From the red earth, like Adam, 1 As the being who made him, Till the rose in his check Now turn into eyes! And thou, sunshiny water, Of blood take the guise! Let these hyacinth boughs Be his long flowing hair, As thou wavest in air! Of mould, in which grew The lily-root surest, And drank the best dew! Let his limbs be the lightest. Which clay can compound, And his aspect the brightest On earth to be found! Elements, near me, Be mingled and stirr'd, Know me, and hear me, And leap to my word! Sunbeams, awaken This earth's animation! "T is done! He hath taken His stand in creation! Clay! not dead, but soul-less! Though no man would choose thee, An immortal no less Deigns not to refuse thee. Clay thou art; and unto spirit All clay is of equal merit. Fire without 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: Fire the only element Where nor fish, beast, bird, nor worm, But must with thyself be blent: And Destruction's threaten'd son, Life in what lies in my view Stiff and cold! His resurrection rests with me and you! Arn. (in his new form). Oh! horrible! [thou? I merely shudder. Where is fled the shape Stran. To the world of shadows. But let us thread the present. Whither wilt thou? Arn. Must thou be my companion? Stran. Your betters keep worse company. Arn. Wherefore not? My betters! Stran. Oh! you wax proud, I see, of your new form: I'm glad of that. Ungrateful too! That's well; Is thickest, that I may behold it in Stran. Where the world That's to say, where there is war And woman in activity. Let's see! Spain-Italy-the new Atlantic world— Afric, with all its Moors. In very truth, There is small choice: the whole race are just now Tugging as usual at each other's hearts. Arn. I have heard great things of Rome. Stran. A goodly choiceAnd scarce a better to be found on earth, Since Sodom was put out. The field is wide too; For now the Frank, and Hun, and Spanish scion Of the old Vandals are at play along The sunny shores of the world's garden. Arn. Shall we proceed? Stran. How Like gallants, on good coursers. What ho! my chargers! Never yet were better, Since Phaeton was upset into the Po. Who bears the golden horn, and wears such bright Stran. I have ten thousand names, and twice As many attributes; but as I wear A human shape, will take a human name. Arn. More human than the shape (though it was mine once) I trust. [steed Arn. Or in an order for a battle-field. More knows whom he must bear ; In the wave he will not sink, Nor pause at the brook's side to drink; In the combat he'll not faint! On the stones he will not stumble, Tine nor toil shall make him humble; But be winged as a griffin, Only flying with his feet: And will not such a voyage be sweet? Shall our bonny black horses skim over the ground! Cas. You are well enter'd now. Arn. Ay; but my path Has been o'er carcasses: mine eyes are full Of blood. Cæs. Then wipe them, and see clearly. Why! Thou art a conqueror; the chosen knight And free companion of the gallant Bourbon, Late constable of France: and now to be Lord of the city which hath been earth's lord Under its emperors, and-changing sex, Not sceptre, an hermaphrodite of empireLady of the old world. Cæs. Your obedient humble servant. Arn. Say master rather. Thou hast lured me on, Through scenes of blood and lust, till I am here. Cas. And where wouldst thou be? Arn. Oh, at peace-in peace. Cas. And where is that which is so? From the star Of life. The planet wheels till it becomes The stars, goes out. The poor worm winds its way, But still, like them, must live and die, the subject Of fix'd necessity: against her edict Rebellion prospers not. I saw him. Thus Cæs. Arn. You! Cas. Yes, sir. You forget I am or was Spirit, till I took up with your cast shape And a worse name. I'm Cæsar and a hunchback Now. Well the first of Cæsars was a bald-head, And loved his laurels better as a wig (So history says) than as a glory. 