Let him alone; he's brave, and ever has Been first, with that swart face and mountain shoulder, In field or storm, and patient in starvation; Cas. Bourb There's a demon In that fierce rattlesnake, thy tongue. Wilt never Be serious? Cas. On the eve of battle, no; That were not soldier-like. 'Tis for the general Is yours, as in the field. Bourb. [self. Prince my service In both we prize it, And yours will be a post of trust at daybreak. Cæs. And mine? Bourb. It would be well Good night! Bourb. The world's Great capital perchance is ours to-morrow. Through every change the seven-hill'd city hath Retain'd her sway o'er nations, and the Cæsars But yielded to the Alarics, the Alarics Unto the pontiffs. Roman, Goth, or priest, Still the world's masters! Civilized, barbarian, Or saintly, still the walls of Romulus Have been the circus of an empire. Well! 'Twas their turn-now 'tis ours; and let us hope That we will fight as well. and rule much better. Cas. No doubt, the camp's the school of civic What would you make of Rome ? Bourb. Cas. In Alaric's time? Bourb. [rights. That which it was. No, slave in the first Cæsar's, Whose name you bear like other curs. Cas. 'Tis a great name for bloodhounds. And kings! To follow glory with the Bourbon. Arn. [to Cæsar.] Prepare our armour for the And wait within my tent. [assault, [Exeunt Bourbon, Arnold, Philibert, &c. Within thy tent! Cas. [solus.] Think'st thou that I pass from thee with any pre sence? Or that this crooked coffer, which contain'd Except a mask? And these are men, forsooth! This is the consequence of giving matter The power of thought. It is a stubborn substance, And thinks chaotically, as it acts, Ever relapsing into its first elements. Well! I must play with these poor puppets: 'tis When I grow weary of it, I have business Amongst the stars, which these poor creatures deem PART II. SCENE I.-Before the walls of Rome; the Assault: the Army in motion, with ladders to scale the walls; Bourbon, with a white scarf over his armour, foremost. Chorus of Spirits in the air. I. 'Tis the morn, but dim and dark, Whither flies the silent lark? Whither shrinks the clouded sun? Is the day indeed begun! Nature's eye is melancholy II. Hearken to the steady stamp! As the tides obey the moon! On they march, though to self-slaughter, Whose high waves o'ersweep the border Look down o'er each frowning warrior, III. Look upon the bristling wall, Awful as thy brother's crime ! Christians war against Christ's shrine :Must its lot be like to thine? IV. Near-and near-and nearer still, Then with stronger shock and louder, V. Onward sweep the varied nations! Famine long hath dealt their rations. Scipio, the second Africanus, is said to have repeated a verse of Homer, and wept o'er the burning of Carthage. He had better have granted it a capi tulation. To the wall, with hate and hunger, Fight, like your first sire, cach Roman! Match'd with Bourbon's black banditti! Rouse thee! Rather give the torch Than behold such hosts pollute VI. Ah! behold yon bleeding spectre! See the giant shadow stride VII. Now they reach thee in their anger: VIII. 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: 'Twas the Roman curb'd the Roman; Brennus was a baffled foeman. Yet again, ye saints and martyrs, Rise! for yours are holier charters! Mightier founders of those altars, True and Christian,-strike the assaulters! Tyber! Tyber ! let thy torrent Show even nature's self abhorrent Arnold, shouldst thou see France-But hark! hark! the assault grows warmer-Oh! For but an hour, a minute more of life, To die within the wall! Hence, Arnold, hence ! Arn. But I must not leave thee thus. The Bourbon! Bourbon! On, boys! Rome is ours! Cas. I cannot find my hero; he is mix'd Enter a Party fighting; Arnold at the head of the Arn. Away! they must not rally. Cæs. I tell thee, be not rash; a golden bridge Is for a flying enemy. I gave thee A form of beauty, and an Exemption from some maladies of body, Destroy proud Anti-Christ. I am a Christian. Cas. Yes, 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 recognise you for his own. Luth. Sold. Why would you save him! I repeat The devil, or the devil's vicar upon earth. [he is Cas. And that's the reason: would you make a quarrel With your best friends? You had far best be quiet; His hour is not yet come. Luth. Sold. That shall be seen! [The Lutheran Soldier rushes forward: a shot strikes him from one of the Pope's Guards, and he falls at the foot of the Allar. Cas. [to the Lutheran.] I told you so. [The Guards defend themselves desperately, while the Pontiff escapes, by a private passage, to the Vatican and the Castle of St. Angelo. Cas. 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. Follow ! He hath escaped! [sage up, Another Sold. They have barr'd the narrow pasAnd it is clogg'd with dead even to the door. Cæs. I am glad he hath escaped: he may thank me for't In part. I would not have his bulls abolish'd— 'Twere worth one half our empire: his indulgences [To the Spanish Soldiery, Well, cut-throats! What do you pause for? If you make not haste, Soldiers. Cas. Cas. So another! Olimp. [embracing a massive crucifix.] Respect your God! 3d Sold. 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. 3d Sold. Oh, great God! Olimp. Ah! now you recognise him. 3d Sold. My brain is 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 And thy Son's Mother, now receive me as [Son, I would approach thee, worthy her, and him, and thee ! Sold. The cross, beneath which he is crush'd; Le. hold him Lie there, more like a worm than man; she cast it Upon his head. Arn. Even so; there is a woman A Sold. [murmuring.] Arn. [cuts him down.] The lion Mutineer! [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. Soldiers. [deposing their arms and departing.】 We obey! I should be so Arn. [to Olimpia.] Lady, you are safe. Olimp. 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,— No injury !—and make my father's house A den of thieves!—No injury !—this templeSlippery with Roman and holy gore! No injury! And thou wouldst preserve me, To 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. Arn. With what weapon? I swear Hold! hold! |