And strong as what it was, and-
Arn.

I ask not
For valour, since deformity is daring. (1)
It is its essence to o'ertake mankind

By heart and soul, and make itself the equal—
Ay, the superior of the rest. There is

A spur in its halt movements, to become
All that the others cannot, in such things
As still are free to both, to compensate
For stepdame Nature's avarice at first.

They woo with fearless deeds the smiles of fortune,
And oft, like Timour the lame Tartar, win them.
Stran. Well spoken! And thou doubtless wilt re-

main

Form'd as thou art. I may dismiss the mould Of shadow, which must turn to flesh, to incase This daring soul, which could achieve no less Without it.

Arn. Had no power presented me
The possibility of change, I would

Have done the best which spirit may to make
Its way with all deformity's dull, deadly,
Discouraging weight upon me, like a mountain,
In feeling, on my heart as on my shoulders—
A hateful and unsightly molehill to

The eyes of happier man. I would have look'd
On beauty in that sex which is the type
Of all we know or dream of beautiful
Beyond the world they brighten, with a sigh-
Not of love, but despair; nor sought to win,

Though to a heart all love, what could not love me turn, because of this vile crooked clog,

Which makes me lonely. Nay, I could have borne
It all, had not my mother spurn'd me from her.
The she-bear licks her cubs into a sort

Of shape;-my dam beheld my shape was hopeless.
Had she exposed me, like the Spartan, ere

I knew the passionate part of life, I had
Been a clod of the valley,-happier nothing
Than what I am.
But even thus, the lowest,
Ugliest, and meanest of mankind, what courage
And perseverance could have done, perchance
Had made me something-as it has made heroes
Of the same mould as mine. You lately saw me
Master of my own life, and quick to quit it;

And

who is so is the master of

Whatever dreads to die.

Stran.

What

Arn.

Decide between

you have been, or will be.

I have done so.

You have open'd brighter prospects to my eyes,
And sweeter to my heart. As I am now,
I might be fear'd, admired, respected, loved
Of all save those next to me, of whom I
Would be beloved. As thou showest me
A choice of forms, I take the one I view.
Haste! haste!

("Whosoever," says Lord Bacon," hath any thing fixed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetal spur in himself to rescue and deliver himself from scorn; therefore, all deformed persons are extreme bold; first, as in their own defence, as being exposed to scorn, but in process of time by a general habit: also it stirreth in them industry, and especially of this kind, to watch and observe the weakBess of others, that they may have somewhat to repay. Again, in their superiors, it quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons that they think they may at pleasure despise : and it layeth their competitors and emulators asleep, as never believing they should be in possibility of advancement till they see them in possession: so that upon the matter, in

Beautiful shadow

Of Thetis's boy!

Who sleeps in the meadow

Whose grass grows o'er Troy : From the red earth, like Adam,(2) Thy likeness I shape,

As the being who made him,
Whose actions I ape,
Thou clay, be all glowing,

Till the rose in his cheek
Be as fair as, when blowing,
It wears its first streak!
Ye violets, I scatter,
Now turn into eyes!
And thou, sunshiny water,
Of blood take the guise!
Let these hyacinth boughs
Be his long flowing hair,
And wave o'er his brows,

As thou wavest in air!
Let his heart be this marble
I tear from the rock!
But his voice as the warble

Of birds on yon oak!
Let his flesh be the purest
Of mould, in which grew
The lily-root surest,

And drank the best dew!

a great wit, deformity is an advantage to rising." Essay Iv.-L. E.

Of this, Lord Byron himself afforded a striking example. "His chief incentive, when a boy, to distinction was," says Moore, "that mark of deformity on his person, by an acute sense of which he was first stung into the ambition of being great. In one of his letters to Mr. Hunt, he discloses it to be his own opinion, that an addiction to poetry is very generally the result of an uneasy mind in an uneasy body;-disease or deformity,' he adds, have been the attendants of many of our best poets.'"-P. E.

(2) Adam means "red earth," from which the first man was formed.

Let us but leave it there; No matter what becomes on't.

Stran.

That's ungracious, If not ungrateful. Whatsoe'er it be, It hath sustain'd your soul full many a day.

Arn. Ay, as the dunghill may conceal a gem
Which is now set in gold, as jewels should be.

Stran. But if I give another form, it must be
By fair exchange, not robbery. For they
Who make men without women's aid have long
Had patents for the same, and do not love
Your interlopers. The devil may take men,
Not make them,-though he reap the benefit
Of the original workmanship:—and therefore
Some one must be found to assume the shape
You have quitted.

Arn.

Stran.

Arn.

Who would do so?

And therefore I must.

Stran.

Clay thou art; and unto spirit

All clay is of equal merit.

Fire! without which nought can live;
Fire! but in which nought can live,
Save the fabled salamander,
Or immortal souls, which wander,
Praying what doth not forgive,
Howling for a drop of water,

Burning in a quenchless lot:
Fire! the only element

Where nor fish, beast, bird, nor worm, Save the worm which dieth not, Can preserve a moment's form, But must with thyself be blent: Fire! man's safeguard and his slaughter: Fire! Creation's first-born daughter,

And Destruction's threaten'd son,

When Heaven with the world hath done: Fire! assist me to renew

Life in what lies in my view

Stiff and cold!

You!

I said it ere

That's to say, where there is war And woman in activity. Let's see! Spain-Italy-the new Atlantic worldAfric, with all its Moors. In very truth, There is small choice: the whole race are just now Tugging as usual at each other's hearts.

Arn. I have heard great things of Rome. Stran. A goodly choiceAnd scarce a better to be found on earth, Since Sodom was put out. The field is wide too; For now the Frank, and Hun, and Spanish scion Of the old Vandals, are at play along The sunny shores of the world's garden.

