s.

_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 assassin'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.

_Arn._ But doth she live indeed?

_Caes._ Nay, never fear!
But, if y