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 countship 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.