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I saw your Romulus (simple as I am)
Song of the Soldiers within. Slay his own twin, quick-born of the same
The Black Bands came over womb, Pecause he leapta ditch ('twas then no wall,
The Alps and their snow,
With Bourbon, the rover, Whate'er it now be); and Rome's earliest cement
They past the broad Pó. Was brother's blood; and if its native blood
We have beaten all foemen, Be spilt till the choked Tiber be as red
We have captured a king,
We have turned back on no men, As e'er 'twas yellow, it will never wear The deep hue of the Ocean and the Earth,
And so let us sing!
Here's the Bourbon for ever!
Though penniless all,
We'll have one more endeavour For ages.
At yonder old wall. Arnold. But what have these done, their far
With the Bourbon we'll gather Remote descendants, who have lived in
At day-dawn before
The gates, and together
Or break or climb o'er
The wall: on the ladder
As mounts each firm foot, the old
Our shout shall grow gladder, Romans o'erswept?–Hark!
And death only be mute. Arnold. They are soldiers singing
With the Bourbon we'll mount o'er A reckless roundelay, upon the eve
The walls of old Rome,
And who then shall count o'er
The spoils of each dome ?
Up! up! with the lily!
And down with the keys!
In old Rome, the Seven-hilly,
We'll revel at ease.
Her streets shall be gory,
Her Tiber all red,
And her temples so hoary Etruscan letters, and -- were I so minded
Shall clang with our tread. Could make their hieroglyphics plainer than
Oh, the Bourbon! the Bourbon ! Yoar alphabet.
The Bourbon for aye ! Arnold. And wherefore do you not?
Of our song bear the burthen!
And fire, fire away ! Cæsar. It answers better to resolve the alphabet
With Spain for the vanguard,
Our varied host comes ? Back into hieroglyphics. Like your states
And next to the Spaniard
Beat Germany's drums ;
Are couched at their mother; The stammering young ones of the Flood's
But our leader from France is, dull ooze,
Who warred with his brother. Who failed and fled each other. Why?
Oh, the Bourbon! the Bourbon! why, marry,
Sans country or home,
We'll follow the Bourbon, Because no man could understand his neighbour.
To plunder old Rome. They are wiser now, and will not separate
Cæsar. An indifferent song For nonsense. Nay, it is their brotherhood, For those within the walls,methinks to hear. Their Shibboleth, their Koran, Talmud, their
Arnold. Yes, if they keep to their chorus.
But here comes Cabala ; their best brick-work wherewithal
The General with his chiefs and men of trust. They build moreArnold ( interrupting him). Oh, thou A goodly rebel! everlasting sneerer!
Enter the Constable BOURBON, cum suis. Be silent! How the soldiers' rough strain
Philibert. How now, noble Prince, Softened by distance to a hymn-like cadence! You are not cheerful? Listen!
Bourbon. Why should I be so ? Cæsar. Yes. I have heard the Angels sing. Phil. Upon the eve of conquest, such Arnold. And Demons howl.
as ours, Casar. And Man too. Let us listen: Most inen would be so. I love all inusie.
Bourbon. If I were secure!
Phil. Doubt not our soldiers. Were the Bourbon. Ah! walls of adamant,
Welcomc the bitter Hunchback! And his They'd crack them. Hunger is a sharp Master, artillery.
The beauty of our host, and brave as beauBourbon. That they will falter is my teous, least of fears.
And generous as lovely. We shall find That they will be repulsed, with Bourbon for Work for you both ere morning. Their chief, and all their kindled appetites Cæsar. You will find, To marshal them on-were those hoary walls So please your Highness, no less for yourself. Mountains, and those who guard them like Bourbon. And if I do, there will not be the Gods
a labourer of the old fables, I would trust my Titans;- More forward, Hunchback! But now
Cæsar. You may well say so, Phil. They are but men who war with For you have seen that back-as general, mortals.
Placed in the rear in action-bat your foes Bourbon. True: but those walls have Have never seen it. girded in great ages,
Bourbon. That's a fair retort, And sent forth mighty spirits. The past earth For I provoked it:- but the Boarbon's breast And present Phantom of imperious Rome Has been, and ever shall be, far advanced Is peopled with those warriors; and methinks In danger's face as yours, were you the Deril. They flit along the eternal city's rampart, Cæsar. And if I were, I might have saved And stretch their glorious, gory, shadowy myself hands,
The toil of coming here. And beckon me away!
