University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

Hall in the Imperial Palace, with pillared arcades, through which the inner chambers are seen at the back. Left and right against the walls are tables and chairs inlaid with ivory and gold, tripods, &c. In the background slaves and freedmen. In the centre of the stage senators and knights, some in groups conversing, others moving about. In the foreground (R.) Flavius Arminius standing moodily apart, leaning against a pillar. Valerius and Gallus enter (C.) while Titus Marcius enters (L.).
Val.
Ah, here he comes!

Gall.
Welcome, friend Marcius, welcome.

Mar.
Give you good day, my friends! Is Caius Cæsar
Yet to be seen?

Gall.
No: he has summoned in
Cassius and Piso only.

Mar.
(in a whisper).
Was it not
From this same Piso's house that Cæsar took
Livia his wife away with him, and bade
Her husband send her on without delay
A letter of divorce?

Gall.
Ay, so it was,
All but the letter of divorce!

Mar.
How so?

Gall.
Rather, methinks, a letter of exchange!

Mar.
Excellent! Capital!

Val.
(in a low voice).
Hush! are you mad?
(Aloud to Marcius.)
You at the palace were a guest last night?

Mar.
I was.

Val.
And did things all go pleasantly?

Gall.
Was Cæsar cheerful?

Mar.
Too much so at first,
And later on too little! Cæsonia brought him
Sylla, the famed mathematician,
Who, in obedience to an old command,
Had cast the Cæsar's horoscope—

Val.
What then?

Mar.
(in a low voice, as he takes them across with him to the foreground, L.)
Let us, I pray you, step aside; I see
Flavius Arminius standing over there,
And I don't trust your renegades!

Gall.
Now, speak!
Proceed!

Val.
What happened?

Mar.
In walks Sylla, makes
Obeisance grave and mute, and hands the Cæsar
A tablet with this brief inscription, “Cæsar,
Not Brutus, but a Cassius threatens thee!”

Val.
What say'st thou?

Gall.
How? A Cassius? Can it be?
And he? And Cæsar?

Mar.
He grew deadly pale;
Then, starting up, he stormed at Sylla in
The coarsest phrase, who, blenching not a jot,
Quietly answers, “Thus the stars have spoken!”
Then Cæsar, cowed to silence, bites his lips,
Across his forehead lightnings seem to play,
And his eyes droop, all life gone out of them!
Anon he laughs out loud, and rubs his hands:
“I have it,” he exclaims, “the danger's past!
Write off to Capito, the Quæstor, straight,
'Tis Cæsar's will, that all on Roman soil
Who bear the name of Cassius, lose their heads!”
We all stood paralysed; at last the Prefect
Of the Prætorians courteously advanced,—
Cassius, you know, the Cæsar's favourite,—
And to divert him from this dangerous mood,
Exclaimed half jestingly: “Ha! wouldst thou so?
My name is also Cassius, so my head
Must leave my shoulders, then?” The Cæsar paused,
And, measuring the man from head to foot,
Said very quietly, “Well, what of that?”
Then turned away, and Cassius grew ash-pale
Even to the lips!

Enter Cornelius Sabinus, L.
Gall.
And serve him, too, right well,
The venomous fungus that shot up so high
From swamps and filth 'neath the imperial rays!
'Twould serve him right, say I!

Val.
Speak lower, friends!
The tribune, see, Cornelius Sabinus,
Has just come in—he's Cassius' right hand.

Gall.
Speak lower, then, but speak,—how did it end?

Mar.
All right! Cæsonia, the Augusta, first
Got Sylla to withdraw, then whilst with wine
And kisses she cajoled the Cæsar, chid him,
Reminding him how 'mongst the troops there were
Thousands of Cassii, and the stir 'twould make,
Were his command to reach the Legions' ears;
Then Cæsar—to be brief—at once resolved,
Of all his Cassiuses he'd only wipe
These out whom he especially disliked,
And thereupon we left—

Val.
And that was all?

Mar.
Well, for the moment, yes! But I have heard,
Forty death-warrants were despatched by dawn
Into the provinces!

Val.
By dawn to-day?

Gall.
And afterwards?—

Mar.
Hush! hush! The Cassius!

