Hence to your
quarters!
Byron
60
Meantime, pursue thy sport as I do mine;
Which is just now to gaze, since all these labourers
Will reap my harvest gratis.
_Arn. _ Thou art still
A fiend!
_Caes. _ And thou--a man.
_Arn. _ Why, such I fain would show me. [dr]
_Caes. _ True--as men are.
_Arn. _ And what is that?
_Caes. _ Thou feelest and thou see'st.
[_Exit_ ARNOLD, _joining in the combat which still
continues between detached parties. The
scene closes_.
SCENE III. --_St. Peter's--The interior of the Church--The
Pope at the Altar--Priests, etc. , crowding in confusion,
and Citizens flying for refuge, pursued by Soldiery_.
_Enter_ CAESAR.
_A Spanish Soldier_. Down with them, comrades, seize upon those lamps!
Cleave yon bald-pated shaveling to the chine!
His rosary's of gold!
_Lutheran Soldier_. Revenge! revenge!
Plunder hereafter, but for vengeance now--
Yonder stands Anti-Christ!
_Caes. _ (_interposing_). How now, schismatic?
What wouldst thou?
_Luth. Sold. _ In the holy name of Christ,
Destroy proud Anti-Christ. [247] I am a Christian.
_Caes. _ Yea, a disciple that would make the founder
Of your belief renounce it, could he see
Such proselytes. Best stint thyself to plunder. 10
_Luth. Sold. _ I say he is the Devil.
_Caes. _ Hush! keep that secret,[ds]
Lest he should recognise you for his own.
_Luth. Sold. _ Why would you save him? I repeat he is
The Devil, or the Devil's vicar upon earth.
_Caes. _ 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 Altar_.
_Caes. _ (_to the Lutheran_). I told you so.
_Luth. Sold. _ And will you not avenge me?
_Caes. _ Not I! You know that "Vengeance is the Lord's:"
You see he loves no interlopers.
_Luth. Sold. _ (_dying_). Oh! 20
Had I but slain him, I had gone on high,
Crowned with eternal glory! Heaven, forgive
My feebleness of arm that reached him not,
And take thy servant to thy mercy. 'Tis
A glorious triumph still; proud Babylon's
No more; the Harlot of the Seven Hills
Hath changed her scarlet raiment for sackcloth
And ashes! [_The Lutheran dies_.
_Caes. _ Yes, thine own amidst the rest.
Well done, old Babel!
[_The Guards defend themselves desperately, while the
Pontiff escapes, by a private passage, to the
Vatican and the Castle of St. Angelo_. [248]
_Caes. _ Ha! right nobly battled!
Now, priest! now, soldier! the two great professions, 30
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 Sold. _ They have barred the narrow passage up,
And it is clogged with dead even to the door.
_Caes. _ 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 40
Fall;--and besides, his now escape may furnish
A future miracle, in future proof
Of his infallibility. [_To the Spanish Soldiery_.
Well, cut-throats!
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!
He speaks the truth; the heretics will bear 50
The best away.
_Caes. _ And that were shame! Go to!
Assist in their conversion.
[_The Soldiers disperse; many quit the Church, others enter_.
_Caes. _ 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_.
_Sold. _ She's mine!
_Another Sold. _ (_opposing the former_).
You lie, I tracked her first: and were she
The Pope's niece, I'll not yield her. [_They fight_.
_3d Sold. _ (_advancing towards_ OLIMPIA). You may settle
Your claims; I'll make mine good.
_Olimp. _ Infernal slave! 60
You touch me not alive.
_3d Sold. _ Alive or dead!
_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'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.
_Olimp. _ 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 70
I would approach thee, worthy her, and him, and thee!
_Enter_ ARNOLD.
_Arn. _ What do I see? Accursed jackals! Forbear!
_Caes. _ (_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.
_Arn. _ With what weapon?
_Sold. _ The cross, beneath which he is crushed; behold him
Lie there, more like a worm than man; she cast it
Upon his head.
_Arn. _ Even so: there is a woman
Worthy a brave man's liking. Were ye such,
Ye would have honoured her. But get ye hence, 80
And thank your meanness, other God you have none,
For your existence. Had you touched a hair
Of those dishevelled locks, I would have thinned
Your ranks more than the enemy. Away!
Ye jackals! gnaw the bones the lion leaves,
But not even these till he permits.
_A Sold. _ (_murmuring_). The lion
Might conquer for himself then.
_Arn. _ (_cuts him down_). Mutineer!
Rebel in hell--you shall obey on earth!
[_The Soldiers assault_ ARNOLD.
