University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

Maximus, Fulvia.
Fulv.
'Tis time, my father, that respect at length
Should give me leave to speak. You promis'd first
My hand to Ætius' vows, then gave me charge
To hear and to encourage Cæsar's passion,
Assuring me I never should be his.
I your commands obey'd, believ'd your promise;
Yet, when I hope to take the hand of Ætius,
I hear you tell me that my hopes are vain.

Max.
I ne'er, my daughter, purpos'd to deceive thee.
Then mark me; 'tis not sure the worst of fortune
To share Augustus' bed.

Fulv.
And can you suffer,
That he, who dar'd insult your consort's virtue,
Should wed your daughter? Can you thus forget
The affront you once receiv'd? Is Maximus
So dazzled with the splendor of a throne?

Max.
Come to my breast, thy father's dearest part!
This just resentment merits I should tell thee
What else I would conceal. Know then, with art
I seem forgetful of my wounded honour.
Hatred too soon discover'd loses oft
The means of vengeance: now the time's at hand,
And we must seize it. Wedded to the tyrant,
Thou may'st with ease destroy him, or prepare
The way for me to pierce his impious breast.

Fulv.
What do I hear! And can I then, my father,
Present this hand to Cæsar to betray him?
O! in my looks he'd read my foul design:
Fear is companion still to crimes like these:
The soul, for ever brooding o'er her guilt,
Shrinks from herself: the criminal sometimes
Is fortunate, but never is secure:
The people will revenge their sovereign's death.

Max.
That fear is vain; since all alike detest him.

Fulv.
No, you're deceiv'd—the giddy crowd adore
The tyrant dead, whom living they abhorr'd.

Max.
You, Fulvia, first reviv'd my sleeping hatred,
Then shew that coldness you condemn'd in me.

Fulv.
Forgive me, sir, if I with freedom speak:
When I of late condemn'd your tardy vengeance,
I counsell'd not deceit.

Max.
I thought thee wiser,
And less subjected to the servile ties
Of virtue and of conscience; only useful
To abject souls, but by the noble scorn'd.

Fulv.
Are these the virtuous seeds which, till this hour,
You planted in me from my earliest age?
Either you then deceiv'd, or now deceive me.

Max.
Each different age requires its different maxims:
Those suit with childhood, these with riper years:
I then deceiv'd thee.

Fulv.
You deceive me now;
For with ourselves is born the hate of guilt,
And love of virtue: from its infant state
The soul an impulse feels of good and evil.
Oft have you told me this; I now confess it,
And all confirms it. You, even you, my father,
While thus you seek to steel my heart to treason,
Must own compunction. If you hold me dear,
Think of your glory; think that now you go—

Max.
No more, rash girl! I have endur'd enough.
Counsel not me, or if thou needs must counsel,
Go, counsel with thy equals; but remember
That I am still a parent, thou a child.

Fulv.

[Exit.