 | Virginius |  |
SCENE III.
—A Dungeon.Appius discovered.
App.
From the palace to the dungeon is a road
Trod oft—not oft retrod. What hope have I
107
I am as one that's dead! The dungeon, that
Encloses fallen greatness, may as well
Be call'd its tomb. I am as much the carcass
Of myself, as if the string were taken from
My neck. Their hands long for the office! Oh,
'Tis worth the half of a plebeian's life
To get his greasy fingers on the throat
Of a patrician! But I'll balk them. Come!
Appius shall have an executioner
No less illustrious than himself.
[He is on the point of swallowing poison, when Vibulanus enters.
Who's there?
Vibul.
Your friend!
App.
My Vibulanus!
Vibul.
Appius, what
Was that, you hid in such confusion, as
I enter'd?
App.
'Tis a draught for life, which swallow'd,
She relishes so richly, that she cares not
If she ne'er drink again! Here's health to you!
Vibul.
Not out of such a cup as that, my Appius.
Despair, that bids you drink it, as the cure
Of canker'd life, but lies to you, and turns
Your eyes from hope, that even now stands ready
With outstretch'd arms to rush to your embrace.
Your friends are busy for you with your foes!
Your foes become your friends! Where'er a frown
Appears against you, nothing's spared to make
The wearer doff it, and put up a smile
In its stead. Your colleague Oppius is in prison.
Your client too. Their harm's your safety: it
Distracts the appetite o' the dogs. They drop
The morsel they took up before, as soon
As a new one's thrown to them.
App.
Thou givest me life
Indeed!
Vibul.
That I may give thee life indeed,
I'll waste no longer time with thee; for that
Already taken to assure thee of
Thy fast-reviving fortunes, cheats them of
The aid should help to re-establish them.
Farewell, my Appius! If my absence takes
A friend from thee, it leaves one with thee—Hope!
[Goes out.
App.
And I will clasp it to me! Never friend
Made sweeter promises! But snatch me from
Beneath the feet of the vile herd, that's now
Broke loose and roams at large; I'll show them who
They'd trample on. Hope! Hope! They say of thee,
Thou art a friend that promises, but cares not
To keep his word. This once keep thine with Appius,
108
Thy word is bond enough!—At liberty.
Again at liberty! O give me power
As well, for every minute of my thraldom
I'll pick a victim from the common herd
Shall groan his life in bondage. Liberty!
'Tis triumph, power, dominion, everything!
Are ye not open yet, ye servile gates?
Let fall your chains, and push your bolts aside!
It is your past and future lord commands you!
Virginius
[rushing in].
Give me my daughter!
App.
Ha!
Virginius.
My child! my daughter!
My daughter! my Virginia! Give her me!
App.
Thy daughter!
Virginius.
Ay! Deny that she is mine,
And I will strangle thee, unless the lie
Should choke thee first.
App.
Thy daughter!
Virginius.
Play not with me!
Provoke me not! Equivocate, and lo!
Thou sport'st with fire. I am wild!—distracted!—mad!—
I am all a flame—a flame! I tell thee once
For all, I want my child, and I will have her;
So give her to me.
App.
Caged with a madman! Hoa!
Without there!
Virginius.
Not a step thou stirr'st from hence,
Till I have found my child. Attempt that noise
Again, and I will stop the vent, that not
A squeak shall pass it. There are plugs for you
Will keep it air-tight [showing his fingers].
Please you, give me back
My daughter.
App.
In truth, she is not here, Virginius;
Or I would give her to thee.
Virginius.
Would! Ay, should!
Though would were would not. Do you say, indeed,
She is not here? You nothing know of her?
App.
Nothing, Virginius! good Virginius, nothing.
Virginius.
How if I thrust my hand into your breast,
And tore your heart out, and confronted it
With your tongue? I'd like it!—Shall we try it? Fool!
Are not the ruffians leagued? The one would swear
To the tale o' the other.
App.
By the gods, Virginius,
Your daughter is not in my keeping.
Virginius.
Well,
Then I must seek her elsewhere. I did dream
That I had murder'd her—'Tis false! 'twas but
A dream.—She isn't here, you say—Well! well!
Then I must go and seek her elsewhere—Yet
109
But there or here? Here! here! here! Yes, I say,
But there or here—I tell you I must find her—
She must be here, or what do you here? What,
But such a wonder of rich beauty could
Deck out a dungeon so, as to despoil
A palace of its tenant? Art thou not
The tyrant Appius?—Didst thou not decree
My daughter to be Claudius' slave, who gave her
To his master? Have you not secured her here
To compass her dishonour, ere her father
Arrives to claim her?
App.
No!
Virginius.
Do you tell me so?
Vile tyrant! Think you, shall I not believe
My own eyes before your tongue? Why, there she is!
There, at your back—her looks dishevell'd and
Her vestment torn! Her cheeks all faded with
Her pouring tears, as flowers with too much rain!
Her form no longer kept and treasured up
By her maiden pride, like a rich casket, cast
Aside, neglected and forgot, because
The richer gem was shrined in it is lost!
Villain! is this a sight to show a father?
And have I not a weapon to requite thee?
[Searches about his clothes.
Ha! here are ten!
App.
Keep down your hands! Help! help!
Virginius.
No other look but that! Look on! look on!
It turns my very flesh to steel—Brave girl!
Keep thine eye fix'd—let it not wink—look on!
[They go out, struggling.
Enter Numitorius, Icilius, Lucius, Guard, and Soldier, bearing Virginia's urn.
Num.
Not here!
Luc.
Is this the dungeon?—Appius is not here,
Nor yet Virginius. You have sure mistaken.
Guard.
This is the dungeon—Here Virginius enter'd.
Num.
Yet is not here!—Hush! The abode of death
Is just as silent. Gods! should the tyrant take
The father's life, in satisfaction for
The deed that robb'd him of the daughter's charms—
Hush! hark! A groan! There's something stirs!
Luc.
'Tis this way!
Num.
Come on! Protect him, gods, or pardon me
If with my own hand I revenge his death.
[They go out.
| Virginius | |