Yet once more, ye old
Penates!
Byron
_ And the mere men--do they, too, sweat beneath
The noon of this same ever-scorching glory?
_Bourb. _ Ah!
Welcome the bitter Hunchback! and his master,
The beauty of our host, and brave as beauteous, 220
And generous as lovely. We shall find
Work for you both ere morning.
_Caes. _ You will find,
So please your Highness, no less for yourself.
_Bourb. _ And if I do, there will not be a labourer
More forward, Hunchback!
_Caes. _ You may well say so,
For _you_ have seen that back--as general,
Placed in the rear in action--but your foes
Have never seen it.
_Bourb. _ That's a fair retort,
For I provoked it:--but the Bourbon's breast
Has been, and ever shall be, far advanced 230
In danger's face as yours, were you the _devil_.
_Caes. _ And if I were, I might have saved myself
The toil of coming here.
_Phil. _ Why so?
_Caes. _ One half
Of your brave bands of their own bold accord
Will go to him, the other half be sent,
More swiftly, not less surely.
_Bourb. _ Arnold, your
Slight crooked _friend's_ as snake-like in his words
As his deeds.
_Caes. _ Your Highness much mistakes me.
The first snake was a flatterer--I am none;
And for my deeds, I only sting when stung. 240
_Bourb. _ You are brave, and _that's_ enough for me; and quick
In speech as sharp in action--and that's more.
I am not alone the soldier, but the soldiers'
Comrade.
_Caes. _ They are but bad company, your Highness;
And worse even for their friends than foes, as being
More permanent acquaintance.
_Phil. _ How now, fellow!
Thou waxest insolent, beyond the privilege
Of a buffoon.
_Caes. _ You mean I speak the truth.
I'll lie--it is as easy: then you'll praise me
For calling you a hero.
_Bourb. _ Philibert! 250
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;
And for his tongue, the camp is full of licence,
And the sharp stinging of a lively rogue
Is, to my mind, far preferable to
The gross, dull, heavy, gloomy execration
Of a mere famished sullen grumbling slave,[dl]
Whom nothing can convince save a full meal,
And wine, and sleep, and a few Maravedis, 260
With which he deems him rich.
_Caes. _ It would be well
If the earth's princes asked no more.
_Bourb. _ Be silent!
_Caes. _ Aye, but not idle. Work yourself with words! [dm]
You have few to speak.
_Phil. _ What means the audacious prater?
_Caes. _ To prate, like other prophets.
_Bourb. _ Philibert!
Why will you vex him? Have we not enough
To think on? Arnold! I will lead the attack
To-morrow.
_Arn. _ I have heard as much, my Lord.
_Bourb. _ And you will follow?
_Arn. _ Since I must not lead.
_Bourb. _ 'Tis necessary for the further daring
Of our too needy army, that their chief
Plant the first foot upon the foremost ladder's
First step.
_Caes. _ Upon its topmost, let us hope:
So shall he have his full deserts.
_Bourb. _ The world's
Great capital perchance is ours to-morrow. [dn]
Through every change the seven-hilled city hath
Retained her sway o'er nations, and the Caesars
But yielded to the Alarics, the Alarics
Unto the pontiffs. Roman, Goth, or priest.
Still the world's masters! Civilised, 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.
_Caes. _ No doubt, the camp's the school of civic rights.
What would you make of Rome?
_Bourb. _ That which it was.
_Caes. _ In Alaric's time?
_Bourb. _ No, slave! in the first Caesar's,
Whose name you bear like other curs----
_Caes. _ And kings!
'Tis a great name for blood-hounds.
_Bourb. _ There's a demon
In that fierce rattlesnake thy tongue. Wilt never
Be serious?
_Caes. _ On the eve of battle, no;--
That were not soldier-like. 'Tis for the general
To be more pensive: we adventurers
Must be more cheerful. Wherefore should we think?
Our tutelar Deity, in a leader's shape,
Takes care of us. Keep thought aloof from hosts!
If the knaves take to thinking, you will have
To crack those walls alone.
_Bourb. _ You may sneer, since
'Tis lucky for you that you fight no worse for 't.