Phil. Why so ? Phil. So let thein! Wilt thou
Cæsar. One half Turn back from shadowy menaces of sha- Of your brave bands of their own bold accord dows?
Will go to him, the other half be sent, Bourbon. They do not menace me. 1 More swiftly, not less surely. could have faced,
Bourbon. Arnold, your Methinks, a Sylla's menace; but they clasp Slight crooked friend's as snake-like in his And raise, and wring their dim and death
words like bands,
As his deeds. And with their thin aspen faces and fixed eyes Cæsar. Your Highness much mistake me. Fascinate mine. Look there!
The first snake was a flatterer-I am none; Phil. I look upon
And for my deeds, I only sting when stung. A lofty battlement.
Bourbon. You are brave, and that's Bourbon. And there!
enough for me; and quick Phil. Not even
In speech as sharp in action -- and that's more. A guard in sight; they wisely keep below, I am not alone a soldier, but the soldiers' Sheltered by the grey parapet, from some Comrade. Stray bullet of our lansquenets, who might Casar. They are but bad company, Practise in the cool twilight.
your Highness; Bourbon. You are blind.
And worse even for their friends than foes, Phil. If seeing nothing more than may as being be seen
More permanent acquaintance.
Phil. How now, fellow! Bourbon. A thousand years have manned Thou waxest insolent, beyond the privilege the walls
Of a buffoon. With all their heroes, - the last Cato stands Cæsar. You mean, I speak the truth. And tears his bowels, rather than survive I'll lie-it is as easy: then you'll praise me The liberty of that I would enslave. For calling you a hero. And the first Cæsar with his triumphs flits Bourbon. Philibert! From battlement to battlement.
Let him alone; he's brave, and ever has Phil. Then conquer
Been first with that swart face and mounThe walls for which he conquered, and be tain-shoulder greater!
In field or storm, and patient in starvation; Bourbon. True: so I will, or perish. And for his tongue, the camp is full of Phil. You can not.
licence, In such an enterprise to die is rather And the sharp stinging of a lively rogue The dawn of an eternal day, than death. Is, to my mind, far preferable to
The gross, dull, heavy, gloomy execration Count ARNOLD and C.ESAR advance.
Of a mere famished,sullen,grumbling slave, Cæsar. And the mere men-do they too Whom nothing can convince save a full mral, sweat beneath
And wine, and sleep, and a few marav edis. The noon of this same ever-scorching glory? | With which he deems him rich.
Casar. It would be well
Cæsar. I thank you for the freedom; If the Earth's princes asked no more,
'tis the only Bourbon. Be silent!
Pay I have taken in your Highness' service. Casar. Aye, but not idle. Work your- Bourbon. Well, sir, to-morrow you shall self with words!
pay yourself. You have few to speak.
Look on those towers; they hold my treasury.
Arnold. Prince! my service
And yours will be a post of trust at dayArnold. I have heard as much, my Lord.
break. Bourbon. And you will follow ?
Cæsar. And mine? Arnold. Since I must not lead.
Bourbon. To follow glory with the Bourbon. 'Tis necessary for the further
Good night! of our too needy army, that their chief Arnold (to Cæsar). Prepare our armnar Plant the first foot upon the foremost ladder's for the assault, First step.
And wait within my tent. Cæsar. Upon its topmost, let us hope: (Exeunt Bourbon, Arnold, Philibert, etc. So shall he have his full deserts.
Cæsar (solus). Within thy tent! Bourbon. The world's
Thinkst thou that I pass from thee with Great capital perchance is ours to-morrow.
my presence ? Through every change the seven - hilled Or that this crooked coffer, which contained city hath
Thy principle of life, is aught to me Retained her sway o'er nations, and the Except a mask? And these are Men, forsonth! Cæsars
Heroes and chiefs, the flower of Adam's But yielded to the Alarics, the Alarics
bastards! Unto the Pontiffs. Roman, Goth, or Priest, This is the consequence of giving Matter Still the world's masters! Civilized, Barba- | The power of Thought. It is a stubhorn rian,
substance, Or Saintly, still the walls of Romulus And thinks chaotically, as it acts, Have been the Circus of an Empire. Well! Ever relapsing into its first elemente. 'Twas their turn-now 'tis ours; and let us Well! I must play with these poor puphope
pets : 'tis That we will fight as well, and rule much The Spirit's pastime in his idler hours. better.
