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The helmless dromedary!-and 17 bear
Rise to your dutyThe fiendish sarcasm with a saintly patience.
This is the hour! Stran, I will.
Walk lovely and pliant
From the depth of this fountain,
As the cloud-shapen giant
Bestrides the Hariz Mountain.
Come as ye were,
That our eyes may behold To talk to thee in human language (for (thinks.
The model in air Thou canst not yet speak mine), the forester
Of the form I will mould, Hunts not the wretched coney, but the boar,
Bright as the Iris Or wolf, or lion, leaving paltry game
When ether is spann'd; To petty burghers, who leave once a year
Such his desire is, (Pointing to Arnold. Their walls, to fill their household cauldrons with
Such my command ! Such scullion prey. The meanest gibe at thee,
Demons who wore
The form of the stoic
Or sophist of yoreStran.
Or the shape of each victor, Are not far from me. Do not send me back:
From Macedon's boy, I'm not so easily recall d to do
To each high Roman's picture,
Who breathed to destroy-
Shadows of beauty!
Shadows of power! Shapes with you. if you will, since yours so irks you;
Up to your dutyOr form you to your wish in any shape.
This is the hour ! Arn. Oh! then you are indeed the demon, for
(Various phantoms arise from the waters, and Nought else would wittingly wear mine.
pass in succession before the Stranger and Stran.
I'll show thee
The black-eyed Roman, with Arni. On what condition ?
The eagle's beak between those eyes which ne'er Stran.
There's a question! Beheld a conqueror, or look'd along An hour ago you would have given your soul
The land he made not Rome's, while Rome became To look like other men, and now you pause
His, and all those who heir'd his very name. To wear the form of heroes.
Arn. The phantom's bald; my quest is beauty. dru.
No; I will not.
Inherit but his fame with his defects ! [Could I I must not compromise my soul.
Stran. His brow was girt with laurels more than Stran.
You see his aspect-choose it, or reject. (hairs. Worth naming so, would dwell in such a carcass? I can but promise you his form ; his fame
Arn. 'Tis an aspiring one, whate'er the tenement Must be long sought and fought for. In which it is mislodg'd. But name your compact:
I will fight too, Must it be sign'd in blood ?
But not as a mock Cæsar. Let him pass; Stran.
Not in your own. His aspect may be fair, but suits me not. Arn. Whose blood then?
Stran. Then you are far more difficult to please Stran.
We will talk of that hereafter. Than Cato's sister, or than Brutus's inother,
Or Cleopatra at sixteen-an age
[The phantom of Julius Caesar disappears. Arn. I take thee at thy word.
And can it Stran. Now then!
Be, that the man who shook the earth is gone, | The Stranger approaches the fountain, and And left no footstep? turns to Arnold.
There you err. His substance A little of your blood.
Left graves enough, and woes enough, and fame Arn.
For what? More than enough to track his memory;
Except a little longer and less crook'd
(A second phantom passes. (The Stranger takes some of Arnold's blood in his hand, and casts it into the fountain.
* This is a well known German superstitionShadows of beauty!
gigantic shadow produced by reflection on the Shadows of power!
Who his he?
If there be atoms of him left, or even Strant. He was the fairest and the bravest of Of the more solid gold that form d his urn. Athenians. Look upon him well,
Arn. Who was this glory of mankind ?
The shame More lovely than the last. How beautiful!
Of Greece in peace, her thunderbolt in war-
Taker of cities.
Yet one shadow more.
Stran. (addressing the shadow.] Get thee to
[The shade of Demetrius Poliorcetes vanishes: [The shade of Alcibiades disappears.
another rises. Stron. Lo! behold again!
I'll fit you still, Am. What! that low, swarthy, short-nosed, Fear not, my hunchback : if the shadows of round-eyed satyr,
That which existed please not your nice taste,
I'll animate the ideal marble, till
Arn. Content! I will fix here,
I must commend The carth's perfection of all mental beauty,
Your choice. The god-like son of the sea-goddess, Anil personification of all virtue.
The unshorn boy of Peleus, with his locks But you reject him?
As beautiful and clear as the amber waves Arn.
