« AnteriorContinuar »
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.
I cannot find my hero; he is mix'd
Enter a party fighting.-ARNOLD at the head of the
May live to carve your better's.
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.
"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?
Away! they must not rally.
I tell thee, be not rash; a golden bridge
With aught of soul would combat if he were
A precious sample of humanity!
Well, his blood's up, and if a little's shed,.
"T will serve to curb his fever.
[ARNOLD engages with a Roman, who retires towards Worth wrestling for, I may be found a Milo.
And will you not avenge me?
Not I! You know that "vengeance is the Lord's :" You see he loves no interlopers.
Had I but slain him, I had gone on high,
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
He hath escaped!
They have barr'd the narrow passage up, And it is clogg'd with dead even to the door.
I am glad he hath escaped: he may thank me for 't
[To the Spanish Soldiery. Well, cut-throats!
What do you pause for? If you make not haste,
By holy Peter! He speaks the truth; the heretics will bear The best away.
While they are but its bubbles, ignorant
So, another !
Of those dishevell'd locks, I would have thinn'd
Enter OLIMPIA, flying from the pursuit-She springs But not even these till he permits.
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.
ARNOLD (cuts him down). Mutineer! [They fight. Rebel in hell-you shall obey on earth!
[The Soldiers assault ARNOLD.
Come on! I'm glad on 't! I will show you, slaves,
[ARNOLD mows down the foremost; the rest throw
Then learn to grant it. Have I taught you who
We saw it, and we know it; yet forgive
Get you hence! Hence to your quarters! you will find them fix'd In the Colonna palace.
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.
I judge thee by thy mates;
But not less pure (pure as it left me then,
A redeem'd infant) than the holy water
[OLIMPIA waves her hand to ARNOLD with disdain, and
dashes herself on the pavement from the Altar.
As dust can.
Then she is dead!
Bah! bah! You are so,
Thou! but oh, save her!
And do not know it. She will come to life-
As softly as they bear the dead,
The spirit of her life
I am employ'd in such; but you perceive
I am almost enamour'd of her, as
The morning-star of all the flowers,
The pledge of daylight's lengthen'd hours;
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!
Her hero no star,
Since Nimrod, the founder
Of empire and chase,
And quake for their race,
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.