University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A private apartment in the house of Sulpicius.
Enter Sulpicius and Orceres by opposite sides.
Sul.
So soon return'd!—I read not in thy face
Aught to encourage or depress my wishes.
How is it, noble friend?

Or.
E'en as it was ere I received my mission.
Cordenius Maro is on public duty;
I have not seen him.—When he knows your offer,
His heart will bound with joy, like eaglet plumed,
Whose outstretch'd pinions, wheeling round and round,
Shape their first circles in the sunny air.

Sul.
And with good cause.

Or.
Methinks I see him now!
A face with blushes mantling to the brow,
Eyes with bright tears surcharged, and parted lips
Quiv'ring to utter joy which hath no words.

Sul.
His face, indeed, as I have heard thee say,
Is like a wave which sun and shadow cross;
Each thought makes there its momentary mark.

Or.
And then his towering form, and vaulting step,
As tenderness gives way to exultation!
O! it had been a feast to look upon him;
And still shall be.

Sul.
Art thou so well convinced
He loves my little damsel?—She is fair,
But seems to me too simple, gay, and thoughtless,
For noble Maro. Heiress as she is
To all my wealth, had I suspected sooner,
That he had smother'd wishes in his breast
As too presumptuous, or that she in secret
Preferr'd his silent homage to the praise
Of any other man, I had most frankly
Removed all hindrance to so fair a suit.
For, in these changeling and degenerate days,
I scarcely know a man of nobler worth.

Or.
Thou scarcely knowst! Say certainly thou dost not.
He is, to honest right, as simply true
As shepherd child on desert pasture bred,
Where falsehood and deceit have never been;
And to maintain them, ardent, skilful, potent,
As the shrewd leader of unruly tribes.
A simple heart and subtle spirit join'd
Make such an union, as in Nero's court
May pass for curious and unnatural.

Sul.
But is the public duty very urgent
That so untowardly delays our happiness?

Or.
The punishment of those poor Nazarenes,
Who, in defiance of imperial power,
To their forbidden faith and rights adhere
With obstinacy most astonishing.

Sul.
A stubborn contumacy, unaccountable!

Or.
There's sorcery in it, or some stronger power.
But be it what it may, or good, or ill,
They look on death in its most dreadful form,
As martial heroes on a wreath of triumph.
The fires are kindled in the place of death,
And bells toll dismally. The life of Rome
In one vast clust'ring mass hangs round the spot,
And no one to his neighbour utters word,
But in an alter'd voice, with breath restrain'd,
Like those who speak at midnight near the dead.
Cordenius heads the band that guards the pile;
So station'd, who could speak to him of pleasure?
My words had come like sounds of evil omen.

Sul.
Cease; here comes Portia, with a careless face:
She knows not yet the happiness that waits her.

Or.
Who brings she with her thus, as if compell'd
By playful force?

Sul.
'Tis her Numidian page; a cunning imp,
Who must be woo'd to do the thing he's proud of.

Enter Portia, dragging Syphax after her, speaking as she enters.
Portia.
Come in, deceitful thing!—I know thee well;
With all thy sly affected bashfulness,
Thou'rt bold enough to sing in Cæsar's court,
With the whole senate present. (To Orceres.)

Prince of Parthia,
I knew not you were here; but yet I guess
The song which this sly creature sings so well,
Will please you also.

Or.
How can it fail, fair Portia, so commended?

Sul.
What is this boasted lay?

Portia.
That tune, my father,
Which you so oft have tried to recollect;
But link'd with other words, of new device,
That please my fancy well.—Come, sing it, boy!

Sul.
Nay, sing it, Syphax, be not so abash'd,
If thou art really so.—Begin, begin!
But speak thy words distinctly as thou singst,
That I may have their meaning perfectly.


SONG.

Or.
The picture of some very noble hero
These lines pourtray.

Sul.
So it should seem; one of the days of old.

Portia.
And why of olden days? There liveth now
The very man—a man—I mean to say,
There may be found among our Roman youth,
One, who in form and feelings may compare
With him, whose lofty virtues these few lines
So well describe.

Or.
Thou meanst the lofty Gorbus.

Portia.
Out on the noisy braggart. Arms without
He hath, indeed, well burnish'd and well plumed,
But the poor soul, within, is pluck'd and bare,
Like any homely thing.

Or.
Sertorius Galba then?

Portia.
O, stranger still!
For if he hath no lack of courage, certes,
He hath much lack of grace. Sertorius Galba!

Or.
Perhaps thou meanst Cordenius Maro, lady.
Thy cheeks grow scarlet at the very name,
Indignant that I still should err so strangely.

Portia.
No, not indignant, for thou errest not;
Nor do I blush, albeit thou thinkst I do,
To say, there is not of our Romans one,
Whose martial form a truer image gives
Of firm heroic courage.

Sul.
Cease, sweet Portia!
He only laughs at thy simplicity.

Or.
Simplicity seen through a harmless wile,
Like to the infant urchin, half conceal'd
Behind his smiling dam's transparent veil.
The song is not a stranger to mine ear,
Methinks I've heard it passing through those wilds,
Whose groves and caves, if rumour speak the truth,
Are by the Nazarenes or Christians haunted.

Sul.
Let it no more be sung within my walls:
A chaunt of their's to bring on pestilence!
Sing it no more. What sounds are those I hear?

Or.
The dismal death-drum and the crowd without.
They are this instant leading past your door
Those wretched Christians to their dreadful doom.

Sul.
We'll go and see them pass.

[Exeunt hastily, Sulpicius, Orceres.
Portia
(stopping her ears).
I cannot look on them, nor hear the sound.
I'll to my chamber.

Page.
May not I, I pray,
Look on them as they pass?

Portia.
No; go not, child:
'Twill frighten thee; it is a horrid sight.

Page.
Yet, an it please you, lady, let me go.

Portia.
I say it is a horrid, piteous sight,
Thou wilt be frighten'd at it.

Page.
Nay, be it e'er so piteous or so horrid,
I have a longing, strong desire to see it.

Portia.
Go then; in this there is no affectation:
There's all the harden'd cruelty of man
Lodged in that tiny form, child as thou art.

[Exeunt severally.