University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Numitoria, Virginia.
Nu.
What thus delays thee? Come: to our abode
Let us return.

Virginia.
Mother, whene'er I pass
This forum, recollections deep and lofty
Delay my progress. It was in this place
That erewhile thunder'd from Icilius' lips
The sentiments of freedom: heard no more:
Absolute power long since has made him mute.
How just are both his anger and his grief!

Nu.
To-day, perhaps, to his so many griefs
May yield some solace, if he truly love thee.

Virginia.
To-day? ... If he sincerely love me? ... Speak! ...

Nu.
Virginia, yes: at last thy father hears,
And grants fulfilment to thy fervent wishes:
He from the camp has written, and proposes
Himself to accelerate thy nuptial rites.

Virginia.
Is it then true, that, of my lingering hopes,
I gain at last the object? Dearest mother,
How happy thou hast made me!

Nu.
To Virginius,
Not less than to thyself, for a long time
Icilius has been dear: they both are Romans:
And are so more by actions than by name.
It was not ever possible for thee
To fix more loftily thy partial fondness
Than in Icilius' heart: nor did thy father,
Till equal to thy beauty was thy virtue,
Affiance thee to him: he would thou wert
Worthy Icilius, ere Icilius' spouse.

Virginia.
And does he think me so to-day? oh joy
Immense and unexpected! To obtain
A husband like Icilius, seems to me
The first of every blessing: yet it is
A far superior blessing to deserve him.

Nu.
Thou meritest his hand; and he alone,
Of all the Roman youth, does merit thine;
He that dares shew himself a Roman yet,
While Rome debased in guilty silence stands
Astonish'd, and, though plunged in servitude,
Thinks herself free. Ah, were they like to him,
Th'illustrious traitors to the commonwealth,
Who, while with exultation they recount,
Disgrace, the achievements of their ancestors.
Sense, virtue, valour, uncorrupted faith,
Have, in Icilius' bosom, found a home.

Virginia.
He is not noble, that for me suffices,
Nor to the tyrants of his country sold:
Hence is he grateful to my unspoil'd heart.
Upon his liberal, enterprising brow,
I see the magnanimity enthroned
That designates a genuine son of Rome.
In these degenerate times, when even they
Who flatter, tremble, his intrepid speech,
His unperturbed heart, his noble rage,
These are the qualities by him possess'd,
Which have enthrall'd the affections of my heart.
Myself plebeian, I dare boast myself
The equal of Icilius; I should weep,
Since I were then to him inferior,
Were I from noble ancestors descended.

Nu.
Thou didst imbibe, e'en with thy milk from me,
A detestation of patrician blood.
Foster that hatred; 'tis their due, who are,
As prosperous accidents, or adverse, rise,
Now proud, now humble, always infamous.

Virginia.
Shall I belie my birth? Thou know'st not, mother,
A cause, which that magnanimous contempt
In me redoubles. I will now relate
Some private injuries hitherto concealed.

Nu.
Let us meanwhile press forward.

Virginia.
Thou shalt hear
To what this beauty, only prized by me,
Since grateful to Icilius, hath exposed me.

SCENE THE SECOND.

Virginia, Numitoria, Marcus, Slaves.
Mar.
This is the damsel. Slaves, without delay,
Drag her to my abode: she, like yourselves,
Was born my servant.

Nu.
What is it that I hear?
And who art thou that dar'st to designate
As slave, a Roman lady?

Mar.
Thy deceit
Is known, and vainly wouldst thou rescue her
From her predestined servitude. Her birth
To thee she owes not, neither is it free.
I also am a citizen of Rome;
I know, and fear, and I observe the laws;
And from those laws the courage I derive,
That which belongs to me to take by force.

Virginia.
I born a slave? Am I the slave of Marcus?

Nu.
She not my daughter? Thou perfidious wretch,
Dar'st style thyself a Roman citizen?
From thy flagitious actions, and thy words,
I take thee for a satellite of those
Who now oppress their country, and of these
The most degraded. But whoe'er thou art,
Learn that we are plebeians, of a race
Unsullied; that all violence and fraud
From infamous patricians, and their clients,
May be expected here: and, further learn,
That of this maid Virginius is the father,
And I the spouse of that Virginius;
That for his native Rome, now in the camp
He toils in arms; that he may well suffice
To disconcert thy impious hardihood ...

