DRAMATIS PERSONE.

STRANGER, afterwards CASAR.

ARNOLD.

BOURBON.

PHILIBERT.

CELLINI.

BERTHA.

OLIMPIA.

Spirits, Soldiers, Citizens of Rome, Priests, Peasants, &c.

THE

DEFORMED TRANSFORMED.

PART I. SCENE I.

À Forest

Enter ARNOLD and his mother BERTHA.

BERTHA.

OUT, hunchback!

ARNOLD.

I was born so, mother!

BERTHA.

Out!

Thou Incubus! Thou Nightmare! Of seven sons

The sole abortion!

ARNOLD.

Would that I had been so,

And never seen the light!

BERTHA.

I would so too!

But as thou hast-hence, hence-and do thy best.

That back of thine may bear its burden; 'tis
More high, if not so broad as that of others.

ARNOLD.

It bears its burden ;-but, my heart! Will it
Sustain that which you lay upon it, mother?
I love, or at the least, I loved you: nothing,
Save you, in nature, can love aught like me.
You nursed me-do not kill me!

BERTHA.

Yes I nursed thee,

Because thou wert my first-born, and I knew not

If there would be another unlike thee,

That monstrous sport of nature. But get hence,

And gather wood!

ARNOLD.

I will: but when I bring it,

Speak to me kindly.

Though my brothers are

So beautiful and lusty, and as free

As the free chase they follow, do not spurn me :

Our milk has been the same.

BERTHA.

As is the hedgehog's,

Which sucks at midnight from the wholesome dam

Of the young bull, until the milkmaid finds
The nipple next day sore and udder dry.
Call not thy brothers brethren! Call me not
Mother; for if I brought thee forth, it was
As foolish hens at times hatch vipers, by
Sitting upon strange eggs. Out, urchin, out!
Exit BERTHA.

ARNOLD (solus.)

Oh mother!-She is gone, and I must do
Her bidding;-wearily but willingly

I would fulfil it, could I only hope

A kind word in return. What shall I do?

[ARNOLD begins to cut wood: in doing this he wounds one of his hands.

My labour for the day is over now.

Accursed be this blood that flows so fast;

For double curses will be my meed now

At home. What home? I have no home, no kin,
No kind-not made like other creatures, or

To share their sports or pleasures. Must I bleed too
Like them? Oh that each drop which falls to earth
Would rise a snake to sting them, as they have stung me!
Or that the devil, to whom they liken me,
Would aid his likeness! If I must partake
His form, why not his power? Is it because
I have not his will too? For one kind word

From her who bore me, would still reconcile me
Even to this hateful aspect. Let me wash

The wound.

[ARNOLD goes to a spring and stoops to wash his hand: he starts back,

They are right; and Nature's mirror shews me

What she hath made me. I will not look on it

Again, and scarce dare think on't. Hideous wretch
That I am! The very waters mock me with
My horrid shadow-like a demon placed

Deep in the fountain to scare back the cattle

From drinking therein.

And shall I live on,

[He pauses.

A burden to the earth, myself, and shame
Unto what brought me into life? Thou blood,
Which flowest so freely from a scratch, let me
Try if thou wilt not in a fuller stream
Pour forth my woes for ever with thyself
On earth, to which I will restore at once
This hateful compound of her atoms, and
Resolve back to her elements, and take
The shape of any reptile save myself,
And make a world for myriads of new worms!
This knife! now let me prove if it will sever
This withered slip of nature's nightshade-my