University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A street in Servia.
Enter Brutus and Cassius.
Brutus.
Is this the once fam'd mistress of the north
The sweet retreat of freedom? dearly purchas'd!
A clime matur'd with blood; from whose rich soil,
Has sprung a glorious harvest.—Oh! my friend,
The change how drear! the sullen ghost of bondage,
Stalks full in view—already with her pinions,
She shades the affrighted land—th' insulting soldiers,
Tread down our choicest rights; while hoodwink'd justice
Drops her scales, and totters from her basis.
Thus torn with nameless wounds, my bleeding country
Demands a tear—that tear I'll freely give her,

Cassius.
Oh! Brutus, our noble ancestors,
Who liv'd for freedom, and for freedom dy'd:
Who scorn'd to roll in affluence, if that state
Was sicken'd o'er with the dread name of slaves:
Who in this desart stock'd with beasts and men,
Whose untam'd souls breath'd nought but slaughter—
Grasp'd at freedom, and they nobly won it;
Then smil'd and dy'd contented, Should these heroes,
Start from their tombs and view their dear possessions,
The price of so much labor, cost and blood,
Gods! what a pang 'twould cost them; yes, they'd weep,
Nor weep in vain. That good old spirit,
Which warm'd them once, would rouse to noble actions.
E're they would cringe they'd bathe their swords in blood;
In heaps they'd fall, and on the pile of freedom,
Expire like heroes, or they'd save their country.

Brutus.
Oh! Cassius, you inspire a noble passion,
It glows within me, and every pulse I feel,
Beats high for glory.—I sprang, and Oh! it fires me,
I sprang from men, who fought, who bled for freedom:
From men, who in the conflict laugh'd at danger:
Struggl'd like patriots, and through seas of blood,
Waded to conquest.—I'll not disgrace them.
I'll show a spirit worthy of my sire.
Tho' malice dart her stings;—tho' poverty
Stares full upon me;—tho' power with all her thunder,
Rolls o'er my head,—thy cause my bleeding country
I'll never leave—I'll struggle hard for thee,
And if I perish, perish like a freeman.

Cassius.
You're not alone—there are, I know, ten thousand,
Ne'er bow'd the knee to idol power—Repeated insults
Have rous'd the most lethargic. E'en the old man
Whose blood has long creep'd sluggish thro' his vains,
Now feels his warmth renew'd—his pulse beat quick—
His eyes dart fire—he grasps his sword,
And calls on youth to aid him—yea my son,
My little son, who sportive climbs my knees,
Fondly intreats my aid, and lisps out freedom.
But see our friends—their generous bosoms glow.
With manly Sentiment:—I will accost them.
Patriots hail!—

Enter Junius and Portius.
Portius.
All hail my friends!—
Well met I trust, and with one heart and mind,
We have lately seen a piece of pageantry,
Near Imports mansion, big with mighty meaning.
The period dawns, when all those parricides,
Who long had sported with their country's, ruin,
Begin to tremble—Shame, contempt croud on them.
The boy despises, and the stripling smiles.

Brutus.
'Tis well—here lies my hope:—let but a sense,
A manly sense of injur'd freedom wake them,
The day's half won. The cold inactive spirit
That slumbers in its chains,—at this I tremble.
Oh! patriots rouse. The distant branches lop'd,
The root now groans—let not the thought of power,
Ungenerous thought! freeze up the genial current.
'Tis not a conquest, merely, leads to fame—
Th' attempt enobles. Yes, the suffering patriot
Tow'rs while he bleeds, and triumphs while he dies.

Junius.
When Brutus speaks, old age grows young.
Whatever right I've lost! I've still a dagger,
And have a hand to wield it—'tis true it shakes—
With age it shakes: Yet in the cause of freedom,
It catches vigor. You shall find it strike
The tyrant from his Throne.

