« 前へ次へ »
Invest thee with his form?
Which shines from him, and yet is but the Aashing
Emanation of a thing more glorious still.
Was he c'er human only ?
STRANGER. I will look further.
Let the earth speak, [The Shade of Alcibiades disappears. If there be atoms of him left, or even STRANGER.
Of the more solid gold that form’d his urn.
Who was this glory of mankind ?
The shame The splay feet and low stature! I had better Of Greece in peace, her thunderbolt in warRemain that which I am.
Demetrius the Macedonian, and
Taker of cities.
Yet one shadow more.
STRANGER (addressing the Shador). But you reject him?
Get thee to Lamia's lap!
[The Shade of Demetrius Poliorcetes vanishes If his form could bring me
I'll fit you still,
Fear not, my hunchback. If the shadow of
That which existed please not your nice taste, Easier in such a form, or in your own.
I'll animate the ideal marble, till
Your soul be reconciled to her new garment.
Content ! I will fix here.
I must commend Be air, thou hemlock-drinker! Your choice. The god-like son of the sea-goddess, (The Shadow of Socrates disappears : another rises. The unshorn boy of Peleus, with his locks
As beautiful and clear as the amber waves What's here? whose broad brow and whose curly beard of rich Pactolus rolld o'er sands of gold, And manly aspect look like Hercules,
Softened by intervening crystal, and Save that his jocund eye hath more of Bacchus Rippled like flowing waters by the wind, Than the sad purger of the infernal world,
All vow'd to Sperchius as they were-behold thern ! Leaning dejected on his club of conquest,
And him—as he stood by Polyxena, As if he knew the worthlessness of those
With sanction'd and with soften'd love, before For whom he had fought.
The altar, gazing on his Trojan bride,
With some remorse within for Hector slain It was the man who lost And Priam weeping, mingled with deep passion The ancient world for love.
For the sweet downcast virgin, whose young hand
Trembled in his who slew her brother. So
I cannot blame him, He stood i' the temple! Look upon him as Since I have risk'd my soul, because I find not Greece look'd her last upon her best, the instant That which he exchanged the earth for.
Ere Paris' arrow flew.
I gaze upon him as
Envelop mine. No. As you leave me choice, I am difficult,
STRANGER. If but to see the heroes I should ne'er
You have done well. The greatest Have seen else on this side of the dim shore
Deformity should only barter with
The extremest beauty, if the proverb's true
Of mortals, that extremes meet.
Hence, Triumvir ! 1 hy Cleopatra 's waiting.
Come ! Be quit!
I [The Shade of Antony disappears : another rises.
As a youthful beauty,
Before her glass. You both see what is not,
But dream it is what must be. Blooming and bright, with golden hair, and stature,
ARNOLD. If not more high than mortal, yet immortal
Must I wait? In all that nameless bearing of his limbs, Which he wears as the sun his rays—a something No; that were pity. But a word or two:
His stature is twelve cubits: would you so far
Glorious ambition ! I love thee most in dwarfs ! A mortal of Philistine stature would have gladly pared His own Goliath down to a slight David; But thou, my manikin, wouldst soar a show Rather than hero. Thou shalt be indulged, If such be thy desire; and yet, by being A little less removed from present men In figure, thou canst sway them more; for all Would rise against thee now, as if to hunt A new-found mammoth; and their cursed engines, Their culverins and so forth, would find way Through our friend's armour there, with greater ease Than the adulterer's arrow through his heel Which Thetis had forgotten to baptize
Had she exposed me, like the Spartan, ere
Been a clod of the valley,-happier nothing Than what I am. But even thus, the lowest, Ugliest, and meanest of mankind, what courage And perseverance could have done, perchance,
Had inade me something—as it has made heroes or the same mould as mine. You lately saw me
Master of my own life, anıl quick to quit it; And he who is so is the niaster of Whatever dreads to die.
Decide between What you have been, or will be.
I ask not For valour, since deformity is aaring. It is its essence to o’ertake mankind By heart and soul, and make itself the equalAy, the superior of the rest. There is A spur in its halt movements, to become Al that the others cannoi, in such things As still are free to both, to compensate For stepdame Nature's avarice at first. They woo with fearless deeds the smiles of fortune, And oft, like Timour the lame Tartar, wiu them.
Who slew him, that of Paris :-or-still higher-
Less will content me; For I too love a change.
Your aspect is Dusky, but not uncomely.
If I chose,
Yes. You Shall change with Thetis' son, and I with Bertha Your mother's ofispring. People have their tastes You have yours-1 mine.
Had no power presented me The possibility of change, I would Have done the best which spirit may, to make Jis way, with all deformity's dull, deadly, Discouraging weight upon me, like a mountain, In feeling, on my heart as on my shouldersA hateful and unsightly mole-hill to The eyes of happier man. I would have look'd On beauty in that sex which is the type Of all we know or dream of beautiful Beyond the world they brighten, with a sighNoi of love, but despair; nor sought to win, Though to a heart all love, what could not love me In turn, because of this vile crooked clog, Which makes me lonely. Nay, I could have borne It all, had not my mother spurn’d me from her. The she-bear licks her cubs into a sort Ol' shape :-my dam beheld my shape was hopeless.
Even so. (The Stranger takes soma earth and moulele
it along the turf; and then addresses 'ro
Phantom of Achilles.
Of Thetis's boy!
Whose grass grows o'er Trov:
From the red earth, like Adam,'
It hath sustain'd your soul full many a day.
Ay, as the dunghill may conceal a gem
Which is now set in gold, as jewels should be.
