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I yet


Yield thee, slave! SCENE III.- St. Peter's. The Interior of the I promise quarter.

Church; the Pope at the Altar; Priests, &c., Rom, That's soon said.

crowding in confusion, and Citizens flying for Arn.

And done

refuge, pursued by Soldiery My word is known.

Enter Cæsar.
So shall be my deeds.

A Spanish Soldier. Down with them, comrades ! (They re-engage. Cæsar comes forward,

seize upon those lamps ! Cas. Why, Arnold I hold thine own: thou hast in Cleave yon bald-pated shaveling to the chine! A famous artisan, a cunning sculptor; (hand His rosary's of gold ! Also a dealer in the sword and dagger,

Lutheran Soldier. Revenge! revenge! Not so, my musqueteer; 'twas he who slew

Plunder hereafter, but for vengeance nowThe Bourbon from the wall.

Yonder stands Anti-Christ! Aru.

Ay, did he so

Cas. (interposing ] How now, schismatic? Then he hath carved his monument.

What wouldst thou ? Rom.

Luth. Sold.

In the holy name of Christ, May live to carve your better's.

Destroy proud Anti-Christ. I am a Christiar. Cæs. Well said, my man of inarble ! Benvenuto, Cas. Yes, a disciple that would make the founder Thou hast some practice in both ways; and he Of your belief renounce it, could he see Who slays Cellini will have work'd as hard

Such proselytes. Best stint thyself to plunder. As e'er thou didst upon Carrara's blocks.

Luth. Sold. I say he is the devil (Arnold disarms and wounds Cellini, but slightly; Cas.

Hush! keep that secret, the latter draws a pistol, and fires; then Lest he should recognise you for his own.

retires, and disappears through the portico. Luth. Sold. Why would you save him! I repeat Cas. How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, nie- The devil, or the devil's vicar upon earth.

(he is thinks,

Cæs. And that's the reason : would you make a Of red Bellona's banquet.

quarrel Arn. (staggers. ] 'Tis a scratch.

With your best friends ? You had far best be quiet ; Lend me thy scarf. He shall not 'scape me thus.

His bour is not yet come. Cæs. Where is it?

Luth. Sold.

That shall be seen! Arn. Infchc shoulder, not the sword arm- [The Lutheran Soldier rushes forward: a shot And that's enough. I am thirsty: would I had

strikes him from one of the Pope's Guards, A helm of water !

and he falls at the foot of the Altar. Cas. That's a liquid now

Cas. (to the Lutheran.) I told you so. In requisition, but by no means easiest

Luth. Sold.

And will you not avenge me? To comie at.

Cæs. Not I! You know that. Vengeance is the Arn. And my thirst increases ;-but

I'll find a way to quench it.

You see he loves no interlopers.
Or be quench'd
Luth. Sold. dying.)


Had I but slain him, I had gone on high, Arn.

The chance is even ; we will throw Crown'd with eternal glory! Heaven, forgive The dice thereon. But I lose time in prating ;

My feebleness of arm that reach'd himn not, Prithee be quick (Cæsar binds on the scarf.

And take thy servant to thy mercy. 'Tis And what dost thou so idly? A glorious triumph still; proud Babylon's Why dost not strike?

No more; the Harlot of the Seven Hills Cas

Your old philosophers Hath changed her scarlet raiment for sackcloth Beheld mankind, as mere spectators of

And ashes!

(The Lutheran dies. The Olympic games. When I behold a prize

Cæs. Yes, thine own amidst the rest. Worth wrestling for, I may be found a Milo.

Well done, old Babel! Arn. Ay, 'gainst an oak.

[The Guards defend themselves desperately, while Cas.

A forest, when it suits me: the Pontiff escapes, by a private passage, to I combat with a mass, or not at all.

the Vatican and the Castle of St. Angelo. Meantime, pursue thy sport as I do mine;


Ha! right nobly battled ! Which is just now to gaze, since all these labourers Now, priest I now, soldier! the two great professions, Will reap my harvest gratis.

Together by the ears and hearts! I have not Arn.

Thou art still

Seen a more comic pantomime since Titus A fiends

Took Jewry. But the Romans had the best then; Cas. And thou-a man.

Now they must take their turn. Arn. Why, such I fain would show me.


He hath escaped ! Cas.

True-as men are.
Follow !

(sage up, Arn. And what is that?