_Arn. _ Come on! I'm glad on't! I will show you, slaves,
How you should be commanded, and who led you 90
First o'er the wall you were so 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!
_Arn. _ 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 conquest--
The conquest which you led to.
_Arn. _ Get you hence!
Hence to your quarters! you will find them fixed
In the Colonna palace.
_Olimp. _ (_aside_). In my father's 100
House!
_Arn. _ (_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!
_Arn. _ (_to_ OLIMPIA). Lady, you are safe.
_Olimp. _ I should be so,
Had I a knife even; but it matters not--
Death hath a thousand gates; and on the marble,
Even at the altar foot, whence I look down
Upon destruction, shall my head be dashed,
Ere thou ascend it. God forgive thee, man! 110
_Arn. _ I wish to merit his forgiveness, and
Thine own, although I have not injured thee.
_Olimp. _ No! Thou hast only sacked my native land,--
No injury! --and made my father's house
A den of thieves! No injury! --this temple--
Slippery with Roman and with holy gore!
No injury! And now 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. _ Hold! hold!
I swear.
_Olimp. _ Spare thine already forfeit soul
A perjury for which even Hell would loathe thee. 120
I know thee.
_Arn. _ No, thou know'st me not; I am not
Of these men, though----
_Olimp. _ 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 baptized 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 130
The saints have sanctified!
[OLIMPIA _waves her hand to_ ARNOLD _with disdain, and
dashes herself on the pavement from the Altar_.
_Arn. _ Eternal God!
I feel thee now! Help! help! she's gone.
_Caes. _ (_approaches_). I am here.
_Arn. _ Thou! but oh, save her!
_Caes. _ (_assisting him to raise_ OLIMPIA). She hath done it well!
The leap was serious.
_Arn. _ Oh! she is lifeless!
_Caes. _ If
She be so, I have nought to do with that:
The resurrection is beyond me.
_Arn. _ Slave!
_Caes. _ Aye, slave or master, 'tis all one: methinks
Good words, however, are as well at times.
_Arn. _ Words! --Canst thou aid her?
_Caes. _ I will try. A sprinkling
Of that same holy water may be useful. 140
[_He brings some in his helmet from the font_.
_Arn. _ 'Tis mixed with blood.
_Caes. _ There is no cleaner now
In Rome.
_Arn. _ How pale! how beautiful! how lifeless!
Alive or dead, thou Essence of all Beauty,
I love but thee!
_Caes. _ Even so Achilles loved
Penthesilea;[249] with his form it seems
You have his heart, and yet it was no soft one.
_Arn. _ She breathes! But no, 'twas nothing, or the last
Faint flutter Life disputes with Death.
_Caes. _ She breathes.
_Arn. _ _Thou_ say'st it? Then 'tis truth.
_Caes. _ You do me right--
The Devil speaks truth much oftener than he's deemed: 150
He hath an ignorant audience.
_Arn. _ (_without attending to him_). Yes! her heart beats.
Alas! that the first beat of the only heart
I ever wished to beat with mine should vibrate
To an assassin's pulse.
_Caes. _ A sage reflection,
But somewhat late i' the day. Where shall we bear her?
I say she lives.
_Arn. _ And will she live?
_Cas. _ As much
As dust can.
_Arn. _ Then she is dead!
_Caes. _ Bah! bah! You are so,
And do not know it. She will come to life--
Such as you think so, such as you now are;
But we must work by human means.
_Arn. _ We will 160
Convey her unto the Colonna palace,
Where I have pitched my banner.
_Caes. _ Come then! raise her up!
_Arn. _ Softly!
_Caes. _ As softly as they bear the dead,
Perhaps because they cannot feel the jolting.
_Arn. _ But doth she live indeed?
_Caes. _ Nay, never fear!
But, if you rue it after, blame not me.
_Arn. _ Let her but live!
_Caes. _ The Spirit of her life
Is yet within her breast, and may revive.
Count! count! I am your servant in all things,
And this is a new office:--'tis not oft 170
I am employed in such; but you perceive
How staunch a friend is what you call a fiend.
On earth you have often only fiends for friends;
Now _I_ desert not mine. Soft! bear her hence,
The beautiful half-clay, and nearly spirit!
I am almost enamoured of her, as
Of old the Angels of her earliest sex. [250]
_Arn. _ Thou!
_Caes. _ I! But fear not. I'll not be your rival.
_Arn. _ Rival!
_Caes. _ I could be one right formidable;
But since I slew the seven husbands of 180
Tobias' future bride (and after all
Was smoked out by some incense),[251] I have laid
Aside intrigue: 'tis rarely worth the trouble
Of gaining, or--what is more difficult--
Getting rid of your prize again; for there's
The rub! at least to mortals.
