It should be added, that these two octaves occur at the end of a somewhat tedious soliloquy of nine or ten others, all of which are really octave stanzas, though not printed as such. The other three divisions are filled with the horrors of the siege endured by the unhappy Numantians; the anticipations of their defeat; their sacrifices and prayers to avert it; the unhallowed incantations by which a dead body is raised to predict the future; and the cruel sufferings to old and young, to the loved and the lovely, and even to the innocence of childhood, through which the stern fate of the city is accomplished. The whole ends with the voluntary immolation of those who remained alive among the starving inhabitants, and the death of a youth who holds up the keys of the gates, and then, in presence of the Roman general, throws himself headlong from one of the towers of the city; its last self-devoted victim. In such a story there is no plot, and no proper development of any thing like a dramatic action. But the romance of real life has rarely been exhibited on the stage in such bloody extremity; and still more rarely, when thus exhibited, has there been so much of poetical effect produced by individual incidents. In a scene of the second act, Marquino, a magician, after several vain attempts to compel a spirit to reënter the body it had just left on the battle-field, in order to obtain from it a revelation of the coming fate of the city, bursts forth indignantly and says:-- Rebellious spirit! Back again, and fill The form which, but a few short hours ago, Thyself left tenantless. To which the spirit, reëntering the body, replies:-- Restrain the fury of thy cruel power! Enough, Marquino! O, enough of pain I suffer in those regions dark, below, Without the added torments of thy spell! Thou art deluded, if thou deem’st indeed That aught of earthly pleasure can repay Such brief return to this most wretched world, Where, when I barely seem to live again, With urgent speed life harshly shrinks away. Nay, rather dost thou bring a shuddering pain; Since, on the instant, all-prevailing death Triumphant reigns anew, subduing life and soul; Thus yielding twice the victory to my foe, Who now, with others of his grisly crew, Obedient to thy will, and stung with rage, Awaits the moment when shall be fulfilled The knowledge thou requirest at my hand; The knowledge of Numantia’s awful fate.[120] [120] _Marquino._ Alma rebelde, vuelve al aposento Que pocas horas ha desocupaste. _El Cuerpo._