The Works of Lord Byron - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Bourb._ Hold, Arnold! I am first.
_Arn._ Not so, my Lord.
_Bourb._ Hold, sir, I charge you! Follow! I am proud Of such a follower, but will brook no leader.
[BOURBON _plants his ladder, and begins to mount_.
Now, boys! On! on!
[_A shot strikes him, and_ BOURBON _falls_.
_Caes._ And off!
_Arn._ Eternal powers!
The host will be appalled,--but vengeance! vengeance!
_Bourb._ 'Tis nothing--lend me your hand.
[BOURBON _takes_ ARNOLD _by the hand, and rises; but as he puts his foot on the step, falls again_.
Arnold! I am sped.
Conceal my fall[241]--all will go well--conceal it!
Fling my cloak o'er what will be dust anon; 130 Let not the soldiers see it.
_Arn._ You must be Removed; the aid of----
_Bourb._ No, my gallant boy!
Death is upon me. But what is _one_ life?
The Bourbon's spirit shall command them still.
Keep them yet ignorant that I am but clay, Till they are conquerors--then do as you may.
_Caes._ Would not your Highness choose to kiss the cross?
We have no priest here, but the hilt of sword May serve instead:--it did the same for Bayard[242].
_Bourb._ Thou bitter slave! to name _him_ at this time! 140 But I deserve it.
_Arn._ (_to_ CaeSAR). Villain, hold your peace!
_Caes._ What, when a Christian dies? Shall I not offer A Christian "Vade in pace[243]?"
_Arn._ Silence! Oh!
Those eyes are glazing which o'erlooked the world, And saw no equal.
_Bourb._ Arnold, shouldst thou see France----But hark! hark! the a.s.sault grows warmer--Oh!
For but an hour, a minute more of life, To die within the wall! Hence, Arnold, hence!
You lose time--they will conquer Rome without thee.
_Arn._ And without _thee_.
_Bourb._ Not so; I'll lead them still 150 In spirit. Cover up my dust, and breathe not That I have ceased to breathe. Away! and be Victorious.
_Arn._ But I must not leave thee thus.
_Bourb._ You must--farewell--Up! up! the world is winning.
[BOURBON _dies_.
_Caes._ (_to_ ARNOLD). Come, Count, to business.
_Arn._ True. I'll weep hereafter.
[ARNOLD _covers_ BOURBON'S _body with a mantle, mounts the ladder, crying_
The Bourbon! Bourbon! On, boys! Rome is ours!
_Caes._ Good night, Lord Constable! thou wert a Man.
[CaeSAR _follows_ ARNOLD; _they reach the battlement;_ ARNOLD _and_ CaeSAR _are struck down_.
_Caes._ A precious somerset! Is your counts.h.i.+p injured?
_Arn._ No. [_Remounts the ladder_.
_Caes._ A rare blood-hound, when his own is heated!
And 'tis no boy's play. Now he strikes them down! 160 His hand is on the battlement--he grasps it As though it were an altar; now his foot Is on it, and----What have we here?--a Roman?
The first bird of the covey! he has fallen [_A man falls_.
On the outside of the nest. Why, how now, fellow?
_Wounded Man_. A drop of water!
_Caes._ Blood's the only liquid Nearer than Tiber.
_Wounded Man_. I have died for Rome. [_Dies_.
_Caes._ And so did Bourbon, in another sense.
Oh, these immortal men! and their great motives!
But I must after my young charge. He is 170 By this time i' the Forum. Charge! charge!
[CaeSAR _mounts the ladder; the scene closes_.
SCENE II.--_The City_.--_Combats between the Besiegers and Besieged in the streets_. _Inhabitants flying in confusion_.
_Enter_ CaeSAR.
_Caes._ I cannot find my hero; he is mixed 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 doffed their hats, 'twould be A blessing, as a mark[244] the less for plunder.
But let them fly; the crimson kennels now Will not much stain their stockings, since the mire 10 Is of the self-same purple hue.
_Enter a Party fighting_--ARNOLD _at the head of the Besiegers_.
He comes, Hand in hand with the mild twins--Gore and Glory.[dq]
Holla! hold, Count!
