2.

Hearken to the steady stamp !
Mars is in their every tramp!
Not a step is out of tune,
As the tides obey the moon!

On they march, though to self-slaughter,
Regular as rolling water,
Whose high waves o'ersweep the border
Of huge moles, but keep their order,
Breaking only rank by rank.
Hearken to the armour's clank!
Look down o'er each frowning warrior,
How he glares upon the barrier:
Look on each step of each ladder,
As the stripes that streak an adder.

3.

Look upon the bristling wall,
Mann'd without an interval !
Round and round, and tier on tier,
Cannon's black mouth, shining spear,
Lit match, bell-mouth'd musquetoon,
Gaping to be murderous soon;
All the warlike gear of old,
Mix'd with what we now behold,
In this strife 'twixt old and new,
Gather like a locusts' crew,
Shade of Remus! 'tis a time
Awful as thy brother's crime !
Christians war against Christ's shrine:
Must its lot be like to thine ?

Will you sleep when nations' quarrels
Plough the root up of your laurels ?
Ye who weep o'er Carthage burning,
Weep not-strike! for Rome is mourning!

5.

Onward sweep the varied nations!
Famine long hath dealt their rations.
To the wall, with hate and hunger,
Numerous as wolves, and stronger,
On they sweep. Oh! glorious city,
Must thou be a theme for pity?
Fight, like your first sire, each Roman!
Alaric was a gentle foeman,

Match'd with Bourbon's black banditti !
Rouse thee, thou eternal city;
Rouse thee! Rather give the torch
With thy own hand to thy porch,
Than behold such hosts pollute
Your worst dwelling with their foot.

6.

Ah! behold yon bleeding spectre !
Ilion's children find no Hector;
Priam's offspring loved their brother;
Rome's great sire forgot his mother,
When he slew his gallant twin,
With inexpiable sin.

See the giant shadow stride
O'er the ramparts high and wide!
When the first o'erleapt thy wall,
Its foundation mourn'd thy fall.
Now, though towering like a Babel,
Who to stop his steps are able?
Stalking o'er thy highest dome,
Remus claims his vengeance, Rome!

7.

Now they reach thee in their anger:
Fire and smoke and hellish clangour
Are around thee, thou world's wonder!
Death is in thy walls and under.
Now the meeting steel first clashes,
Downward then the ladder crashes,
With its iron load all gleaming,
Lying at its foot blaspheming !
Up again! for every warrior
Slain, another climbs the barrier.
Thicker grows the strife: thy ditches
Europe's mingling gore enriches.
Rome! although thy wall may perish,
Such manure thy fields will cherish,
Making gay the harvest-home;
But thy hearths, alas! oh, Rome!-
Yet be Rome amidst thine anguish,
Fight as thou wast wont to vanquish !

8.

Yet once more, ye old Penates!

Let not your quench'd hearths be Até's!
Yet again, ye shadowy heroes,
Yield not to these stranger Neros!

Though the son who slew his mother
Shed Rome's blood, he was your brother:

Scipio, the second Africanus, is said to have repeated a verse of Homer, and wept over the burning of Carthage. He had better have granted it a capitulation.

For but an hour, a minute more of life

To die within the wall! Hence, Arnold, hence! You lose time- they will conquer Rome without thee.

Arn. And without thee!
Bourb.

Not so; I'll lead them still
In spirit. Cover up my dust, and breathe not
That I have ceased to breathe. Away! and be
Victorious!

Arn.

2

But I must not leave thee thus. Bourb. You must-farewell-Up! up! the world is winning. [BOURBON dies. Cas. (to ARNOLD). Come, count, to business. Arn. True. I'll weep hereafter. [ARNOLD Covers BOURBON's body with a mantle, and mounts the ladder, crying

The Bourbon! Bourbon! On, boys! Rome is ours! Cas. Good night, lord constable! thou wert a man. [CESAR follows ARNOLD; they reach the battlement; ARNOLD and CÆSAR are down.

struck

Ces. A precious somerset !

injured?

Is your countship

Arn. No.

[Remounts the ladder. Cas. A rare blood-hound, when his own is heated! And 't is no boy's play. Now he strikes them down! His hand is on the battlement he grasps it As though it were an altar; now his foot What have we here?-a Roman? Is on it, and [A man falls. The first bird of the covey! he has fallen On the outside of the nest. Why, how now, fellow ? Wounded Man. A drop of water! Cas. Nearer than Tiber.

Blood's the only liquid

Wounded Man. I have died for Rome.

[Dics.

Cas. And so did Bourbon, in another sense. Oh these immortal men! and their great motives! But I must after my young charge. He is By this time i' the forum.

Charge! charge!

[CESAR mounts the ladder; the scene closes.

SCENE II.

The City. Combats between the Besiegers and Besieged in the streets. Inhabitants flying in confusion.

Enter CESAR.

