucifix
Pile above pile of everlasting wall, Arnold. How old? What! are there The theatre where emperors and their subjects New worlds ?
(Those subjects Romans) stood a gaze upon Cæsar. To you. You'll find there are The battles of the monarchs of the wild such shortly,
And wood, the lion and his tusky rebels By their rich harvests,new disease, and gold; of the then untamed desert, brought to joust From one half of the world named a whole In the arena; (as right well they might, new one,
When they had left no human foe unconBecause you know no better than the dull quered ;) And dubious notice of your eyes and ears. Made even the forest pay its tribute of Arnold. I'll trust them.
Life to their amphitheatre, as well Cæsar. Do! They will deceive you As Dacia men to die the eternal death sweetly,
For a sole instant's pastime, and “Pass on And that is better than the bitter truth! To a new gladiator!”– Must it fall ? Arnold. Dog!
Cæsar. The city or the amphitheatre? Cæsar. Man !
The church,or one,or all? for you confound Arnold. Devil!
Both them and me. Cæsar. Your obedient, humble servant. Arnold. To-morrow sounds the assault Arnold. Say Master rather. Thou hast With the first cock-crow. lured me on,
Cæsar. Which, if it end with Through scenes of blood and lust, till 1 The evening's first nightingale, will be am here.
Something new in the annals of great sieges: Cæsar. And where would'st thou be ? For men must have their prey after long toil. Arnold.. Oh, at peace-in peace!
Arnold. The Sun goes down as calmly, Cæsar. And where is that which is so? and perhaps From the star
More beautifully, than he did on Rome To the winding worm, all life is motion ; On the day Remus leapt her wall. and
Cæsar. I saw him. In life commotion is the extremest point Arnold. You ! Of life. The planet wheels till it becomes Cæsar. Yes, Sir. You forget I am or was A comet, and destroying as it sweeps Spirit, till I took up with your cast shape The stars, goes out. The poor worm winds And a worse name. I'm Cæsar and a hunch
back Living upon the death of other things, Now. Well! the first of Cæsars was a baldBut still, like them, must live and die, head, the subject
And loved his laurels better as a wig Of something which has made it live and die. (So history says) than as glory. Thus You must obey what all obey, the rule The world runs on, but we'll be merry still.
I saw your Romulus (simple as I ain)
Song of the Soldiers within.
The Black Bands came over
The Alps and their snow,
With Bourbon, the rover,
They past the broad Po.
We have beaten all foemen,
We have captured a king,
We have turned back on no men,
And so let us sing!
Here's the Bourbon for ever!
Though penniless all,
We'll have one more endeavour
At yonder old wall.
With the Bourbon we'll gather
At day-dawn before
The gates, and together
Or break or climb o'er
The wall: on the ladder
As mounts each firm foot,
Our shout shall grow gladder,
And death only be mute.
With the Bourbon we'll mount o'er
The walls of old Rome,
And who then shall count o'er
The spoils of each dome?
Up! up! with the lily!
And down with the keys!
In old Rome, the Seven-hilly,
We'll revel at ease.
Her streets shall be gory,
Her Tiber all red,
And her temples so hoary
Shall clang with our tread.
Oh, the Bourbon ! the Bourbon !
The Bourbon for aye !
Of our song bear the burthen!
And fire, fire away!
With Spain for the vanguard,
Our varied host comes ?
And next to the Spaniard
Beat Germany's drums ;
And Italy's lances
Are couched at their mother;
But our leader from France is,
Who warred with his brother.
Oh, the Bourbon! the Bourbon!
Sans country or home,
We'll follow the Bourbon,
To plunder old Rome.
Cæsar. An indifferent song
Arnold. Yes, if they keep to their chorus.
But here comes
The General with his chiefs and men of trust.
Enter the Constable BOURBON, cum suis.
Philibert. How now, noble Priace,
Bourbon. Why should I be so ?
Bourbon. If I were secure!
Phil Doubt not our soldiers Were the Bourbon. Ah! walls of adamant,
Welcomc the bitter Hunchback! and his They'd crack them. Hunger is a sharp Master, artillery.
The beauty of our host, and brave as beauBourbon. That they will falter is my teous, least of fears.
And generous as lovely. We shall find That they will be repulsed, with Bourbon for Work for you both ere morning. Their chief, and all their kindled appetites Cæsar. You will find, Tomarshal themon-were those hoary walls So please your Highness, no less for yourself. Mountains, and those who guard them like Bourbon. And if I do, there will not be the Gods
a labourer Of the old fables, I would trust my Titans ;– More forward, Hunchback! But now
Cæsar. You may well say so, Phil. They are but men who war with For you have seen that back-as general, mortals.
Placed in the rear in action - but your foes Bourbon. True: but those walls have Have never seen it. girded in great ages,
Bourbon. That's a fair retort, And sent forth mighty spirits. The past earth For I provoked it:- but the Boarbon's breast And present Phantom of imperious Rome Has been, and ever shall be, far advanced Is peopled with those warriors; and methinks In danger's face as yours, were you the Devil. They flit along the eternal city's rampart, Cæsar. And if I were, I might have saved And stretch their glorious, gory, shadowy myself hands,
The toil of coming hera And beckon me away!
Why so ? Phil. So let them! Wilt thon
Cæsar. One half Turn back from shadowy menaces of sha-Of your brave bands of their own bold accord dows?
Will go to him, the other half be sent, Bourbon. They do not menace me. 1 More swiftly, not less surely. could have faced,
Bourbon. Arnold, your Methinks, a Sylla's menace; but they clasp Slight crooked friend's as smake-like in his And raise, and wring their dim and death
words like hands,
As his deeds. And with their thin aspen faces and fixed eyes Cæsar. Your Highness much mistake me. Fascinate mine. Look there!
The first snake was a flatterer-I am none; Phil. I look upon
And for my deeds, I only sting when stung. A lofty battlement.
Bourbon. You are brave, and that's Bourbon. And there!
enough for me; and quick Phil. Not even
In speech as sharp in action - and that's more. A guard in sight; they wisely keep below, am not alone a soldier, but the soldiers' Sheltered by the grey parapet, from some Comrade. Stray bullet of our lansquenets, who might Casar. They are but bad company, Practise in the cool twilight
your Highness; Bourbon. You are blind.
And worse even for their friends than foes, Phil. If seeing nothing more than may as being be seen
More permanent acquaintance.
Phil. How now, fellow ! Bourbon. A thousand years have manned Thou waxest insolent, beyond the privilege the walls
Of a buffoon. With all their heroes,- the last Cato stands Cæsar. You mean, I speak the truth. And tears his bowels, rather than survive I'll lie-it is as easy: then you'll praise me The liberty of that I would enslave. For calling you a hero. And the first Cæsar with his triumphs flits Bourbon. Philibert! From battlement to battlement.
Let him alone; he's brave, and ever has Phil. Then conquer
Been first with that swart face and mounThe walls for which he conquered, and be tain-shoulder greater!
In field or storm, and patient in starvation; Bourbon. True: so I will, or perish. And for his tongue, the camp is full of Phil. You can not.
licence, In such an enterprise to die is rather And the sharp stinging of a lively rogue The dawn of an eternal day, than death. Is, to my mind, far preferable to
The gross, dull, heavy, gloomy execration Count ARNOLD and CÆSAR advance.
Of a merc famished,sullen,grumbling slave, Cæsar. And the mere men-do they too Whom nothing can convince save a full meal, sweat beneath
And wine, and sleep, and a few maravedis, The noon of this same ever-scorching glory? / With which he deems him rich.