Arnold. Away! they must not rally. Cæsar. I tell thee, be not rash; a golden bridge Is for a flying enemy. I gave thee Exemption from some maladies of body, And know thyself a mortal still. Arnold. And who With aught of soul would combat if he were Invulnerable? That were pretty sport. Thinkst thou I beat for hares when lions roar? [Arnold rushes into the combat. Cæsar. A precious sample of humanity! Well, his blood's up, and if a little's shed, Twill serve to curb his fever. [Arnold engages with a Roman, who retires towards a portico. Arnold. Yield thee, slave! I promise quarter. Roman. That's soon said. My word is known. Roman. So shall be my deeds. [They re-engage. Cæsar comes forward. Cæsar. Why, Arnold! Hold thine own; thou hast in hand A famous artizan, a cunning sculptor; Arnold. Aye, did he so? May live to carve your betters. Cæsar. Well said, my man of marble! Thou hast some practice in both ways; and he Who slays Cellini, will have work'd as hard As e'er thou didst 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. Cæsar. How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, methinks, Of red Bellona's banquet. Arnold (staggers). Tis a scratch. Lend me thy scarf. He shall not 'scape me thus. Cæsar. Where is it? Arnold. In the shoulder,not the sword-arm, And that's enough. I am thirsty: would I had A helm of water! Casar. That's a liquid now In requisition, but by no means easiest To come at. My feebleness of arm that reach'd him not, And ashes! [The Guards defend themselves desperately, while the Pontiff escapes, by a private passage, to the Vatican and the Castle of St. Angelo. Cæsar. Ha! right nobly battled! Now, Priest! now, Soldier! the two great professions, Together by the ears and hearts! I have not Seen a more comic pantomime since Titus Took Jewry. But the Romans had the best then; Now they must take their turn. Soldiers. He hath escaped! Follow ! Another Soldier. They have barred the narrow passage up, And it is clogged with dead even to the door. Cæsar. I am glad he hath escaped: he may thank me for't In part. I would not have his Bulls abolished 'Twere worth one half our empire: his Indulgences Demand some in return;-no, no, he must not Fall;-and besides, his now escape may furnish A future miracle, in future proof What do you pause for? If you make not haste, There will not be a link of pious gold left. And you too, Catholics! Would ye return From such a pilgrimage without a relic? The very Lutherans have more true devotion: See how they strip the shrines! Soldiers. By holy Peter! Cæsar. And that were shame! Go to! Assist in their conversion. [The Soldiers disperse; many quit the Church, others enter. Cæsar. They are gone, And others come: so flows the wave on wave Of what these creatures call eternity, Deeming themselves the breakers of the ocean, While they are but its bubbles, ignorant That foam is their foundation. So, another! Enter Olimpia, flying from the pursuit-She springs upon the altar. Soldier. She's mine. Another Soldier (opposing the former). Your claims; I'll make mine good. You touch me not alive. Third Soldier. Alive or dead! Third Soldier. Yes, when he shines in gold. Girl, you but grasp your dowry. [As he advances, Olimpia, with a strong and sudden effort, casts down the crucifix; it strikes the Soldier, who falls. Third Soldier. Oh, great God! Olimpia. Ah! now you recognize him. Third Soldier. My brain's crushed! Comrades, help ho! All's darkness! [He dies. Other Soldiers (coming up). Slay her, although she had a thousand lives: She hath killed our comrade. Olimpia. 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. Arnold. What do I see? Accursed Jackalls! Forbear! Cæsar (aside, and laughing). Ha! ha! here's equity! The dogs Have as much right as he. But to the issue! Soldiers. Count, she hath slain our comrade. Arnold. With what weapon? Soldier. The cross, beneath which he is crushed; behold him Lie there, more like a worm than man; she cast it He speaks the truth; the heretics will bear Upon his head. The best away. Arnold. Even so; there is a woman For your existence. Had you touched a hair Of those dishevelled locks, I would have thinned Your ranks more than the enemy. Away! Ye Jackalls! gnaw the bones the lion leaves, But not even these till he permits. A Soldier (murmuring). The Lion Might conquer for himself then. Arnold (cuts him down). Mutineer! Rebel in Hell-you shall obey on earth! [The Soldiers assault Arnold. 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 as shy to scale. 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! Arnold. 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. Arnold. Get you hence! Hence to your quarters! you will find them fixed In the Colonna-palace. Olimpia (aside). In my father's house! Arnold (to the Soldiers). Leave your arms; ye have no further need : Of such the City's rendered. And mark well You keep your hands clean, or I'll find out a stream, As red as Tiber now runs, for your baptism. Soldiers (deposing their arms and departing). We obey! Arnold (to Olimpia). Lady! you are safe. Olimpia. 