University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Tent of Sextus in the Camp before Ardea.
A magnificent Banquet.
Sextus, Collatinus, Claudius, and Aruns, discovered drinking.
Sex.
Come, then, here's to the fairest nymph in Italy
And she's in Rome.

Ar.
Here's to the fairest nymph in Italy;
And she is not in Rome.

Sex.
Where is she then?

Ar.
Ask Collatine; he'll swear she's at Collatia.

Sex.
His wife!

Ar.
Even so.

Cl.
Is it so, Collatine?
Well, 'tis praiseworthy in this vicious age
To see a young man true to his own spouse.
Oh, 'tis a vicious age! When I behold
One who is bold enough to steer against
The wind of tide and custom, I behold him
With veneration; 'tis a vicious age.

Col.
Laugh on! though I'm the subject! If to love
My wife's ridiculous, I'll join the laugh;
Though I'll not say if I laugh at, or with you!

Ar.
(ironically)
The conscious wood was witness to his sighs,
The conscious Dryads wiped their watery eyes,
For they beheld the wight forlorn, to day,
And so did I;—but I shall not betray.
Here now he is, however, thanks to me;
That is, his semblance, for his soul dwells hence.
How was it when you parted? (mimicking)
She,—“My love,
“Fear not, good sooth. I'll very constant prove.”
He:—“And so will I,—for, whereso'er I steer.
“'Tis but my mortal clay, my soul is here.”

(All laugh.
Sex.
And prythee, Collatine, in what array
Did the God Hymen, come to thee! How dress'd,
And how equipp'd? I fear me much, he left
His torch behind, so that thou could'st not see
A fault in thy belov'd; or was the blaze
So burning bright, that thy bedazzled eyes
Have since refused their office?

Col.
And doth Sextus
Judge by his own experience, then, of others?
To him, I make no doubt, hath Hymen's torch
Discover'd faults enough! what pity 'twas
He had not likewise brought i'th' other hand
A mirror where the prince might read himself.

Sex.
I like thee now; thou'rt gay, and I'll be grave.
As to those dear, delicious creatures, women,
Hear what my own experience has taught me.
I've ever found 'em fickle, artful amorous,
Fruitful in schemes to please their changeful fancies,
And fruitful in resources when discover'd.
They love unceasingly—they never change—
Oh, never!—no!—excepting in the object.
Love of new faces is their first great passion,
Then love of riches, grandeur, giddy sway!
Knowing all this, I seek not constancy,
But, to anticipate their wishes, rove,
Humour their darling passion and am bless'd!

Col.
This is the common cant; the stale, gross, idle,
Unmeaning jargon, of all those, who, conscions
Of their own littleness of soul, avoid
With timid eye the face of modest virtue:
Who, mingling only with the base, and flush'd
With triumphs over those they dare attack,
The weak, the forward, or deprav'd, declare,
(And fain would make their shallow notions current)
That womankind are all alike, and hoot
At virtue, wheresoe'er she passes by them.
I have seen sparks like these,—and I have seen
A little worthless village cur, all night
Bay with incessant noise the silver moon,
While she, serene, throned in her pearled car
Sail'd in full state along.—But Sextus' judgment
Owns not his words,—and the resemblance glances
On others, not on him.

Sex.
Let it glance where and upon whom it will,
Sextus is careless of the mighty matter.
Now hear what I have seen. I've seen young men
Who, having fancied they have found perfection—

Col.
Sextus, no more—lest I forget myself,
And thee.—I tell thee, Prince—

Ar.
Nay, hold!
Sextus you go too far.

Sex.
Why, pray, good Sir, may I not praise the wife
Of this same testy, froward husband here
But on his cheek offence must quivering sit,
And dream'd of insult?

Col.
I heed you not, jest on, I'll aid your humour:
Let Aruns use me for his princely laughter,
Let Claudius deck me with ironic praise;
But when you touch a nearer, dearer subject,
Perish the man, nay, may he doubly perish,
Who can sit still, and hear, with skulking coolness,
The least abuse, or shadow of a slight,
Cast on the woman whom he loves! though here
Your praise or blame are pointless equally,
Nor really add the least, nor take away
From her true value more than they could add
To th' holy gods, or stain them on their thrones!

Ar.
If that a man might dare to ope his lips
When Collatinus frowns, I would presume
To say one word in praise of my own wife,
And I will say, could our eyes stretch to Rome,
In spite of the perfections of Lucretia.
My wife, who loves her fireside and hates gadding,
Would prove far otherwise employ'd—and better,—
Aye, better, as a woman, than the deity
Residing at Collatia.