(During the latter part of this dialogue Cassius Chærea, Prefect of the Prætorians, has entered at the back of the stage, coming from the rooms within, and has advanced with some slaves to centre.)
Cass.
(to the slaves).
The palanquin! Cæsar will to the bath!
Go one of you, and let the empress know!
(Exeunt two slaves.)
You, Consulares, Cæsar waits for you!
(Marcius, Gallus, Valerius, Flavius Arminius, and the others salute him and retire up, with the exception of Cornelius Sabinus, and disappear into the inner rooms.)
(Aside.)
Now then, to business! No more loitering now!
(To a third slave.)
Cornelius Sabinus, seek him out!
I would have speech with him!

Cornelius Sabinus
(advancing).
He waits your summons!

Cass.
Good morrow, tribune! Any news for me?

Corn.
Nothing, save that the gladiators, those
Whom Cæsar sent for to Ravenna, have
Arrived this morning. On this scroll you'll find
Their names, and also what each man can do!

Cass.
(taking the list).
The gladiators of Ravenna! Ay, all right.
I heard they had arrived.

Corn.
What kind of night
Has Cæsar had, and is he well to-day?

Cass.
Quite brisk and well, more gracious, too, than ever!

Corn.
(after a pause).
Cassius, we are alone, and safe to speak!

Cass.
(after glancing round).
Art sure of that? Well, know then, every day
The danger grows more imminent, and calls
For measures of defence! I mean not trifles,
Such as the trick that Cæsar lately played
On Piso; no, nor even that yesterday
He had the head of Lepidus cut off,
To fill the empty Treasury with his wealth—

Corn.
And we are here in Rome, and we are Romans!

Cass.
I will not even say how he profaned
The Dioscuri's great time-hallowed shrine,
Placing his statue side by side with theirs,
And, as the guardian god of Latium,
Called on the Senate to make prayers to him,
And raise up votive altars to his praise!

Corn.
Is nothing sacred, then? The world and life,
Must they be governed by a madman's freaks?

Cass.
It almost seems so! The plain truth is this;
Caligula is sick! He used to be,
Thou know'st, a man of brains and judgment, quick
To see and to decide, weighty in speech,
And loved the arts.—But for these last few weeks,—
In business or in converse, 'tis all one,—
He drops by fits into a dream-like maze,
Staring on vacancy, starts up anon,
Shouts, dances, leaps, then with a woful sigh
Cries, “He is poisoned, that his life's assailed!”
Then reels and staggers, till, quite spent, he sinks
Like a dead man into a breathless swoon.
By night he wanders sleepless through the halls,
Sees phantoms as he goes in every nook,
Stalks up to them, and babbles to the walls,
Answering their ghostly gibberish, which is heard
By no one but himself.

Corn.
Crazed! As long since
He lost all stint and bound in his desires,
So to his troubled spirit outward things
Have lost their substance and coherency!
And this affrights thee! What delivers him
Into thy hand, disturbs thee?

Cass.
Were he mad,
Quite mad, I should not care! But 'tis just this
Half blindness, this unsteady feeble glance
Of the soul's eye, this same paralysis
Of mind which wakes up suddenly to nerve
Its tiger spring, whose aim none can foresee,
'Tis this that scares me! The insane caprice,
Which prompted him this morning to send out
Twoscore death-warrants, in some sudden fit
May on his tablets set my name. In brief,
I'll end this torture, and for ever!

Corn.
How,
Thou wouldst, then—

Cass.
He must hence, and quickly too!
I know thou yearnest after our old Rome;
What Cassius, Brutus did has fired thy brain!
Well, be it so, let us repeat their deed!
He must away! Amazed? And doubting?

Corn.
No,
Lead only thou, and fear not I will follow!

Cass.
This very day then let us set to work!
I will take counsel with the Senators,
Do thou find how the Prætorians are disposed!
All else some fitter moment!—Hush! I see
The Cæsar coming.

(Caligula appears with his suite, and advances slowly.)
Corn.
Who are these with him?

Cass.
That's Piso there, the same whose wife he stole
The other day, and Titus Marcius,
An idle prate-a-pace; the rest a troop
Of creeping things, that fawn and quake for life!
The old man with the bandage o'er his eye,
Who now adjusts the folds of Cæsar's robe,
Is Flavius Arminius.—Him thou knowest?

Corn.
Arminius' brother, who our Varus slew
In the Teutoburger Forest?

Cass.
Ay, the same;
And he adjusts the folds of Cæsar's robe!

Corn.
In his place I should blush—

Cass.
Pshaw! man, he is
Just such a German, as we sons of Rome!