When I grow weary of it, I have business Cæsar. No doubt, the camp's the school Amongst the stars, which these poor creaof civic rights.
tures deem What would you make of Rome?
Were made for them to look at. Twere Bourbon. That which it was.
a jest now Cæsar. In Alaric's time?
To bring one down amongst them,and set fire Bourbon. No, slave! In the first Cæsar's, Unto their ant-hill: how the pirmires then Whose name yon bear like other curs. Would scamper o'er the scalding soil, and, Cæsar. And kings.
ceasing Tis a great name for bloodhounds. From tearing down each others' nests, pipe Bourbon. There's a demon
forth In that fierce rattle-snake, thy tongue. One universal orison! Ha! ha! Wilt never
(Exit Cæsar. Be serious ?
Casar. On the eve of battle, no;-
to scale the walls; BOURBON, with a white Our tutelar deity, in a leader's shape, scarf over his armour, foremost. Takes care of us. Keep thought aloof from hosts!
Chorus of Spirits in the air. If the knaves take to thinking, you will have Tis the morn, but dim and dark. To crack those walls alone.
Whither flies the silent lark? Bourbon. You may sneer, since
Whither shrinks the clonded gan? 'Tis lucky for you that you fight no worse Is the day indeed begun? fort.
Nature's eye is melancholy
O'er the city high and holy:
Ronse thee! Rather give the porch But without there is a din
With thy own hand to thy torch, Should arouse the Saints within,
Than behold such hosts pollute And revive the heroic ashes
Your worst dwelling with their foof. Round which yellow Tiber dashes. Oh ye seren hills! awaken,
Ah! behold yon bleeding Spectre ! Ere your very base be shaken!
Nion's children sind no Hector;
Priam's offspring loved their brother ; Hearken to the steady stamp!
Roma's sire forgot his mother, Mars is in their every tramp!
When he slew his gallant twin, Not a step is out of tune,
With inexpiable sin.
See the giant-shadow stride
When he first o'erleapt thy wall,
Who to stop his steps are able ? Hearken to the armour's clank!
Stalking o'er thy highest dome, Look down o'er each frowning warrior, Remus claims his vengeance, Rome! How he glares upon the barrier: Look on each step of each ladder, Now they reach thee in their anger: As the stripes that streak an adder. Fire, and smoke, and hellish clangor
Are around thee, thou world's Wonder! Look upon the bristling wall,
Death is in thy walls and under. Mann'd without an interval!
Now the meeting steel first clashes ; Round and round, and tier on tier, Downward then the ladder crashes, Cannon's black mouth, shining spear,
With its iron load all gleaming, Lit match, bell-mouth'd musquetoon, Lying at its foot blaspheming! Gaping to be murderous soon.
Up again! for every warrior All the warlike gear of old,
Slain, another climbs the barrier. Mix'd with what we now behold,
Thicker grows the strife: thy ditches In this strife 'twixt old and new,
Europe's mingling gore enriches. Gather like a locusts' crew.
Rome! Although thy wall may perish, Shade of Remus! 'tis a time
Such manure thy fields will cherish, Awful as thy brother's crime!
Making gay the harvest-home; Christians war against Christ's shrine But thy hearths, alas! oh, Rome! Must its lot be like to thine ?
Yet be Rome amidst thine anguish,
Fight as thou wast wont to vanquish! Near- and near-nearer still, As the earthquake saps the hill,
Yet once more, ye old Penates! First with trembling, hollow motion, Let not your quenched hearths be Ate's! Like a scarce-awaken'd ocean,
Yet again, ye shadowy heroes, Then with stronger shock and louder, Yield not to these stranger Neroes! Till the rocks are crush'd to powder,- Though the Son who slew his mother, Onward sweeps the rolling host !