If his form could bring me Of rich Pactolus, roll'd o'er sands of gold,
Soften'd by intervening crystal, and
Rippled like flowing waters by the wind,
And him-as he stood by Polixena,
With sanction'd and with soften'd love, before
With some remorse within for Hector slain
Be air, thou hemlock-drinker! And Priam weeping, mingled with deep passion [The shadow of Socrates disappears: another rises. For the sweet downcast virgin, whose young hand! Arn. What's here? whose broad brow and whose Trembled in his who slew her brother. So curly beard
He stood i' the temple! Look upon him as And manly aspect look like Hercules,
Greece look'd her last upon her best, the instant Save that his jocund eye hath more of Bacchus Ere Paris' arrow flew. Than the sad purger of the infernal world,
I gaze upon him Leaning dejected on his club of conquest,
As if I were his soul, whose form shall soon As if he knew the worthlessness of those
Envelope mine. For whom he had fought.
Stran.. You have done well. The greatest Stran.
It was the man who lost Deformity should only barter with The ancient world for love.
The extremest beauty, if the proverb's true Arn.
I cannot blame him, Of mortals, that extremes meet. Since I have risk'd iny soul because I find not
Come! Be quick! That which he exchanged the earth for.
I am impatient. Stran.
Since so far Stran.
As a youthful beauty
Arn. No. As you leave me choice, I am difficult, But dream it is what must be.
Must I wait ? Have seen else on this side of the dim shore
Stran. No; that were a pity. But a word or two: Whence they fioat back before us.
His stature is twelve cubits; would you so far Stran.
Hence, triumvir, Outstep these times, and be a Titan? Or Thy Cleopatra's waiting.
(To talk canonically) wax a son [The shade of Antony disappears: another rises. Of Anak? Arn. Who is this?
Arn. Why not? Who truly looketh like a demigod,
Glorious ambition !
Philistine stature would have gladly pared
His own Goliath down to a slight David : Which he wears as the sun his rays-a something But thou, my manikin, wouldst soar a show Which shines from hiin, and yet is but the flashing Rather than hero. Thou shalt be indulged, Emanation of a thing more glorious still.
If such be thy desire; and yet, by being Was he e'er human only ?
A little less removed from present men Stran.
Let the earth speak, In figure, thou canst sway them more; for all
Would rise against thee now, as if to hunt
A choice of forms, I take the one I view.
And what shall I wear Through our friend's armour there, with greater ease Arn.
Surely, he Than the adulterer's arrow through his heel
Who can command all forms will choose the highWhich Thetis had forgotten to baptize
est, In Styx.
Something superior even to that which was Arn. Then let it be as thou deein'st best. Pelides now before us. Perhaps his
Strin. Thou shalt be beauteous as the thing thou Who slew him, that of Paris : or-still higherAnd strong as what it was, and
(seest, The poet's god, clothed in such limbs as are Arn.
I ask not
Themselves a poetry. For valour, since deformity is daring.
Less will content me; It is its essence to o'ertake mankind
For I, too, love a change. By heart and soul, and make itself the equal
Your aspect Ay, the superior of the rest. There is
Dusky, but not uncomely. A spur in its halt movements, to become
If I chose, All that the others cannot, in such things
I might be whiter; but I have a penchant As still are free to both, to compensate
For black-it is so honest, and besides For stepdame Nature's avarice at first.
Can neither blush with shame nor pale with fear They woo with fearless deeds the smiles of fortune, But I have worn it long enough of late, And oft, like Timour the lame Tartar, win them. And now I'll take your figure. Stran. Well spoken! and thou doubtless wilt re- dr.
Mine ! main
Yes. You Form'd as thou art. I may dismiss the mould Shall change with Thetis' son, and I with Bertha, Of shadow, which must turn to flesh, to incase Your mother's offspring. People have their tastes: This daring soul, which could achieve no less You have yours- I mine. Without it.