1 The world runs on, but we'll be merry still. I saw your Romulus (simple as I am) Slay his own twin, quickborn of the same womb, Because he leapt a ditch ('t was then no wall, Whate'er it now be); and Rome's earliest cement Was brother's blood; and if its native blood Be spilt till the choked Tiber be as red As c'er 'twas yellow, it will never wear The deep hue of the ocean and the earth, Which the great robber sons of fratricide Have made their never-ceasing scene of slaughter For ages. Arn. But what have these done, their far Remote descendants, who have lived in peace, The peace of heaven, and in her sunshine of Piety? Cas. And what had they done, whom the old Romans o'erswept ? — Hark! Arn. They are soldiers singing A reckless roundelay, upon the eve swans ? They are black ones, to be sure. What? The crucifix Arn. I see, too? Cæs. Above, and many altar shrines below. Also some culverins upon the walls, Arn. Cas. The city, or the amphitheatre ? So, you are learn'd, In my grammar, certes. I Was educated for a monk of all times, And once I was well versed in the forgotten Etruscan letters, and—were I so minded — Could make their hieroglyphics plainer than Your alphabet. Arn. And wherefore do you not? Cas. It answers better to resolve the alphabet Back into hieroglyphics. Like your statesman, And prophet, pontiff, doctor, alchymist, Philosopher, and what not, they have built More Babels, without new dispersion, than The stammering young ones of the flood's dull ooze, Who fail'd and fled each other. Why? why, marry, Because no man could understand his neighbour. They are wiser now, and will not separate For nonsense. Nay, it is their brotherhood, Their Shibboleth, their Koran, Talmud, their Cabala; their best brick-work, wherewithal They build more Arn. (interrupting him). Oh, thou everlasting Cæs. Song of the Soldiers within. The black bands came over The Alps and their snow; With Bourbon, the rover, They pass'd the broad Po. We have beaten all foemen, We have captured a king, We have turn'd back on no men, Though penny less all, We'll have one more endeavour At yonder old wall. With the Bourbon we'll gather At day-dawn before The gates, and together Or break or climb o'er The wall: on the ladder As mounts each firm foot, Our shout shall grow gladder, And death only be mute. With the Bourbon we'll mount o'er 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, Her streets shall be gory, And her temples so hoary Shall clang with our tread. Oh, the Bourbon! the Bourbon ! Of our song bear the burden! Beat Germany's drums; And Italy's lances Are couch'd at their mother; Who warr'd with his brother. To plunder old Rome. An indifferent song In such an enterprise to die is rather The dawn of an eternal day, than death. [Count ARNOLD and CÆSAR advance. Cas. And the mere men-do they too sweat beneath The noon of this same ever-scorching glory? Ah! Bourb. Welcome the bitter hunchback! and his master, The beauty of our host, and brave as beauteous, And generous as lovely. We shall find Work for you both ere morning. Cæs. You will find, So please your highness, no less for yourself. For you have seen that back -as general, also by the king, he transferred his services to the Emperor Charles V.] Slight crooked friend's as snake-like in his words Cæs. In speech as sharp in action-and that's more. Ces. They are but bad company, your highness: And worse even for their friends than foes, as being More permanent acquaintance. [der, Been first, with that swart face and mountain shoul- It would be well Be silent! Retain'd her sway o'er nations, and the Cæsars, What would you make of Rome ? Cæs. In Alaric's time? Well! That which it was. No, slave in the first Cæsar's, And kings! Whose name you bear like other curs Cæs. "Tis a great name for blood-hounds. Bourb. There's a demon In that fierce rattle-snake thy tongue. Wilt never Be serious? Cas. On the eve of battle, no; That were not soldier-like. "Tis for the general Takes care of us. Keep thought aloof from hosts! You may sneer, since 'Tis lucky for you that you fight no worse for 't. Cæs. I thank you for the freedom; 'tis the only 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. Is yours, as in the field. Bourb. Prince my service In both we prize it, To follow glory with the Bourbon. And yours will be a post of trust at daybreak. Good night! Arn. (to CÆSAR). Prepare our armour for the assault, And wait within my tent. [Exeunt BOURBON, ARNOLD, PHILIBERT, SC. Cæs. (solus). Within thy tent! Think'st thou that I pass from thee with my presence? Or that this crooked coffer, which contain'd Thy principle of life, is aught to me Except a mask? And these are men, forsooth! The power of thought. It is a stubborn substance, Ever relapsing into its first elements. Well! I must play with these poor puppets: 'tis [Exit CESAR |