Sex.
(aside.)
Well timed;—I'll seize th' occasion:
View this Lucretia ere I sleep, and satisfy
My senses whether fame has told the truth.
(Aloud)
I'll stake my life on't—Let us mount our horses
And post away this instant towards Rome,
That we shall find thy wife, and his, and his,
Making the most of this, their liberty.
Why, 'tis the sex: enjoying to the full
The swing of licence which their husband's absence
Affords. I'll stake my life that this is true:
And that my own, (ill as I may deserve it)—
Knows her state best, keeps best within the bounds
Her matron duties claim; that she's at home
While yours are feasting at their neighbours' houses.
What say'st thou, Collatine?

Col.
Had I two lives I'd stake them on the trial,
Nor fear to live both out.

Sex.
Let us away then.
Come, come, my Collatinus,—droop not thus—
Be gay.

Col.
I am not sad.

Sex.
But fearful for th' event.

Col.
Not in the least.

Sex.
A little.

Col.
Not a whit.
You do not know Lucretia.

Sex.
But we shall.
Let's lose no time. Come, brothers! Let's away.

[Exeunt omnes

SCENE II.

Rome.
An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter Brutus.
Br.
(alone)
Oh, that some light would beam from heav'n to teach me
When to burst forth, and how to gain my purpose.
For Rome I would resign all other bonds,
And tear each private tie from my fix'd heart.
—Ha!—Some one comes! It is my son! He seems
Rapt in Elysium, and elate with joy!

[Retires.
Enter Titus.
Tit.
'Tis done! 'tis done! auspicious are the fates,
Tarquinia's word is pledg'd, and all its brightness!

Br.
(coming down)
That exclamation was too lofty boy:
Such raptures ill become the troubled times—
Of such, no more.

Ti.
Oh! at an hour like this
Who could repress the thrill of grateful joy!

Br.
(eagerly)
What dost thou mean?

Ti.
Tarquinia.

Br.
What of her?

Ti.
Her vows are pledg'd,
And heaven's propitious smile will make her mine.

Br.
Thine? What! Thine? Heav'n make Tarquinia thine?
Away! away! Heav'n spurns the race she springs from!

Ti.
How!—Father, wert thou to thyself restor'd,
Thou would'st exult to see thy son thus blest.
Our vows are past They cannot be recall'd.
And soon the nuptial altar will behold her
My own for ever.

Br.
No, Titus, not for ever!
If thou art mine, thou can'st not be Tarquinia's.
Renounce thy father,—or renounce thy love.

Ti.
Nay, loose me, father, this is frenzy all.
E'en hadst thou spoken the dictates of thy soul,
(For sure thou can'st not know what thou requir'st)
I must not, would not, could not, yield Tarquinia.
Nay—let me go—or my rack'd heart will break.

Br.
Leave me. Retire. Thine is no Roman heart.
Ere long the moon will change—the moon—my goddess—
And then thou may'st behold a change in Brutus.

Ti.
'Tis as I thought. Folly resumes its reign.
Look on him, oh ye gods!
Grant him once more the treasure now withheld,
And to his son restore a long lost father?
[Exit Titus.

Br.
(alone)
I was too sudden. I should have delay'd
And watch'd a surer moment for my purpose.
He must be frighted from this dream of love.
What! shall the son of Junius wed a Tarquin!
As yet I've been no father to my son,—
I could be none: but, through the cloud that wraps me,
I've watch'd his mind with all a parent's fondness
And hail'd, with joy, the Junian glory there.
Could I once burst the chains which now enthral him,
My son would prove the pillar of his country
Dear to her freedom as he is to me.
The time may come when heaven will heal our wrongs—
To your hands, mighty powers, I yield myself—
I will not doubt heaven's goodness or Rome's virtue—
Then, hence despair! Still, thou and I are twain!
[Exit Brutus.

SCENE III.

The house of Collatinus, at Collatia.
An apartment, lighted up. Lucretia discovered, surrounded by her maids, all employed in embroidery and other female occupations. Lavinia is by the side of Lucretia.
Luc.
How long is it, Lavinia, since my lord
Hath chang'd his peaceful mansion, for the camp
And restless scenes of war?