_Caes. _ I thank you for the freedom; 'tis the only 300
Pay I have taken in your Highness' service.
_Bourb. _ Well, sir, to-morrow you shall pay yourself.
Look on those towers; they hold my treasury:
But, Philibert, we'll in to council. Arnold,
We would request your presence.
_Arn. _ Prince! my service
Is yours, as in the field.
_Bourb. _ In both we prize it,
And yours will be a post of trust at daybreak.
_Caes. _ And mine?
_Bourb. _ To follow glory with the Bourbon.
Good night!
_Arn. _ (_to_ CAESAR). Prepare our armour for the assault,
And wait within my tent.
[_Exeunt_ BOURBON, ARNOLD, PHILIBERT, _etc. _
_Caes. _ (_solus_). Within thy tent! 310
Think'st thou that I pass from thee with my presence?
Or that this crooked coffer, which contained
Thy principle of life, is aught to me
Except a mask? And these are men, forsooth!
Heroes and chiefs, the flower of Adam's bastards!
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 320
The Spirit's pastime in his idler hours.
When I grow weary of it, I have business
Amongst the stars, which these poor creatures deem
Were made for them to look at. 'Twere a jest now
To bring one down amongst them, and set fire
Unto their anthill: how the pismires then
Would scamper o'er the scalding soil, and, ceasing
From tearing down each other's nests, pipe forth
One universal orison! ha! ha! [_Exit_ CAESAR.
PART II.
SCENE I. --_Before the walls of Rome. --The Assault: the
Army in motion, with ladders to scale the walls_;[238]
BOURBON _with a white scarf over his armour, foremost_.
_Chorus of Spirits in the air_.
I.
'Tis the morn, but dim and dark. [do]
Whither flies the silent lark?
Whither shrinks the clouded sun?
Is the day indeed begun?
Nature's eye is melancholy
O'er the city high and holy:
But without there is a din
Should arouse the saints within,
And revive the heroic ashes
Round which yellow Tiber dashes. 10
Oh, ye seven hills! awaken,
Ere your very base be shaken!
II.
Hearken to the steady stamp!
Mars is in their every tramp!
Not a step is out of tune,
As the tides obey the moon!
On they march, though to self-slaughter,
Regular as rolling water,
Whose high-waves o'ersweep the border
Of huge moles, but keep their order, 20
Breaking only rank by rank.
Hearken to the armour's clank!
Look down o'er each frowning warrior,
How he glares upon the barrier:
Look on each step of each ladder,
As the stripes that streak an adder.
III.
Look upon the bristling wall,
Manned without an interval!
Round and round, and tier on tier,
Cannon's black mouth, shining spear, 30
Lit match, bell-mouthed Musquetoon,
Gaping to be murderous soon;
All the warlike gear of old,
Mixed with what we now behold,
In this strife 'twixt old and new,
Gather like a locusts' crew.
Shade of Remus! 'tis a time
Awful as thy brother's crime!
Christians war against Christ's shrine:--
Must its lot be like to thine? 40
IV.
Near--and near--and nearer still,
As the Earthquake saps the hill,
First with trembling, hollow motion,
Like a scarce awakened ocean,
Then with stronger shock and louder,
Till the rocks are crushed to powder,--
Onward sweeps the rolling host!
Heroes of the immortal boast!
Mighty Chiefs! eternal shadows!
First flowers of the bloody meadows 50
Which encompass Rome, the mother
Of a people without brother!
Will you sleep when nations' quarrels
Plough the root up of your laurels?
Ye who weep o'er Carthage burning,
Weep not--_strike_! for Rome is mourning! [239]
V.
Onward sweep the varied nations!
Famine long hath dealt their rations.
To the wall, with hate and hunger,
Numerous as wolves, and stronger, 60
On they sweep. Oh, glorious City!
Must thou be a theme for pity?
Fight, like your first sire, each Roman!
Alaric was a gentle foeman,
Matched with Bourbon's black banditti!
Rouse thee, thou eternal City;
Rouse thee! Rather give the torch
With thine own hand to thy porch,[dp]
Than behold such hosts pollute
Your worst dwelling with their foot. 70
VI.
