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Casa It would be well

If the Earth's princes asked no more.
Bourbon. Be silent!

Cæsar. Aye, but not idle. Work yourself with words!

You have few to speak.

Phil. What means the audacious prater? Cæsar. To prate, like other prophets. Bourbon. Philibert!

Why will you vex him? Have we not enough
To think on? Arnold! I will lead the attack
To-morrow.

Arnold. I have heard as much, my Lord.
Bourbon. And you will follow?
Arnold. Since I must not lead.

Bourbon. 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.

Cæsar. Upon its topmost, let us hope: So shall he have his full deserts.

Bourbon. The world's

Great capital perchance is ours to-morrow. Through every change the seven-hilled city hath

Retained her sway o'er nations, and the

Cæsars

But yielded to the Alarics, the Alarics Unto the Pontiffs. Roman, Goth, or Priest, Still the world's masters! Civilized, Barbarian,

Or Saintly, still the walls of Romulus Have been the Circus of an Empire. Well! 'Twas their turn-now 'tis ours; and let us hope

That we will fight as well, and rule much better.

Casar. No doubt, the camp's the school of civic rights.

What would you make of Rome?
Bourbon. That which it was.
Cæsar. In Alaric's time?

Bourbon. No, slave! In the first Cæsar's, Whose name you bear like other curs. Cæsar. And kings.

'Tis a great name for bloodhounds. Bourbon. There's a demon

In that fierce rattle-snake, thy tongue. Wilt never

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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.

Bourbon. You may sneer, since

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Good night!

Arnold (to Casar). Prepare our armour for the assault,

And wait within my tent.

[Exeunt Bourbon, Arnold, Philibert, etc. Casar (solus). Within thy tent! Thinkst 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 pup-
pets: 'tis

The Spirit's pastime in his idler hours.
When I grow weary of it, I have business
Amongst the stars, which these poor crea-
tures deem

Were made for them to look at. Twere a jest now

To bring one down amongst them, and set fire Unto their ant-hill: how the pismires then Would scamper o'er the scalding soil, and,

ceasing

From tearing down each others' nests, pipe

forth One universal orison! Ha! ha!

ACT II

[Exit Cæsar.

SCENE 1.-Before the Walls of Rome. The
assault; the army in motion, with ladders
to scale the walls; BOURBON, with a white
scarf over his armour, foremost.

Chorus of Spirits in the air.
Tis the morn, but dim and dark.
Whither flies the silent lark?
Whither shrinks the clouded sun?

'Tis lucky for you that you fight no worse Is the day indeed begun?

for't.

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.
Oh ye seven hills! awaken,
Ere your very base be shaken!

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,
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.

Look upon the bristling wall,
Mann'd without an interval!
Round and round, and tier on tier,
Cannon's black mouth, shining spear,
Lit match, bell-mouth'd musquetoon,
Gaping to be murderous soon.
All the warlike gear of old,
Mix'd 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?

Near-and near-nearer still,
As the earthquake saps the hill,
First with trembling, hollow motion,
Like a scarce-awaken'd ocean,
Then with stronger shock and louder,
Till the rocks are crush'd to powder,-
Onward sweeps the rolling host!
Heroes of the immortal boast!
Mighty Chiefs! Eternal Shadows!
First flowers of the bloody meadows
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 wept o'er Carthage burning,
Weep not-strike! for Rome is mourning!
Onward sweep the varied nations!
Famine long hath dealt their rations.
To the wall, with Hate and Hunger,
Numerous as wolves, and stronger,
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,

Match'd with Bourbon's black banditti!
Rouse thee, thou eternal City!

Rouse thee! Rather give the porch
With thy own hand to thy torch,
Than behold such hosts pollute
Your worst dwelling with their foot.

Ah! behold yon bleeding Spectre!
Ilion's children find no Hector;
Priam's offspring loved their brother;
Roma's 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 he first o'erleapt thy wall,
Its foundation mourn'd thy fall.
Now, though towering like a Babel,
Who to stop his steps are able?
Stalking o'er thy highest dome,
Remus claims his vengeance, Rome!

