University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

An Apartment in the House of Belisarius.
Phorbas, Marcella.
Mar.
Forgive me, Phorbas! but the scenes of night
Are still before my eyes. I saw thee clad
As yesterday, in rich triumphal robes;
I stood as then, upon the northern tower
Marking thy gallant entrance. On a sudden
Dark dismal clouds whence sulphurous lightnings flash'd
Opposed my view. When strait I saw thee dead,
Cover'd with wounds, and Narbal waving o'er thee
A sword bedew'd with blood. I waked in horror;
Nor can I yet erase the deep impression.

Phor.
And shall unreal dreams disturb thy peace?
Disjointed emblems of our waking thoughts?
Where is the wisdom of Marcella's mind?
True, we have fear'd the base deceit of Narbal;
But fresh-adorn'd with honour and renown,
With power invested, in Justinian's love
Fix'd firm, in vain will he and Theodora
Their malice point, which stingless, shall inflict
No mortal wound.

Mar.
Why cannot we retire
With Belisarius? What is power or fame,
To those unenvied joys which bless the country?

Phor.
What joys can thy imagination paint?

Mar.
Ah! canst thou ask me? Should I not possess
Thy much-lov'd converse? balm of every care?
The verdure of the fields, the gurgling brooks,
The high oaks quivering to the western gale,
The yellow corn-field, and melodious note
Of lark, or nightingale, to me are joys
Of secondary consequence.

Phor.
No more,
Alluring temptress! inclination leads
With thee to pleasing fond ideal haunts;
But duty, fame, and virtue fix me here.
Well have thy father's actions earn'd retirement,
Like autumn's fruits thick hang his honours on him,
Mine are but in the blossom.—lo! he comes!

Belisarius
advancing.
Welcome the prospect of serene delight!
Of calm content, whose gentle rays shall gild
The evening of my life! unvex'd by storms
Which shake ambition; far from hate and guile;
And the pernicious blast of sickening envy.
(Seeing Marcella and Phorbas.)
My Phorbas! my Marcella!—and behold
(Enter Antonina and Junius.)
Junius and Antonina!—sweetest boy!
Thy tongue shall charm the weary hours of age,
And soothe it's pains.—Oh! best and most beloved!
This is the auspicious time which sets me free.
Not with more heart-felt pleasure doth the rustic
After the toils of day, at sun-set enter
His lowly home. Like the old warrior horse,
Dismiss'd by some kind master, to his hills,
And verdant meads, once more shall I revisit
The paths of nature, and sensations feel
Long unexperienc'd.

Phor.
Thus the ancient Roman,
From dictatorial pomp his farm regain'd,
Array'd in glory.—Fit for every station
Art thou; the warrior, politician, sage,
In thee are blended.

Bel.
What from some, my son,
Might be deem'd flattery, in thee is love,
Respect, and filial duty.—To thy hands
My charge, the good Justinian hath deliver'd!
And, trust me, an important one it is,
Requiring all thy vigour. Oh! be still,
Just, and humane! to strictest discipline
Add tender care, so shall the soldiers bless thee.
Be to thy enemies, in battle, dreadful;
But spare the suppliant, spare the unarmed head.
Nor ever let the old disbanded warrior
Taste of distress and penury.

Phor.
To thee
I owe whate'er I am!—to thy example
Whate'er I shall be.

Bel.
Bear thyself upright
In camp, or court; despise the unsound policy
Of knavish cunning. Far above the reach
Of the mean villain soars illustrious greatness,
And excellence of soul.—Yet prudent be thou,
And circumspect. Above the rest of men
Beware of Narbal; trust not Theodora.
Safe in thy proper dignity, nor dread,
Nor with blind confidence repose on others.
Why weeps my daughter?

Mar.
Happiness is yours.
Here splendid care and discontent reside.
Fain would I sacrifice some years of life
Thus to retreat.

Bel.
Be comforted my daughter.
In such a dearth of goodness, duty calls
On youths who like thy Phorbas feel the flame
Of patriot love, to mingle with the crew
Of base pretenders.—I but go before
Your steward, and purveyor. Each addition
Of use or ornament, I shall be pleased
To think you one day will possess, and love
The building, for the builder. Every tree
I plant, will please me, when I shall reflect
You and your children will enjoy the shade.
It is not probable his days of trouble
Will equal mine; long e'er he shall arrive
At my extent of years, I hope the army,
The state will spare him.
Enter Caius.
Caius! hah! thy errand!