Despatch ! Despatch! Arn. Had no power presented me
Even so. The possibility of change, I would
[The Stranger takes some earth and moulds it Have done the best which spirit may to make
along the turf, and then addresses the Its way with all deformity's dull, deadly
phantom of Achilles. Discouraging weight upon me, like a mountain,
Beautiful shadow In feeling, on my heart as on my shoulders
Of Thetis's boy! A hateful and unsightly molehill, to
Who sleeps in the meadow The eyes of happier men. I would have look'd
Whose grass grows o'er Troy: On beauty in that sex which is the type
From the red earth, like Adam, Of all we know or dream of beautiful
Thy likeness I shape, Beyond the world they brighten, with a sigh
As the being who made him, Not of love, but despair; nor sought to win,
Whose actions I ape. Though to a heart all love, what could not love me
Thou clay, be all glowing, In turn, because of this vile crooked clog,
Till the rose in his cheek Which makes me lonely. Nay, I could have borne
Be as fair as, when blowing, It all, had not my mother spurn'd me from her
It wears its first streak! The she-bear licks her cubs into a sort
Ye violets, I scatter, Of shape ;-my dam beheld my shape was hopeless.
Now turn into eyes! Had she exposed me, like the Spartan, ere
And thou, sunshiny water, I knew the passionate part of life, I had
Of blood take the guise ! Been a clod of the valley, -happier nothing
Let these hyacinth boughs Than what I am. But even thus, the lowest,
Be his long flowing hair, Ugliest, and ineanest of mankind, what courage
And wave o'er his brows And perseverance could have done, perchance
As thou wavest in air ! Had made me something-as it has made heroes
Let his heart be this marble Of the same mould as mine. You lately saw me
I tear from the rock ! Master of my own life, and quick to quit it;
But his voice as the warble And he who is so is the master of
Of birds on yon oak !
Let his flesh be the purest
of mould, in which grew What you have been, or will be.
The lily-root surest,
And drank the best dew!
Let his limbs be the lightest
Which clay can compound,
. Adam means 'red earth,' from which the firs Would be loved. As thou showest me
Iman was formed.
And luis aspect the brightest
An immortal no less
Deigns not to refuse thee.
Clay thou art; and unto spirit
All clay is of equal merit.
Fire! without which nought can live ;
Fire! but in which nought can live,
Save the falled salamander,
Or immortal souls which wander,
Praying what doth not forgive,
Howling for a drop of water, [Arnold falls senseless; his soul passes into the
Burning in a quenchless lot shape of Achilles, which rises from the
Fire! the only element ground; while the phantom has disap.
Where nor fish, beast, bird, nor worm, peared, part by part, as the figure was
Save the worm which dieth not, formed from the earth.
Can preserve a moment's form, Arn. (in his new form.j I love, and I shall be
But must with thyself be blent: beloved! Oh, life!
Fire I man's safeguard and his slaughter: At last I feel thce! Glorious spirit !
Fire! Creation's first-born daughter, Stran,
And Destruction's threaten'd son, What shall become of your abandon'd garment,
When heaven with the world hath dore: Yon hump, and lump, and clod of ugliness,
Fire! assist me to renew
Life in what lies in my view
Stiff and cold !
His resurrection rests with me and you ! Stran.
One little, marshy spark of flameThey do, and are not scared by it, you'll say
And he again shall seem the same; It must be peace-time, and no better fare
But I his spirit's place shall hold! Abroad i' the fields.
(An ignis fatuus flits through the wood, and Arn. Let us but leave it there;
rests on the brow of the body. The Stranger No matter what becomes on't.
disappears : he body rises. Stran.
Arn. [in his new form.) Oh! horrible ! If not ungrateful. Whatsoe'er it be,
Stran. (in Arnold's late shape.) What! trem. It hath sustain'd your soul full many a day.
blest thou? Arn. Ay, as the dunghill may conceal a gem
Not so Which is now set in gold, as jewels should be.
I merely shudder. Where is fed the shape Stran. But if I give another form, it must be
Thou lately worest ? By fair exchange, not robbery. For they
To the world of shadows. Who inake men without women's aid have long
But let us thread the present. Whither wilt thou ?
Arn. Must thou be my companion ?
Wherefore not! Not make them,-though he reap the benefit
Your betters keep worse company.
Arn. Of the original workmanship :-and therefore
My betters! Some one must be found to assume the shape
Stran. Oh! you wax proud, I see, of your new You have quitted.
form: Aru. Who would do so:
I'm glad of that. Ungrateful too! That's well; Stran.
That I know not,
You improve apace;-two changes in an instant, And herefore I must.
And you are old in the world's ways already.
But bear with me: indeed you'll find ine useful Stran.
I said it ere
Upon your pilgrimage. But come, pronounce You inhabited your present dome of beauty.