Shed Rome's blood, he was your brother : Heroes of the immortal boast!
'Twas the Roman carb'd the Roman :Mighty Chiefs! Eternal Shadows!
Brennus was a baffled foeman.
Mighty Gods of temples falling,
Show even Nature's self abhorrent.
But be still the Roman's Rome!
BOURBON, ARNOLD, CESAR, and others, Fight, like your first sire, each Roman!
arrive at the foot of the wall. ARNOLD IS Alaric was a gentle foeman,
about to plant his ladder. Match'd with Bourbon's black banditti ! Bourbon. Hold, Arnold: I am first Rouse thee, thou eternal City!
Arnold. Not so, my Lord.
Bourbon. Hold, sir, I charge you! Follow! Arnold. True. I'll weep hereafter. J am proud
[Arnold covers Bourbon's body with a of such a follower, but will brook no leader. mantle, and mounts the ladder, crying:
[ Bourbon plants his ladder, and The Bourbon ! Bourbon ! On boys! Rone begins to mount.
is ours! Now, boys! On! on!
Cæsar. Good night, Lord Constable! (A shot strikes him, and Bourbou falls.
thou wert a man. Cæsar. And off!
[Cæsar follows Arnold; they reach the Arnold. Eternal powers!
battlement; Arnold and Cæsar are The host will be appalled.—But vengeance!
struck down. vengeance!
A precious somerset! Is your Countship Bourbon. 'Tis nothing-lend me your
Arnold. No. (Remounts the ladder. (Bourbon takes Arnold by the hand Cæsar. A rare blood-hound, when his and rises; but as he puts his
own is heated ! foot on the step, falls again. And 'tis no boy's-play. Now he strikes them Arnold! I am sped.
down! Conceal my fall – all will go well – His hand is on the battlement—he grasps it conceal it!
As though it were an altar; now his foot Fling my cloak o'er what will be dust anon; Is on it, and - What have we here, a Roman? Let not the soldiers see it.
(A man falls. Arnold. You must be
The first bird of the covey! he has fall’n Removed; the aid of
On the outside of the nest. Why, how now, Bourbon. No, my gallant boy:
fellow ? Death is upon me.
But what is one life? The wounded Man. A drop of water! The Bourbon's spirit shall command them Casar. Blood's the only liquid still.
Nearer than Tiber. . Keep them yet ignorant that I am but clay, Wounded Man. I have died for Rome. Till they are conquerors then do as you
Cæsar. And so did Bourbon, in another Cæsar. Would not your Highness choose to kiss the cross ?
Oh these immortal mcn! and their great We have no priest here, but the hilt of sword
motives ! May serve instead :-it did the same for But I must after my young charge. He is Bayard.
By this time i' the forum. Charge! charge! Bourbon. Thou bitter slave! to name [Cæsar mounts the ladder; the Scene him at this time!
closes. But I deserve it. Arnold (to Cæsar). Villain, hold your SCENE 11.— The City. - Combats between peace!
the Besicgers and Besieged in the streels. Cæsar. What, when a Christian dies ? Inhabitants flying in confusion.
Shall I not offer
Cæsar. I cannot find my hero; he is 'Those eyes are glazing, which o'erlook'd mixed the world,
With the heroic crowd that now pursue And saw no equal.
The fugitives, or battle with the desperate. Bourbon. Arnold, shouldst thou see What have we here? A Cardinal or two France-But hark! hark! the assault grows That do not seem in love with martyrdom. warmer-Oh !
How the old red-shanks scamper! Could For but an hour, a minute more of life To die within the wall! Hence, Arnold! Their hose as they have doffed their hats, hence!
'twould be You lose time— they will conquer Rome A blessing, as a mark the less for plunder. without thee.
But let them fly, the crimson kennels now Arnold. And without thee!
Will not much stain their stockings, since Bourbon. Not so; I'll lead them still
Enter a party fighting - ARNOLD at the head Arnold. But I must not leave thee thus.
of the Besicgers. Bourbon. You must - farewell -Up! up!
the world is winning. (Bourbon dics. Hand in hand with the mild twing-Gore Cæsar (lo Arnold). Conne, Count, to And Glory. business.
Holla! hold, Count!