Caius.
The messenger of ill I come. Oh! fly!
Quit these vile dwellings of deceit and fraud
With rapid eagle's speed! By Narbal trusted,
Eumenes is your friend: from him I come.
Deep is the plot, and strong is the conspiracy,
Tho it's extent he knows not. He and Decius
Are ordered to convey you to the palace,
While Entyches among his pious brethren
Whispers malignant lies; that you propose
Our worship to o'erthrow, and rear again
The pagan structure from its mouldering ruins.
Narbal and Theodora have determined
That not your long deserts, your bravery, virtue,
Nor e'en your new-won triumph shall protect you.
Eumenes sees no safety but in flight.
Haste! frustrate by your speed the dire intent
Of base malevolence.—I must away,
Lest intercepted I should share your fate,
And lose all future power to aid, to serve you.

(Exit.
Ant.
Oh! fly! this instant fly!

Mar.
Lose not a moment.

Phor.
Haste to Nicanor! by the port he dwells,
And will with speed convene the band of veterans.
In the first bark we find, with our domestics
Steer we for Asia, where all hearts are thine.
Meanwhile the veterans shall secure our passage.

Bel.
Steer thou for Asia! seek its farthest climes!
Fly all! but Belisarius here remains.

Ant.
A prey to Narbal?

Bel.
Not a fugitive,
Proclaiming guilt.

Ant.
I see, alas! thy death.

Bel.
Which I have never fear'd.

Mar.
Yet pity us!

Bel.
I do. But will not skreen myself by baseness.

Mar.
What refuge then remains?

Bel.
Our innocence.

Mar.
What guard is that?

Bel.
More than encircling armies;
It fortifies the heart.

Mar.
Oh! we are lost!
I see my Phorbas all our fate before us,
Painted in blackest characters I see it.
O Belisarius, if thou wilt not yield
To our intreaties, kill us not with sternness!
Kneel Junius! heed, oh! heed his infant prayer!

Bel.
Why wound me thus Marcella! I knew not
That I was stern. Your looks, your sighs affect me.
Various are now the feelings of my soul;
Pity for you, indignant rage, disdain,
And love of glory. Mid the different conflict
The latter triumphs. Belisarius must not
Sink in his own opinion. Grief may rend
My heart; treatment unmerited stir up
Resentment in me; but my eye shall not
Quit sight of the guiding star, fix'd rectitude,
That never sets.—Lead these distress'd apart!
Fear not. Prosperity again will smile.
Lead them apart my son!—I meet alone
These messengers.

[Exeunt.
Belisarius
(alone.)
'Tis true. I feel it now in every nerve—
The energy of virtue. It supports,
Enlightens, strengthens.—Tryer of mankind!
Adversity! come onward! I will meet thee
With open arms. To the unprepared heart
How dreadful are thy terrors!—All that's pass'd,
A bright extent of fame, beyond thy power
Is placed.—Tho they have reach'd my stage of being,
How many sink oblivious!—I have lived
Compared with them, this mortal life thrice o'er.
With blessings, praises, willing honours crown'd,
Unforced, unbought applause.—The recollection
Warms me throughout, and thaws the frost of age
Which otherwise would make the thicken'd blood
Curdle within it's mazy labyrinths.
Yet am I man—nature is powerful still—
A sigh will rise; a tear will fall—firm bound
Is the connubial, the parental chain.
Whatever link is shock'd, the faithful center
Feels the vibration.—In myself prepared
To meet each accident, for them my soul
Is soft as melting wax.—No more of this.—
I'm ready.—Yet is passive fortitude
More arduous, than most intrepid action.

Enter Decius, Eumenes, Caius, Slave, and Guards.
Dec.
The Emperor's mandate.

Bel.
I obey his orders;
And am your prisoner. Take my sword; it's edge
None but his enemies e'er felt. The weapon
Is little worth; the cause it hath been used in
Was always just. My son is comprehended
Within this schedule; he will soon attend.
What is the imputed crime?

Dec.
My orders urge me
To haste immediate, nor admit a parley.
This faithful slave discovers hidden letters,
And doubtless those the criminal hath read.

Bel.
I read upon thy forehead, Narbal's creature;
And in his eyes, a lye.

Dec.
Suspect not us;
Narbal and Decius are thy friends.

Bel.
Ulysses
Pleaded for Palamedes, when he placed
The gold within his tent, which caused his death.

Dec.
I oft have mark'd, and wonder'd how serenity
Can with the traitor dwell. O shame! Justinian
Hath loaded thee with generous acts of kindness,
For which thy honest hand would plant a dagger
In his unthinking heart.

Bel.
At length thy words
Betray thee. So the serpent lurks awhile
Hissing beneath his bush, e'er he discovers
His speckled crest, and brandishes his sting.

Dec.
I came not to impart, or hear reproaches.
Tullus with me. (to the Slave.)
Eumenes guard the passage.
I will secure his son, these papers seize,
And strait return.—

(Exeunt Decius and Slave, &c.
Eum.
Retire, and keep the door.
(to the guards.)
Caius remain. O Belisarius would'st thou not
Enjoy thy liberty?

Bel.
It's golden hours
Are worth a kingdom's price.

