 | The History and Fall of Caius Marius |  |
12
ACT II.
Enter Metellus and Nurse.Metell.
I cannot rest to night: Ill-boding Thoughts
Have chas'd soft Sleep from my unsettled Brains.
This seems Lavinia's Chamber, and she up.
Rest too to night has bin a stranger here.
Lavinia! my Daughter, hoa! where art thou?
Nurse.
Now by my Maidenhead, (at twelve years old I had one)
Come: what, Lamb? what, Lady-bird? Gods forbid.
Where's this Girl Lavinia?
Enter Lavinia.
Lavin.
How now? who calls?
Nurse.
Your Father, Child.
Lavin.
I'm here. Your Lordship's pleasure.
Metell.
Why up at this unlucky time of Night,
When nought but loathsome Vermin are abroad,
Or Witches gathering pois'nous Herbs for Spells
By the pale light of the cold waning Moon?
Lavin.
Alas! I could not sleep: in a sad Dream,
Methought I saw one standing by my Bed,
To warn me I should have a care of Sleep,
For 'twould be banefull—
Metell.
Dreams give Children Fears.
Lavin.
At which I rose from my uneasy Pillows,
And to my Closet went, to pray the Gods.
T' avert th' unlucky Omen.
Metell.
'Twas well done.
Nurse, give us leave a while: I must impart
Something to my Lavinia. Yet stay,
And hear it too. Thou know'st Lavinia's Age.
Nurse.
'Faith, I know her Age to an hour.
Metell.
She's bare Sixteen.
Nurse.
I'll lay Sixteen of my Teeth of it; and yet no Disparagement,
I have but Six: she's not Sixteen. How long is't now
since Marius triumph'd last?
Metell.
No matter, Woman, what is that to thee?
Nurse.
Even or odd, of all days in the year, since Marius enter'd
13
then too was but a Boy. My Lais and she were both of an Age.
Well, Lais is in Happiness: she was too good for me. But as I
was saying, a month hence she 'll be Sixteen. 'Tis since Marius
triumph'd now full Thirteen years, and then she was weaned. Sure
I shall never forget it of all days.... Upon that day, (for I had then
laid Wormseed to my Breast, sitting in the Sun under the Dovehouse-Wall)
my Lady and you were at the Show. Nay, I do bear
a Brain! but, as I said before, when it did tast the Wormseed on
my Nipple, and felt it bitter, pretty Fool! to see it teachy and fall
out with the Nipple. Shout quo' the people in the streets. 'Twas
no need, I trow, to bid me trudge. And since that time it is Thirteen
years; and then she cou'd stand alone, nay, she cou'd run and waddle
all about: for just the day before, she broke her Forehead, and then
my Husband (Peace be with him, he was a merry man) took up
the Baggage. Ay, quoth he, dost thou fall upon thy Face? thou
wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; wilt thou not, Vinny?
and by my fackings, the pretty Chit left Crying, and said, Ay....
I warrant and I should live a Thousand years, I never should forget
it. Wilt thou not, Vinny? quoth he; and, pretty Fool, it stopt, and
said, Ay.
Metell.
Enough of this; stop thy impertinent Chat.
Nurse.
Yes, my Lord: yet I cannot chuse but laugh, to think it
should leave Crying, and say, Ay.... And yet in sadness it had a
Bump on its Brow as big as a Cockrill's stone, a parlous Knock,
and it cry'd bitterly. Ay, quo' my Husband, fall'st upon thy Face?
thou wilt fall backward when thou com'st to Age, wilt thou not,
Vinny? Look you now, it stinted, and said, Ay....
Metell.
Intolerable trifling Gossip, peace.
Nurse.
Well; thou wast the pretty'st Babe that e're I nurst. Might
I but live to see thee marry'd once, I should be happy. It stinted,
and said, Ay.
Metell.
What think you then of Marriage, my Lavinia?
It was the subject that I came to treat of.
Lavin.
It is a thing I have not dreamt of yet.
Nurse.
Thing? the thing of Marriage? were I not thy Nurse,
I would swear thou hadst suckt thy Wisedome from thy Teat
The thing?
Metell.