Ah! behold yon bleeding spectre!
Ilion's children find no Hector;
Priam's offspring loved their brother;
Rome's great sire forgot his mother,
When he slew his gallant twin,
With inexpiable sin.
See the giant shadow stride
O'er the ramparts high and wide!
When the first o'erleapt thy wall,
Its foundation mourned thy fall. 80
Now, though towering like a Babel,
Who to stop his steps are able?
Stalking o'er thy highest dome,
Remus claims his vengeance, Rome!
VII.
Now they reach thee in their anger:
Fire and smoke and hellish clangour
Are around thee, thou world's wonder!
Death is in thy walls and under.
Now the meeting steel first clashes,
Downward then the ladder crashes, 90
With its iron load all gleaming,
Lying at its foot blaspheming!
Up again! for every warrior
Slain, another climbs the barrier.
Thicker grows the strife: thy ditches
Europe's mingling gore enriches.
Rome! although thy wall may perish,
Such manure thy fields will cherish,
Making gay the harvest-home;
But thy hearths, alas! oh, Rome! -- 100
Yet be Rome amidst thine anguish,
Fight as thou wast wont to vanquish!
VIII.
Yet once more, ye old Penates!
Let not your quenched hearts be Ates!
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 curbed the Roman;--
Brennus was a baffled foeman. 110
Yet again, ye saints and martyrs,
Rise! for yours are holier charters!
Mighty Gods of temples falling,
Yet in ruin still appalling!
Mightier Founders of those altars,
True and Christian,--strike the assaulters!
Tiber! Tiber! let thy torrent
Show even Nature's self abhorrent.
Let each breathing heart dilated
Turn, as doth the lion baited! 120
Rome be crashed to one wide tomb,
But be still the Roman's Rome! [240]
[BOURBON, ARNOLD, CAESAR, _and others, arrive at the foot
of the wall_. ARNOLD _is about to plant his ladder_.
_Bourb. _ Hold, Arnold! I am first.
_Arn. _ Not so, my Lord.
_Bourb. _ Hold, sir, I charge you! Follow! I am proud
Of such a follower, but will brook no leader.
[BOURBON _plants his ladder, and begins to mount_.
Now, boys! On! on!
[_A shot strikes him, and_ BOURBON _falls_.
_Caes. _ And off!
_Arn. _ Eternal powers!
The host will be appalled,--but vengeance! vengeance!
_Bourb. _ 'Tis nothing--lend me your hand.
[BOURBON _takes_ ARNOLD _by the hand, and rises; but
as he puts his foot on the step, falls again_.
Arnold! I am sped.
Conceal my fall[241]--all will go well--conceal it!
Fling my cloak o'er what will be dust anon; 130
Let not the soldiers see it.
_Arn. _ You must be
Removed; the aid of----
_Bourb. _ No, my gallant boy!
Death is upon me. But what is _one_ life?
The Bourbon's spirit shall command them still.
Keep them yet ignorant that I am but clay,
Till they are conquerors--then do as you may.
_Caes. _ Would not your Highness choose to kiss the cross?
We have no priest here, but the hilt of sword
May serve instead:--it did the same for Bayard[242].
_Bourb. _ Thou bitter slave! to name _him_ at this time! 140
But I deserve it.
_Arn. _ (_to_ CAESAR). Villain, hold your peace!
_Caes. _ What, when a Christian dies? Shall I not offer
A Christian "Vade in pace[243]? "
_Arn. _ Silence! Oh!
Those eyes are glazing which o'erlooked the world,
And saw no equal.
_Bourb. _ 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!
You lose time--they will conquer Rome without thee.
_Arn. _ And without _thee_.
_Bourb. _ Not so; I'll lead them still 150
In spirit. Cover up my dust, and breathe not
That I have ceased to breathe. Away! and be
Victorious.
_Arn. _ But I must not leave thee thus.
_Bourb. _ You must--farewell--Up! up! the world is winning.
[BOURBON _dies_.
