University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A Street in Rome, with the Temple of Mars in view.
Enter Brutus and Collatinus, as Consuls, with Lictors, Valerius, Lucretius, and numerous followers.
Br.
You judge me rightly, friends. The purpled robe
The curule chair, the lictors' keen edg'd axe,
Rejoice not Brutus;—'tis his country's freedom:
When once that freedom shall be firmly rooted
Then, with redoubled pleasure, will your Consul
Exchange the splendid miseries of power,
For the calm comforts of a happy home.

Enter a Messenger.
Mess.
All health to Rome, her Senate and her Consuls.

Br.
Speak on—What message hast thou to impart?

Mess.
I bring intelligence of Sextus Tarquin,
Who, on arriving at a neighbouring village
Was known, and by the people ston'd to death.

Br.
Now, Lucretia!
Thy ghost may cease to wander o'er the earth
And rest in peace!

Luc.
Heaven's ways are just!

Col.
Yet I regret the villain should be slain
By any hand but mine!

Enter a Centurion.
Cent.
Health to Brutus!
Shame and confusion to the foes of Rome!

Br.
Now, without preface, soldier, to your business.

Cent.
As I kept watch at the Quirinal gate
Ere break of day, an armed company
Burst on a sudden through the barrier guard
Pushing their course for Ardea. Straight alarm'd
I wheel'd my cohort round and charg'd 'em home:
Sharp was the conflict for a while and doubtful,
Till, on the seizure of Tarquinia's person,
A young Patrician—

Br.
Hah! Patrician?

Cent.
Such
His dress bespoke him, though to me unknown.

Br.
Proceed!—What more?

Cent.
The lady being taken,
This youth, the life and leader of the band,
His sword high waving in the act to strike,
Dropt his uplifted weapon, and at once
Yielded himself my prisoner.—Oh, Valerius
What have I said, that thus the Consul changes?

Br.
Why do you pause? Go on.

Cent.
Their leader seiz'd,
The rest surrender'd. Him, a settled gloom
Possesses wholly, nor as I believe
Hath a word pass'd his lips, to all my questions
Still obstinately shut.

Br.
Set him before us.

[Exit Centurion.
Val.
Oh, my brave friend, horror invades my heart.

Br.
Silence. Be calm.

Val.
I know thy soul
A compound of all excellence, and pray
The mighty gods to put thee to no trial
Beyond a mortal bearing.

Br.
No, they will not—
Nay, be secure, they cannot. Pr'ythee, friend,
Look out, and if the worst that can befal me
Be verified, turn back, and give some sign
What thou hast seen—Thou can'st excuse this weakness
Being thyself a father.
[Valerius gives the sign.
Ha!—Enough:
I understand thee:—Since it must be so,
Do your great pleasure, gods! Now, now it comes!

Titus and Tarquinia are brought in, guarded. Titus advances. Tarquinia remains in the back ground.
Ti.
My father!—Give me present death, ye powers!

Cent.
What have I done!—Art thou the son of Brutus?

Ti.
No—Brutus scorns to father such a son!
Oh, venereble judge, wilt thou not speak?
Turn not away; hither direct thine eyes,
And look upon this sorrow-stricken form,
Then to thine own great heart remit my plea,
And doom as nature dictates.

Val.
Peace, you'll anger him—
Be silent and await! Oh, suffering mercy,
Plead in a father's heart and speak for nature!

Brutus turns away from his son, waves his hand to the Centurion to remove him to a farther distance, and then walks forward and calls Collatinus down to him.
Br.
Come hither, Collatinus. The deep wound
You suffer'd in the loss of your Lucretia,
Demanded more than fortitude to bear;
I saw your agony—I felt your woe—

Col.
You more than felt it;—you reveng'd it too.

Br.
But, ah, my brother Consul,—your Lucretia
Fell nobly, as a Roman spirit should—
She fell, a model of transcendant virtue.

Col.
My mind misgives. What dost thou aim at, Brutus?

Br.
(almost overpower'd)
—That youth—my Titus—was my age's hope—
I lov'd him more than language can express—
I thought him born to dignify the world.

