Chorus of
Peasants
singing before the Gates_.
Byron
_Caes. _ Like stars, no doubt; for that's a metaphor
For Lucifer and Venus.
_Arn. _ To the palace
Colonna, as I told you!
_Caes. _ Oh! I know 190
My way through Rome.
_Arn. _ Now onward, onward! Gently!
[_Exeunt, bearing_ OLIMPIA. _The scene closes_.
PART III.
SCENE I. --_A Castle in the Apennines, surrounded by a wild but
smiling Country.
Chorus of Peasants singing before the Gates_.
_Chorus_.
I.
The wars are over,
The spring is come;
The bride and her lover
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 first-born child of the early sun:[dt]
With us she is but a winter's flower,
The snow on the hills cannot blast her bower, 10
And she lifts up her dewy eye of blue
To the youngest sky of the self-same hue.
III.
And when the spring comes with her host
Of flowers, that flower beloved the most
Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse
Her heavenly odour and virgin hues.
IV.
Pluck the others, but still remember
Their herald out of dim December--
The morning star of all the flowers,
The pledge of daylight's lengthened hours; 20
Nor, midst the roses, e'er forget
The virgin--virgin Violet.
_Enter_ CAESAR.
_Caes. _ (_singing_).
The wars are all over,
Our swords are all idle,
The steed bites the bridle,
The casque's on the wall.
There's rest for the rover;
But his armour is rusty,
And the veteran grows crusty,
As he yawns in the hall. 30
He drinks--but what's drinking?