_Caes. _ (_to_ ARNOLD). Come, Count, to business.
_Arn. _ True. I'll weep hereafter.
[ARNOLD _covers_ BOURBON'S _body with a mantle,
mounts the ladder, crying_
The Bourbon! Bourbon! On, boys! Rome is ours!
_Caes. _ Good night, Lord Constable! thou wert a Man.
[CAESAR _follows_ ARNOLD; _they reach the battlement;_
ARNOLD _and_ CAESAR _are struck down_.
_Caes. _ A precious somerset! Is your countship injured?
_Arn. _ No. [_Remounts the ladder_.
_Caes. _ A rare blood-hound, when his own is heated!
And 'tis no boy's play. Now he strikes them down! 160
His hand is on the battlement--he grasps it
As though it were an altar; now his foot
Is on it, and----What have we here? --a Roman?
The first bird of the covey! he has fallen [_A man falls_.
On the outside of the nest. Why, how now, fellow?
_Wounded Man_. A drop of water!
_Caes. _ Blood's the only liquid
Nearer than Tiber.
_Wounded Man_. I have died for Rome. [_Dies_.
_Caes. _ And so did Bourbon, in another sense.
Oh, these immortal men! and their great motives!
But I must after my young charge. He is 170
By this time i' the Forum. Charge! charge!
[CAESAR _mounts the ladder; the scene closes_.
SCENE II. --_The City_. --_Combats between the Besiegers
and Besieged in the streets_. _Inhabitants flying in confusion_.
_Enter_ CAESAR.
_Caes. _ I cannot find my hero; he is mixed
With the heroic crowd that now pursue
The fugitives, or battle with the desperate.
What have we here? A Cardinal or two
That do not seem in love with martyrdom.
How the old red-shanks scamper! Could they doff
Their hose as they have doffed their hats, 'twould be
A blessing, as a mark[244] the less for plunder.
But let them fly; the crimson kennels now
Will not much stain their stockings, since the mire 10
Is of the self-same purple hue.
_Enter a Party fighting_--ARNOLD _at the head of the Besiegers_.
He comes,
Hand in hand with the mild twins--Gore and Glory. [dq]
Holla! hold, Count!
_Arn. _ Away! they must not rally.
_Caes. _ 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,
But not of mind, which is not mine to give.
But though I gave the form of Thetis' son,
I dipped thee not in Styx; and 'gainst a foe 20
I would not warrant thy chivalric heart
More than Pelides' heel; why, then, be cautious,
And know thyself a mortal still.
_Arn. _ And who
With aught of soul would combat if he were
Invulnerable? That were pretty sport.
Think'st thou I beat for hares when lions roar?
[ARNOLD _rushes into the combat_.
_Caes. _ A precious sample of humanity!
Well, his blood's up; and, if a little's shed,
'Twill serve to curb his fever.
[ARNOLD _engages with a Roman, who retires
towards a portico_.
_Arn. _ Yield thee, slave!
I promise quarter.
_Rom. _ That's soon said.
_Arn. _ And done---- 30
My word is known.
_Rom. _ So shall be my deeds.
[_They re-engage_. CAESAR _comes forward_.
_Caes. _ Why, Arnold! hold thine own: thou hast in hand
A famous artisan, a cunning sculptor;
Also a dealer in the sword and dagger.
Not so, my musqueteer; 'twas he who slew
The Bourbon from the wall. [245]
_Arn. _ Aye, did he so?
Then he hath carved his monument.
_Rom. _ I yet
May live to carve your better's.
_Caes. _ Well said, my man of marble! Benvenuto,
Thou hast some practice in both ways; and he 40
Who slays Cellini will have worked as hard
As e'er thou didst upon Carrara's blocks.
[ARNOLD _disarms and wounds_ CELLINI, _hit slightly:
the latter draws a pistol, and fires; then
retires, and disappears through the portico_.
_Caes. _ How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, methinks,
Of red Bellona's banquet.
_Arn. _ (_staggers_). 'Tis a scratch.
Lend me thy scarf. He shall not 'scape me thus.
_Caes. _ Where is it?
