University of Virginia Library

Scene I.

—Collatia. A terrace-garden.
Enter Lucretia through a myrtle bower.
Lucretia.
I know not if 'tis wholesome to escape
From my dark chamber out into the sun.
My tiny terrace-garden is my joy;
And often to escape I make excuse
The bees require my wisdom to direct
Their honey-traffic, lest my busy maids
Should charge their mistress with rank idleness.
[Looking at the bees.]
Would I were like them! for they toil and toil
With a gay diligence, and never sigh.
I spin all day when Collatine's at home;
When he's away I come to think of him,
For two brief moments, in the ilex-walk,
Alone, amid the happy outside things.
How it refreshes! [To Virgilia, who approaches.]
Do you love the flowers,
Virgilia?

Virgilia.
The roses, and those curling finger-leaves—

Lucretia.
The acanthus-bed. I love the stately trees,
Here under the great plane to lie and watch
The tide o' the wind flow in among the boughs,
And peep too at the sky without distress.

Virgilia.
I like best where the gardener clips the yew;
He's shaping it into a funny beast,
I think, a hog.

Lucretia.
He should not sculpture here,
In my own shady walk. He's made the swine
Snuffing a myrtle! Ah, my summer-house
Of fragrant light, my bonnie bower of bloom,
None shall look in on us.

[Lies down in the myrtle bower.
Virgilia.
They're little stars.

Lucretia.
Then they watch those in heaven, and, methinks,
A child should love them,—steady, shining flowers;
And the blood-berry,—one has dropt on me.
Go, girl, our wreaths are drooping; bind me one
Of any creeping cluster from the hedge.
[Exit Virgilia.
When my dear lord returns, I will be gay,
Meanwhile I'll mourn for him in weeds and briars.
My husband! How the moment I'm alone
I must be speaking with him. [Drawing tablets from her bosom.]
From my heart
I'll draw these warmèd tablets, and set down
My thousand little fondnesses and loves,
That cannot reach him;—there's no messenger.

[Re-enter Virgilia.]
Virgilia.
Lady, one asks for you, a kinsman, and—

Lucretia.
A kinsman! Nay, it is my Collatine;
There is no other man in all the world
That holds me in his thought. Thou foolish child,
Dost thou not know thy master?

Virgilia.
[Aside.]
It's a prince;
I think he's proud.

Lucretia.
Oh look! my hair has strayed.
He cannot suffer the least negligence.
[Kissing Virgilia.]
Virgilia, my little girl, O joy!
I needs must kiss thee for the gaiety
That springs up in my heart. Ye tablets, hence,
My tongue shall now be my interpreter;
Rather my lips with their dumb, kissing speech.
Virgilia,
My braids are duly set; how slow thou art!
[Enter Sextus.]
Let's to the house with welcome on our brows.

Sextus.
Sweet lady, an ambassador I come
From your most worthy husband. You look faint
And startled. Your good lord is well in health.

Lucretia.
I thought you were my lord; I must entreat—

Sextus.
I would I were your lord! but, as a frost,
Why should I chase these roses from your cheek,
Who yet am kinsman, cousin? Ah, the glow
Returns; it is the blush of bashfulness,
Not that first radiant herald of delight,
And journeying rapture, that made speed to me.
I must return to Ardea with the news
I have discomforted Lucrece, who came
To tell her of her hero, and confirm—

Lucretia.
There's no camp-gossip can confirm my faith
In Tarquin's valour.

Sextus.
I am glad my name
Is one with his; for, when you speak him fair,
I'll take advantage of the happy chance
To win the only favour that I prize,
That of my honoured hostess.

Lucretia.
You mistake;
You have a welcome of your own. My prince,
Most royally you keep your word to spend
Your passing leisure with us. [To Virgilia.]
Go, prepare
The guest-room; gather the fresh, ripening gourd,
The early figs, and prettily bedeck
Our simple dishes.
[Exit Virgilia.
The child's ignorant,
Yet of sweet, courteous nature. And, forsooth,
Her mistress lacks not hospitality,
Though from its fair, initiatory rites
An instant frightened. Let me take your hand.

Sextus.
[Detaining it.]
Too dear a gift to part with.

Lucretia.
[Aside.]
How his eyes
Swarm on me! Doubtless it is thus at court,
Where ladies must be flattered. [Aloud.]
Do you look
For further conflict on my cheeks? My fears
Are wholly overcome. You've much to tell.

Sextus.
Much to report. I swear that Collatine
Is a true Roman thus to leave his gods,
His heaven, his wife—

Lucretia.
To gird a stubborn town.
Rightly you rate his patience.

Sextus.
All his thoughts,
And his affections centre on the state.
Lucretia, little did my heart conceive
He owned such paradise.

Lucretia.
He doth not brag,
In the city, of Collatia, nor, at home,
Of his fair chivalry. I burn to know,
From warlike lips, how he becomes the camp,
What hope he crowns, what honours flock to him,
How he is served. This glowing afternoon
You will unfold the story? I forget;
You're heated from fast travel. Then we'll wait
Till the small winds of evening slack the heat,
And all your powers are fresh. Come in, my lord.

[Exeunt.