Arn. Let her but live! Cæs. The Spirit of her life I am employed in such; but you perceive I am almost enamoured of her, as Of old the Angels of her earliest sex.1 Arn. Thou! Cæs. Arn. Rival! 170 I! But fear not. I'll not be your rival. I could be one right formidable; But since I slew the seven husbands of Was smoked out by some incense),2 I have laid Getting rid of your prize again; for there's Arn. Prithee, peace! Softly! methinks her lips move, her eyes open! Arn. Cæs. My way through Rome. To the palace Oh! I know 180 190 Now onward, onward! Gently! [Exeunt, bearing OLIMPIA. The scene closes. 1. [See Gen. vi. 2, the motto of Heaven and Earth, ante, p, 277.] 2. "It came to pass the same day, that in Ecbatane a city of Media, Sara the daughter of Raguel was also reproached by her father's maids; because that she had been married to seven husbands, whom Asmodeus the evil spirit had killed before they had lain with her... And as he went, he remembered the words of Raphael, and took the ashes of the perfumes, and put the heart and the liver of the fish thereupon, and made smoke therewith. The which smell when the evil spirit had smelled, he fled into the utmost parts of Egypt."-Tobit iii. 7, 8; viii. 2, 3.] PART III. SCENE I-A Castle in the Apennines, surrounded by a wild but smiling Country. singing before the Gates. Chorus. Chorus of Peasants I. The wars are over, The spring is come; Have sought their home: They are happy, we rejoice; Let their hearts have an echo in every voice! II. The spring is come; the violet's gone, The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower, III. And when the spring comes with her host IV. Pluck the others, but still remember The morning star of all the flowers, The virgin-virgin Violet. i. The first born who burst the winter sun.—[MS.] IO 20 Enter CESAR. Cas. (singing). The wars are all over, The steed bites the bridle, And the veteran grows crusty, As he yawns in the hall. He drinks-but what 's drinking? A mere pause from thinking! No bugle awakes him with life-and-death call. Chorus. But the hound bayeth loudly, With birds from their nest. Cas. Oh! shadow of Glory! But the chase hath no story, Her hero no star, Since Nimrod, the founder Who made the woods wonder And quake for their race. When the lion was young, In the pride of his might, Then 'twas sport for the strong To go forth, with a pine For a spear, 'gainst the mammoth, At the foaming behemoth ; i. through the brine.-[MS.] VOL. V. 2 M 30 40 50 While man was in stature As towers in our time, Chorus. But the wars are over, Have sought their home: They are happy, and we rejoice; Let their hearts have an echo from every voice! 60 [Exeunt the Peasantry, singing. FRAGMENT OF THE THIRD PART OF THE DEFORMED TRANSFORMED. Chorus. When the merry bells are ringing, Then the earth looks free from trouble I could breathe on and break it ; Enter COUNT ARNOLD. Mem. Jealous-Arnold of Cæsar. Arnold. You are merry, Sir-what? singing too? The land of Song-and Canticles you know Arn. Nothing moves you; You scoff even at your own calamity- It is |