Mar.
And that, deceived by thee, he deems this virgin,
Purchased illegally, to be his child:
Nor hath he known, nor knows, the art by which
Thou hast imposed on him a child not his.
But thou shalt hear me, in a fitting place,
Proofs irrefragable of this adduce.
Meanwhile my slave shall be reclaim'd by me.
I am no liar, nor Virginius fear:
Beneath the sacred guardianship I stand
Securely, of inviolable laws.

Virginia.
Mother, and shall I lose thee, and with thee,
My sire, my husband, and my liberty?

Nu.
I call to witness Rome, and all her gods,
She is my daughter.

Mar.
Thou in vain dost swear;
In vain defiest me. Without delay
My slaves she follows; or, compell'd by force,
She shall go hence. If so thou wilt, hereafter,
Before an uncorrupt, supreme tribunal,
To give an ample reason, I am ready
For what I've done.

Nu.
Thou deem'st thyself more strong
Than powerless women; hence thy hardihood:
But with impunity thou shalt not now
Adopt coercive measures. Ill, I warn thee,
Ill chosen is the scene for infamy:
This is the Roman forum; know'st it not?
Retire; the multitude will flock together
At our laments: of virgin innocence
Avengers rise by thousands and by thousands.

Virginia.
If no avenger should espouse my cause,
Blood-hounds, you should be forced to slay me here
Rather than drag me as a slave. I am,
I feel, the daughter of a lofty sire:
I feel my Roman and my free-born heart
Bound high within my breast. Far different,
Far different were that heart, if sprung from one
Vile like thyself, I were a viler slave.

Mar.
Quickly shalt thou resume thy servile thoughts
Amid thy native fetters; by one stroke
Thy fate, and thy deportment, shall be changed.
Meanwhile, in contests frivolous and vain,
The hours pass on.

Nu.
Together with my daughter
I would be led.

Virginia.
No violence shall tear me,
Oh mother, from thy side.

Mar.
Vain is the struggle.
From her false mother, wrest by violence
The fugitive slave.

Virginia.
If there be pity in you,
Rescue me, valiant Romans.

Nu.
Generous sons
Of Mars! this virgin, whom I clasp so fondly
To my maternal breast, was born, like you,
Free and a Roman: shall these impious slaves
Tear her from me by force? before your eyes?
E'en in the midst of Rome? and in the presence
Of our most sacred temples?

SCENE THE THIRD.

Icilius, People, Numitoria, Virginia, Marcus.
Ici.
What disturbance?
What screams? oh, heaven! what is it that I see?
Virginia!

Virginia.
Defend me ...

Nu.
Heaven has sent thee;
Run; fly; with danger imminent thy spouse
Is threatened.

Virginia.
I am torn from thee, my mother,
And from myself. That man has vilified
Me with the name of Slave.

Ici.
Of slave? oh vile!
Are these thy noble enterprises? Thou,
Art thou more skill'd to combat in the forum
Than in the camp? Oh! of all slaves the worst,
Dar'st thou to stain this maid with servitude?

Mar.
Icilius, thou accustomed to debates,
Fostered in discord and fierce turbulence,
It well becomes thee, that, to awaken tumults,
The food congenial to thy wrathful nature,
Thou shouldst assign this frivolous pretence.
But since, in spite of thee, there are at Rome
Most sacred laws, what cause have I to fear thee?
She is my slave; yes, she; once more I say it;
And I, to whom it most imports to prove it,
Will prove her to be so. Nor thou, I deem,
Nor those, like thee, whose contumacious scowl
Bespeaks their factious nature, are my judges.