(Caligula, resting on the arm of Caius Piso, and attended by Titus Marcius, Gallus, Valerius, Flavius Arminius, and other senators and equites, has meanwhile reached the centre of the stage; in the background, slaves.)
Cass.
(after saluting Caligula, to the slaves).
The litter, ho!

Caligula.
You'd have me to the bath?
No, Cassius, no! I'm thoroughly worn out,
So sick and weary, I feel like to drop.

Cass.
Ho, slaves, a chair! A chair there, for the Cæsar!

Calig.
As I was saying, Piso, the dread weight
Of empire lies too heavy on my soul;
The duty of chastising irks my conscience,
The hourly claims on all my powers exhaust me.
Add, too, the perils, toils of the campaign
In Germany.

Piso.
Yet such laurels followed them,
As even Germanicus, thy mighty father,
Did never win.

Cass.
(aside, to Cornelius).
He made some dozen slaves
Appear, disguised as Germans, in the scrub,
Whereon two legions presently must scour
The forest through, and set some trophies up.
That, friend, was his campaign in Germany!

Calig.
Yes, this campaign—thy hand, Arminius!
(Supported by Arminius and Piso, letting himself down upon the chair.)
We achieved wonders, and our foemen fled—
Thou, Flavius, too, wert there.

Fla.
I was, my liege.

Calig.
And saw them run, these German churls?

Fla.
Oh yes,
They ran, great Cæsar!

Calig.
Ha! your colour mounts;
You are a German—oh, I don't forget!

Fla.
If love for mighty Rome, and loyalty
In Cæsar's service shown, can make a Roman,
Then I am one!

Calig.
Well said, ay, very well!
Thanks, thanks!

(Pause.)
Cass.
(approaching Caligula).
Thou art not like thyself; what care
Despoils us of thy smile?

Calig.
Vertigo, friend!
Simple vertigo! Strange! The old man stands
Before my eyes for ever.

Cass.
What old man?

Calig.
I'll tell you.
(He makes a sign; the bystanders fall back several paces, Piso and Marcius, who are stationed behind his chair, and Cassius, who stands before him, alone remaining.)
Yesternight, when Livia
Had left my chamber,—hark you, in your ear,
That woman, Piso, is a paragon.

Piso.
You make me proud, my Cæsar.

Calig.
She had gone,
And I lay sleepless on my couch, when, lo!
The curtain rustled, and comes gliding in
My uncle Drusus, who took poison—then
Silanus, my wife's father, who, you know,
Cut his own throat in the bath, 'stead of his beard;
And he held up the gory knife to me,
As though 'twas I had edged it for the fool;
And lastly came Tiberius, my uncle,
Who bore a pillow—yes, the very same
Which I, as those that love me not report,
Did smother him withal, and thereupon,
Grasping each others' hands, the three began—
(Laughing convulsively.)
I nearly died with laughing; 'twas, ye gods,
Too monstrous, too absurd—began to dance,
Slowly at first, then faster, faster still,
And still more close they span their circle round me,
And still approached me nearer as I lay.
(With a shout.)
There, Cassius, look, look!—there they are again!
Avaunt! Ye shall not—Hence,
Ye icy hands! Back from my brow, I say—

(Sinks back in the chair in a frenzy.)
Piso
(aside).
Horrible!

Marcius
(aside).
Fearful!

Cass.
My hair stands on end,
The life-blood curdles at my heart! (Aloud.)
A doctor!
A doctor, ho!

Calig.
(starting wildly up).
A doctor? I'll have none!
As true as I am Caius Cæsar, none!
Off goes his head who babbles in surmise!
(After a pause recovers his composure.)
How fares it, my good Cassius, with my tawny
Hyrcanian whelps—the lions six, I mean,
Which Tubero sent me from Damascus—eh?

Cass.
Now they have rested, they show fresh and fierce
As one could wish; thou mayest at any time
Employ them in the Circus.

Calig.
That is well!
Something you said of gladiators, too?

Cass.
Who from Ravenna have arrived to-day;
This scroll contains their numbers and their names!

Calig.
(takes up the paper and runs his eye over it).
Here's fifty named, and those from Capua,
From Nola—Good! They'll make a holocaust;
Life's ruddy juice will flow in copious streams,
And steam in fragrant vapours! Pah! Even that,
(Throws the scroll upon the table near him.)
How flavourless, how stale! There's no spice, none,
For a dulled palate, no provocative
For unstrung nerves!

