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Ay, did he so?

The City.-Combats between the Besiegers and Besieged Then he hath carved his monument. in the streets.-Inhabitants flying in confusion.

Enter CESAR.


I cannot find my hero; he is mix'd
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 doff'd their hats, 't would 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


He comes,


May live to carve your better's.


I yet

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.


How farest thou? Thou hast a taste, methinks, Of red Bellona's banquet.

ARNOLD (staggers).

"T is a scratch.

Lend me thy scarf. He shall not 'scape me thus.

Hand in hand with the mild twins-Gore and Glory. Where is it?
Holla! hold, count!


Away! they must not rally.


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.


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.


A precious sample of humanity!

Well, his blood's up, and if a little's shed,.

"T will serve to curb his fever.



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[ARNOLD engages with a Roman, who retires towards Worth wrestling for, I may be found a Milo.

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And will you not avenge me?


Not I! You know that "vengeance is the Lord's :" You see he loves no interlopers.

LUTHERAN (dying).


Had I but slain him, I had gone on high,
Crown'd 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 sackcloth
And ashes!
[The Lutheran dies.


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.


Now, priest! now, soldier! the two great professions
Ha! right nobly battled!
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.



He hath escaped!


They have barr'd the narrow passage up, And it is clogg'd with dead even to the door.

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I am glad he hath escaped: he may thank me for 't
In part. I would not have his bulls abolish'd-
"T were 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 Soldiery. 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!


By holy Peter! He speaks the truth; the heretics will bear The best away.

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While they are but its bubbles, ignorant
That foam is their foundation.

So, another !

Of those dishevell'd locks, I would have thinn'd
Your ranks more than the enemy. Away!
Ye jackals! gnaw the bones the lion leaves,

Enter OLIMPIA, flying from the pursuit-She springs But not even these till he permits.

She's mine.

upon the Altar.


ANOTHER SOLDIER (opposing the former).

You lie, I track'd her first; and, were she

The pope's niece, I'll not yield her.

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ARNOLD (cuts him down). Mutineer! [They fight. Rebel in hell-you shall obey on earth!

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[The Soldiers assault ARNOLD.


Come on! I'm glad on 't! I will show you, slaves,
How you should be commanded, and who led you
First o'er the wall you were as shy to scale,
Until I waved my banners from its height,
As you are bold within it.

[ARNOLD mows down the foremost; the rest throw
down their arms.


Mercy! mercy!


Then learn to grant it. Have I taught you who
Led you o'er Rome's eternal battlements?


We saw it, and we know it; yet forgive
A moment's error in the heat of conquest-
The conquest which you led to.


Get you hence! Hence to your quarters! you will find them fix'd In the Colonna palace.

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Welcome such a death!

ARNOLD (to the soldiers).

Leave your arms; ye have no further need Of such: the city's render'd. And mark well You keep your hands clean, or I'll find out a stream Would take. Great God! through thy redeeming Son, As red as Tiber now runs, for your baptism.

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I judge thee by thy mates;
It is for God to judge thee as thou art.
I see thee purple with the blood of Rome;
Take mine,
't is all thou e'er shalt have of me!
And here, upon the marble of this temple,
Where the baptismal font baptized me God's,
I offer him a blood less holy

But not less pure (pure as it left me then,

A redeem'd infant) than the holy water
The saints have sanctified!

[OLIMPIA waves her hand to ARNOLD with disdain, and

dashes herself on the pavement from the Altar.

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As much

As dust can.


Then she is dead!


Bah! bah! You are so,


Thou! but oh, save her!

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And do not know it. She will come to life-
Such as you think so, such as you now are;
But we must work by human means.

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As softly as they bear the dead,
Perhaps because they cannot feel the jolting.

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The spirit of her life
Is yet within her breast, and may revive.
Count! count! I am your servant in all things,
And this is a new office:-'t is not oft

I am employ'd in such; but you perceive
How staunch a friend is what you call a fiend.
On earth you have often only fiends for friends.
Now I desert not mine. Soft! bear her hence,
The beautiful half-clay, and nearly spirit!

I am almost enamour'd of her, as
Of old the angels of her earliest sex.

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The morning-star of all the flowers,

The pledge of daylight's lengthen'd hours;
Nor, 'midst the roses, e'er forget
The virgin, virgin violet.

Enter CESAR.

CESAR (singing).

The wars are all over,

Our swords are all idle, The steed bites the bridle, The casque 's on the wall. There's rest for the rover;

But his armour is rusty,

And the veteran grows crusty, As he yawns in the hall.

He drinks-but what's drinking?

A mere pause from thinking!

No bugle awakes him with life and death cali.


But the hound bayeth loudly,

The boar's in the wood, And the falcon longs proudly

To spring from her hood. On the wrist of the noble,

She sits like a crest, And the air is in trouble With birds from their nest.


Oh! shadow of glory!

Dim image of war!
But the chase hath no story,

Her hero no star,

Since Nimrod, the founder

Of empire and chase,
Who made the woods wonder,

And quake for their race,
When the lion was young,

In the pride of his might, Then 't was sport for the strong To embrace him in fight;

To go forth, with a pine

For a spear, 'gainst the mammoth, Or strike through the ravine

At the foaming behemoth; While man was in stature

As towers in our time, The first-born of Nature, And, like her, sublime!


But the wars are over, The spring is come; The bride and her lover

Have sought their home: They are happy, and we rejoice; Let their hearts have an echo in every voice! [Exeunt the Peasantry, singing.

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