The noble, sonorous music, the solemn movement of the poem are in great part lost by its version into English; yet, I hope that enough are left to suggest the original. I think it quite unsurpassed in its combination of great artistic and moral qualities, which I am sure my version has not wholly obscured, bad as it is. VI The scene following first upon this chorus also strikes me with the grand spirit in which it is wrought; and in its revelations of the motives and ideas of the old professional soldier-life, it reminds me of Schiller's Wallenstein's Camp. Manzoni's canvas has not the breadth of that of the other master, but he paints with as free and bold a hand, and his figures have an equal heroism of attitude and motive. The generous soldierly pride of Carmagnola, and the strange _esprit du corps_ of the mercenaries, who now stood side by side, and now front to front in battle; who sold themselves to any buyer that wanted killing done, and whose noblest usage was in violation of the letter of their bargains, are the qualities on which the poet touches, in order to waken our pity for what has already raised our horror. It is humanity in either case that inspires him--a humanity characteristic of many Italians of this century, who have studied so long in the school of suffering that they know how to abhor a system of wrong, and yet excuse its agents. The scene I am to give is in the tent of the great _condottiere_. Carmagnola is speaking with one of the Commissioners of the Venetian Republic, when the other suddenly enters: _Commissioner._ My lord, if instantly You haste not to prevent it, treachery Shameless and bold will be accomplished, making Our victory vain, as't partly hath already. _Count._ How now? _Com._ The prisoners leave the camp in troops! The leaders and the soldiers vie together To set them free; and nothing can restrain them Saving command of yours. _Count._ Command of mine? _Com._ You hesitate to give it? _Count._ 'T is a use, This, of the war, you know. It is so sweet To pardon when we conquer; and their hate Is quickly turned to friendship in the hearts That throb beneath the steel. Ah, do not seek To take this noble privilege from those Who risked their lives for your sake, and to-day Are generous because valiant yesterday. _Com._ Let him be generous who fights for himself, My lord! But these--and it rests upon their honor-- Have fought at our expense, and unto us Belong the prisoners. _Count._ You may well think so, Doubtless, but those who met them front to front, Who felt their blows, and fought so hard to lay Their bleeding hands upon them, they will not So easily believe it. _Com._ And is this A joust for pleasure then? And doth not Venice Conquer to keep? And shall her victory Be all in vain?