University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

An open space in front of a temple.
Enter Cordelius, as returned from the execution with his soldiers, who, upon a signal from him, disperse and leave him alone. He walks a few paces slowly, then stops, and continues for a short time in a thoughtful posture.
Cor.
There is some power in this, or good or ill,
Surpassing nature. When the soul is roused
To desp'rate sacrifice, 'tis ardent passion,
Or high exalted virtue that excites it.
Can loathsome demonry in dauntless bearing
Outdo the motives of the lofty brave?
It cannot be! There is some power in this
Mocking all thought—incomprehensible.
[Remains for a moment silent and thoughtful, while Sylvius enters behind him unperceived.
Delusion! ay, 'tis said the cheated sight
Will see unreal things; the cheated ear
List to sweet sounds that are not; even the reason
Maintain conclusions wild and inconsistent.
We hear of this:—the weak may be deluded;
But is the learn'd, th' enlighten'd noble Varus
The victim of delusion?—Can it be?
I'll not believe it.

Sylvius
(advancing to him).
No, believe it not.

Cor.
(starting).
Ha! one so near me!
I have seen thy face before; but where? who art thou?

Sylvius.
E'en that Centurion of the Seventh Legion,
Who, with Cordenius Maro, at the siege
Of Fort Volundum, mounted first the breach;
And kept the clust'ring enemy in check,
Till our encouraged Romans followed us.

Cor.
My old companion then, the valiant Sylvius,
Thou'st done hard service since I saw thee last:
Thy countenance is mark'd with graver lines
Than in those greener days: I knew thee not.
Where goest thou now? I'll bear thee company.

Sylvius.
I thank thee: yet thou mayst not go with me.
The way that I am wending suits not thee,
Though suiting well the noble and the brave.
It were not well, in fiery times like these,
To tempt thy generous mind.

Cor.
What dost thou mean?

Sylvius
(after looking cautiously round to see that nobody is near).
Did I not hear thee commune with thyself
Of that most blessed Martyr gone to rest,
Varus Dobella?

Cor.
How blessed? My unsettled thoughts were busy
With things mysterious; with those magic powers
That work the mind to darkness and destruction;
With the sad end of the deluded Varus.

Sylvius.
Not so, not so! The wisest prince on earth,
With treasured wealth and armies at command,
Ne'er earn'd withal such lofty exaltation
As Varus now enjoys.

Cor.
Thy words amaze me, friend; what is their meaning?

Sylvius.
They cannot be explain'd with hasty speech
In such a place. If thou wouldst really know—
And may such light—

Cor.
Why dost thou check thy words,
And look so much disturb'd, like one in doubt?

Sylvius.
What am I doing? Zeal, perhaps, betrays me.
Yet, wherefore hide salvation from a man
Who is so worthy of it?

Cor.
Why art thou agitated thus? What moves thee?

Sylvius.
And wouldst thou really know it?

Cor.
Dost thou doubt me?
I have an earnest, most intense desire.

Sylvius.
Sent to thy heart, brave Roman, by a Power
Which I may not resist.
[Bowing his head.
But go not with me now in open day.
At fall of eve I'll meet thee in the suburb,
Close to the pleasure-garden of Sulpicius;
Where in a bushy crevice of the rock
There is an entry to the catacombs,
Known but to few.

Cor.
Ha! to the catacombs!

Syl.
A dismal place, I own, but heed not that;
For there thou'lt learn what, to thy ardent mind,
Will make this world but as a thorny pass
To regions of delight; man's natural life,
With all its varied turmoil of ambition,
But as the training of a wayward child
To manly excellence; yea, death itself
But as a painful birth to life uncnding.
The word eternal has not to thine ears,
As yet, its awful, ample sense convey'd.

Cor.
Something possesses thee.

Sylvius.
Yes, noble Maro;
But it is something which can ne'er possess
A mind that is not virtuous.—Let us part;
It is expedient now.—All good be with thee!

Cor.
And good be with thee, also, valiant soldier!

Sylvius
(returning as he is about to go out).
At close of day, and near the pleasure-garden,—
The garden of Sulpicius.

Cor.
I know the spot, and will not fail to meet thee.

[Exeunt.