Eum.
They may be thine.

Bel.
What mean'st thou?

Eum.
We have sounded
The guards, and half will join the flight; should Decius
Offer resistance, he would rue the trial.
Meanwhile thy family may gain the port;
We soon will follow.

Bel.
Am I then so alter'd?
Dost thou not know me? Who am I?

Eum.
The man
Whom I most honour, Belisarius,
This age's glory, and it's wonder.

Bel.
Hold—
No more.—Years have not changed or warp'd my nature;
I still am Belisarius. Art thou answer'd?

Eum.
I am perforce.

Bel.
Thy friendship I have always
Regarded well. This testimony of it
I mean to bury deep within my breast,
Nor let it ever rise to light against thee.

Enter Decius, Phorbas, &c.
Bel.
Thy looks infect my aged eyes, my son.
How did'st thou leave them?

Phor.
Overcome with grief,
Too violent to utter their complaints.
They only wring their hands, sitting in silence
And motionless as statues. I should there
Have grown into the earth, had not stern force
Dragg'd me away.—'Twere best you saw them not.

Bel.
I see them now too well. My heart o'erflows
With sympathising pity. Weakness causes not
Thy tears or mine; for they deserve the tribute.
So excellent in nature, so affectionate,
With meekest duty joining tenderest love;
Deep will affliction penetrate their souls,
And I feel all the wound. O my good youth!—

Dec.
Are you prepared?

Bel.
We are. The stroke of malice
May stun, but not destroy. I've seen the soldier
Tho sunk upon his knee, rebound with vigour,
And slay the enemy who gave the blow.
If overcome, he for his country died,
And cheated death, acquiring endless glory.
The field is not the only bed of honour;
The gloomy prison, torturing wheel, or scaffold
Virtue can sanctify. The thoughts of men
No power controuls, and aftertimes embalm
The memory of the good. Guilt trembles ever;
Fearful thro life; and on the silken bed,
Or stretch'd on roses, sees with ghastly eye
Death's flow, but sure approach. It's end is dreadful;
A lesson to the present, to posterity
A tale of ignominy and contempt.
Proceed.—We follow.

SCENE II.

Antonina. Marcella.
Mar.
Oh! should he die, I never would survive him.
No more of hope—I see no ray of light
Thro the wild waste to guide our devious feet.
Yet bounteous heaven ordains, when fortune lowers,
And with fierce rage the growing tempest swells,
Mid all it's bitterest wrath, a friendly dagger
Will give us peace.

(pulls out a dagger.)
Fla.
Oh! shun despair Marcella,
The worst of fiends!—that fatal weapon banish.

Mar.
No.—But till human strength can bear no more,
And from the conflict shrinks—it rests in peace.

Ant.
Why prophecy their deaths? Heroes e'er now
Have felt the weight of ignominious bonds,
Yet rose superior to their vaunting foes.
Say, can Justinian in his height of power
Dare to command? In their full scope of cruelty
Can Theodora, can the treacherous Narbal
Prompt the dire act of murther? Will they hazard
The chance of tumult? the awaken'd anger
Of all the Roman provinces? Can Phorbas,
Can Belisarius perish so unjustly?
And vengeance sleep? Trust me, ten thousand arms
Will soon be raised; and e'en among his guards,
The troops conspire, to pull destruction down
Upon the offenders heads.

Mar.
And what avails
The tardy punishment? why do not now
While yet they live, vindictive armies rise?
The dead are soon forgotten; who disturbs
Their slumbers? Friendship passes far aloof
With blushing face, or at the midnight hour
May seek the tomb, then wring her hands together,
And say, too late my aid; e'er death prevented,
Why strove I not to save them?

Ant.
I mistrust not
The righteous gods; who ever heed the cause,
The sacred cause of innocence and virtue.

Mar.
The gods are just, are good. Shall I arraign
Their high o'erruling power?—Oh! where ye sit,
(Kneeling)
Throned in the insufferable blaze of light,
Look down with pitying eyes, and in the time
Of deep adversity, sustain, preserve
Those whom your own enlivening spirit form'd
The best, the noblest of the human race!

Ant.
It dawns. The face of hope more bright appears.
Justinian cannot but protect the men
To whom his utmost gratitude is due.
But should he fail to guard them in the hour
Of sad distress, by calumny assail'd,
Let us in weeds of mourning seek the empress,
And prostrate at her feet—

Mar.
O mean expedient!
Idle, and fruitless!—Shall the honour'd wife
Of Belisarius, shall his daughter stoop
To abject condescension?

Ant.
Could we save them,
Shall nice fastidious notions interfere?
Or haughtiness restrain us? In her youth,
Unconscious of her present state of greatness,
We interchanged the vows of equal friendship.
Tho now ambition has usurp'd her mind,
And bigot zeal; yet when her eyes behold us
Prone on the ground, the embers may revive
Of ancient love, and by humility
We gain a prize above the wealth of worlds.

