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Poems, Dialogues in Verse and Epigrams

By Walter Savage Landor: Edited with notes by Charles G. Crump

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SCENE II.

SENATE-HOUSE. Senators. Consul.
Consul.
Senators! ye have call'd me to debate
On our condition.

Senator.
Consul! we are lost.

Consul.
All are who think so.

Second Senator.
Even the best want food.

Consul.
The bravest do.

Third Senator.
How shall men fight without it?

Fourth Senator.
Concord and peace might have return'd.

Consul.
By yielding,
Think ye? Not they: contempt and sorrow might.
Can there be ever concord (peace there may be)

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Between the German and Italian? None.
Remember how that ancient city fell,
Milano. Seven whole years resisted she
The imperial sword: she listened to conditions
And fell. The soldiers of His Majesty . .
His soldiers, ay, his very court . . shed tears
At such affliction, at such utter ruin,
At such wide wails, such universal woe.
They all were equal then; for all were slaves,
Scatter'd, the poor, the rich, the brave, the coward,
Thro' Bergamo, Pavia, Lodi, Como,
The cities of the enemy. There stood
No vestige of the walls, no church to pray in . .
And what was left to pray for? What but Cæsar?
Throw rather all your wealth into the sea
Than let the robber priest lay hold upon it,
And, if ye die of famine, die at least
In your own houses while they are your own.
But there are many yet whose hearts and arms
Will save you all: to-day you all can fight,
The enemy shall feed you all to-morrow.
Were it no shame a priest should seize the prey
That kings and emperors dropt with broken talon?
The eagle flew before your shouts; and now
A vulture must swoop down! but vultures keep
From living men and from warm blood; they revel
(And most the Roman vulture) in corruption.
Have ye forgotten how your fathers fought,
When Totila with Goths invincible
Besieged you; not with priests and choristers;
When twenty-seven ships assail'd your port
And when eleven only ever left it?
Rome fell before him twice; not once Ancona.
Your fathers saved the city . . ye shall save her.

Senator.
Weapons are insufficient; courage, vows,
Avail not. We are unprepared for war:
Scanty was our last harvest: and these winds
Are adverse. They know that who now defy us,
Blockading us alike by sea and land.


300

Consul.
We some are poor, we some are prosperous,
We all alike owe all we have: the air
Is life alike to all, the sun is warmth,
The earth, its fruits and flocks, are nutriment,
Children and wives are comforts; all partake
(Or may partake) in these. Shall hoarded grain
Or gold be less in common, when the arms
That guard it are not those that piled it up,
But those that shrink without it? Come, ye rich,
Be richer still: strengthen your brave defenders,
And make all yours that was not yours before.
Dares one be affluent where ten thousand starve?
Open your treasuries, your granaries,
But throw mine open first. Another year
Will roughen this equality again,
The rich be what they were; the poor . . alas!
What they were too perhaps . . but every man
More happy, each one having done his duty.

Senator
(to another).
Hark! the young fools applaud! they rise around;
They hem him in; they seize and kiss his hand;
He shakes our best supporters.

Another.
Give the sign.
To those without.

[People enter.]
Consul.
Who called you hither?

[Various voices.
First.
Want.

Second.
Famine.

Third.
Our families.

Fourth.
I had three sons;
One hath been slain, one wounded.

Fifth.
Only one
Had I: my loss is greatest.

Sixth.
Grant us peace.
Sir Consul, peace we plead for, only peace.

Consul.
Will peace bring back the dead? will peace restore
Lost honour? will peace heal the wounds your sons
And brothers writhe with? They who gave those wounds

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Shall carry home severer, if they live,
And never in my consulate shall laugh
At those brave men whom men less brave desert.
True, some have fallen: but before they fell
They won the field; nor now can earthly power
Take from their cold clencht hands the spoil they grasp;
No mortal spoil, but glory. Life, my sons,
Life may lose all: the seal that none can break
Hath stampt their names, all registered above.

Senator
(to a Man near).
Speak; you poor fool! speak loudly, or expect
From me no favour . . and tell that man next.

Man.
Oh! we are starving.

Consul.
Better starve than serve.

Another.
He has no pity.

Consul.
What is that I hear?
I have no pity. Have I not a daughter?

Another.
O what a daughter! How compassionate!
How charitable! Had she been born poor
She could not more have pitied poverty.

Consul.
Two ounces of coarse bread, wine, which she loathes,
And nothing more, sustain her.

Another.
God sustains her;
He will not leave his fairest work to perish.

Consul.
Fight then, fight bravely, while ye can, my friends!
In God have confidence, if none in me.

[Shouts of applause. Part of the People leave the Senators.]
Senator
(to another).
Seducer of the people! shall it end
Thus vilely? [To the Consul.]

You have stores at home, Sir Consul!
You have wide lands.

Another Senator.
You should support your order.

Consul.
My order! God made one; of that am I.
Stores, it appears, I have at home; wide lands;
Are those at home too? or within my reach?
Paternal lands I do inherit; wide
They are enough, but stony, mountainous,

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The greater part unprofitable.

Senator.
Some
The richest in rich wine.

Consul.
Few days ago
Nearly a hundred barrels were unbroached.

Another Senator.
A hundred loaves, tho' small indeed and dry,
Would they be worth in such distress as ours.
We could raise half among us.

Consul.
Shame upon you!
Had not your unwise laws and unfair thrift
Prohibited the entrance of supplies
While they could enter, never had this famine
Stalked through the people.

Senator.
But the laws are laws.

Consul.
Yours; never theirs.

Another Senator.
Why thus inflame the people?

Consul.
Who brought the people hither? for what end?
To serve you in your avarice; to cry peace!
Not knowing peace from servitude.

Senator.
For quiet,
Spare them at least a portion of the wine.

Consul.
Nor them nor you; nor price nor force shall gain it.

People.
Are we to perish? Hunger if we must,
Let us be strengthen'd by a draught of wine
To bear it on.

Senator.
Wine is the oil of life,
And the lamp burns with it which else were spent.

People.
Sir Consul! we forbear; we honour you,
But tell us, ere we sink, where one flask lies.

Consul.
Go ask the women labouring of child,
Ask those who nurse their infants, ask the old,
Who can not fight, ask those who fought the best,
The wounded, maim'd, disabled, the Anconites.
Sirs! if ye find one flask within our cellar,
Crack it, and throw the fragments in my face.

People.
Let us away.

[Shouts of applause.
Consul.
Follow me to the walls;
And you, too, senators, learn there your duty.


303

People.
We swear to do our best.

Consul.
Sworn wisely! Life
Is now more surely to be won by arms
Than death is, and the sword alone can win it.
I lead the way; let who will lag behind.