_Arn. _ In the shoulder, not the sword arm--
And that's enough.
The noon of this same ever-scorching glory?
_Bourb. _ Ah!
Welcome the bitter Hunchback! and his master,
The beauty of our host, and brave as beauteous, 220
And generous as lovely. We shall find
Work for you both ere morning.
_Caes. _ You will find,
So please your Highness, no less for yourself.
_Bourb. _ And if I do, there will not be a labourer
More forward, Hunchback!
_Caes. _ You may well say so,
For _you_ have seen that back--as general,
Placed in the rear in action--but your foes
Have never seen it.
_Bourb. _ That's a fair retort,
For I provoked it:--but the Bourbon's breast
Has been, and ever shall be, far advanced 230
In danger's face as yours, were you the _devil_.
_Caes. _ And if I were, I might have saved myself
The toil of coming here.
_Phil. _ Why so?
_Caes. _ One half
Of your brave bands of their own bold accord
Will go to him, the other half be sent,
More swiftly, not less surely.
_Bourb. _ Arnold, your
Slight crooked _friend's_ as snake-like in his words
As his deeds.
_Caes. _ Your Highness much mistakes me.
The first snake was a flatterer--I am none;
And for my deeds, I only sting when stung. 240
_Bourb. _ You are brave, and _that's_ enough for me; and quick
In speech as sharp in action--and that's more.
I am not alone the soldier, but the soldiers'
Comrade.
_Caes. _ They are but bad company, your Highness;
And worse even for their friends than foes, as being
More permanent acquaintance.
_Phil. _ How now, fellow!
Thou waxest insolent, beyond the privilege
Of a buffoon.
_Caes. _ You mean I speak the truth.
I'll lie--it is as easy: then you'll praise me
For calling you a hero.
_Bourb. _ Philibert! 250
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;
And for his tongue, the camp is full of licence,
And the sharp stinging of a lively rogue
Is, to my mind, far preferable to
The gross, dull, heavy, gloomy execration
Of a mere famished sullen grumbling slave,[dl]
Whom nothing can convince save a full meal,
And wine, and sleep, and a few Maravedis, 260
With which he deems him rich.
_Caes. _ It would be well
If the earth's princes asked no more.
_Bourb. _ Be silent!
_Caes. _ Aye, but not idle. Work yourself with words! [dm]
You have few to speak.
_Phil. _ What means the audacious prater?
_Caes. _ To prate, like other prophets.
_Bourb. _ Philibert!
Why will you vex him? Have we not enough
To think on? Arnold! I will lead the attack
To-morrow.
_Arn. _ I have heard as much, my Lord.
_Bourb. _ And you will follow?
_Arn. _ Since I must not lead.
_Bourb. _ 'Tis necessary for the further daring
Of our too needy army, that their chief
Plant the first foot upon the foremost ladder's
First step.
_Caes. _ Upon its topmost, let us hope:
So shall he have his full deserts.
_Bourb. _ The world's
Great capital perchance is ours to-morrow. [dn]
Through every change the seven-hilled city hath
Retained her sway o'er nations, and the Caesars
But yielded to the Alarics, the Alarics
Unto the pontiffs. Roman, Goth, or priest.
Still the world's masters! Civilised, 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.
_Caes. _ No doubt, the camp's the school of civic rights.
What would you make of Rome?
_Bourb. _ That which it was.
_Caes. _ In Alaric's time?
_Bourb. _ No, slave! in the first Caesar's,
Whose name you bear like other curs----
_Caes. _ And kings!
'Tis a great name for blood-hounds.
_Bourb. _ There's a demon
In that fierce rattlesnake thy tongue. Wilt never
Be serious?
_Caes. _ On the eve of battle, no;--
That were not soldier-like. 'Tis for the general
To be more pensive: we adventurers
Must be more cheerful. Wherefore should we think?
Our tutelar Deity, in a leader's shape,
Takes care of us. Keep thought aloof from hosts!
If the knaves take to thinking, you will have
To crack those walls alone.
_Bourb. _ You may sneer, since
'Tis lucky for you that you fight no worse for 't.