Lav.
Why, in my simple estimation, madam,
'Tis some ten days, or thereabout, for time
Runs as it should with me,—in yours, it may be
Perhaps ten years.

Luc.
I do not understand thee.
Say'st thou, with me time runs not as it should?
Explain thy meaning—What should make thee think so?

Lav.
All that I mean, is, that if I were married,
And that my husband were call'd forth to th' wars,
I should not stray through the grove next my house,
Invoke the pensive solitude, and woo
The dull and silent melancholy,—brood
O'er my own thoughts alone, or keep myself
Within my house mew'd up, a prisoner.
'Tis for philosophers
To love retirement; women were not made
To stand coop'd up like statues in a niche,
Or feed on their own secret contemplations.

Luc.
Go to; thou know'st not what thou say'st, Lavinia,
I thank the gods who taught me that the mind
Possess'd of conscious virtue, is more rich
Than all the sunless heards which Plutus boasts;
And that the chiefest glory of a woman
Is in retirement—that her highest comfort
Results from home-born and domestic joys,—
Her noblest treasure, a deserving husband!
—Who, not a prisoner to the eye alone,
A fair complexion or melodious voice,
Shall read her deeper.—nor shall time, which palls
The rage of passion, shake his ardent love,
Increasing by possession. This, (again I thank
The gracious gods)—this husband, too, is mine!
—Soft—I hear footsteps! Hour of rapture! Look!
My life, my love, my Collatinus comes!
Enter Collatinus, Sextus, Aruns, and Claudius. Lucretia rushes into the arms of Collatinus.
My lord, most welcome!

Col.
Welcome these, my friends,
Lucretia!—our right royal master's sons;
Passing this way I have prevail'd with them
To grace our humble mansion.

Luc.
Welcome yourself!
And doubly welcome, that you bring such friends.
Haste maidens, haste—make ready for our guests!
[Exeunt Attendants.
My heart is full of joy!

Ar.
Rather, fair lady,
You should be angry, that unseasonably,
And with abrupt intrusion, we've thus broke
Upon your privacy.

Luc.
No, my good lord;
Those to whom love and my respect are due,
Can ne'er intrude upon me;—had I known
This visit, you, perhaps, might have been treated
With better cheer.—not a more kind reception.
This evening, little did I think my house
Would have possess'd such lodgers.

Cl.
Rather, lady,
Such birds of passage,—we must hence to night.

Luc.
To night? Doth not my lord say no to that?

Col.
I would, Lucretia; but it cannot be.
If aught the house affords, my dearest love,
To set before your guests, I pray prepare it:
We must be at the camp ere morning dawn.
An hour or two will be the utmost limit
Allow'd us here.

Luc.
With all the speed I can
I'll play the caterer; though I am tempted,
Would that delay your journey, to be tardy
And prove a sluggish housewife.
[Exit Lucretia.

Sex.
This is indeed a wife! Here the dispute
Must end;—
And, Collatinus, we must yield to thee!

Ar.
I will not envy thee,—but 'tis a wife
Of wives,—a precious diamond, pick'd
From out the common pebbles. To have found her
At work among her maids at this late hour,
And not displeas'd at our rude interruption,—
Not to squeeze out a quaint apology,
As, “I am quite asham'd; so unprepar'd;
“Who could have thought! Would I had known of it!”
And such like tacit hints, to tell her guests
She wishes them away—thou'rt happy, Collatine.

Col.
Enough, enough.
The gods forbid I should affect indifference,
And say you flatter me. I am most happy.—
But Sextus heeds us not. He seems quite lost.

Sex.
Pray, pardon me,
My mind was in the camp. How wine could heat us
To such a mad exploit, at such a time
Is shameful to reflect on; let us mount
This instant, and return.

Col.
Now we are here,
We shall encroach but little on our time
If we partake the slender fare together
Which will, by this, await us. Pray, my lords,
This way.
[Exit Collatinus

Sex.
Along—I'll follow straight.

[Exeunt Aruns and Claudius
Sex.
(apart)
Had she staid here till now, I should have done
Nothing but gaze. Nymphs, goddesses
Are fables;—nothing can, in heaven or earth
Be half so fair!—But there's no hope!—Her face,
Her look, her eye, her manners, speak a heart
Unknowing of deceit; a soul of honour,
Where frozen chastity has fix'd her throne
And unpolluted nuptial sanctity.
—Peace, undigested thoughts!—Down—down! till ripen'd
By further time, ye bloom.

[Exit.