University of Virginia Library

SCENE. V.

Enter L. Icilius, M. Icilius, Cornelia, Horatius, Val. P. Num. and C. Num. Guards.
Virg.
My Lucius!

L. Icil.
My Soul!

Virg.
My Life!
Oh never, never let us part again!

L. Icil.
No, only Death shall ever part us more.

App.
Confusion! How they cleave to one another!
How their transported Souls before my Face,
Meet at their burning Eyes, their humid Lips;
How thirstily he drinks her balmy Breath,
As he could quench his Feaver with the draught.
Oh the tormenting sight! Ho, Guards divide them.

Icil.
He who comes near us, comes upon his Death.
Curse on your idle Bugbears made for shew;
Do you think to frighten Men with empty Scarecrows?
No, if thou would'st divide us, come thy self;
Compleat the number of thy monstrous Crimes,
And find the Vengeance of the Gods in me.

App.
How dar'st thou thus audaciously to threat
The chief of all the Roman Magistrates,
Ev'n while the Rods and Axes are in view?

L. Icil.
Retire, my Life, a while with good Cornelia,
[Exeunt Virginia, Cornelia.
And at thy Father's House expect me soon.
Now, how dar'st thou who art no Magistrate,
Thy time of Legal Sway being long expir'd,
Threat thy Superiours with the Rods and Axes?

App.
My Superiours!

L. Icil.
Yes, every honest Roman's thy Superiour.

App.
By Hell I'll punish this audacious Insolence.

L. Icil.
No, sooner dar'st thou leap a precipice,
Thou and thy Coward Instruments of Cruelty:
Think not to fright us with thy Blustring Pride,
For thou art only proud because thou'rt mad:
What hast thou to exalt thee but thy Crimes?
And Crimes at which a Man endu'd with Reason
Would Blush, and hide his Ignominious Head.
Yes, thou art Proud because thou art a Tyrant,
That is the most Detested thing in Nature:
Proud that thou art chosen by the Angry Gods
To be the Scourge of Rome, without reflecting,
That could those Gods have found one worse than thee,
They would have chosen him.

Val.
To shew that thou wert rais'd by Wrath Divine,
The Burning Pestilence foreran thy Sway.

Hor.
And War and Famine were its dire Attendants.

L. Icil.
Yet has thy Cruelty been more destructive
Than War, Plague, Famine, that in triple League
Joyn'd their Confed'rate Horrors; nay, what's worse,
While thou hast been a most Indulgent Foe,
Witness the Sabines and the Insulting Æqui,
Most Barbarous hast thou been to thy best Friends;
First to the Roman People, thy Creators,
Whom thou hast vex'd with every vile Oppression,
Next to old brave Virginius and to me,
At whose request th'Assembled People chose thee:
Then to his Daughter, who but the last Night
Preserv'd thee tottering on the Brink of Fate,
When twenty Souls resolv'd had Vow'd thy Death,
And twenty Daggers trembled at thy Heart.

App.
Ha! for a Knowledge of the Men who bore them?

L. Icil.
One of them I'll discover to thee instantly,
And of the Foremost, and the Boldest one.

App.
You dare not.

L. Icil.
Tyrant, I dare, I will.

App.
His Name?

L. Icil.
Oh! That his Name were Fatal as his Arm,
And with the very Sound could strike thee Dead;
Thus would I thunder in thy Ears Icilius.

App.
Ha! Traytor?

L. Icil.
He's, He's the Traytor,
Who has broke all Trust with Earth, all Oaths with Heaven;
And laugh'd at the vain Gods, by which he swore.

App.
Thou shalt die for it.

Val.
We'll die with Lucius all.

App.
Perhaps ye may, perhaps ye all deserve it;
Perhaps ye all are guilty equally.

All.
All, all guilty equally.

App.
Why then ye all shall die, here seize them Guards.

All.
Let them come on.

Val.
Yes, let them come, and the first Man who stirs—
Let's all at once upon the Tyrant rush,
And tear his Heart from his accursed Bosom.

L. Icil.
Let us prevent them, rush upon them all,
And kill the Tyrant and his Guards together,
And shew our selves the Sons of our brave Fathers:
Oh Mutius! where's thy God-like Spirit now?
Could'st thou inspir'd by Love for Rome and Glory,
Alone attack Porsenna midst his Army?
And shall not we, to whom great Jove has given
Spirit to assert his own Majestick Cause,
Which is the Cause of Liberty and Rome,
Dare to assault this Traytor to them both,
Defended only by twelve Scarlet Rogues?

App.
Down, Swelling Heart! Repress thy mighty Rage,
Till Fulvius brings the Cohort to thy Aid;
And then thou shal't be gorg'd with dire Revenge.
By Heaven he comes! with hasty Steps he comes,
And with him my Deliverers.
Hold, will ye turn base Assassines at last?

L. Icil.
To Assassinate, belongs to Appius only:
Hark how Dentatus Blood cryes out for Vengeance!
Since thou hast Banish'd written Law from Rome,
We come the Ministers of Natures Law,
Th'Executors of Jove's eternal Will;
To punish thee a Tyrant and a Murtherer,
The Publick Foe of Rome and of Mankind.

Val.
Let's Sacrifice him strait to great Revenge!

Hor.
To Rome.

C. Num.
To Liberty.

L. Icil.
Vengeance and Death arm every Hand! fall on.

All.
Fall on, fall on.

L. Icil.
What's this I see? O Murd'ring disappointment!

App.
What? do you recoil, and shun the Gods you invoke?
Vengeance and Death you see advance to meet you,
Vengeance and Death are Ministers of Fate,
And 'tis the Frown of Appius that is Fate.
Oh! have I calm'd this Tempest of your Souls!
Here seize them! Nay, resistance is in vain:
A hundred Hands are arm'd against your Lives.
Twice in the space of one resolving Sun
Ye basely have attempted on my Life,
What Mercy then can ye expect or hope?

L. Icil.
Mercy from Thee!

Val.
How we disdain the Thought:

Hor.
What! owe our Lives to Thee!

L. Icil.
To Jove alone we'll owe them,
Jove will protect these Sacred Walls and us.

M. Icil.
Or will Revenge us, and will Punish thee.
The Army is in a full March from Algidum,
Eager and Furious to depose thee, Appius,
And in two Hours the foremost will be here.

App.
You think to fright me: Grant that this were true,
My Empire still exceeds thy shorter Date,
Thou shalt not live an Hour; away with them,
And give the Prefect of the Prison charge
That all things be got ready for their Deaths;
Half of you Guard them to the Prison Gates,
The rest to Old Virginia's House must haste,
And bring the Slave that's call'd his Daughter hither.

[Exeunt all, but Appius and Fulvius Guards.
App.

[Exit.