_Caes. _ I thank you for the freedom; 'tis the only 300
Pay I have taken in your Highness' service.
_Bourb. _ Well, sir, to-morrow you shall pay yourself.
Look on those towers; they hold my treasury:
But, Philibert, we'll in to council. Arnold,
We would request your presence.
_Arn. _ Prince! my service
Is yours, as in the field.
_Bourb. _ In both we prize it,
And yours will be a post of trust at daybreak.
_Caes. _ And mine?
_Bourb. _ To follow glory with the Bourbon.
Good night!
_Arn. _ (_to_ CAESAR). Prepare our armour for the assault,
And wait within my tent.
[_Exeunt_ BOURBON, ARNOLD, PHILIBERT, _etc. _
_Caes. _ (_solus_). Within thy tent! 310
Think'st thou that I pass from thee with my presence?
Or that this crooked coffer, which contained
Thy principle of life, is aught to me
Except a mask? And these are men, forsooth!
Heroes and chiefs, the flower of Adam's bastards!
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 320
The Spirit's pastime in his idler hours.
When I grow weary of it, I have business
Amongst the stars, which these poor creatures deem
Were made for them to look at. 'Twere a jest now
To bring one down amongst them, and set fire
Unto their anthill: how the pismires then
Would scamper o'er the scalding soil, and, ceasing
From tearing down each other's nests, pipe forth
One universal orison! ha! ha! [_Exit_ CAESAR.
PART II.
SCENE I. --_Before the walls of Rome. --The Assault: the
Army in motion, with ladders to scale the walls_;[238]
BOURBON _with a white scarf over his armour, foremost_.
_Chorus of Spirits in the air_.
I.
'Tis the morn, but dim and dark. [do]
Whither flies the silent lark?
Whither shrinks the clouded sun?
Is the day indeed begun?
Nature's eye is melancholy
O'er the city high and holy:
But without there is a din
Should arouse the saints within,
And revive the heroic ashes
Round which yellow Tiber dashes. 10
Oh, ye seven hills! awaken,
Ere your very base be shaken!
II.
Hearken to the steady stamp!
Mars is in their every tramp!
Not a step is out of tune,
As the tides obey the moon!
On they march, though to self-slaughter,
Regular as rolling water,
Whose high-waves o'ersweep the border
Of huge moles, but keep their order, 20
Breaking only rank by rank.
Hearken to the armour's clank!
Look down o'er each frowning warrior,
How he glares upon the barrier:
Look on each step of each ladder,
As the stripes that streak an adder.
III.
Look upon the bristling wall,
Manned without an interval!
Round and round, and tier on tier,
Cannon's black mouth, shining spear, 30
Lit match, bell-mouthed Musquetoon,
Gaping to be murderous soon;
All the warlike gear of old,
Mixed with what we now behold,
In this strife 'twixt old and new,
Gather like a locusts' crew.
Shade of Remus! 'tis a time
Awful as thy brother's crime!
Christians war against Christ's shrine:--
Must its lot be like to thine? 40
IV.
Near--and near--and nearer still,
As the Earthquake saps the hill,
First with trembling, hollow motion,
Like a scarce awakened ocean,
Then with stronger shock and louder,
Till the rocks are crushed to powder,--
Onward sweeps the rolling host!
Heroes of the immortal boast!
Mighty Chiefs! eternal shadows!
First flowers of the bloody meadows 50
Which encompass Rome, the mother
Of a people without brother!
Will you sleep when nations' quarrels
Plough the root up of your laurels?
Ye who weep o'er Carthage burning,
Weep not--_strike_! for Rome is mourning! [239]
V.
Onward sweep the varied nations!
Famine long hath dealt their rations.
To the wall, with hate and hunger,
Numerous as wolves, and stronger, 60
On they sweep. Oh, glorious City!
Must thou be a theme for pity?
Fight, like your first sire, each Roman!
Alaric was a gentle foeman,
Matched with Bourbon's black banditti!
Rouse thee, thou eternal City;
Rouse thee! Rather give the torch
With thine own hand to thy porch,[dp]
Than behold such hosts pollute
Your worst dwelling with their foot. 70
VI.
