Cæs.

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

Shall clang with our tread.

Oh, the Bourbon! the Bourbon ! 1
The Bourbon for aye!

Of our song bear the burden!
And fire, fire away!

With Spain for the vanguard,

Our varied host comes;
And next to the Spaniard
Beat Germany's drums;
And Italy's lances

Are couched at their mother;
But our leader from France is,
Who warred with his brother.

Oh, the Bourbon ! the Bourbon !
Sans country or home,

We'll follow the Bourbon,

To plunder old Rome.

An indifferent song

For those within the walls, methinks, to hear.

150

160

170

Arn. Yes, if they keep to their chorus. But here comes The general with his chiefs and men of trust.

A goodly rebel.

Enter the Constable BOURBON "cum suis,” etc., etc.

Phil.

You are not cheerful?

Bourb.

How now, noble Prince,

Why should I be so?

Phil. Upon the eve of conquest, such as ours, Most men would be so.

i. The General with his men of confidence.—[MS.]

1. [Brantôme (Memoires, etc., 1722, i. 215) quotes a "chanson" of "Les soldats Espagnols" as they marched Romewards. "Calla calla Julio Cesar, Hannibal, y Scipion! Viva la fama de Bourbon."]

Bourb.

If I were secure ! Phil. Doubt not our soldiers.

adamant,

Were the walls of

They'd crack them. Hunger is a sharp artillery.
Bourb. That they will falter is my least of fears.
That they will be repulsed, with Bourbon for
Their chief, and all their kindled appetites
To marshal them on—were those hoary walls
Mountains, and those who guard them like the gods
Of the old fables, I would trust my Titans ;-

But now

Phil.

180

They are but men who war with mortals. Bourb. True: but those walls have girded in great

ages,

And sent forth mighty spirits. The past earth
And present phantom of imperious Rome1
Is peopled with those warriors; and methinks
They flit along the eternal City's rampart,
And stretch their glorious, gory, shadowy hands,
And beckon me away!

Phil.
So let them! Wilt thou
Turn back from shadowy menaces of shadows?
Bourb. They do not menace me.

faced,

190

I could have

Methinks, a Sylla's menace; but they clasp,

And raise, and wring their dim and deathlike hands,
And with their thin aspen faces and fixed eyes

Fascinate mine. Look there!

Phil.

A lofty battlement.

Bourb.

Phil.

I look upon

200

And there!

Not even

A guard in sight; they wisely keep below,
Sheltered by the grey parapet from some
Stray bullet of our lansquenets, who might
Practise in the cool twilight.

Bourb.

You are blind.

Phil. If seeing nothing more than may be seen
Be so.
Bourb. A thousand years have manned the walls

i. And present phantom of that deathless world.-[MS,]

With all their heroes,-the last Cato 1 stands
And tears his bowels, rather than survive
The liberty of that I would enslave.
And the first Cæsar with his triumphs flits
From battlement to battlement.

Phil.

Then conquer

The walls for which he conquered and be greater!
Bourb. True: so I will, or perish.

Phil.

In such an enterprise to die is rather

You can not.

The dawn of an eternal day, than death.

210

[Count ARNOLD and CÆSAR advanc. Cæs. And the mere men-do they, too, sweat beneath The noon of this same ever-scorching glory?

Bourb.

Ah!

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.

Bourb. And if I do, there will not be a labourer More forward, Hunchback!

Cæs.

You may well say so,

For you have seen that back-as general,

Placed in the rear in action-but your foes
Have never seen it.

Bourb.

That's a fair retort,

For I provoked it :-but the Bourbon's breast
Has been, and ever shall be, far advanced
In danger's face as yours, were you the devil.
Cas. And if I were, I might have saved myself
The toil of coming here.

Phil.
Cæs.

Why so?

One half

220

230

1. [When the Uticans decided not to stand a siege, but to send deputies to Cæsar, Cato determined to put an end to his life rather than fall into the hands of the conqueror. Accordingly, after he had retired to rest he stabbed himself under the breast, and when the physician sewed up the wound, he thrust him away, and plucked out his own bowels. Plutarch's Lives, Langhorne's Translation, 1838, p. 553.]

Of your brave bands of their own bold accord
Will go to him, the other half be sent,
More swiftly, not less surely.

Arnold, your

Slight crooked friend's as snake-like in his words

Bourb.

As his deeds.

Cas.

Your Highness much mistakes me.

The first snake was a flatterer-I am none;

And for my deeds, I only sting when stung.

240

Bourb. You are brave, and that's enough for me; and

quick

In speech as sharp in action-and that's more.

I am not alone the soldier, but the soldiers'

Comrade.

Cæs. They are but bad company, your Highness; And worse even for their friends than foes, as being More permanent acquaintance.

Phil.

How now, fellow !

Thou waxest insolent, beyond the privilege

Of a buffoon.

Cas.

You mean I speak the truth.

I'll lie-it is as easy: then you'll praise me

Let him alone; he 's brave, and ever has

250

Been first, with that swart face and mountain shoulder,

In field or storm, and patient in starvation;

And for his tongue, the camp is full of licence,
And the sharp stinging of a lively rogue

i.

Is, to my mind, far preferable to
The gross, dull, heavy, gloomy execration
Of a mere famished sullen grumbling slave,
Whom nothing can convince save a full meal,
And wine, and sleep, and a few Maravedis,
With which he deems him rich.

Cas.

It would be well

If the earth's princes asked no more.
Bourb.

Be silent!

260

Cas. Aye, but not idle. Work yourself with words! i

i. Of a mere starving --[MS.]

You have few to speak.

Phil.

What means the audacious prater?

Philibert !

Cas. To prate, like other prophets.
Bourb.

Why will you vex him? Have we not enough
To think on? Arnold! I will lead the attack
To-morrow.

Arn. I have heard as much, my
Bourb. And you will follow?
Arn.

Lord.

Since I must not lead.

Bourb. 'Tis necessary for the further daring
Of our too needy army, that their chief

Plant the first foot upon the foremost ladder's
First step.

Cæs.

Upon its topmost, let us hope:

So shall he have his full deserts.

Bourb.

The world's

Great capital perchance is ours to-morrow.
Through every change the seven-hilled city hath
Retained her sway o'er nations, and the Cæsars
But yielded to the Alarics, the Alarics
Unto the pontiffs. Roman, Goth, or priest,
Still the world's masters! Civilised, barbarian,
Or saintly, still the walls of Romulus

Have been the circus of an Empire. Well!

'Twas their turn-now 'tis ours; and let us hope That we will fight as well, and rule much better.

270

280

Cas. No doubt, the camp's the school of civic rights. What would you make of Rome ?

That were not soldier-like. 'Tis for the general

i. First City rests upon to-morrow's action.—[MS.]