Cass.
(who meanwhile has retired up the stage).
Room! Room! So please you, room
For the Augusta!

Cæsonia
(attended by several women, who remain at the back, enters through the centre door).
Thanks to the gods that still
I find you here; I almost feared that I
Should come too late.

Calig.
Joy never comes too late;
And Beauty's welcome, come whene'er she may.

Cæs.
And art thou well? Thou look'st so pale, my Cæsar.

Calig.
But thou art bright as Aphrodite's self!
This charming dress, that shows the noble limbs
More than it veils their symmetry; this head,
That on this snow-white neck so proudly sways!
And when I think that this most lovely head—

Cæs.
Well, that this head?

Calig.
That it must fall, if I
Command, a twofold rapture thrills me through!
But for the present—come, I'll rest me here!
(Cæsonia conducts him to the chair.)
But for the present let this lovely head
Devise how we shall make the day run by!

Cæs.
You will not to the bath, then?

Calig.
No, no bath!
(Half aside, and mysteriously.)
It minds me of Silanus, who in the bath—

Cæs.
Why fret about the dead? Compose yourself!
With music fortify your listless nerves.

Calig.
(as before).
What! Thou'dst have music, for the ghosts to dance?

Cæs.
(aside, to Cassius, whilst Caligula lies back in the chair, his head dropped, and staring upon vacancy).
These fancies fright me. Mark, O Cassius, mark,
How fixedly he stares! How shall I stir
The stagnant waters of this torpid soul?
I seek in vain, where'er I turn mine eye.

Cass.
(aside).
Yet need there is, that something should be found!
This brooding makes him savage in the end,
And the sick tiger no caresses tame.

Calig.
(starting up).
Cæsonia, where art thou? Stay by me!

Cæs.
(advancing to him).
Come, let us to the gardens, sweet, and there
Amuse ourselves with tennis.

Calig.
No—Yes—No—
I cannot yet resolve to be resolved!
Let us, my goddess, first arrange the show
Of gladiators which I mean to give.
The rascals have arrived!
(Unfolding the scroll which lies upon the table.)
See! what is this?
Thumelicus—I seem to know that name;
How should I know it? H'm! Thumelicus—

Mar.
(comes forward).
'Tis very like, that from Thusnelda's prayer,
Which I presented yesterday, the name
Has rested in your memory—

Fla.
Thusnelda!

Calig.
Thusnelda? Was not that Arminius' wife,
Who on a time 'gainst Varus took the field?
And was it not my sire, Germanicus,
Who took her prisoner, when shortly after
His vengeance swooped upon the German woods?

Mar.
'Twas even so, and thy great sire, my liege,
Brought her to Rome.

Calig.
Tiberius, my uncle,
When she refused to attend the victor's car,
In the triumph of Germanicus, did he not
Command them tear the infant from her breast
She to Arminius bore in prison here,
And threaten—

Mar.
Yes, he threatened her to slay
The child, unless in silence she obeyed
His every 'hest, my liege; and she obeyed!

Calig.
(aside).
Ay, he had brains, the old man with the pillow!
(Aloud.)
And what does this Thusnelda want from me?
What prays she for?

Mar.
A favour she implores,
As oft refused already as besought,
That, after many years, she once, but once,
May be permitted to behold her son,
Who by Tiberius' order has been trained
Far from his mother at Ravenna's school.

Calig.
What say'st thou? In Ravenna, is that so?
Thumelicus—Thumel—

Mar.
That is her son!

Calig.
Thumelicus, Arminius', Thusnelda's son!

Fla.
(aside).
Arminius' son, my nephew?

Calig.
See now, see!
How things combine! She longs to see her son,
And he is here. Arminius' son! Oh rare!
(Bending back to Cæsonia.)
What do you think, love? Can we not devise
Something from this, of taste most exquisite?
A sport to charm and kindle,—a delight
To stir not merely sense, but soul withal,—
A sight more stimulating than the spice
Of Taproban and India, eh?

Cæs.
What sight,
What sport, my Cæsar?

Calig.
How! What sport?
A combat, my sweet innocence! Just think,
A youth, before his mother's very eyes
To fight, bleed, fall! Such sport was never known,
Since first the Circus' sand was drenched in blood!

(Springing up.)
Fla.
(aside).
Oh shame and grief! Oh horror and dismay!