Another Sold. They have barr'd the narrow pasCas.

Thou feelest and thou see'st. And it is clogg'd with dead even to the door. [Exit Arnold, joining in the combat, which still Cæs. I am glad he hath escaped: he may thank continues between detached parties.


me for't scene closes,

In part. I would not have his bulls abolishid

'Twere worth one halt our empire: his indulgences Sold. The cross, beneath which he is crush'd ; la Demand some in return,-no, no, he must not

hold him Fall;-and, besides, his now escape may furnish Lie there, more like a worm than man; she cast it A future miracle, in future proof

Upon his head.
Of his infallibility. [To the Spanish Soldiery, Arn.

Even so; there is a woman
Well, cut-throats!

Worthy a brave man's liking. Were ye such, What do you pause for? If you make not haste, Ye would have honour'd her. But get ye hence, There will not be a link of pious gold left.

And thank your meanness, other God you have none And you, too, catholics! Would ye return

For your existence. Had you touch'd a hair From such a pilgrimage without a relic?

Of those dishevell'd locks, I would have thinn'd The very Lutherans have more true devotion : Your ranks more than the enemy. Away! See how they strip the shrines !

Ye jackals / gnaw the bones the lion leaves, Soldiers.

By holy Peter! But not even these till he permits. He speaks the truth; the heretics will bear

A Sold. (murmuring.)

The lion The best away.

Might conquer for himself then. Cas.

And that were shame! Go to! Arn. (cuts him down.) Mutineer! Assist in their conversion. (The Soldiers disperse ; Rebel in hell-you shall obey on earth! inary quit the Church, others enter.

(The Soldiers assault Arnold. Cas. They are gone,

Arn. Come on! I'm glad on't! I will show you And others come: so flows the wave on wave

slaves, Of what these creatures call eternity,

How you should be commanded, and who led you Deeming themselves the breakers of the ocean, First o'er the wall you were so shy to scale, While they are but its bubbles, ignorant

Until I waved my banners from its height, That foam is their foundation. So another!

As you are bold within it. Enter Olimpia, flying from the pursuit-She springs (Arnold more's down the foremost; the rest upon the Altar.

throw dorun their arms, Sold. She's mine!


Mercy! mercy: Another Sold. fopposing the former. You lie, I Aru. Then learn to grant it. Have I taught you track'd her first : and were she

Led you o'er Rome's eternal battlenients ? (Tcho The Pope's niece. I'll not yield her. (They fight. Soldiers, We saw it, and we know it; ye: forgive 3d Sold. (advancing towards Olimpia.] You may .A moment's error in the lieat of conquest settle

The conquest which you led to Your claims; I'll make mine good.


Get you hence! Olimp.

Infernal slave! Hence to your quarters! you will find them fixed You touch me not alive.

In the Colonna palace. 3d Sold. Alive or dead!

Olimp. (aside.) In iny father's Olimp. [embracing a massive crucifix.] Respect House !

(no further need

Arn. [to the soldiers.] Leave your arms; ye lave 3d Sold.

Yes, when he shines in gold. Of such ; the city's render'd. And mark well Girl, you but grasp your dowry.

You keep your hands clean, or I'll find out a stream [As he advances, Olimpia, with a strong and As red as Tiber now runs, for your baptism.

sudden cffort, casts down the crucifix; it Soldiers. (deposing their arms and departing.) strikes the Soldier, who falls.

We obey ! 3d Sold.

Oh, great God ! Arn. [to Olimpia.] Lady, you are safe. Olimp. Ah! now you recognise him.


I should be so 3d Sold.

My brain is crush'd! Had I a knife even; but it matters notComrades, help, ho! All's darkness! (He dies. Death hath a thousand gates; and on the marble, Other Soldiers (coming up!. Slay her, although Even at the altar foot, whence I look down she had a thousand lives :

Upon destruction, shall my head be dash'd, She hath kill'd our comrade.

Ere thou ascend it. God forgive thee, man! Olimp.

Welcome such a death! Arn. I wish to merit His forgiveness, and
You have no life to give, which the worst slave Thinc own, although I have not injured thee.
Would take. Great God! through thy redeeming Olimp. No! Thou hast only sack'd my natire land, -
And thy Son's Mother, now receive me as (Son, No injury!-and make my father's house
I would approach thee, worthy her, and him, and A den of thieves -No injury!-this temple-

Slippery with Roman and holy gore !
Enter Arnold.