Col.
My heart bleeds for you—He may yet be sav'd—

Br.
(firmly)
Consul,—for Rome I live,—not for myself,
I dare not trust my firmness in this crisis
Warring 'gainst every thing my soul holds dear!
Therefore return without me to the senate—
I ought not now to take a seat among them—
Haply my presence might restrain their justice.
Look that these traitors meet their trial straight,—
And then dispatch a messenger to tell me
How the wise fathers have dispos'd of—Go!—

Collatinus goes out on one side, attended: —and as Brutus is departing on the other side, Tarquinia rushes forward.
Tar.
Stop,—turn and hear the daughter of your king!
I speak for justice—mercy thou hast none.
For him, your son,
By gratitude and love I drew him off!
I preserv'd his life—
Who shall condemn him for protecting mine?

Br.
We try the crime; the motive, Heaven will judge.
My honour he hath stabb'd—I pardon that.
He hath done more—he hath betray'd his country.
That is a crime which every honest heart
That beats for freedom, every Roman feels,
And the full stream of Justice must have way.

Tar.
Because thy soul was never sway'd by love
Can'st thou not credit what his bosom felt?

Br.
I can believe that beauty such as thine
May spread a thousand facinating snares
To lure the wavering and confound the weak:
But what is honour, which a sigh can shake?
What is his virtue, whom a tear can melt?
Truth,—valour,—justice,—constancy of soul,—
These are the attributes of manly natures:—
Be woman e'er so beauteous, man was made
For nobler uses than to be her slave.

Tar.
Hard, unrelenting man! Are these the fruits
Of filial piety,—and hath thy son
Wearied the gods with pray'rs, till they restor'd
A mind, and gave thee reason? Would to Heaven
They'd given thee mercy too! 'twould more become thee
Than these new ensigns, Brutus; more than all
Thy lictors, haughty consul,—or thy robes
Dipt in the blood,—oh horror!—of a son!—

Br.
No more—By all the gods, I'll hear no more.

Ti.
A word for pity's sake. Before thy feet,
Humbled in soul, thy son and prisoner kneels.
Love is my plea: a father is my judge;
Nature my advocate!—I can no more:
If these will not appease a parent's heart,
Strike through them all and lodge thy vengeance here!

Br.
Break off! I will not, cannot hear thee further.
The affliction nature hath impos'd on Brutus,
Brutus will suffer as he may.—Enough
That we enlarge Tarquinia. Go, be free!
Centurion, give her conduct out of Rome!
Lictors, secure your prisoner. Point your axes.
To the senate—On!
[Exit Brutus.

Cent.
Come, lady, you must part.

Tar.
Part! Must we part?
You shall not tear him from me; I will die
Embracing the sad ruin I have made.

Cent.
You've heard the consul.

Tar.
Thou hast heard the king,
Fought for him while he led you on to conquest.
Thou art a soldier, and should'st spurn an office
Which malefactors, though condemn'd for murder,
Would rather die by torture than perform.

Ti.
If thou dost wish
That I should 'scape the peril of my fate
I conjure thee to accord
To Brutus, and accept his promis'd safeguard.
Your words, your looks, your beauty, feed his wrath.
In that fair face he reads my guilty love,
And pity flies his heart; let passion pause;
Leave me to solitude, to silence leave me;
Then nature's gentlest whispers may be heard.

Tar.
Say'st thou? Conduct me to the dreariest waste
That ever melancholy madness trod,
And let my swelling heart in silence burst;
Plunge me in darkness, shroud this fatal form
In everlasting night, I am content!
Lo! I obey! This is the test of love;
This is the sacrifice:—I part to save thee!

Ti.
See I am warn'd. Farewell, my life's last joy!
When my eyes lose thy image, they may look
On death without dismay. To those blest powers,
Who gave thee every virtue, every grace
That can ensure perfection, I commit thee.

They embrace and are torn asunder. Titus is carried off by the Lictors on one side, and Tarquinia by the Centurion and Guards, on the other.