_Arn. _ Prithee, peace!
Softly! methinks her lips move, her eyes open!
_Caes. _ Like stars, no doubt; for that's a metaphor
For Lucifer and Venus.
_Arn. _ To the palace
Colonna, as I told you!
_Caes. _ Oh! I know 190
My way through Rome.
_Arn. _ Now onward, onward! Gently!
[_Exeunt, bearing_ OLIMPIA. _The scene closes_.
PART III.
SCENE I. --_A Castle in the Apennines, surrounded by a wild but
smiling Country. Chorus of Peasants singing before the Gates_.
_Chorus_.
I.
The wars are over,
The spring is come;
The bride and her lover
Have sought their home:
They are happy, we rejoice;
Let their hearts have an echo in every voice!
II.
The spring is come; the violet's gone,
The first-born child of the early sun:[dt]
With us she is but a winter's flower,
The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower, 10
And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue
To the youngest sky of the self-same hue.
III.
And when the spring comes with her host
Of flowers, that flower beloved the most
Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse
Her heavenly odour and virgin hues.
IV.
Pluck the others, but still remember
Their herald out of dim December--
The morning star of all the flowers,
The pledge of daylight's lengthened hours; 20
Nor, midst the roses, e'er forget
The virgin--virgin Violet.
_Enter_ CAESAR.
_Caes. _ (_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. 30
He drinks--but what's drinking?
A mere pause from thinking!
No bugle awakes him with life-and-death 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 40
With birds from their nest.
_Caes_.
Oh! shadow of Glory!
Dim image 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, 50
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[du]
At the foaming behemoth;
While man was in stature
As towers in our time,
The first born of Nature, 60
And, like her, sublime!
_Chorus_.
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 Peasantry, singing_.
FRAGMENT OF THE THIRD PART OF _THE DEFORMED TRANSFORMED_.
_Chorus_.
When the merry bells are ringing,
And the peasant girls are singing,
And the early flowers are flinging
Their odours in the air;
And the honey bee is clinging
To the buds; and birds are winging
Their way, pair by pair:
Then the earth looks free from trouble
With the brightness of a bubble:
Though I did not make it, 10
I could breathe on and break it;
But too much I scorn it,
Or else I would mourn it,
To see despots and slaves
Playing o'er their own graves.
Meantime, pursue thy sport as I do mine;
Which is just now to gaze, since all these labourers
Will reap my harvest gratis.
_Arn. _ Thou art still
A fiend!
_Caes. _ And thou--a man.
_Arn. _ Why, such I fain would show me. [dr]
_Caes. _ True--as men are.
_Arn. _ And what is that?
_Caes. _ Thou feelest and thou see'st.
[_Exit_ ARNOLD, _joining in the combat which still
continues between detached parties. The
scene closes_.
SCENE III. --_St. Peter's--The interior of the Church--The
Pope at the Altar--Priests, etc. , crowding in confusion,
and Citizens flying for refuge, pursued by Soldiery_.
_Enter_ CAESAR.
_A Spanish Soldier_. Down with them, comrades, seize upon those lamps!
Cleave yon bald-pated shaveling to the chine!
His rosary's of gold!
_Lutheran Soldier_. Revenge! revenge!
Plunder hereafter, but for vengeance now--
Yonder stands Anti-Christ!
_Caes. _ (_interposing_). How now, schismatic?
What wouldst thou?
_Luth. Sold. _ In the holy name of Christ,
Destroy proud Anti-Christ. [247] I am a Christian.
_Caes. _ Yea, a disciple that would make the founder
Of your belief renounce it, could he see
Such proselytes. Best stint thyself to plunder. 10
_Luth. Sold. _ I say he is the Devil.
_Caes. _ Hush! keep that secret,[ds]
Lest he should recognise you for his own.
_Luth. Sold. _ Why would you save him? I repeat he is
The Devil, or the Devil's vicar upon earth.
_Caes. _ 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 Altar_.
_Caes. _ (_to the Lutheran_). I told you so.
_Luth. Sold. _ And will you not avenge me?
_Caes. _ Not I! You know that "Vengeance is the Lord's:"
You see he loves no interlopers.
_Luth. Sold. _ (_dying_). Oh! 20
Had I but slain him, I had gone on high,
Crowned with eternal glory! Heaven, forgive
My feebleness of arm that reached him not,
And take thy servant to thy mercy. 'Tis
A glorious triumph still; proud Babylon's
No more; the Harlot of the Seven Hills
Hath changed her scarlet raiment for sackcloth
And ashes! [_The Lutheran dies_.
