Who bears the golden horn, and wears such
And blooming aspect, Huon; for he looks
Like to the lovely boy lost in the forest,
And never found till now. And for the other
And darker, and more thoughtful, who
He shall be Memnon, from the Ethiop king
Whose statue turns a harper once a day.
Stran. I have ten thousand names, and
As many attributes; but as I wear
A human shape, will take a human name.
Arn. More human than the shape (though
it was mine once)
Stran. Then call me Cæsar.
Arn. Why, that name
Belongs to empires, and has been but borne
By the world's lords.
Stran. And therefore fittest for
The devil in disguise -- since so you deem
Arn. Well, then,
Cæsar thou shalt be. For myself, my name
Shall be plain Arnold still.
Cœs. 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.
Cœs.(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;||550|
Swifter as it waxes higher;
In the marsh he will not slacken,
On the plain be overtaken;
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;||560|
But be wingèd as a griffin,
Only flying with his feet:
And will not such a voyage be sweet?
Merrily! merrily! never unsound,
Shall our bonny black horses skim over the ground!
From the Alps to the Caucasus ride we, or fly!
For we'll leave them behind in the glance of an eye.
[They mount their horses, and disappear.
A Camp before the Walls of Rome.
ARNOLD and Cæsar.
Cces. You are well enter'd now.
Arn. Ay; but my path
Has been o'er carcasses: mine eyes are full
Cœs. Then wipe them, and see clearly.
And free companion of the gallant Bourbon,
Late constable of France: and now to be
Lord of the city which hath been earth's lord
Under its emperors, and -- changing sex,
Not sceptre, an hermaphrodite of empire --
Lady of the old world.
Arn.How old ? What! are there
Cœs. To you. You'll find there are such
By its rich harvests, new disease, and gold;
From one half of the world named a whole
And dubious notice of your eyes and ears.
Arn. I'll trust them.
Cœs. Do! They will
deceive you sweetly,
And that is better than the bitter truth.
Cœs. Your obedient humble servant.
Arn. Say master rather. Thou hast lured
Through scenes of blood and lust, till I am here.
Cces. And where wouldst thou be?
Arn. Oh, at peace -- in peace!
Cœs. And where is that which is so?
|From the star||590|
In life commotion is the extremest point
Of life. The planet wheels till it becomes
A comet, and destroying as it sweeps