Where shall we now be errant? Arn. True. I forget all things in the new joy
Where the world of this immortal change.
Is thickest, that I may behold it in
Stran. That's to say, where there is war Yourself for ever by you, as your shadow
And woman in activity. Let's see! Arn. I would be spared this
Spain-Italy--the new Atlantic worldStrin.
But it cannot be. Afric, with all its Moors. In very truth, What! shrink already, being what you are,
There is small choice: the whole race are just how From seeing what you were ?
Tugging as usual at each o:her's hearts. Arn.
Do as tliou wilt.
Arn. I have heard great things of Rome. Stran. (to the late form of Arnold, extended on Stran.
A goodly choicethe carth.)
And scarce a better to be found on earth,
Since Sodom was put out. The field is wide too;
l'or now the Frank, and Hun, and Spanish scion
of thc old Vandals, are at play along
On the hill he will not tire, The sunny shores of the world's garden.
Swifter as it waxes higher ; Arn.
In the marsh he will not slacken, Shal' we proceed!
On the plain be overtaken ;
Like gallants, on good coursers. In the wave he will not sink,
In the race he will not pant,
In the combat he'll not faint;
On the stones he will not stumble,
Time nor toil shall make him humble;
In the stall he will not stiffen, A nobler breed. Match me in Barbary,
But be winged as a griffin, Or your Kochlini race of Araby.
Only flying with his feet; With these !
And will not such a voyage be sweet! Arn. The mighty steam, which volumes high
Merrily ! merrily! never unsound, Iground! From their proud nostrils, burns the very air;
Shall our bonny black horses skim over the And sparks of flame, like dancing fire-flies, wheel
From the Alps to the Caucasus, ride we, or fly! Around their manes, as common insects swarm
For we'll leave them behind in the glance of an eye. Round common steeds towards sunset.
(They mount their horses, and disappear, Stran.
Mount, my lord:
SCENE II.- A Camp before the walls of Rome. They and I are your servitors. Arn. And these
Arnold and Cæsar Our dark-eyed pages-what may be their names? Cæs. You are well enter'd now, Stran. You shall baptize them.
Ay; but my path Arn.
What! in holy water? Has been o'er carcases; mine eyes are full Stran. Why not? The deeper sinner, better saint,
Of blood. Arn. They are beautiful, and cannot, sure, te
Then wipe them, and see clearly. Why! demons.
Thou art a conqueror; the chosen knight Stran. True; the devil's always ugly ; and your And free companion of the gallant Bourbon, Is never diabolical.
(beauty Late constable of France: and now to be
Lord of the city which hath been earth's lord
Not sceptre, an hermaphrodite of empire-
Lady of the old world. Aud never found till now. And for the other
How old ? What! are there And darker, and more thoughtful, who smiles not, New worlds ? But looks as serious though serene as night,
Cas. To yon. You'll find there are such shortly. He shall be Memnon, from the Ethiop king
By its rich harvests, new disease, and gold; Whose statue turns a harper once a day.
From one-half of the world named a whole new one, And you !
Because you know no better than the dull Stran. I have ten thousand names, and twice And dubious notice of your eyes and ears. As many attributes: but as I wear
Arn. I'll trust them. A human shape, will take a human name.
Cas. Do! They will deceive you sweetly, Arn. More human than the shape (though it was And that is better than the bitter truth. I trust.
[mine once) Arn. Dog! Stran. Then call me Cæsar.
Your obedient humble servant, By the world's lords.
Arn. Say master rather. Thou hast lured me on, Stran.
And therefore fittest for Through scenes of blood and lust, till I am here. The devil in disguise-since so deem me,
Cæs. And where wouldst thou be? Unless you call me pope instead.
Oh, at peace-in peace. Arn.
Cas. And where is that which is so? From the star Caesar thou shalt be. For myself, my name
To the winding worm, all life is motion; and
In life commotion is the extrémest point
Of life. The planet wheels till it becomes
The stars, goes out. The poor worm winds its way, Arn. Or in an order for a battle-field.
Living upon the death of other things, Cas. (sings.] To horse! to horse ! my coal-black But still, like them, must live and die, the subject steed
Of something which has made it live and lie.
You must obey what all obey, the rule
Of fix'd necessity: against her edict
Rebellion prospers not.