Ah! behold yon bleeding spectre!
Ilion's children find no Hector;
Priam's offspring loved their brother;
Rome's great sire forgot his mother,
When he slew his gallant twin,
With inexpiable sin.
See the giant shadow stride
O'er the ramparts high and wide!
When the first o'erleapt thy wall,
Its foundation mourned thy fall. 80
Now, though towering like a Babel,
Who to stop his steps are able?
Stalking o'er thy highest dome,
Remus claims his vengeance, Rome!
VII.
Now they reach thee in their anger:
Fire and smoke and hellish clangour
Are around thee, thou world's wonder!
Death is in thy walls and under.
Now the meeting steel first clashes,
Downward then the ladder crashes, 90
With its iron load all gleaming,
Lying at its foot blaspheming!
Up again! for every warrior
Slain, another climbs the barrier.
Thicker grows the strife: thy ditches
Europe's mingling gore enriches.
Rome! although thy wall may perish,
Such manure thy fields will cherish,
Making gay the harvest-home;
But thy hearths, alas! oh, Rome! -- 100
Yet be Rome amidst thine anguish,
Fight as thou wast wont to vanquish!
VIII.
Yet once more, ye old Penates!
Let not your quenched hearts be Ates!
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 curbed the Roman;--
Brennus was a baffled foeman. 110
Yet again, ye saints and martyrs,
Rise! for yours are holier charters!
Mighty Gods of temples falling,
Yet in ruin still appalling!
Mightier Founders of those altars,
True and Christian,--strike the assaulters!
Tiber! Tiber! let thy torrent
Show even Nature's self abhorrent.
Let each breathing heart dilated
Turn, as doth the lion baited! 120
Rome be crashed to one wide tomb,
But be still the Roman's Rome! [240]
[BOURBON, ARNOLD, CAESAR, _and others, arrive at the foot
of the wall_. ARNOLD _is about to plant his ladder_.
_Bourb. _ Hold, Arnold! I am first.
_Arn. _ Not so, my Lord.
_Bourb. _ Hold, sir, I charge you! Follow! I am proud
Of such a follower, but will brook no leader.
[BOURBON _plants his ladder, and begins to mount_.
Now, boys! On! on!
[_A shot strikes him, and_ BOURBON _falls_.
_Caes. _ And off!
_Arn. _ Eternal powers!
The host will be appalled,--but vengeance! vengeance!
_Bourb. _ 'Tis nothing--lend me your hand.
[BOURBON _takes_ ARNOLD _by the hand, and rises; but
as he puts his foot on the step, falls again_.
Arnold! I am sped.
Conceal my fall[241]--all will go well--conceal it!
Fling my cloak o'er what will be dust anon; 130
Let not the soldiers see it.
_Arn. _ You must be
Removed; the aid of----
_Bourb. _ No, my gallant boy!
Death is upon me. But what is _one_ life?
The Bourbon's spirit shall command them still.
Keep them yet ignorant that I am but clay,
Till they are conquerors--then do as you may.
_Caes. _ Would not your Highness choose to kiss the cross?
We have no priest here, but the hilt of sword
May serve instead:--it did the same for Bayard[242].
_Bourb. _ Thou bitter slave! to name _him_ at this time! 140
But I deserve it.
_Arn. _ (_to_ CAESAR). Villain, hold your peace!
_Caes. _ What, when a Christian dies? Shall I not offer
A Christian "Vade in pace[243]? "
_Arn. _ Silence! Oh!
Those eyes are glazing which o'erlooked the world,
And saw no equal.
_Bourb. _ 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!
You lose time--they will conquer Rome without thee.
_Arn. _ And without _thee_.
_Bourb. _ Not so; I'll lead them still 150
In spirit. Cover up my dust, and breathe not
That I have ceased to breathe. Away! and be
Victorious.
_Arn. _ But I must not leave thee thus.
_Bourb. _ You must--farewell--Up! up! the world is winning.
[BOURBON _dies_.
_Caes. _ (_to_ ARNOLD). Come, Count, to business.
