University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

The Fecialian Garden.
Titus solus.
Tit.
She's gone; and I shall never see her more:
Gone to the Camp, to the harsh trade of War,
Driven from thy bed, just warm within thy brest,
Torn from her harbor by thy Father's hand,
Perhaps to starve upon the barren plain,
Thy Virgin Wife, the very blush of Maids,
The softest bosom sweet, and not enjoy'd:
O the Immortal Gods! and as she went,
How er'e she seem'd to bear our parting well,
Methought she mixt her melting with disdain,
A cast of anger through her Shining tears:
So to abuse her hopes, and blast her wishes,
By making her my Bride, but not a Woman!

[Enter Tiberius, Aquilius, Vitellius, and Priests, with Teraminta.
Tib.
See where he stands, drown'd in his Melancholy.

1. Pri.
Madam, you know the pleasure of the Queen:
And what the Royal Tullia did command
I've sworn to execute.

Ter.
I am instructed.
Since then my life 's at stake, you need not doubt
But I will act with all the Force I can:
Let me intreat you leave me here alone
Some minutes, and I'll call you to the conquest.

[Ex. Tib. Aq. Vitel. Pri.
Tit.
Choose then the gloomy'st place through all the Grove,
Throw thy abandon'd body on the ground,
With thy bare brest lye wedded to the Dew;
Then, as thou drink'st the tears that trickle from thee:
So strtech'd resolve to lye till death shall seize thee:
Thy sorrowful head hung or'e some tumbling Stream,
To rock thy griefs with melancholy sounds,
With broken murmers and redoubled groans,
To help the gurgling of the waters fall,

Ter.
Oh, Titus, Oh, what Scene of Death is this!

Tit.
Or if thy Passion will not be kept in,
As in that glass of nature thou shalt view
Thy swoln drown'd eyes with the inverted banks,
The tops of Willows and their blossoms turn'd,
With all the under Sky ten fathom down,
Wish that the shaddow of the swimming Globe
Were so indeed, that thou migh'st leap at Fate,
And hurl thy Fortune headlong at the Stars:
Nay, do not bear it, turn thy watry face
To yond' misguided Orb, and ask the Gods
For what bold Sin they doom the wretched Titus
To such a loss as that of Teraminta?
O Teraminta! I will groan thy name
Till the tir'd Eccho faint with repetition,
Till all the breathless Grove and quiet Myrtles
Shake with my sighs, as if a Tempest bow'd 'em.
Nothing but Teraminta: O Teraminta!

Ter.
Nothing but Titus: Titus and Teraminta!
Thus let me rob the Fountains and the Groves,
Thus gird me to thee with the fastest knot
Of arms and Spirits that would clasp thee through;
Cold as thou art, and wet with night's faln dews,
Yet dearer so, thus richly dress'd with sorrows,
Than if the Gods had hung thee round with Kingdoms.
Oh, Titus, O!

Tit.
I find thee Teraminta,
Wak'd from a fearful Dream, and hold thee fast:
'Tis real, and I give thee back thy joys,
Thy boundless Love with pleasures running o're;
Nay, as thou art, thus with thy trappings, come,
Leap to my heart, and ride upon the pants,
Triumphing thus, and now defie our Stars.
But, oh, why do we lose this precious moment!
The bliss may yet be bar'd if we delay,
As 'twas before. Come to thy Husband's bed;
I will not think this true till there I hold thee,
Lock'd in my Arms. Leave this Contagious Air;
There will be time for talk how thou cam'st hither
When we have been before hand with the Gods:
Till then—

Ter.
Oh, Titus, you must hear me first.
I bring a Message from the Furious Queen;
I promised nay, she Swore me not to touch you,
Till I had Charm'd you to the part of Tarquin.

Tit.
Ha, Teraminta! not to touch thy Husband,
Unless he prove a Villain?

Ter.
Titus, no;
I'm Sworn to tell you that you are a Traytor,
If you refuse to Fight the Royal Cause.

Tit.
Hold, Teraminta.

Ter.
No, my Lord; 'tis plain,
And I am sworn to lay my Reasons home.
Rouze then, awake, recal your sleeping Virtue;
Side with the King, and Arm against your Father,
Take part with those that Loyally have Sworn
To let him in by Night: Vitellius,
Aquilius, and your Brother wait without;
Therefore I charge you hast, subscribe your name,
And send your vow'd obedience to the King:
'Tis Teraminta that intreats you thus,
Charms, and Conjures you; tell the Royal Heralds
You'l head their Enterprise: and then, my Lord,
My Love, my noble Husband, I'll obey you,
And follow to your bed.