Arn.

Shall we proceed?

Stran.

How

Like gallants, on good coursers. What ho! my chargers! Never yet were better; Since Phaeton was upset into the Po. Our pages too!

Arn.

Shall be plain Arnold still.

Cas.

We'll add a title

Count Arnold:" it hath no ungracious sound,

And will look well upon a billet-doux.

Arn. Or in an order for a battle-field.

Cæs. (sings.)

To horse! to horse! my coal-black steed
Paws the ground and snuffs the air!
There's not a foal of Arab's breed

More knows whom he must bear;
On the hill he will not tire,
Swifter as it waxes higher;
In the marsh he will not slacken,

On the plain be cvertaken;

In the wave he will not sink,

Nor

pause at the brook's side to drink;

In the race he will not pant,

In the combat he'll not faint;

On the stones he will not stumble,

Time nor toil shall make him humble;

Arn. Say master rather. Thou hast lured me on, Through scenes of blood and lust, till I am here. Cas. And where wouldst thou be?

Oh, at peace-in peace! Cæs. And where is that which is so? From the star To the winding worm, all life is motion; and In life commotion is the extremest point Of life. The planet wheels till it becomes A comet, and destroying as it sweeps

The stars, goes out. The poor worm winds its way,
Living upon the death of other things,

But still, like them, must live and die, the subject
Of something which has made it live and die.
You must obey what all obey, the rule
Of fix'd necessity: against her edict
Rebellion prospers not.

Arn.

Cæs. "Tis no rebellion.

Arn.

And when it prospers

Will it prosper now?

Arn.

And those scarce mortal arches,
Pile above pile of everlasting wall,
The theatre where emperors and their subjects
(Those subjects Romans) stood at gaze upon
The battles of the monarchs of the wild
And wood, the lion and his tusky rebels
Of the then untamed desert, brought to joust
In the arena (as right well they might,
When they had left no human foe unconquer'd);
Made even the forest pay its tribute of
Life to their amphitheatre, as well
As Dacia men to die the eternal death
For a sole instant's pastime, and “Pass on
To a new gladiator!"-Must it fall?

Cæs. The city, or the amphitheatre?
The church, or one, or all? for you confound
Both them and me.

Arn. You! Cæs.

I saw him.

Yes, sir. You forget I am or was Spirit, till I took up with your cast shape

And a worse name. I'm Cæsar and a hunch-back Now. Well! the first of Cæsars was a bald-head, And loved his laurels better as a wig

(So history says) than as a glory. (1) Thus
The world runs on, but we'll be merry still.
I saw your Romulus (simple as I am)

Slay his own twin, quick-born of the same womb,
Because he leapt a ditch ('t was then no wall,
Whate'er it now be); and Rome's earliest cement
Was brother's blood; and if its native blood
Be spilt till the choked Tiber be as red
As e'er't was yellow, it will never wear
The deep hue of the ocean and the earth,
Which the great robber sons of fratricide
Have made their never-ceasing scene of slaughter
For ages.

Arn. But what have these done, their far
Remote descendants, who have lived in peace,
The peace of heaven, and in her sunshine of
Piety?

Cæs. And what had they done, whom the old Romans o'erswept?-Hark!

Arn.

They are soldiers, singing A reckless roundelay, upon the eve Of many deaths, it may be of their own.

(1) Suetonius relates of Julius Caesar, that his baldness gave him much uneasiness, having often found himself, upon that account, exposed to the ridicule of his enemies; and that, therefore, of all the honours conferred upon him by

Cæs. In my grammar, certes. I Was educated for a monk of all times, And once I was well versed in the forgotten Etruscan letters, and-were I so minded— Could make their hieroglyphics plainer than Your alphabet.

Arn.

And wherefore do you not?

Cæs. It answers better to resolve the alphabet Back into hieroglyphics. Like your statesman, And prophet, pontiff, doctor, alchymist, Philosopher, and what not, they have built More Babels, without new dispersion, than The stammering young ones of the flood's dull ooze, Who fail'd and fled each other. Why? why, marry, Because no man could understand his neighbour. They are wiser now, and will not separate For nonsense. Nay, it is their brotherhood, Their Shibboleth, their Koran, Talmud, their Cabala; their best brick-work, wherewithal They build more

[sneerer! Arn. (interrupting him.) Oh, thou everlasting Be silent! How the soldiers' rough strain seems Soften'd by distance to a hymn-like cadence! Listen!

Caes. Yes. I have heard the angels sing.
Arn. And demons howl.

Song of the Soldiers within.
The black bands came over
The Alps and their snow;
With Bourbon, the rover,

They pass'd the broad Po.
We have beaten all foemen,

We have captured a king,
We have turn'd back on no men,
And so let us sing!

Here's the Bourbon for ever!

Though pennyless all,

We'll have one more endeavour
At yonder old wall.
With the Bourbon we'll gather
At day-dawn before
The gates, and together

Or break or climb o'er
The wall on the ladder

As mounts each firm foot, Our shout shall grow gladder,

And death only be mute.
With the Bourbon we'll mount o'er
The walls of old Rome,

And who then shall count o'er
The spoils of each dome?
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,

the senate and people, there was none which he either cepted or used with so much pleasure as the right of wear ing constantly a laurel crown.-L. E.

Cas.

And her temples so hoary

Shall clang with our tread. Oh, the Bourbon! the Bourbon ! 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 couch'd at their mother;
But our leader from France is,
Who warr'd 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. Ara. Yes, if they keep to their chorus.

But here

The general, with his chiefs and men of trust. [comes A goodly rebel!

Enter the Constable BOURBON (1) "cum suis," etc. etc.