University of Virginia Library

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