Cars. I cannot find my hero; he is mix'd With the heroic crowd that now pursue The fugitives, or battle with the desperate. What have we here? A cardinal or two That do not seem in love with martyrdom. How the old red-shanks scamper! Could they doff Their hose as they have doff'd their hats, 't would be A blessing, as a inark the less for plunder. But let them fly; the crimson kennels now Will not much stain their stockings, since the mire Is of the self-same purple hue.

the attack. Bourbon wore a white vest over his armour, in order, he said, to be more conspicuous both to his friends and foes. He led on to the walls, and commenced a furious assault, which was repelled with equal violence. Seeing that his army began to waver, he seized a scaling ladder from a soldier standing, and was in the act of ascending, when he was pierced by a musket-ball, and fell. Feeling that his wound was mortal, he desired that his body might be concealed from his soldiers, and instantly expired." ROBERTSON.]

Enter a Party fighting — ARNOLD at the head of the Besiegers.

He comes, Hand in hand with the mild twins- Gore and Glory. Holla! hold, count!

Arn.

Away! they must not rally.
not rash; a golden bridge
I gave thee

Cas. I tell thee, be
Is for a flying enemy.
A form of beauty, and an
Exemption from some maladies of body,
But not of mind, which is not mine to give.
But though I gave the form of Thetis' son,
I dipt thee not in Styx; and 'gainst a foe
I would not warrant thy chivalric heart
More than Pelides' heel; why then, be cautious,
And know thyself a mortal still.

Arn.

And who With aught of soul would combat if he were Invulnerable? That were pretty sport. Think'st thou I beat for hares when lions roar? [ARNOLD rushes into the combat. Cas. A precious sample of humanity! Well, his blood's up: and if a little 's shed, "T will serve to curb his fever.

[ARNOLD engages with a Roman, who retires towards a portico.

Yield thec, slave!

Arn.

I promise quarter.
Rom.
Arn.

My word is known. Rom.

That 's soon said.

And done

So shall be my deeds. [They re-engage. CESAR comes forward. Cas. Why, Arnold! hold thine own: thou hast in hand

A famous artisan, a cunning sculptor;
Also a dealer in the sword and dagger.

Not so, my musqueteer; 'twas he who slew

The Bourbon from the wall.

Arn. Ay, did he so ? Then he hath carved his monument.

I yet

Rom.

May live to carve your betters'.

Cas. Well said, my man of marble! Benvenuto, Thou hast some practice in both ways; and he Who slays Cellini will have work'd as hard As e'er thou did'st upon Carrara's blocks. !

[ARNOLD disarms and wounds CELLINI, but

slightly; the latter draws a pistol, and fires; then retires, and disappears through the portico.

Cas. How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, methinks,

Of red Bellona's banquet.

Arn. (staggers).

'T is a scratch.

He shall not 'scape me thus.

Lend me thy scarf.

Cas. Where is it? Arn. In the shoulder, not the sword armAnd that's enough. I am thirsty: would I had A helm of water!

[ Levelling my arquebuse," says Benvenuto Cellini, “I discharged it with a deliberate aim at a person who seemed to be lifted above the rest: but the mist prevented me from distinguishing whether he was on horseback or on foot. Then turning suddenly about to Alessandro and Cecchino, I bid them fire off their pieces, and showed them how to escape every shot of the besiegers. Having accordingly fired twice for the enemy's once, I cautiously approached the wails, and

Enter CESAR.

A Spanish Soldier. Down with them, comrades! seize upon those lamps !

Cleave yon bald-pated shaveling to the chine!
His rosary's of gold.

Lutheran Soldier. Revenge! revenge!
Plunder hereafter, but for vengeance now—
Yonder stands Anti-Christ!

How now, schismatic?

Cas. (interposing). What would'st thou ?

Luth. Sold. In the holy name of Christ, Destroy proud Anti-Christ. I am a Christian. Cas. Yea, a disciple that would make the founder Of your belief renounce it, could he see Such proselytes. Best stint thyself to plunder.

Luth. Sold. I say he is the devil. Cas. Hush! keep that secret, Lest he should recognize you for his own.

Luth. Sold. Why would you save him? I repeat he is The devil, or the devil's vicar upon earth.

Cas. And that's the reason: would you make a quarrel

perceived that there was an extraordinary confusion among the assailants, occasioned by our having shot the Duke of Bourbon he was, as I understood afterwards, that chief personage whom I saw raised above the rest."-- Vol. i. p. 120. This, however, is one of the many stories in Cellini's amusing autobiography which nobody seems ever to have believed.]

Cas. (to the Lutheran). I told you so. Luth. Sold. And will you not avenge me? Cas. Not I! You know that "Vengeance is the You see he loves no interlopers. [Lord's: "

Luth. Sold. (dying).

Oh!