Mar.
Oh! I have raised my towering thoughts too high.
Admiring all the godlike qualities
Of my great father, blended happily
In Phorbas' breast, I fed my eager soul
Till it dilating view'd with fix'd indifference
Each sublunary being. Kings themselves
Sunk far beneath me brought to the sacred touch
Of this comparison. Now cast I off
Pride, glowing shame. To my condition levell'd,
I own the dust my origin! and fall,
Press'd by the hand of strong necessity,
Where, for myself, to gain a thousand years
Of mortal life, I should refuse to bend.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Palace.
Justinian, Theodora, Narbal.
Just.
Above each earthly tye we owe our duty
To thee, O most adored! By thee supported,
I dare with firmness raise the rod of iron
O'er thy contemners! Pious Eutyches
With holy fervour hath enlarged my heart.
His arguments and thine, my Theodora,
Were pregnant with conviction. Justice triumphs.
Yet would I not to death pursue its dictates;
Degraded from their honours, and exiled,
They pay the debt of treason. Mild their punishment,
Shewing our sense of past deserts. And mercy,
No less than justice, is the attribute
Of awful Deity.—Shall man then sin?
And shall not man relent?

Theo.
Dost thou again relapse into thy weakness?
Is this the firm resolve to do heaven service?
But oh! remember, tho in private station
Thy soul might yield unblamed to melting pity,
Not to himself alone the sovereign lives;
Millions on thee depend, to thee look up
For preservation. Wouldst thou then to save
The proved offenders, view our fertile provinces
Laid waste by civil broils? Our cities sack'd?
Subjects gainst subjects warring? Shall the cross
Which now triumphant stands, beneath the feet
Of heathens press the dust?

Just.
Yet is it strange
So many battles fought, and victories won,
Nations subdued, armies at his disposal,
He should not till arrived at the utmost verge
Of trembling life, against our power rebel,
And strive for mastery.

Theo.
Who can explain
The contradictions of the human mind?
Yet oft, tho youthful years will turn abhorrent
From deeds of treachery; when age steals on,
Each early scyon in the spring put forth,
And e'en by manhood cherish'd, will be blasted.

Nar.
Such must be Belisarius. Lost in wonder,
Scarce can I now give credence to the proofs,
Forceful and clear, of his ingratitude.
But Brutus slew his father and his friend.
Wives have imbrued their hands in husbands blood,
Brothers have slain their unsuspecting brother,
Urged by the fiend ambition.—O Justinian!
Would that my death could purchase lasting firmness
To all thy plans, in deepest wisdom form'd
To bless thy subjects, and secure forever
The faith by thee protected! Would to heaven
The life of Belisarius could be spared!
Nor Phorbas perish!

Just.
Will no danger spring
From out their ashes?—Justice hath decreed,
The safety of the state demands their deaths.
The slave the letters found, the answers penn'd,
The words of Claudius urge the stern decree.
But ne'er could they alone this deed contrive
Of black detested villainy.—Will treason,
And restive mutiny be slain with them?
Rather I see uprising multitudes
Quickened to action, and conspiracy
On every side, with mortal violence,
And open front, advance against our throne.

Theo.
Let it advance! Must I again Justinian
Tell thee, a kingdom is a glorious tomb?
Thy arguments should rather string the nerves
Of speedy execution. Winged minutes
Haste on to safety; while the tardy step
Of dull suspicion stumbles at the threshold,
And wakes the fury danger in her cave.

Nar.
Say we protract the fate of Belisarius,
And sound the populace? If his confinement
They bear with ineffectual murmurs only,
We lose not our caution. Death may follow.—
Or say the sword on Phorbas first descend;
Without his active aid, tho Belisarius
Should even be enlarged, the treasonous head
Wanting the hand, will give no birth to terror.

Just.
The guardian care of Providence protect me!
And your true aid, and counsel! Let the sword
Descend on Phorbas.—Hold—receive our signet.
Act as ourselves—their fate is in thy hands.

Nar.
With pity and reluctance, to Eumenes
I bear thy orders.

[Exit.
Just.
Theodora! oh!
How keen my feelings! never did I sentence
Without a pang, the meanest of my subjects;
But now what torture racks my inmost soul,
And tears each finer nerve of bleeding friendship!
Yes, witness heaven, how dearly I esteem'd them!
Should they be guiltless!—But their crimes are obvious.
How would the tongues of men exclaim against me!
How branded to the world should I appear,
How base in history's impartial page!
Their guilt is manifest—these pangs are nature's.
Religion, public love approve the deed.
Oh! calm my soul! Yet tho excelling all
Thy sex in wisdom, fruitless were the task.
Time only can perform that office; time
Which softly checks the reins of headstrong grief,
And by degrees wears out the trace of memory.