_Caes. _ Yes, thine own amidst the rest.
Well done, old Babel!
[_The Guards defend themselves desperately, while the
Pontiff escapes, by a private passage, to the
Vatican and the Castle of St. Angelo_. [248]
_Caes. _ Ha! right nobly battled!
Now, priest! now, soldier! the two great professions, 30
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 Sold. _ They have barred the narrow passage up,
And it is clogged with dead even to the door.
_Caes. _ 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 40
Fall;--and besides, his now escape may furnish
A future miracle, in future proof
Of his infallibility. [_To the Spanish Soldiery_.
Well, cut-throats!
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!
He speaks the truth; the heretics will bear 50
The best away.
_Caes. _ And that were shame! Go to!
Assist in their conversion.
[_The Soldiers disperse; many quit the Church, others enter_.
_Caes. _ 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_.
_Sold. _ She's mine!
_Another Sold. _ (_opposing the former_).
You lie, I tracked her first: and were she
The Pope's niece, I'll not yield her. [_They fight_.
_3d Sold. _ (_advancing towards_ OLIMPIA). You may settle
Your claims; I'll make mine good.
_Olimp. _ Infernal slave! 60
You touch me not alive.
_3d Sold. _ Alive or dead!
_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'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.
_Olimp. _ 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 70
I would approach thee, worthy her, and him, and thee!
_Enter_ ARNOLD.
_Arn. _ What do I see? Accursed jackals! Forbear!
_Caes. _ (_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.
_Arn. _ With what weapon?
_Sold. _ The cross, beneath which he is crushed; behold him
Lie there, more like a worm than man; she cast it
Upon his head.
_Arn. _ Even so: there is a woman
Worthy a brave man's liking. Were ye such,
Ye would have honoured her. But get ye hence, 80
And thank your meanness, other God you have none,
For your existence. Had you touched a hair
Of those dishevelled locks, I would have thinned
Your ranks more than the enemy. Away!
Ye jackals! gnaw the bones the lion leaves,
But not even these till he permits.
_A Sold. _ (_murmuring_). The lion
Might conquer for himself then.
_Arn. _ (_cuts him down_). Mutineer!
Rebel in hell--you shall obey on earth!
[_The Soldiers assault_ ARNOLD.
_Arn. _ Come on! I'm glad on't! I will show you, slaves,
How you should be commanded, and who led you 90
First o'er the wall you were so 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!
_Arn. _ 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 conquest--
The conquest which you led to.
_Arn. _ Get you hence!
Hence to your quarters! you will find them fixed
In the Colonna palace.
_Olimp. _ (_aside_). In my father's 100
House!
_Arn. _ (_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!
_Arn. _ (_to_ OLIMPIA). Lady, you are safe.
_Olimp. _ I should be so,
Had I a knife even; but it matters not--
Death hath a thousand gates; and on the marble,
Even at the altar foot, whence I look down
Upon destruction, shall my head be dashed,
Ere thou ascend it. God forgive thee, man! 110
_Arn. _ I wish to merit his forgiveness, and
Thine own, although I have not injured thee.
_Olimp. _ No! Thou hast only sacked my native land,--
No injury! --and made my father's house
A den of thieves! No injury! --this temple--
Slippery with Roman and with holy gore!
No injury! And now 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. _ Hold! hold!
I swear.
_Olimp. _ Spare thine already forfeit soul
A perjury for which even Hell would loathe thee. 120
I know thee.
_Arn. _ No, thou know'st me not; I am not
Of these men, though----
_Olimp. _ 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 baptized 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 130
The saints have sanctified!
[OLIMPIA _waves her hand to_ ARNOLD _with disdain, and
dashes herself on the pavement from the Altar_.
_Arn. _ Eternal God!
I feel thee now! Help! help! she's gone.
_Caes. _ (_approaches_). I am here.
_Arn. _ Thou! but oh, save her!
_Caes. _ (_assisting him to raise_ OLIMPIA). She hath done it well!
The leap was serious.
_Arn. _ Oh! she is lifeless!
_Caes. _ If
She be so, I have nought to do with that:
The resurrection is beyond me.
_Arn. _ Slave!
_Caes. _ Aye, slave or master, 'tis all one: methinks
Good words, however, are as well at times.
_Arn. _ Words! --Canst thou aid her?
_Caes. _ I will try. A sprinkling
Of that same holy water may be useful. 140
[_He brings some in his helmet from the font_.
_Arn. _ 'Tis mixed with blood.
_Caes. _ There is no cleaner now
In Rome.
_Arn. _ How pale! how beautiful! how lifeless!
Alive or dead, thou Essence of all Beauty,
I love but thee!
