Imaginary Conversations and Poems | Page 2

Walter Savage Landor
a trinket unworthy of himself and of Jupiter. The shield
he battered down, the breast-plate he pierced with his sword--these he
showed to the people and to the gods; hardly his wife and little children
saw this, ere his horse wore it.
_Gaulish Chieftain._ Hear me; O Hannibal!
_Hannibal._ What! when Marcellus lies before me? when his life may
perhaps be recalled? when I may lead him in triumph to Carthage?
when Italy, Sicily, Greece, Asia, wait to obey me? Content thee! I will
give thee mine own bridle, worth ten such.
_Gaulish Chieftain._ For myself?
_Hannibal._ For thyself.
_Gaulish Chieftain._ And these rubies and emeralds, and that
scarlet----?
_Hannibal._ Yes, yes.
_Gaulish Chieftain._ O glorious Hannibal! unconquerable hero! O my
happy country! to have such an ally and defender. I swear eternal
gratitude--yes, gratitude, love, devotion, beyond eternity.

_Hannibal._ In all treaties we fix the time: I could hardly ask a longer.
Go back to thy station. I would see what the surgeon is about, and hear
what he thinks. The life of Marcellus! the triumph of Hannibal! what
else has the world in it? Only Rome and Carthage: these follow.
_Marcellus._ I must die then? The gods be praised! The commander of
a Roman army is no captive.
_Hannibal._ [_To the Surgeon._] Could not he bear a sea voyage?
Extract the arrow.
_Surgeon._ He expires that moment.
_Marcellus._ It pains me: extract it.
_Hannibal._ Marcellus, I see no expression of pain on your

countenance, and never will I consent to hasten the death of an enemy
in my power. Since your recovery is hopeless, you say truly you are no
captive.
[_To the Surgeon._] Is there nothing, man, that can assuage the mortal
pain? for, suppress the signs of it as he may, he must feel it. Is there
nothing to alleviate and allay it?
_Marcellus._ Hannibal, give me thy hand--thou hast found it and
brought it me, compassion.
[_To the Surgeon._] Go, friend; others want thy aid; several fell around
me.
_Hannibal._ Recommend to your country, O Marcellus, while time
permits it, reconciliation and peace with me, informing the Senate of
my superiority in force, and the impossibility of resistance. The tablet
is ready: let me take off this ring--try to write, to sign it, at least. Oh,
what satisfaction I feel at seeing you able to rest upon the elbow, and
even to smile!
_Marcellus._ Within an hour or less, with how severe a brow would

Minos say to me, 'Marcellus, is this thy writing?'
Rome loses one man: she hath lost many such, and she still hath many
left.
_Hannibal._ Afraid as you are of falsehood, say you this? I confess in
shame the ferocity of my countrymen. Unfortunately, too, the nearer
posts are occupied by Gauls, infinitely more cruel. The Numidians are
so in revenge: the Gauls both in revenge and in sport. My presence is
required at a distance, and I apprehend the barbarity of one or other,
learning, as they must do, your refusal to execute my wishes for the
common good, and feeling that by this refusal you deprive them of
their country, after so long an absence.
_Marcellus._ Hannibal, thou art not dying.
_Hannibal._ What then? What mean you?
_Marcellus._ That thou mayest, and very justly, have many things yet
to apprehend: I can have none. The barbarity of thy soldiers is nothing
to me: mine would not dare be cruel. Hannibal is forced to be absent;
and his authority goes away with his horse. On this turf lies defaced the
semblance of a general; but Marcellus is yet the regulator of his army.
Dost thou abdicate a power conferred on thee by thy nation? Or
wouldst thou acknowledge it to have become, by thy own sole fault,
less plenary than thy adversary's?
I have spoken too much: let me rest; this mantle oppresses me.
_Hannibal._ I placed my mantle on your head when the helmet was
first removed, and while you were lying in the sun. Let me fold it under,
and then replace the ring.
_Marcellus._ Take it, Hannibal. It was given me by a poor woman who
flew to me at Syracuse, and who covered it with her hair, torn off in
desperation that she had no other gift to offer. Little thought I that her
gift and her words should be mine. How suddenly may the most
powerful be in the situation of the most helpless! Let that ring and the

mantle under my head be the exchange of guests at parting. The time
may come, Hannibal, when thou (and the gods alone know whether as
conqueror or conquered) mayest sit under the roof of my children, and
in either case it shall serve thee. In thy adverse fortune, they will
remember on whose pillow their father breathed his last;
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