Now they reach thee in their anger:
Fire, and smoke, and hellish clangor
Are around thee, thon world's Wonder!
Death is in thy walls and under.
Now the meeting steel first clashes;
Downward then the ladder crashes,
With its ion 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!-
Yet be Rome amidst thine anguish,
Fight as thou wast wont to vanquish!

Yet once more, ye old Penates!
Let not your quenched hearths be Ate's!
Yet again, ye shadowy heroes,
Yield not to these stranger Neroes!
Though the Son who slew his mother,
Shed Rome's blood, he was your brother:
"Twas the Roman curb'd the Roman:-
Brennus was a baffled foeman.
Yet again, ye Saints and Martyrs,
Rise, for yours are holier charters.
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!
Rome be crush'd to one wide tomb,
But be still the Roman's Rome!

BOURBON, ARNOLD, CAESAR, and others, arrive at the foot of the wall. ARNOLD is about to plant his ladder.

Bourbon. Hold, Arnold: I am first
Arnold. Not so, my Lord.

Bourbon. Hold, sir, I charge you! Follow! I am proud

Of such a follower, but will brook no leader.

Arnold. Truc. I'll weep hereafter.
[Arnold covers Bourbon's body with a
mantle, and mounts the ladder, crying:

[Bourbon plants his ladder, and The Bourbon! Bourbon! On boys! Rome

begins to mount.

Now, boys! Ön! on!

[A shot strikes him, and Bourbon falls. Cæsar. And off!

Arnold. Eternal powers!

The host will be appalled.—But vengeance! vengeance!

Bourbon. '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-all will go wellconceal it!

Fling my cloak o'er what will be dust anon; Let not the soldiers see it.

Arnold. You must be Removed; the aid of—

Bourbon. No, my gallant boy; Death is upon me. But what is one life? The Bourbon's spirit shall command them still.

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Keep them yet ignorant that I am but clay, Till they are conquerors then do as you may. Cæsar. 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.

Bourbon.

Thou bitter slave! to name him at this time!

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A

is ours!

Cæsar. Good night, Lord Constable! thou wert a man.

[Cæsar follows Arnold; they reach the battlement; Arnold and Cæsar are struck down.

precious somerset! Is your Countship injured? No.

Arnold.

[Remounts the ladder. Cæsar. A rare blood-hound, when his own is heated!

And 'tis no boy's-play. Now he strikes them down!

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? [A man falls.

The first bird of the covey! he has fall'n On the outside of the nest. Why, how now, fellow?

The wounded Man. A drop of water! Cæsar. Blood's the only liquid Nearer than Tiber.

Wounded Man. I have died for Rome.

[Dies. Cæsar. And so did Bourbon, in another

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Cæsar. 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 the less for plunder. But let them fly, the crimson kennels now Will not much stain their stockings, since the mire

Is of the self-same purple hue. Enter a party fighting-ARNOLD at the head of the Besiegers.

He comes,

Arnold. But I must not leave thee thas. Bourbon. You must-farewell-Up! up! the world is winning. [Bourbon dies. Hand in hand with the mild twins-Gore Casar (to Arnold). Come, Count, to business.

and Glory.

Holla! hold, Count!

Arnold. Away! they must not rally.
Casar. 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 dipt thee not in Styx; and 'gainst a foe
I would not warrant thy chivalric heart
More than Pelides' heel; why then, be
cautious,

And know thyself a mortal still.

Arnold. And who

With aught of soul would combat if he were Invulnerable? That were pretty sport. Thinkst thou I beat for hares when lions roar?

[Arnold rushes into the combat. Casar. 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.

Arnold. Yield thee, slave!

I promise quarter.

Roman. That's soon said.
Arnold. And done-

My word is known.

Roman. So shall be my deeds.

