University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Cælius, Messala, Albinus.
CÆLIUS.
Noble Messala, Hail! Thy Royal Master
Accepts thy duteous Zeal with warm Affection,
And bears a Heart that counts itself thy Debtor.
What! nor Porsenna's Threats, nor Tarquin's Gold,
Nor all th'alluring Charms a Court displays,
Can move the Senate!—Are these Patricians
Exempt from Hope and Fear, and every Passion?

MESSALA.
So they pretend; but their affected Justice,
Their Scorn of Riches, and Contempt of Pleasures,
Are nought but the prevailing Thirst of Power.
On Crowns they trample with superior Pride.
These strenuous Patrons of the Roman Rights,
Banish their King, to Tyrannize themselves.
Under the soft, seducing Name of Fathers,
They haughtily affect the Pomp of Princes.
Rome has but chang'd her Bonds; and for One King,
Will in the Senate find a Hundred Tyrants!

CÆLIUS.
Are any of your Citizens so honest,
As to detest this lowest Servitude?

MESSALA.
Few feel their Misery; their giddy Minds
Are still transported with this sudden Change.
The meanest Citizen, with Want oppress'd,
Now swells with Pride, as equal to his King.
Yet I've a Band select of faithful Friends,
Who cannot brook the Yoke of these new Masters;
Souls Resolute and Bold, whose Hands and Hearts
Were form'd to shake, or change the Fate of Empires!

CÆLIUS.
Say, what may we expect from these brave Romans?
Will they assist their King?

MESSALA.
Fearless of Danger,
Their Lives and Fortunes are devoted to him.
Yet think not they, with Enthusiastic Zeal,
Will hazard All to serve ungrateful Masters.
Tarquin, they know, is prodigal of Words,
But when restor'd, they say, he'll soon forget,
Or hate, perhaps, the generous Hands that sav'd him.
They know the Great too well. When in Disgrace,
Cringing they sooth the meanest of the Crowd;
But soon as Fortune seats them high in Honour,
They view with Scorn, at Night, the Darling Friend,
That in the Morn was tenderly caress'd;
And treat their Vassals, as mere Tools of State,
Which, when their own ambitious Views are serv'd,
They throw disdainfully away as Useless!
Hear then the Terms, on which my Friends will aid you.
They ask a Chief, whose well-establish'd Fame
May win the Hearts of this inconstant People;
A Chief so great, that should we prove victorious,
He may oblige the King to keep his Faith;
Or, if we fall, boldly revenge our Deaths.

CÆLIUS.
If I remember right, your Letters mention'd
That Titus—

MESSALA.
Titus is Rome's chief Support,
The very Life and Soul of all the Party!
He is the Son of Brutus—
And yet—

CÆLIUS.
How does he brook th'unjust Requital,
He has receiv'd for all his gallant Actions?
His single Hand sav'd Rome; and yet his Merit
Could not procure a Consulship.—
I know he was rejected—

MESSALA.
And, I know, he murmurs;
His Blood boils high at this ungrateful Treatment.
The Generous Senate gives him no Reward,
Except the Noisy Honour of a Triumph.
I've closely watch'd the Sallies of his Passions:
He's yet a Novice in the Field of Glory,
And may, by artful Management, be led.
Impetuous Youth is wrought upon with Ease.
But then maturely weigh, what Prejudices
We have to conquer; Rome, a Father, a Consul,
The tender Sense of Shame, and Fear to lose
The Fame acquir'd by his illustrious Deeds.
Therefore study Titus; read all his Soul,
The Rage that swells, the Flame that melts his Heart.
He dies for Lucia—

CÆLIUS.
Has Titus fix'd his Love on Tarquin's Daughter?

MESSALA.
I with much Labour wrung this Secret from him;
He glows with Shame, and dares not own his Weakness.
But among all the Passions that distract him,
A Zeal for Liberty is most outragious.

CÆLIUS.
The Fate of Rome, in spight of my Endeavours,
I see, depends upon this single Man,
And varies with his fickle Gusts of Passion.
But let us not despair.
[To Albinus.]
Do thou, Albinus,
Prepare this Instant to return to Tarquin.
[To Messala.]
Let us attend the Princess: Some Experience
Has open'd to my View the Human Heart.
I'll pry into her Soul; and thence, perhaps,
May weave a Snare to take the haughty Romans.
Awhile the Lordly Lion scours the Plains,
Mocks at the Spear, and terrifies the Swains;
At length, entangled in the Hunter's Toils,
With Fury roars, and drops th'untasted Spoils!