Ici.
Icilius, and a few like him, here stand
Tremendous advocates of innocence.
Ye that are Romans, listen to my words.
I, who have never forfeited my oath;
I, who have ne'er betray'd or sold my honour;
Who equally exult that I possess
Ignoble parents, and a noble heart;
Listen to me; to you I speak. This virgin,
Free-born and innocent, is Virginius' daughter ...
At the mere mention of that name, I see
A noble indignation in your eyes.
For you Virginius combats in the camp:
Oh see on what degenerate times we have fallen!
Meanwhile, exposed to shame, exposed to outrage,
His child remains in Rome. Who is the culprit?
Come forward, Marcus; shew thyself ... But what?
Thou tremblest? ... Look at him, ye know him well;
Chief minister, and vilest satellite,
Of Appius, the arch-tyrant of our times;
Of Appius, mortal foe of every virtue;
Of Appius, the oppressor, harden'd, proud,
Ferocious; who your freedom has destroy'd;
And, to increase the insult, spares your lives.
To me Virginia was betroth'd; I love her.
Who I, that thus address you, am, I think
'Tis needless to remind you: I was once
Your tribune, your defender once ... in vain:
For rather did ye trust the blandishments
Of flattering words, than my sincere reproofs:
We now receive for this our punishment,
Our common servitude ... Words here are useless.
Well as ye know his name, the arm, the heart,
The hardihood of Icilius ye know.
Free, at your hands, do I demand my spouse.
He asks her not of you; calls her his slave,
Seizes her person, drags her on by force.
Which is the liar, Marcus or Icilius?
Give sentence, thou, people of mighty Rome.

Mar.
Those laws, oh sovereign people, which ye framed,
Tremendous, wise, and sacred, dare ye be
The first now to infringe? No; for the gods
Of Rome will not permit it. On my head,
Then, may the weight of your resentment fall
When I am convicted as an unjust claimant:
But while that vain boasts, and atrocious insults,
And horrible contemptuousness evinced
Towards supreme, legitimated power,
Are the sole arms by which I am opposed,
Say, which of you will venture from her lord
To force his rightful slave?

Ici.
I first; and I
Shall have as many comrades to this deed,
As there are Romans here. Thy fraudful claim,
Doubtless, some impious mystery conceals:
Now, by what reason thou art thus impelled
Who knows? who can, who would, know it? not I;
I only, that the infamous effect
Shall not ensue. Rome, since she fell a prey
To the detested ten, under pretence
Of law, enough already hath endured
From force, from shame, from slaughter. Hitherto
I am not used to outrage: who endures,
Deserves it. Never can she be a slave
Who is affianced to Icilius; ... never,
E'en were she born a slave. Was ever law
Like this unjust? Slaves in the very lap
Of liberty? And slaves to whom? ... To what? ...
To the insulting pride of our oppressors.
Slaves are not for the people; not for us;
Who have both hearts and hands. But let this Rome
Have slaves by thousands, and by tens of thousands,
So that Virginia be not of the number,
Romans, meanwhile believe me: I affirm
She is the daughter of Virginius:
Her modest gestures, and her face declare it;
Her lofty feelings, and her ripened sense.
I love her; she is destined to be mine;
Shall I thus lose her?

People.
Miserable husband!
And who can tell who instigates this man?

Ici.
Oh! I perceive ye feel compassion for me;
And I deserve it; on the very day
When I believed that I, of all my hopes,
Had gain'd the summit, see, I am at once
Plunged in the lowest depths of misery.
I have abundant enemies in Rome;
And all your enemies; powerful enough,
But still more cunning. Who can tell? Perchance,
First having robbed me of my liberty,
They now would rob me of my wife. Behold
Their hardihood! Fables they first invent;
And this man comes to give their lies a substance ...
Ah, native Rome! to what art thou condemned? ...
Flagitious nobles, you are here the slaves:
Ye should be laden with opprobrious fetters;
Ye, in whose bosoms, fraud and cowardice,
Avarice, ambition, find a fit abode;
Ye who by envy are for ever gnawed,
Malice, and jealousy, and rancorous hate,
At our plebeian virtues, by yourselves
Not only never practised, but unknown.
Ye persecutors, clench our galling chains,
And doubly captivate the multitude:
The impious slavery, the woes of all,
Rather would they behold, than share with us
The sweets of liberty: by nature cruel,
To them our joy is grief, our grief a joy.
But that the times will change, I hope; and may
The day for this be near.