Tit.
Never I swear.
O, Teraminta, thou hast broke my heart:
By all the Gods, from thee this was too much.
Farewel, and take this with thee. For thy sake,
I will not Fight against the King, nor for him:
I'll fly my Father, Brother, Friends for ever,
Forsake the haunts of Men; converse no more
With ought that's Human; dwell with endless darkness:
For, Since the sight of thee is now unwelcome,
What has the World besides that I can bear?

Ter.
Come back, my Lord. By those immortal Pow'rs
You now invok'd, I'll fix you in this virtue.
Your Teraminta did but try how strong
Your Honour stood: and now she finds it lasting,
Will dye to root you in this solid Glory.
Yes, Titus, tho the Queen has Sworn to end me,
Tho both the Fecialians have Commission
To stab me in your presence, if not wrought
To serve the King; yet by the Gods I charge you
Keep to the point your constancy has gain'd.
Tarquin, altho my Father, is a Tyrant,
A bloody black Usurper; so I beg you
Ev'n in my death to view him.

Tit.
Oh you Gods!

Ter.
Yet guilty as he is, if you behold him
Hereafter with his Wounds upon the Earth,
Titus, for my sake, for poor Teraminta,
Who rather dy'd than you should lose your Honor,
Do not you strike him, do not dip your Sword
In Tarquin's blood, because he was my Father.

Tit.
No, Teraminta, no: by all the Gods,
I will defend him, ev'n against my Father.
See, see, my Love; behold the Flight I take:
What all the Charms of thy expected bed
Could not once move my Soul to think of Acting,
Thy tears and menac'd death, by which thou striv'st
To fix me to the Principles of Glory,
Have wrought me off. Yes, yes, you cruel Gods,
Let the eternal Bolts that bind this Frame
Start from their Order: since you push me thus
Ev'n to the Margin of this wide despair,
Behold I plunge at once in this dishonor,
Where there is neither Shore, nor hope of Haven,
No Floating mark through all the dismal Vast;
'Tis Rockless too, no Cliff to clamber up
To gaze about and pause upon the ruin.

Ter.
Is then your purpos'd Honor come to this?
What now, my Lord?

Tit,
Thy death, thy death, my Love:
I'll think on that, and laugh at all the Gods.
Glory, Blood, Nature, tyes of Reverence,
The dues of Birth, respect of Parents, all,
All are as this, the Air I drive before me.
What so! Vitellius, and Aquilius, come,
And you the Fecialian Heralds, hast
I'm ready for the leap, I'll take it with you
Tho deep as to the Fiends.

Ter.
Thus hear me, Titus.

Tit.
Off from my knees, away.
What on this Theam, thy death? nay, stab'd before me!
[Enter Priests, with Tiberius, Aquilius, Vitellius.
Speak not; I will not know thee on this Subject,
But push thee from my heart, with all persuasions
That now are lost upon me. O, Tiberius,
Aquilius, and Vitellius, welcome, welcome;
I'll joyn you in the Conjuration, come:
I am as free as he that dares be formost.

Ter.
My Lord, my Husband.

Tit.
Take this woman from me.
Nay look you, Sirs, I am not yet so gon,
So headlong neither in this damn'd Design
To quench this Horrid thirst with Brutus blood:
No, by th' eternal Gods, I bar you that;
My Father shall not bleed.

Tib.
You could not think
Your Brother sure so Monstrous in his kind.
As not to make our Father's life his care.

Tit.
Thus then, my Lords, I List my self among you.
And with my Style in short Subscribe my self
The Servant to the King; my words are these.
Titus to the King,
Sir, you need only know my Brother's mind
To judge of me, who am resolv'd to serve you,

1. Pri.
'Tis full enough.

Tit.
Then leave me to the hire
Of this hard labor, to the dear bought prize,
Exeunt. Tib. Aquil. Vitell. and Priests.
Whose life I purchas'd with my loss of Honor:
Come to my brests, thou Tempest-beaten Flower,
Brim-full of Rain, and stick upon my heart.
O short liv'd Rose! yet I some hours will wear thee:
Yes, by the Gods, I'll smell thee till I languish,
Rifle thy sweets, and run the o're and o're,
Fall like the Night upon thy folding beauties,
And clasp thee dead: Then, like the Morning Sun,
With a new heat kiss thee to life again,
And make the pleasure equal to the pain.