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The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 131

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_Soldiers_. Mercy! mercy!

_Arn._ Then learn to grant it. Have I taught you _who_ Led you o'er Rome's eternal battlements?

_Soldiers_. We saw it, and we know it; yet forgive A moment's error in the heat of conquest-- The conquest which you led to.

_Arn._ Get you hence!

Hence to your quarters! you will find them fixed In the Colonna palace.

_Olimp._ (_aside_). In my father's 100 House!

_Arn._ (_to the Soldiers_). Leave your arms; ye have no further need Of such: the city's rendered. And mark well You keep your hands clean, or I'll find out a stream As red as Tiber now runs, for your baptism.

_Soldiers_ (_deposing their arms and departing_). We obey!

_Arn._ (_to_ OLIMPIA). Lady, you are safe.

_Olimp._ I should be so, Had I a knife even; but it matters not-- Death hath a thousand gates; and on the marble, Even at the altar foot, whence I look down Upon destruction, shall my head be dashed, Ere thou ascend it. G.o.d forgive thee, man! 110

_Arn._ I wish to merit his forgiveness, and Thine own, although I have not injured thee.

_Olimp._ No! Thou hast only sacked my native land,-- No injury!--and made my father's house A den of thieves! No injury!--this temple-- Slippery with Roman and with holy gore!

No injury! And now thou wouldst preserve me, To be----but that shall never be!

[_She raises her eyes to Heaven, folds her robe round her, and prepares to dash herself down on the side of the Altar opposite to that where_ ARNOLD _stands_.

_Arn._ Hold! hold!

I swear.

_Olimp._ Spare thine already forfeit soul A perjury for which even h.e.l.l would loathe thee. 120 I know thee.

_Arn._ No, thou know'st me not; I am not Of these men, though----

_Olimp._ I judge thee by thy mates; It is for G.o.d to judge thee as thou art.

I see thee purple with the blood of Rome; Take mine, 'tis all thou e'er shalt have of me, And here, upon the marble of this temple, Where the baptismal font baptized me G.o.d's, I offer him a blood less holy But not less pure (pure as it left me then, A redeemed infant) than the holy water 130 The saints have sanctified!

[OLIMPIA _waves her hand to_ ARNOLD _with disdain, and dashes herself on the pavement from the Altar_.

_Arn._ Eternal G.o.d!

I feel thee now! Help! help! she's gone.

_Caes._ (_approaches_). I am here.

_Arn._ Thou! but oh, save her!

_Caes._ (_a.s.sisting him to raise_ OLIMPIA). She hath done it well!

The leap was serious.

_Arn._ Oh! she is lifeless!

_Caes._ If She be so, I have nought to do with that: The resurrection is beyond me.

_Arn._ Slave!

_Caes._ Aye, slave or master, 'tis all one: methinks Good words, however, are as well at times.

_Arn._ Words!--Canst thou aid her?

_Caes._ I will try. A sprinkling Of that same holy water may be useful. 140 [_He brings some in his helmet from the font_.

_Arn._ 'Tis mixed with blood.

_Caes._ There is no cleaner now In Rome.

_Arn._ How pale! how beautiful! how lifeless!

Alive or dead, thou Essence of all Beauty, I love but thee!

_Caes._ Even so Achilles loved Penthesilea;[249] with his form it seems You have his heart, and yet it was no soft one.

_Arn._ She breathes! But no, 'twas nothing, or the last Faint flutter Life disputes with Death.

_Caes._ She breathes.

_Arn._ _Thou_ say'st it? Then 'tis truth.

_Caes._ You do me right-- The Devil speaks truth much oftener than he's deemed: 150 He hath an ignorant audience.

_Arn._ (_without attending to him_). Yes! her heart beats.

Alas! that the first beat of the only heart I ever wished to beat with mine should vibrate To an a.s.sa.s.sin's pulse.

_Caes._ A sage reflection, But somewhat late i' the day. Where shall we bear her?

I say she lives.

_Arn._ And will she live?

_Cas._ As much As dust can.

_Arn._ Then she is dead!

_Caes._ Bah! bah! You are so, And do not know it. She will come to life-- Such as you think so, such as you now are; But we must work by human means.

_Arn._ We will 160 Convey her unto the Colonna palace, Where I have pitched my banner.

_Caes._ Come then! raise her up!

_Arn._ Softly!

_Caes._ As softly as they bear the dead, Perhaps because they cannot feel the jolting.

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The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 131 summary

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