University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—The Roman Camp before Ardea. A tent: revelry and feasting. Sextus, Aruns, Collatinus, and Brutus.
Sextus.

Aruns.
Brother, I drink; yet verily I swear
You are so bent on empire that you praise
The monarchy of love with jealous tones.
Yet is your rule assured, for you were first
To take the seal of Delphic prophecy
From pressure of our mother's startled mouth.
You hold the bond of Fate, and yet you cherish
A grudging humour in your very worship
Of lordly Cupid.

Sextus.
I would have all things
Mine to their centre.

Aruns.
Dullard, do you hear?
He'd reach the core of your stupidity,
And call it his.

Brutus.
My common, homely pith,
Like that within the votive cherry-wand
I gave the god at Delphi! It is stuff
Scarce worth a prince's grasp. [Aside.]
I filled the wood
With gold, confessing, in Apollo's sight,
My inner nature brutishly involved,
And covered up with folly.

Aruns.
Collatine,
He laid a knotted staff upon the altar.
'Twas richly clownish.

Brutus.
[Aside.]
As it ever is
To dedicate oneself.

Collatinus.
Fantastic friend,
What meant thy deed?

Brutus.
I could not cheat the god
With dazzling show, who am a simpleton—
[Aside]
A mask I wear to save my forfeit life
From royal sentence, and I fear its weight
Presses my brain. I shall grow imbecile.

Sextus.
He fell among the laurels of the temple,
Tripped by his stumbling feet. 'Tis piteous
How chance for ever treats him as her slave.
[To Brutus.]
Hast been to watch the workmen in the fosse,
Hast balanced every sigh against each lash,
And registered the spadefuls of red earth,
As it were dyed with blood? Comrades, I've seen
Our lack-brain Lucius stand an hour in silence
Watching the filthy toil.

Brutus.
[Aside.]
Because I share
The dumb, subservient, despairing life
Of these degraded thousands, and my heart
Beats slowly to their sluggish pulses, I
Am made a beast by kingly wickedness,
Derided and unpitied; I, as they,
Have hints of mighty faculties within,
Dim, terrible, august.

Sextus.
Leave muttering!
These herds who found our palaces, and raise
Our temple on the Capitol, are born
As cattle for their labour; stripes alone
Can teach the rout activity. Enough!
Such slavish vermin are no festal theme.
We'll serve these delicates. Ho! bring wild figs,
A dish of honey! While our appetites
Are tempted by the choicest viands, such
As luxury is sage enough to relish,
Our Dullard in his pot of humble sweet
Shall dip his sorry fruit. We'll watch him feed
To give conviviality an edge.
Yet pleasure languishes. Let's drink our wives.
Here's to my Lesbia! She's dark as night,
And, like the night, is amorous; her breast
Pillows my triumph; for my sake she breathes,
Desires, adorns her beauty.

Aruns.
So her husband
Dreams with unstinted confidence. I drink
Lucilia, my white, adoring wife,
With jewelled face so shine her sapphire-glances
To meet me, and her lips unloose their bud,
Parting a rose of welcome for endearments
Of summer breath.

Sextus.
[Aside.]
She gives the rosy greeting
To all who dare to visit her.

Collatinus.
My turn!
Lucretia, to thy perfect self I drink,
And feel my homage injury.

Sextus.
Declare
Her beauties, her complexion, and her virtue.

Collatinus.
Blithe modesty, free honour, loveliness
That hath its sweet protection in itself,—
These are her praise, her holy wealth, and glory.
The flush of vernal bloom is on her cheek,
If she but breathe her heartfelt thoughts; her brows
Are golden as the pure moon's youngest curve,
Golden her hair; as unclosed marigolds,
Her brown, unfaltering eyes meet gracious looks,
And take them for the sun; her lips, like shells,
Bear music round their rims, and in her voice
The ear hath all her beauty o'er again.
So young she is, I feel a happy boy,
And yet a tender husband, when we kiss.

Sextus.
[Aside.]
He kindles me, I'm angry at his prize;
It is too much for any but a king.
[Aloud.]
You boast.

Collatinus.
No, Sextus, 'tis the blessèd truth.

Aruns.
You wrong our spouses with such shameless vaunts.

Sextus.
Let us to Rome and settle our dispute.
Now in the unsuspecting midnight watches,
We'll spy our wives, and learn what cheer they keep,
Making comparison of rival claims,
Who shall be titled perfect.

Aruns.
Let's away.
Come, Brutus, stutter forth thy Publia's praise,
Then will we visit her, and laugh to find
Our honest soldier's place hath been supplied
By some less warlike Roman.

Brutus.
Ride alone!
For Publia is waiting my return.
There would be no surprise, if that's the drift
Of your strange talk. She makes a ruddy hearth,
And runs to meet me when she hears my step.
That's all I boast of.

[Exit.
Aruns.
Heavy-witted speech!
He has no care for beauty.

Sextus.
[Aside.]
Am I mad?
Anticipation and a hungry pain,
Like joy, are in me at the very thought
Of meeting this Lucretia. She is chaste!—
A word to rouse the king that's absolute
Within my breast. Shall Collatinus rule,
And brag as he were owner of a realm
Unconquerably his? [Aloud.]
Let horses wait!
[Aside.]
Impatience swells against my heart, and stirs
Imagination's wild fecundity,
Begetting hopes and possibilities
Of exultation.

Collatinus.
'Tis a moving sky,
That casts a solemn veil o'er Dian's face,
As she were robed for death.

Sextus.
Mount, mount!

Collatinus.
I win.

[Exeunt.