_Arn. _ True. I'll weep hereafter.
[ARNOLD _covers_ BOURBON'S _body with a mantle,
mounts the ladder, crying_
The Bourbon! Bourbon! On, boys! Rome is ours!
_Caes. _ Good night, Lord Constable! thou wert a Man.
[CAESAR _follows_ ARNOLD; _they reach the battlement;_
ARNOLD _and_ CAESAR _are struck down_.
_Caes. _ A precious somerset! Is your countship injured?
_Arn. _ No. [_Remounts the ladder_.
_Caes. _ A rare blood-hound, when his own is heated!
And 'tis no boy's play. Now he strikes them down! 160
His hand is on the battlement--he grasps it
As though it were an altar; now his foot
Is on it, and----What have we here? --a Roman?
The first bird of the covey! he has fallen [_A man falls_.
On the outside of the nest. Why, how now, fellow?
_Wounded Man_. A drop of water!
_Caes. _ Blood's the only liquid
Nearer than Tiber.
_Wounded Man_. I have died for Rome. [_Dies_.
_Caes. _ And so did Bourbon, in another sense.
Oh, these immortal men! and their great motives!
But I must after my young charge. He is 170
By this time i' the Forum. Charge! charge!
[CAESAR _mounts the ladder; the scene closes_.
SCENE II. --_The City_. --_Combats between the Besiegers
and Besieged in the streets_. _Inhabitants flying in confusion_.
_Enter_ CAESAR.
_Caes. _ I cannot find my hero; he is mixed
With the heroic crowd that now pursue
The fugitives, or battle with the desperate.
What have we here? A Cardinal or two
That do not seem in love with martyrdom.
How the old red-shanks scamper! Could they doff
Their hose as they have doffed their hats, 'twould be
A blessing, as a mark[244] the less for plunder.
But let them fly; the crimson kennels now
Will not much stain their stockings, since the mire 10
Is of the self-same purple hue.
_Enter a Party fighting_--ARNOLD _at the head of the Besiegers_.
He comes,
Hand in hand with the mild twins--Gore and Glory. [dq]
Holla! hold, Count!
_Arn. _ Away! they must not rally.
_Caes. _ 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,
But not of mind, which is not mine to give.
But though I gave the form of Thetis' son,
I dipped thee not in Styx; and 'gainst a foe 20
I would not warrant thy chivalric heart
More than Pelides' heel; why, then, be cautious,
And know thyself a mortal still.
_Arn. _ And who
With aught of soul would combat if he were
Invulnerable? That were pretty sport.
Think'st thou I beat for hares when lions roar?
[ARNOLD _rushes into the combat_.
_Caes. _ A precious sample of humanity!
Well, his blood's up; and, if a little's shed,
'Twill serve to curb his fever.
[ARNOLD _engages with a Roman, who retires
towards a portico_.
_Arn. _ Yield thee, slave!
I promise quarter.
_Rom. _ That's soon said.
_Arn. _ And done---- 30
My word is known.
_Rom. _ So shall be my deeds.
[_They re-engage_. CAESAR _comes forward_.
_Caes. _ Why, Arnold! hold thine own: thou hast in hand
A famous artisan, a cunning sculptor;
Also a dealer in the sword and dagger.
Not so, my musqueteer; 'twas he who slew
The Bourbon from the wall. [245]
_Arn. _ Aye, did he so?
Then he hath carved his monument.
_Rom. _ I yet
May live to carve your better's.
_Caes. _ Well said, my man of marble! Benvenuto,
Thou hast some practice in both ways; and he 40
Who slays Cellini will have worked as hard
As e'er thou didst upon Carrara's blocks.
[ARNOLD _disarms and wounds_ CELLINI, _hit slightly:
the latter draws a pistol, and fires; then
retires, and disappears through the portico_.
_Caes. _ How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, methinks,
Of red Bellona's banquet.
_Arn. _ (_staggers_). 'Tis a scratch.
Lend me thy scarf. He shall not 'scape me thus.
_Caes. _ Where is it?
_Arn. _ In the shoulder, not the sword arm--
And that's enough.