Calig.
(walks a few paces rapidly to and fro, then stopping suddenly in front of Cæsonia, with an expression of irresolution).
Yet, looked at rightly, this is, after all,
Mere empty show,—means nothing, nothing done!

Cass.
(in a whisper to Cæsonia).
Now use thy ready brain! Let not the toy,
Scarce even grasped, slip from the nerveless hand!

Calig.
What, pray, to me is this Arminius' son?
A creature most contemptible, a thing
Of pap like that mine enemy! go to!
A gladiator merely, and as he
Can't win, where were my triumph if he fell?

Cæs.
How! is't no triumph, that Arminius' brood
Shall cease to be a menace to thy power?
No triumph, that the child and mother, kept
As pledges by thine uncle anxiously,
Become to thee as nothing, scarcely fit
In the arena to make sport for Rome?

Cass.
(aside to Cæsonia).
Oh, excellent! go on!

Cæs.
Is it no triumph, that,
If with the Germans many a weary year
Thy father fought, and never could subdue them,
Victory should light on thee, his greater son;
That thou art first to bring Germania low?
For not the victor in one bloody fight,
But he who makes his foe a mock and shame,
'Tis he that truly sinks him in the dust.

Calig.
Yes, thou art right! This gives significance
And background to the pleasant stirring sport.
Now the whole picture stands before my soul:
Thusnelda, with the oak-wreath in her hair;
Her son, as German weaponed and attired,
Stretched 'neath the blade of his antagonist.
Who bears my weapons, wears my purple too;
All this shall, loud as Jove's own thunder, speak
Caligula's triumph and Germania's fall!

Cass.
(aside to Cæsonia).
Now we are safe!

Fla.
(aside).
Help, rescue, O ye gods!

Calig.
Wine, bring me wine, and let the music sound!
(To Cæsonia.)
Come to my arms, divine enchantress, come!
This thou, thou a mere woman, couldst devise!
Come to my arms! for now I am at ease;
A wish, an aim once more before me stands,
I still can will, and therefore still I live!

Cass.
(aside).
Ay! but not long, else Sylla's stars do lie!

Calig.
Wine, ho! Henceforth a festal day shall be
This day, which flung a new excitement's pearl
Upon my life's forlorn and arid strand!
(Music heard without, which continues to the end of the scene.)
Thou, Cassius, straightway shalt before me bring
These gladiators of Ravenna; thou,
Piso, away, and in my name salute
The Senate; tell the fathers I invite them
To Caius Cæsar's triumph, every man.
Why do you pause? Away!

(Exit Piso. Enter slaves with golden goblets and cups.)
Cæs.
(seizing a cup).
Here, here is wine!

Calig.
(seizing a goblet, pours for Cæsonia).
Thanks, Hebe, thanks! This goblet to the fair
And happy issue of this sport of mine!

Cass.
To whom dost thou confide the ædile's charge,
To see that all things needful are prepared
Beforehand at the Circus?

Calig.
(looking round the circle).
The ædile's charge?
To whom confide it? (After a pause.)
Flavius Arminius,
Approach!—To thee, who on the Weser once
Closed to thy brother's prayer thine ear and heart;
Thou, that all Roman art, German no more,
To thee do I confide the ædile's charge!

Fla.
To me, my liege, to me—

Calig.
Hence to Thusnelda,
And to her take with you her long-lost son!
Let him be hers until the games begin;
Then he shall fight before his mother's eyes,
And she shall see him stricken by his doom!
This is my will, so bear it unto her,
And mark it to the letter be fulfilled;
For should it prove that thou art more a German,
And less a Roman, than thou late didst vaunt,
Then, hypocrite, by Kronion's thunderbolts,
(Hurls the goblet to his feet.)
Then shall thy head, even as this goblet, roll!
(Aside to Cæsonia.)
What say'st thou, dovelet? Now I have them all,
The whole stock of Arminius, in my net.
(Aloud.)
And now away! Let the flutes shrilly sound,
Awake the pæan, let the goblets ring!
Till to Olympus high our revel mount,
And down to Orcus' depths its echoes clang!
I live again! To live is to enjoy.
So, rapture, let thy sparkling fountains flow,
And sweep us onwards in thy surging waves!

(Exit, leading Cæsonia; the rest crowd tumultuously after them.)
Fla.
(advancing).
Accursed who dreamt, and from his dream awakes,
The toy of blind caprice, of brutish power!