No injury! And thou wouldst preserve me,
Arn. What do I see? Accursed jackals !

To be--but that shall never be ! Forbear!

[She raises her eyes to heaven, folds her make Cæs. (aside and laughing. | Ha! ha! here's equity! round her, and prepares to dash herself doar The dogs

on the side of the Altar opposite to that where Have as much right as he. But to the issue !

Arnold stands. Soldiers. Count, she hath slain our comrade.


Hold : hold ! Arn.

With wliat weapon? I swear

your God!

Oiini. Spare thine already forfeit soul

And do not know it. She will come to lifeA perjury for which even hell would loathe thee. Such as you think so, such as you now are : I know thee.

But we must work by huinan means. Arn. No, thou know'st me not; I am not


We will Of these men, though--

Convey her unto the Colonna palace, Olimp.

I judge thee by tis; inates? Where I have pitch'd my banner. It is for God to judge thee as thou art.


Comc then! raise her up! I see thee purple with the blood of Rome;

Arul, Softly! Take inine, 'tis all thou e'er shalt lave of me,


As softly as they bear the dead, And here, upon the marble of this temple,

Perhaps because they cannot feel the jolting. Where the baptismal font baptised inc God's,

Arn. But doth she live indeed? I offer him a blood less holy


Nay, nerer fear! But not less pure (pure as it left me then,

But, if you rue it after, blaine not ine. A redeem'd infant) than the holy water

Arn. Let her but live! The saints have sanctified!


The spirit of lier life [Olimpia waves her hand to Arnold with disdain, Is yet within lier breast, and may revive.

and dashes herself on the pavement from the Count ! count! I ain your servant in all things, Altar,

And this is a new office:-'tis not oft Aru.

Eternal God :

I am enploy'd in such; but you perceive I feel thee now! Help! help! She's gone.

How stanch a friend is what you call a fiend. Cæs. (approaches.]

I am here. On earth you have often only fiends for friends; Arn. Thou! but oh, save her!

Now I desert not mine. Soft! bear her hence, Cæs. (assisting him to rise Olimpia.) She hath The beautiful half-clay, and nearly spirit ! done it well!

I am almost enamour'd of her, as
The leap was serious.

Of old the angels of her earliest sex.
Oli! she is lifeless!

Arn. Tlou !


Cas. I! But fear not. I'll not be your rival. She be so, I have nought to do with that:

Arn. Rival! The resurrection is beyond me.


I could be one right formidable; Arn.


But since I slew the seven husbands of Cas. Ay, slave or master, 'tis all one: methinks Tobias' future bride (and after all Good words, however, are as well at times.

Was suck'd out by some incense), I have laid Arn. Words! canst thou aid her?

Aside intriguc: 'tis rarely worth the trouble Cæs.

I will try. A sprinkling Orgaining, or--what is more difficult-Of that same holy water may be useful.

Getting rid of your prize again; for there's [He brings some in his helmet from the font. The rub! at least to mortals. Arn. "Tis mix'd with blood.


Prithee, peace! Cas.

There is no cleaner 10w Softly! methinks her lips move, her eyes open! In Rome.

Cæs. Like stars, no doubt ; for that's a metaphor Aru. How pale ! how beautiful! how lifeless ! For Lucifer and Venus. Alive or dead, thou essence of all beauty,


To the palace
I love but thee!

Colonna, as I told you !
Even so Achilles loved

Oh! I know
Penthesilea: with his form it seems

My way through Rome. You have his heart, and yet it was no sort one.


Now onward, onward! Gently! Aru. She breathes ! But no, 'twas nothing, or the (Exeunt, bearing Olimpia. The scene cioses. Faint flutter life disputes with death.

[last Cas.

She breathes. Arn, Thou say'st it? Then 'tis truth.


You do me right-SCENEI.- A Castle in the Apennines, surrounded The devilspeaks truth much oftener than he's cleemid: by a wild but smiling Country. Chorus Pea. He hath an ignorant audience.

sants singing lefore the gates. Arn. (without atiending to him.) Yes! hier lieart

Alas! that the first beat of the only heart [bcats.
I ever wish'd to beat with mine should vibrato


The wars are over,
To an assassin's pulse.
sage reflection.

The spring is come;
But somewhat late i' the day. Where shall we bear

The bride and her lover I say she lives.


Have sought their home :
And will she live?