Brutus.
Thou good old man.
Thy words a noble ardor kindle in me.
Come patriots, let the bright example fire you.
By all that's sacred! by our father's shades!
Illustrious shades! who hover o'er this country.
And watch like guardian angels o'er its rights:
By all that blood, that precious blood they spilt,
To gain for us the happiest boon of Heaven:
By life—by death—or still to catch you more,
By LIBERTY, by BONDAGE. I conjure you.

All.
Nor is it vain. We swear, e'er we'll be slaves,
We'll pour our choicest blood. No terms shall move us.
These streets we'll pave with many an human skull.
Carnage, blood and death, shall be familiar,
Tho' Servia weep her desolated realms.

Brutus.
'Tis bravely spoke. And now thou power supreme!
Who hatest wrong, and wills creation happy,
Hear and revenge a bleeding country's groans;
Teach us to act with firmness and with zeal:
'Till happier prospects gild the gloomy waste.
While from our fate shall future ages know,
Virtue and freedom are thy care below.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Chamber in Repatio's House.
Enter Rapatio, solus.
Hail happy day! In which I find my wishes,
My gayest wishes crown'd. Brundo retir'd,
The stage is clear. Whatever gilded prospects
E'er swam before me—Honor, places, pensions—
All at command—Oh! my full heart! 'twill burst!
Now patriots think, think on the past and tremble.
Think on that gloomy night, when, as you phras'd it,
Indignant justice rear'd her awful front,
And frown'd me from her—when ten thousand monsters,
Wretches who only claim'd mere outward form,
To give a sanction to humanity
Broke my retirement—rush'd into my chamber,
And rifled all my secrets—then slung me helpless,
Naked and destitute, to beg protection.
Hell! what a night was this—and do they think,
I'll e'er forget such treatment! No. Ye gods—
If there is any secret sympathy,
Which born, and bred together, they may claim,
I give it to the winds—out! out! vile passion,
I'll trample down the choicest of their rights,
And make them curse the hour that gave me birth;
That hung me up a meteor in the sky,
Which from its tail, shook pestilence and ruin.
But here comes Dupe, a creature form'd by nature
To be a sycophant—Tho I despis'd him,
Yet he's too necessary for my purpose,
To be relinquish'd—I'll take him by the hand—
Give him a bow, and buoy up his hopes—
He's mine for ever.—

Enter Dupe.
Dupe.
It gives me highest joy to see your honor
Servia's sole ruler—what tho' not complete,
And primly seated in the chair of power,
Yet all the reins of government you hold.
And should that happy period e'er arrive
When Brundo quits for thee entire possession,
Remember Dupe, and think on former friendships.

Rapatio.
I'll not forget. And well thou said I held
The rains of power; and I will make them feel it.
And, happy for me, all the posts of honor,
Are fill'd with beings wholly at my service.
The b---h what are they? Creatures of my own;
Who if I spoke, would mangle law and reason,
And nobly trample on the highest ties.
And hence the soldier, whose security,
Is the prime basis of my government,
May scoff, insult, nay, in the face of day,
Abuse the citizens, yet go unpunish'd.
P---p too, an happy creature this
To serve a turn—tho' men whose breath was slaughter,
Should urge the meanest of our servants on—
To bathe their daggers in their masters blood,
P---p stays, proceedings—At my nod,
Will break thro' every tie of law and justice,
And bid those monsters go—In short all orders
Obey my summons, and perform my will.

Dupe.
What halcyon days!—And have I liv'd to see them?
And share them too? enough—I've liv'd my day.

Rapatio.
But tell me Dupe, they say these muttering wretches,
Grow fond of riot, and with pageantry,
Do ridicule the friends of government.

Dupe.
The thing is fact—The worthy citizen
Finds property precarious—all things tend
To anarchy and ruin.

Rapatio.
I'll make the scoundrels know who sways the sceptre,
Before I'll suffer this, I'll throw the state,
In dire confusion, nay I'll hurl it down,
And bury all things in one common ruin.
O'er fields of death, with hastning step I'll speed,
And smile at length to see my country bleed:
From my tame heart the pang of virtue sling,
And mid the general flame like Nero sing.—

[Exeunt.