University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

EUDOCIA and PLACIDIA.
Eudocia.
Alas! my fears—my throbbing heart lie still,
Nor startle thus, e'en at a quiv'ring leaf:
The downy pillow gives me no repose,
And slumbers fly from the soft silken couch;
Ill boding terrors shake the gilded roof;
Methinks I hear a distant din of arms—
—alarms—and shouts—
[Shouts without.
As though from heaven's battlements were burst
Some dreadful ruin, that may empire shake.

Placidia.
Another shout—I fear some signal blow:
This early morn, as sleep forsook my lids,
I from my window saw Traulista haste;
Two chiefs beside led on a chosen band,
So like Thuringian blood hounds in their gestures,
I trembled at the sight; yet as they pass'd
I caught a signal meant to be conceal'd,
A hoarse, low, hollow voice growl'd from the midst,
“Haste to the Campus Martius.”

Eudocia.
Ah! what new shock?—the tumult bends this way—
Oh! Valentinian!

[The noise draws near.
Placidia.
The furious multitude rush towards the palace
I hear the legions shout—long live the Emperor
Petronius Maximus.

Eudocia.
Undone—undone forever!
Where is our father?—Oh! where the good Edoxia?
And midst the group of misery and woe—
Would heav'n permit—ah! where is my Gaudentius?

[Gaudentius rushes suddenly into the Palace—Soldiers and Guards in tumult without.]
Gaudentius.
He's here, my princess—he guards the fair Eudocia—
Protects her life from every ruffian hand,
Nor fate again shall snatch her from mine arms.

Eudocia.
Oh! leave a wretch abandon'd to her fears.

Gaudentius.
What! leave Eudocia midst this furious storm!
Name it no more—death stalks abroad,
And vengeance lifts his arm—but Heaven forbid
That innocence should feel the dread effects
Of cruelty and guilt.

Eudocia.
If e'er thou lov'd—if pity touch thy soul—
Fly hence to succour Rome, and save my father.

Gaudentius.
Thy father!—he had a friend whose arm—
Yes, Ætius was his friend—Oh! Ætius.

Eudocia.
Barbarous man! can'st thou reproach Eudocia,
And chill her with the terror of a name
That rives her inmost soul with guilt and horror?

Gaudentius.
Forgive me, princess.

Eudocia.
Oh! Gaudentius—
Could my poor life atone—my clay cold corse
I'd lay on Ætius' tomb—sprinkle his urn—
Refresh his memory with the last purple drop
That warms to love, the heart of thy Eudocia.

Gaudentius.
Pardon the transports of my filial breast,
That pours its sorrows o'er a father's tomb;
Great Ætius's virtues justly claim
A tributary tear from half the world.

Eudocia.
Had'st thou a marble heart, or stoick soul,
Unmov'd at aught the destinies decree,
Though death cut down the hero, father, friend,
I'd spurn a wretch that mock'd these tender names
Back from my soul to ravage the wild woods.
But say, what tale hangs on thy tongue—
Thou durst not name?

Gaudentius.
If fate commands, and wraps both in a shroud,
We must forget that e'er our fathers liv'd.

Eudocia.
Hah! parricide!
Hast thou the death of Ætius aveng'd?
What! durst thou lift thy sacrilegious hand,
And hurl a blow that severs me forever
From thine arms? then come with this bold front
And subtle tongue, to lay thy sword
Wet with her father's blood, at his Eudocia's feet?

Gaudentius.
Not all the wrongs I suffer'd from thy sire,
Nor yet the vengeance that my own demand
Could urge my arm to aim an impious blow
That might a moment interrupt thy peace!
But Maximus—

Eudocia.
What of the traitor Maximus?

Gaudentius.
Ought never to forgive Ardelia's wrongs.

Eudocia.
Tell me the worst—am I the only wretch
Of all my house, that lives to weep?

Gaudentius.
Like the thrice heated bolt from heav'ns high arch,
Through the dark gloom of dreary night and horror,
That falls and blasts the cedar's lofty top,
The light'ning fell on Valentinian's head.

Eudocia.
From heaven?—no, 'twas hell that belch'd the flame;
By jarring fiends the pointed sword was whet,
And thou wast witness to the horrid deed.
Let us, Placidia, haste with trembling steps,
(Ere earth shall sink beneath his guilty feet,
Like the twin sisters of misfortune lead,
If yet the empress lives, to her apartment.

[The Princesses in an agony of grief retire.—Exit Gaudentius.]