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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 At.

. 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
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 ?

I yet
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,

Cæs. 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 Ces. How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, me- 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. In the shoulder, not the sword arm (The Lutheran Soldier rushes forward: a shot And that's enough. I ain 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 Allar. Cas. That's a liquid now

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

Luth. Sold. And will you not avenge me? To come 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. Idying.)


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 hiin 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
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

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

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

(The Guards defend themselves desperately, while Cæs.

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 fiendi

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. The me for't
scene closes,

In part. I would not have his bulls abolish'd

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'Twere worth one half our empire: his indulgences Sold. The cross, beneath which he is crusad; le 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,

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 thinnd The very Lutherans have more truc 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. Ces. 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. (opposing the former. You lie, I Arn. Then learn to grant it. Have I taught you track'd her first : and were she

Led you o'er Rome's eternal battlenients? (reho 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 heat of conquestsettle

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. 30 Sold. Alive or dead!

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

(no further need your God!

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

Yes, when he shines in gola. 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 thcir arms and departing. I 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, hol All's clarkness! (He dies. Death hath a thousand gates; and on the marble, Other Soldiers (coming upl. 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 iny 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, drn. What do I see? Accursed jackals !

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

(She raises her eyes to heaven, fold's her make Cas. (aside and laughing. | Ha! ha! here's equity!! round her, and prepares to dash herself domen The dogs

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

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


Hold : hold! Arn.

With what weapon? I swear

0.7 . Spare thine already forfeit soul

And do not know it. She will cumle 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 Arn.

We will Of these men, though--

Convey her unto the Colonna palace, Olimp.

i julge thee by th; mates? Where I have pitch'd my banner. It is for God to judge thee as thou art.


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

Arn, 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 mc God's,

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


Nay, never 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 hier but live! The saints have sanctified!


The spirit of lier life (Olimpia waves her hand to Arnold with disdain, | Is yet within her breast, and may revive. and dashes herself on the pavement from the Count ! count ! I ain your servant in all things, Allar.

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

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 rit152 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.
Oh! she is lifeless!

Arn. Thou !


Cas. 1! 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; Art.


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 Ces.

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 rubl at least to mortals. Arn. 'Tis mix'd with blood.


Prithee, peace! Cas.

There is no cleaner 110w Softiy! methinks her lips move, her eyes open! In Rome.

Cæs. Like stars, no doubt ; for that's a metaphor Arn. 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


On! I know Penthesilea: with his form it seems

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


Now onward, onward! Gently! Aru. She breathes ! But no, 'twas nothing, or the

(Exeunt, bearing Olimpia. The scene closes. Faint flutter life disputes with death.


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

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

sants singing before the gates. Aru. (without atiending to him.) Yes! her lieart!

Alas! that the first beat of the only heart beats.
I ever wish'd to beat with mine should vibrate
To an assassin's pulse.

The wars are over,
Asage reflection.

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

The bride and her lover I say she lives.


Have sought their home : Arn. And will she live?

They are happy, we rejoice; Cas.

Let their hearts have an echo in every voice!

As much
As dust can.
Then she is dead !

The spring is conne; tire violet's gone,
Bah! balı! You are so

The first-born chill of the early sin:



With us she is but a winter's flower,

On the wrist of the noble The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower,

· She sits like a crest, And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue

And the air is in trouble
To the youngest sky of the self-same hue

With birds froin their nest.

Cæs. Oh! shadow of glory!
And when the spring comes with her host

Dim image of war ! of flowers, that flower beloved the most

But the chase hath no story, Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse

Her hero no star,
Her heavenly odour and virgin hues.

Since Nimrod, the founder

Of empire and chase,
Pluck the others, but still remember

Who made the woods wonder Their herald out of dim December-

And quake for their race. The morning star of all the flowers,

When the lion was young, The pledge of daylight's lengthen'd hours,

In the pride of his might, Nor, midst the roses, e'er forget

Then 'twas sport for the strong
The virgin, virgin violet.

To embrace him in fight;
Enter Cæsar.

To go forth, with a pine
Cas. (singing.) The wars are all over,

For å spear, 'gainst the Mammoth,
Our swords are all idle,

Or strike through the ravine
The steed bites the bridle.

At the foaming Behemoth;
The casque's on the wall.

While man was in stature
There's rest for the rover;

As towers in our time,
But his armour is rusty,

The first-born of Nature,
And the veteran grows crusty,

And, like her, sublime ?
As he yawns in the hall.

He drinks--but what's drinking ?

But the wars are over,
A inere pause from thinking!

The spring is come;
No bugle awakes him with life-and-death call.

The bride and her lover

Have sought their home;
But the hound bayeth loudly,

They are happy, and we rejoice;
The boar's in the wood,

Let their hearts have an echo from every voice!
And the falcon longs proudly

(Exeunt the Peasamry, singing To spring from her hood:



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

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.

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

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 stall,

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 a lapted to my rhymes.

Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,

And still should be so, but the tide is turn'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'd: Besides, the prince is all for the land service, Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

v Brave men were living before Agamemnon,

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

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 piunge uit medias res

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

What went before-by way of episode, While seated after dinner at his ease,

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,

Fainous for oranges and women : le
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 naine 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 inounted, c'er got down again,
Than Jose, who begot our hero, who
Begot--but that's to come-Well, to renew ,

His mother was a .earned lady, famed

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

With virtues equalld 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 wings 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

R 2

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

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