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! Arnold. I wish to merit his forgiveness, and Thine own, although I have not injured thee. Olimpia. No! Thou hast only sacked my native land,— No injury!-and made my father's house A den of thieves-No injury !—this templeSlippery with Roman and holy gore. injury! And now thou wouldst preserve me, be-but that shall never be! [She raises her eyes to Heaven, folds her robe round her, and prepares to dash herself down on the side of the Altar opposite to that where Arnold stands. Arnold. Hold! hold! I swear. Olimpia. Spare thine already forfeit seul A perjury for which even Hell would loathe thee. I know thee. Arnold. No,thou know'st me not; I am not Of these men, though— Olimpia. 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, 'tis all thou e'er shalt have of me! And here, upon the marble of this temple, Where the baptismal font baptised me God's, I offer him a blood less holy But not less pure (pure as it left me then, A redeemed infant) than the holy water The Saints have sanctified! [Olimpia waves her hand to Arnold with disdain, and dashes herself on the pavement from the Altar. Arnold. Eternal God! I feel thee now! Help! Help! She's gone. Casar (approaches). I am here. Arnold. Thou! but oh, save her! Cæsar (assisting him to raise Olimpia). She hath done it well; The leap was serious. Arnold. Oh! she is lifeless! She be so, I have nought to do with that: Alive or dead, thou essence of all beauty, I love but thee! Casar. Even so Achilles loved Faint flutter life disputes with death. Arnold. Thou sayst it? Then 'tis truth. The Devil speaks truth much oftener than he's deemed: He hath an ignorant audience. Arnold (without attending to him). Yes! her heart beats. Alas! that the first beat of the only heart I ever wish'd to beat with mine, should vibrate To an assassin's pulse. Cæsar. A sage reflexion, Arnold. Now onward, onward! Gently! [Exeunt, bearing Olimpia.-The Scene closes. ACT IIL But somewhat late i' the day. Where shall SCENE 1.—A Castle in the Apennincs, sur we bear her! I say she lives. Caesar. 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. Arnold. We will Convey her unto the Colonna-palaco, Cæsar. Come then! raise her up. Casar. As softly as they bear the dead, Cæsar. The spirit of her life Is yet within her breast, and may revive. And this is a new office:-'tis not oft Now I desert not mine. Soft! bear her hence, Cæsar. I. But fear not. I'll not be Arnold. Rival! Cæsar. I could be one right formidable; But since I slew the seven husbands of Tobia's future bride (and after all Twas sucked out by some incense) I have laid rounded by a wild but smiling country. Chorus of Peasants singing before the Gates. Chorus. The wars are over, The spring is come; Have sought their home: They are happy, we rejoice; Let their hearts have an echo in every voice! The spring is come; the violet's gone, And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue And when the spring comes with her host Pluck the others, but still remember Enter CESAR. Cæsar (singing). The wars are all over, Our swords are all idle, The steed bites the bridle, The casque's on the wall. There's rest for the rover; But his armour is rusty, And the veteran grows crusty, As he yawns in the hall. Aside intrigue: 'tis rarely worth the trouble He drinks-but what's drinking? Of gaining, or-what is more difficult A mere pause from thinking! Getting rid of your prize again; for there's No bugle awakes him with life-and-death The rub! at least to mortals. Cæsar. Like stars, no doubt; for that's a metaphor For Lucifer and Venus. call. Chorus. But the hound bayeth loudly, The boar 's in the wood, And the falcon longs proudly To spring from her hood: On the wrist of the noble She sits like a crest, And the air is in trouble With birds from their nest. And eagle-spirit of a Child of song- Works through the throbbing eyeball to the brain With a hot sense of heaviness and pain, And bare, at once, Captivity display'd Stands scoffing through the never-open'd gate, Which nothing through its bars admits, save day And tasteless food, which I have eat alone wear, But must be borne. I stoop not to despair; limb. That through this sufferance I might be forgiven, I have employ'd my penance to record How Salem's shrine was won, and how adored. But this is o'er my pleasint task is done. My long-sustaining friend of many years! If I do blot thy final page with tears, Know that my sorrows have wrung from me none. But thou,my young creation! my soul's child! Which ever playing round me came and smiled, And woo'd me from myself with thy sweet sight, Thou too art gone-and so is my delight: Oh Leonora! wilt not thou reply? But let them go, or torture as they will, Above me, hark! the long and maniac cry Of minds and bodies in captivity. |