People.
Oh, were it so!
But ...

Mar.
Cease; no more: wouldst thou, perhaps; again
Create thyself a tribune of the people?
Blood and sedition, more than aught, I know
Are grateful to thy nature; but may Heaven
Forbid to-day that I should be to thee
The means of such calamitous effects.
Practise on these, and artfully infuse
Thy poisonous influence; to its virulence
No other remedy will I oppose
Than what the laws provide. I summon you,
Virginia I summon; and, with her,
Her falsely seeming mother, to appear
At the tribunal before Appius:
There not fierce turbulence, and frantic howlings,
But tranquil reason will decide our cause.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Icilius, Virginia, Numitoria, People.
Ici.
To the tribunal I myself will lead her.
Romans (I now address the few, the free,
And the courageous) you, I hope, will be
Of this great cause spectators: I invite you:
Our final litigation this will be.
Hence will each husband, and each father learn,
If he a wife or daughter have in Rome.

SCENE THE FIFTH.

Icilius, Numitoria, Virginia.
Nu.
Disastrous times! Days for degenerate deeds!
Oh, wretched mothers! ...

Virginia.
In thine eyes, oh spouse,
But for my father I had had no value.
Now I am bereft of him, how shall I dare
Proclaim myself thy wife?

Ici.
Thou shalt be ever
Virginius' daughter, and Icilius' wife,
And, which is more, I swear to thee, a Roman.
To be the faithful partner of my fate
Thee have I chosen; equal to myself
In virtue I esteem thee. To my lips
Phrases more soft than this love dictates not;
My arms, my heart, if need there be, will give
Proofs more conclusive of my tenderness.
But can ye guess the motive that impels
That miscreant thus to insult thee?

Virginia.
Say'dst thou not
He is the creature of the tyrant Appius?

Ici.
The servile tool of all his inclinations.

Virginia.
The reason then is too well known to me.
For a long time, with a flagitious love,
Has Appius burned for me ...

Ici.
What do I hear?
Oh insolence! ...

Nu.
We then are lost. Oh heavens!

Ici.
I live; and I have yet a sword. Fear not,
Oh ladies, fear not while Icilius breathes.

Virginia.
Listen, and shudder at his guilty boldness.
Oft has he tried to practise on my virtue
By circumvention, or seductive arts.
Menaces, promises, prayers, flatteries, gifts,
Whate'er is deem'd the price of chastity
To base patricians, he to me has offered.
Th'insufferable, and atrocious insult
I long dissembled: in the distant camp
My sire was stationed; and in vain, from me,
Alone, and powerless, had my mother heard it.
But now my lot assumes a different aspect:
I am thy wife, I am no longer silent.
Oh thou, the noblest of the Romans, thine
Not only is th'offence, but thine the vengeance.
Rivers of tears I silently have shed;
My tender mother often wept with me,
Pitying my grief, though ignorant of its cause.
Behold the horrid secret. Appius adds
Fraud now, and violence, to his former arts;
He is at once the plaintiff and the judge:
I shall be taken from thee, ere I can
Be thine: ah grant, at least, that he obtain me
No otherwise than dead!

Ici.
Ere thou be his,
Or ere he shed thy blood, shall Rome behold
Herself with blood inundated: my blood,
And that of every hero, shall be spill'd.
To those who fear not death, and who is Appius,
But one, and one the lowest of mankind?

Nu.
Appius, alas! too much surpasses thee
In artifice.

Ici.
Though cruel and unjust,
Appius has hitherto at least preserved
The exterior of equity; all Rome
Will be assembled at th'important cause:
We need not yet despair. We stand in need
Of fortitude and judgment: above all
The father here is indispensable.
The camp is not far distant; it shall be
My first solicitude to reconduct
Him here without delay. Let us go hence;
Meanwhile, to your abode I am your guide.
A solace to you, ladies, sad, 'tis true,
But yet the only one that I can now
Propose to you, be the assured conviction,
That, if a path to justice is not opened,
Our swords, I swear, shall open one to vengeance.