Had I but slain him, I had gone on high,
Crown'd with cternal glory! Heaven, forgive
My feebleness of arm that reach'd him not,
And take thy servant to thy mercy. "T is
A glorious triumph still; proud Babylon's
No more; the Harlot of the Seven Hills
Hath changed her scarlet raiment for sackcloth
And ashes!
[The Lutheran dies.
Cas.
Yes, thine own amidst the rest.
Well done, old Babel!
[The Guards defend themselves desperately,
while the Pontiff escapes, by a private pas-
sage, to the Vatican and the Castle of St.
Angelo. 1

3d Sold. Oh, great God ! Olimp. Ah! now you recognize him. 3d Sold. My brain's crush'd! Comrades, help, ho! All's darkness! [He dies. Other Soldiers (coming up). Slay her, although she had a thousand lives: She hath kill'd our comrade.

Olimp.

Welcome such a death! You have no life to give, which the worst slave Would take. Great God! through thy redeeming Son, And thy Son's Mother, now receive me as

I would approach thee, worthy her, and him, and thee!

Enter ARNOLD. Accursed jackals!

Arn. What do I see? Forbear!

Cæs. (aside and laughing). Ha! ha! here's equity!
The dogs

Have as much right as he.
Soldiers. Count, she hath
Arn.

Sold. The cross, beneath
behold him
Lie there, more like a worm than man; she cast it
Upon his head.

But to the issue! slain our comrade.

With what weapon? which he is crush'd;

Were ye such,

Arn. Even so; there is a woman Worthy a brave man's liking. Ye would have honour'd her. And thank your meanness, other God you have none For your existence. Had you touch'd a hair

But get ye hence,

Of those dishevell'd locks, I would have thinn'd
Your ranks more than the enemy: Away!
Ye jackals! gnaw the bones the lion leaves,
But not even these till he permits.
A Sold. (murmuring).
Might conquer for himself then.
Arn. (cuts him down).
Mutineer!
Rebel in hell-you shall obey on carth!
[The Soldiers assault ARNOLD.
Arn. Come on! I'm glad on't! I will show you,
slaves,

How you should be commanded, and who led you
First o'er the wall you were so shy to scale,

The lion

of Rome. For this picture of horrors, see especially the "Sackage of Rome," by Jacopo Buonaparte, "gentiluomo Sainminiatese, che vi se trovò presente," and "Life of Cellini," vol. i. p. 124.]

Until I waved my banners from its height,
As you are bold within it.

[ARNOLD mows down the foremost; the rest throw down their arms. Soldiers. Mercy! mercy! Arn. Then learn to grant it. Have I taught you who Led you o'er Rome's eternal battlements?

Soldiers. We saw it, and we know it; yet forgive A moment's error in the heat of conquestThe conquest which you led to.

Arn. Get you hence ! Hence to your quarters! you will find them fix'd In the Colonna palace. Olimp. (aside). House !

In my father's

[no further need Arn. (to the soldiers). Leave your arms; ye have Of such the city's render'd. And mark well You keep your hands clean, or I'll find out a stream As red as Tiber now runs, for your baptism. [obey! Soldiers (deposing their arms and departing). We Arn. (to OLIMPIA). Lady, you are safe.

Olimp. I should be so, Had I a knife even; but it matters notDeath hath a thousand gates; and on the marble, Even at the altar foot, whence I look down Upon destruction, shall my head be dash'd, Ere thou ascend it. God forgive thee, man!

Arn. I wish to merit his forgiveness, and Thine own, although I have not injured thee.

Olimp. No! Thou hast only sack'd my native land,

Olimp. Spare thine already forfeit soul
A perjury for which even hell would loathe thee.

I know thee.

Arn. No, thou know'st me not; I am not Of these men, though

Olimp.
I judge thee by thy mates;
It is for God to judge thee as thou art.

I see thee purple with the blood of Rome;
Take mine, 't is all thou e'er shalt have of me,
And here, upon the marble of this temple,
Where the baptismal font baptized me God's,
I offer him a blood less holy

Arn.

Slave!

Cas. Ay, slave or master, 't is all one: methinks Good words, however, are as well at times. Arn. Words! - Canst thou aid her? Cæs. I will try.

A sprinkling

Of that same holy water may be useful.

There is no cleaner now

[He brings some in his helmet from the font. Arn. 'Tis mix'd with blood. Cæs. In Rome. Arn. How pale! how beautiful! how lifeless! Alive or dead, thou essence of all beauty, I love but thee!

Cas.
Even so Achilles loved
Penthesilea: with his form it seems

You have his heart, and yet it was no soft one.
Arn. She breathes! But no, 't was nothing or the last
Faint flutter life disputes with death.

Cas.

She breathes. Arn. Thou say'st it? Then 'tis truth. Cas. You do me rightThe devil speaks truth much oftener than he's deem'd: He hath an ignorant audience. [beats.

Arn. (without attending to him). Yes! her heart Alas! that the first beat of the only heart

I ever wish'd to beat with mine should vibrate
To an assassin's pulse.

Cæs.
A sage reflection,
[her?
But somewhat late i' the day. Where shall we bear
I say she lives.

Arn.

And will she live?

Then she is dead!

Cas. As dust can. Arn. Cæs. Bah! bah! You are so, And do not know it. She will come to lifeSuch as you think so, such as you now are; But we must work by human means. Arn.

We will

As much