They are happy, we rejoice;

Let their liearts have an echo in every voice!

As much
As dust can.
Then she is dead !

The spring is come; the violet's gone,
Bah! balı! You are so The first-born chill of the early sin :



On the wrist of the noble

She sits like a crest, And the air is in trouble

With birds froin their nest.

With us she is but a winter's flower,
The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower,
And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue
To the youngest sky of the self-same hue

And when the spring comes with her host
of flowers, that flower beloved the most
Shrinks from the crowd that inay confuse
Her heavenly odour and virgin hues.

Pluck the others, but still remember
Their herald out of dim December-
The morning star of all the flowers,
The pledge of daylight's lengthen'd hours,
Nor, midst the roses, e'er forget
The virgin, virgin violet.

Enter Cæsar.
Cas. (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.

He drinks--but what's drinking ?

A mere pause from thinking!
No bugle awakes him with life-and-death call.

But the hound bayeth loudly,

The boar's in the wood,
And the falcon longs proudly

To spring from her hood;

Cas. Oh! shadow of glory!

Dim iinage of war !
But the chase hath no story,

Her hero no star,
Since Nimrod, the founder

Of empire and chase,
Who made the woods wonder

And quake for their race.
When the lion was young,

In the pride of his might,
Then 'twas sport for the strong

To embrace him in fight;
To go forth, with a pine

For a spear, 'gainst the Mammoth,
Or strike through the ravine

At the foaming Behemoth ;
While man was in stature

As towers in our time,
The first-born of Nature,

And, like her, sublime ?

But the wars are over,

The spring is come ;
The bride and her lover

Have sought their home;
They are happy, and we rejoice;
Let their hearts have an echo from every voice!

(Exeunt the Peasamry, singing 1819.


1. I WANT a hero: an uncoinmon want, When every year and inonth sends forth a new

one, Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,

The age discovers he is not the true one ;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,

I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan:
We all have seen him in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his tine.

11. Vernon, the Butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke, Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel,

Ilowe, Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk, And fill'd their sign-posts then, like Wellesley

now : Each in their turn, like Banquo's monarchs stalk,

Followers of fame . nine farrow' of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,

Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know;

And there were others, scarce forgotten yet, Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Dessaix,

With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,

And still should be so, but the tide is turu'd:
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,

'Tis with our hero quietly in::rndl; Because the army's grown more popular,

At which the naval people are concern'il:
Besides, the prince is all for the land service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

Brave inen were living before Agamemnon, *

And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same

none But then they shone not on the poet's page, And so have been forgotten. I condemn none,

But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for iny new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

Most cpic poems plunge in medias res

(Horace makes this the heroic turnpike road), And then your hero tells, whene'er you please,

What went beforc-by way of episode, While seated after dinner at his case,

Beside his mistress in some soft abode.
Palace, or garden, paradise, or cavern,
Which serves the happy couple for a tavern.

That is the usual method, but not mine-

My way is to begin with the beginning;
The regularity of my design

Forbids all wandering as the worst of sinning, And therefore I shall open with a line

(Although it cost me half an liour in spinning)
Narrating somewhat of Don Juan's father,
And also of his mother, if you'd rather.

In Seville was he born, a pleasant city,

Famous for oranges and women: he
Who has not seen it will be much to pity,

So says the proverb-and I quite agree;
Of all the Spanish towns is none more pretty,

Cadiz, perhaps-but that you soon may see.
Don Juan's parents lived beside the river,
A noble stream, and call'd the Guadalquivir,

His father's name was Jose-Don, of course,

A true Hidalgo, free from every stain
Of Moor or Hebrew blood, he traced his source

Through the most Gothic gentlemen of Spain ; A better cavalier ne'er mounted horse,

Or, being mounted, c'er got down again,
Than Jose, wiro begot our hero, who
Begot--but that's to conie-Well, to renew g

His mother was a learned lady, fames

For every branch of every science known
In every Christian language ever named,

With virtues equall'd by her wit alonc.
She made the cleverest people quite ashamed;

And even the good with inward envy groan,
Finding themselves so very much exceeded
In their own way, by all the 'ings that she did.

Her memory was a mine ; she knew by heart

All Calderon and greater part of Lope,
So that if any actor miss'd his part,
She could have served him for the prompter's
сору ;

R 2

* Vixere fortes ante Agamemnona,' etc.-HORACE.

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