_Caes. _ Even so Achilles loved
Penthesilea;[249] with his form it seems
You have his heart, and yet it was no soft one.
_Arn. _ She breathes! But no, 'twas nothing, or the last
Faint flutter Life disputes with Death.
_Caes. _ She breathes.
_Arn. _ _Thou_ say'st it? Then 'tis truth.
_Caes. _ You do me right--
The Devil speaks truth much oftener than he's deemed: 150
He hath an ignorant audience.
_Arn. _ (_without attending to him_). Yes! her heart beats.
Alas! that the first beat of the only heart
I ever wished to beat with mine should vibrate
To an assassin's pulse.
_Caes. _ A sage reflection,
But somewhat late i' the day. Where shall we bear her?
I say she lives.
_Arn. _ And will she live?
_Cas. _ As much
As dust can.
_Arn. _ Then she is dead!
_Caes. _ Bah! bah! You are so,
And do not know it. She will come to life--
Such as you think so, such as you now are;
But we must work by human means.
_Arn. _ We will 160
Convey her unto the Colonna palace,
Where I have pitched my banner.
_Caes. _ Come then! raise her up!
_Arn. _ Softly!
_Caes. _ As softly as they bear the dead,
Perhaps because they cannot feel the jolting.
_Arn. _ But doth she live indeed?
_Caes. _ Nay, never fear!
But, if you rue it after, blame not me.
_Arn. _ Let her but live!
_Caes. _ The Spirit of her life
Is yet within her breast, and may revive.
Count! count! I am your servant in all things,
And this is a new office:--'tis not oft 170
I am employed in such; but you perceive
How staunch a friend is what you call a fiend.
On earth you have often only fiends for friends;
Now _I_ desert not mine. Soft! bear her hence,
The beautiful half-clay, and nearly spirit!
I am almost enamoured of her, as
Of old the Angels of her earliest sex. [250]
_Arn. _ Thou!
_Caes. _ I! But fear not. I'll not be your rival.
_Arn. _ Rival!
_Caes. _ I could be one right formidable;
But since I slew the seven husbands of 180
Tobias' future bride (and after all
Was smoked out by some incense),[251] I have laid
Aside intrigue: 'tis rarely worth the trouble
Of gaining, or--what is more difficult--
Getting rid of your prize again; for there's
The rub! at least to mortals.
_Arn. _ Prithee, peace!
Softly! methinks her lips move, her eyes open!
_Caes. _ Like stars, no doubt; for that's a metaphor
For Lucifer and Venus.
_Arn. _ To the palace
Colonna, as I told you!
_Caes. _ Oh! I know 190
My way through Rome.
_Arn. _ Now onward, onward! Gently!
[_Exeunt, bearing_ OLIMPIA. _The scene closes_.
PART III.
SCENE I. --_A Castle in the Apennines, surrounded by a wild but
smiling Country. Chorus of Peasants singing before the Gates_.
_Chorus_.
I.
The wars are over,
The spring is come;
The bride and her lover
Have sought their home:
They are happy, we rejoice;
Let their hearts have an echo in every voice!
II.
The spring is come; the violet's gone,
The first-born child of the early sun:[dt]
With us she is but a winter's flower,
The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower, 10
And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue
To the youngest sky of the self-same hue.
III.
And when the spring comes with her host
Of flowers, that flower beloved the most
Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse
Her heavenly odour and virgin hues.
IV.
Pluck the others, but still remember
Their herald out of dim December--
The morning star of all the flowers,
The pledge of daylight's lengthened hours; 20
Nor, midst the roses, e'er forget
The virgin--virgin Violet.
_Enter_ CAESAR.
_Caes. _ (_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. 30
He drinks--but what's drinking?
A mere pause from thinking!
No bugle awakes him with life-and-death 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 40
With birds from their nest.
_Caes_.
Oh! shadow of Glory!
Dim image 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, 50
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[du]
At the foaming behemoth;
While man was in stature
As towers in our time,
The first born of Nature, 60
And, like her, sublime!
_Chorus_.
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 Peasantry, singing_.
FRAGMENT OF THE THIRD PART OF _THE DEFORMED TRANSFORMED_.
_Chorus_.
When the merry bells are ringing,
And the peasant girls are singing,
And the early flowers are flinging
Their odours in the air;
And the honey bee is clinging
To the buds; and birds are winging
Their way, pair by pair:
Then the earth looks free from trouble
With the brightness of a bubble:
Though I did not make it, 10
I could breathe on and break it;
But too much I scorn it,
Or else I would mourn it,
To see despots and slaves
Playing o'er their own graves.