[They re-engage. Cæsar comes forward. Cæsar. Why, Arnold! Hold thine own; thou hast in band

A famous artizan, a cunning sculptor;
Also a dealer in the sword and dagger.
Not so, my musqueteer; 'twas he who slow
The Bourbon from the wall.

Arnold. Aye, did he so?
Then he hath carved his monument.
Roman. I yet

May live to carve your betters.

Cæsar. Well said, my man of marble!
Benvenuto,

Thou hast some practice in both ways; and he

Who slays Cellini, will have work'd as hard As e'er thou didst upon Carrara's blocks.

[Arnold disarms and wounds Cellini, but slightly; the latter draws a pistol and fires; then retires and disappears through the portico.

Cæsar.

How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, methinks,

Of red Bellona's banquet.

Arnold (staggers). 'Tis a scratch. Lend me thy scarf. He shall not 'scape me thus.

Casar.

Where is it?

Arnold. In the shoulder,not the sword-arm, And that's enough. I am thirsty: would I had

A helm of water!

Cæsar. That's a liquid now In requisition, but by no means easiest To come at.

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Lutheran Soldier. Revenge! Revenge! Plunder hereafter, but for vengeance now— Yonder stands Anti-Christ!

Casar (interposing). How now, Schis

matic! What wouldst thou?

Lutheran Soldier. In the holy name of Christ,

Destroy proudAnti-Christ. I am a Christian. Casar. Yea, a disciple that would make

the Founder

Of your belief renounce it, could he see Such proselytes. Best stint thyself to plunder.

Lutheran Soldier. I say he is the Devil. Cæsar. Hush! keep that secret, Lest he should recognize you for his own. Lutheran Soldier. Why would you save

him? I repeat he is

The Devil, or the Devil's Vicar upon Earth. Cæsar. And that's the reason; would you make a quarrel

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avenge me?

Cæsar. Not I! You know that "Ven-
geance is the Lord's:"

You see he loves no interlopers.
Lutheran (dying). Oh!

Had I but slain him, I had gone on high, Crowned with eternal glory! Heaven, forgive

My feebleness of arm that reach'd 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 sack-
cloth

And ashes!
[The Lutheran dies.
Cæsar. 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. Cæsar. Ha! right nobly battled! Now, Priest! now, Soldier! the two great professions,

Together by the ears and hearts! I have not Seen a more comic pantomime since Titus Took Jewry. But the Romans had the best then;

Now they must take their turn.

Soldiers. He hath escaped! Follow! Another Soldier. They have barred the narrow passage up, And it is clogged with dead even to the door. Cæsar. 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 Fall;-and besides, his now escape may furnish

A future miracle, in future proof
Of his infallibility. [To the Spanish Soldiers.
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!

Cæsar. And that were shame! Go to! Assist in their conversion.

[The Soldiers disperse; many quit the Church, others enter. Cæsar. 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.

Soldier. She's mine.

Another Soldier (opposing the former).
You lie, I track'd her first; and, were she
The Pope's niece, I'll not yield her.
[They fight.
Third Soldier (advancing towardsOlimpia).
You may settle

Your claims; I'll make mine good.
Olimpia. Infernal slave!
You touch me not alive.

Third Soldier. Alive or dead!
Olimpia (embracing a massive crucifix).
Respect your God!

Third Soldier. Yes, when he shines in gold.
you but grasp your dowry.

Girl,

[As he advances, Olimpia, with a strong and sudden effort, casts down the crucifix; it strikes the Soldier, who falls.

Third Soldier. Oh, great God! Olimpia. Ah! now you recognize him. Third Soldier. 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.

Olimpia. 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 I would approach thee, worthy her, and him, and thee!

Enter ARNOLD.

Arnold. What do I see? Accursed Jackalls! Forbear!

Cæsar (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.

Arnold. With what weapon?

Soldier. The cross, beneath which he is

crushed; behold him

Lie there, more like a worm than man; she cast it

He speaks the truth; the heretics will bear Upon his head. The best away.

Arnold. Even so; there is a woman

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