But if I give another form, it must be
By fair exchange, not robbery. For they
Who make men without women's aid, have long
Had patents for the same, and do not love
Your interlopers. The devil may take men,
Not make them,—though he reap the benefit
of the original workmanship :-and therefore
Some one must be found to assume the shape
You have quitted.
Who would do so?
That I know noi,
And therefore I must.
I said it, ere
You inhabited your present dome of beauty.
True. I forget all things in the new joy
of this immortal change.
In a few moments
I will be as you were, and you shall see
Yourself for ever by you, as your shadow.
I would be spared this.
But it cannot be.
What! shrink already, being what you are,
Do as thou wilt. part by part
, as the figure was formed from STRANGER (to the late form of ARNOLD, extended on the earth.
the earth). ARNOLD (in his new form).
Clay! not dead, but soulless! I love, and I shall be beloved ! Oh life!
Though no man would choose thee, At last I feel thee! Glorious spirit !
An immortal no less
Deigns not to refuse thee.
Clay thou art: and unto spirit
All clay is of equal merit. Your hump, and lump, and clod of ugliness,
Fire! without which nought can live;
Fire! but in which nought can live,
Save the fabled salamander,
Or immortal souls which wander,
Praying what doth not forgive,
Howling for a drop of water,
Burning in a quenchless lot : It must be peace time, and no better fare
Fire! the only element
Where nor fish, beast, bird, nor worm.
Save the worm which dieth not,
Can preserve a moment's form,
But must with thyself be blent:
Fire ! man's safeguard and his slaughter
Fire ! creation's first-born daughter,
And destruction's threaten's son,
When Heaven with the world hath don
Fire! assist me to renew 1 Adam means “red earth," from which the first man wan Torined
Life in what lies in my view
Stiff and cold!
A nobler breed. Match me in Barbary,
Or your Kochlani race of Araby,
The mighty stream, which volumes high pears: the body rises.
From their proud nostrils, burns the very air ;
And sparks of flame, like dancing fire-flies, wheel Oh! horrible !
Around their manes, as common insects swarm
Mount, my lord,
They and I are your servitors.
Our dark-eyed pages—what may be their names ? To the world of shadows.
STRANGER. But let us thread the present. Whither wilt thou ? You shall baptize them.
Must thou be my companion ?
Whal! in holy water ?
Wherefore not ? Why not? The deeper sinner, better saint.
They are beautiful, and cannot, sure, be demons?
True; the devil's always ugly; and your beauty Oh! you wax proud, I see, of your new form:
Is never diabolical.
ARNOLD. I'm glad of that. Ungrateful too! That's well;
I'll call hirn You improve apace :-(wo changes in an instant, And you are are old in the world's ways already.
Who bears the golden horn, and wears such bright But bear with me: indeed you 'll find me useful
And blooming aspect, Huon; for he looks Upon your pilgriinage. But come, pronounce
Like to the lovely boy lost in the forest,
And never found till now. And for the other
But looks as serious though serene as night,
He shall be Memnon, from the Ethiop king,
Whose statue turns a harper once a-day. lis working.
I have ten thousand names, and twice And woman in activity. Let's see !
As many attributes ; but as I wear
A human shape, will take a human name.
ARNOLD There is small choice: the whule race are just now
More human than the shape (though it was mine once! Tugging as usual at each others' hearts.
Then call me Cæsar.
Why, that name
Belongs to empires, and has been but borne
And therefore fittest for
The devil in disguise—since so you deem me,
Unless you call me pope instead.
We'll add a title
" Count Arnold :" it hath no ungracious sound, Enter two Pagrs, with four coal-black Horses. And will look well upon a billet-doux.
Jor in an order for a battle-field.
CÆSAR. To horse! to horse! my coal-black steed
Your obedient, humble servant. Paws the ground and snuffs the air !
Say master rather. Thou hast lured me on,
Through scenes of blood and lust, till I am here. On the hill he will not tire,
And where wouldst thou be?
Oh, at peace--in peace!
And where is that which is so? From the star In the race he will not pant,
To the winding worm, all life is motion, and In the combat he 'll not faint ;
In life commotion is the extremest point On the stones he will not stumble,
Of life. The planet wheels till it becomes Time nor toil shall make him humble:
A comet, and, destroying as it sweeps In the stall he will not stiffen,
The stars, goes out. The poor worin winds its way But be winged as a griffin,
Living upon the death of other things, Only flying with his feet:
But still, like them, must live and Jie, the subject And will not such a voyage be sweet?
or something which has made it live and die. Merrily! merrily! never unsound,
You must obey what all ot.ey, tie rule
And when it prospers
'T is no rebellion.
Will it prosper now?
The Bourbon hath given orders for the assault,
And by the dawn there will be work.
And shall the city yield ? I see the giant
Abode of the true God, and his true saini,
That sky whence Christ ascended from the cross,
Which his blood made a badge of glory and
God and God's son, man's sole and only refuge). And free companion of the gallant Bourbon,
CÆSAR. Late constable of France; and now to be
'Tis there, and shall be.
Above, and many altar shriries below,
And harquebusses, and what not, besides
The men who are to kindle them to death
And those scarce mortal arches, Because you know no better than the dull
Pile above pile of everlasting wall, And dubious notice of your eyes and ears.
The theatre where emperors and their subjects
(Those subjects Romans) stood at gaze upon I'll trust them.
The battles of the monarchs of the wild
And wood, the lion and his lusky rebels
Of the then untamed desert, brought to joust
In the arena (as right well they mighi,
When they had left no human foc unconquer'd), Dog!
Made even the forest pay its tribute of
Life to their amphitheatre, as well
As Dacia men to die the eternal death
For a sole instant's pastime, and “Pass on
To a new gladiator !”—Must il fall?