Think of it now then, for I come to make
Proposals may be worthy of your Wishes.
They are for Sylla, the young, the gay, the handsome,
Noble in Birth and Mind, the valiant Sylla.
Nurse.
A man, young Lady, Lady, such a man as all the world...
why, he's a man of Wax.
Metell.
Consider, Child, my Hopes are all in Thee.
And now Old age gains ground so fast upon me,
14
For Thee are not the smallest.
Therefore I've made Alliance with this Sylla,
A high-born Lord, and of the noblest Hopes
That Rome can boast, to give thee to his Arms;
So in the Winter of my Age to find
Rest from all worldly Cares, and kind rejoycing
In the warm Sun-shine of thy Happiness.
Lavin.
If Happiness be seated in Content,
Or that my being blest can make you so,
Let me implore it on my Knees. I am
Your onely Child, and still, through all the Course
Of my past Life, have bin obedient too:
And as y' have ever bin a loving Parent,
And bred me up with watchfull tender'st Care,
Which never cost me hitherto a Tear;
Name not that Sylla any more: indeed
I cannot love him.
Metell.
Why?
Lavin.
In deed I cannot.
Metell.
Oh early Disobedience! by the Gods,
Debaucht already to her Sexe's Folly,
Perverseness, and untoward headstrong Will!
Lavin.
Think me not so; I gladly shall submit
To any thing; nay, must submit to all:
Yet think a little, or you sell my Peace.
The Rites of Marriage are of mighty moment:
And should you violate a thing so Sacred
Into a lawful Rape, and load my Soul
With hatefull Bonds, which never can grow easy,
How miserable am I like to be?
Metell.
Has then some other taken up your Heart?
And banisht Duty as an Exile thence?
What sensual lewd Companion of the Night
Have you bin holding Conversation with,
From open Windows at a midnight-hour,
When your loose Wishes would not let you sleep?
Lavin.
If I should love, is that a fault in one
So young as I? I cannot guess the Cause,
But when you first nam'd Sylla for my Love,
My Heart shrunk back as if you'd done it wrong.
If I did love, I'd tell you .... if I durst.
Oh Marius!
Metell.
Hah!
Lavin.
'T was Marius, Sir, I nam'd,
That Enemy to you and all your House.
15
Demanded me in Marriage for his Son.
Yet, Sir, believe me, I as soon cou'd wed
That Marius, whom I've cause to hate, as Sylla.
Metell.
No more: by all the Gods, 'twill make me mad,
That daily, nightly, hourly, every way
My care has bin to make thy Fortune high;
And having now provided thee a Lord
Of noblest Parentage, of fair Demeans,
Early in Fame, Youthful, and well ally'd,
In every thing as thought cou'd wish a man,
To have at last a wretched puling Fool,
A whining Suckling, ignorant of her Good,
To answer, I'll not wed, I cannot love.
If thou art mine, resolve upon Compliance,
Or think no more to rest beneath my Roofs.
Go, try thy Risk in Fortune's barren Field,
Graze where thou wilt, but think no more of Me,
Till thy Obedience welcome thy Return.
Lavin.
Will you then quite cast off your poor Lavinia?
And turn me like a Vagrant out of Doors,
To wander up and down the streets of Rome,
And beg my bread with sorrow? Can I bear
The proud and hard Revilings of a Slave,
Fat with his Master's plenty, when I ask
A little Pity for my pinching Wants?
Shall I endure the cold, wet, windy Night,
To seek a shelter under dropping Eves,
A Porch my Bed, a Threshold for my Pillow,
Shiv'ring and starv'd for want of warmth and food,
Swell'd with my Sighs, and almost choak'd with Tears?
Must I at the uncharitable Gates
Of proud great men implore Relief in vain?
Must I, your poor Lavinia, bear all this,
Because I am not Mistriss of my Heart,
Or cannot love according to your liking?
Metell.
Art thou not Mistriss of thy Heart then?
Lavin.
No.
'Tis giv'n away.
Metell.
To whom?
Lavin.
I dare not tell.
But I'll endeavour strangely to forget him,
If you'll forget but Sylla.
Metell.
Thou dost well.
Conceal his Name if thou'dst preserve his Life.
For if there be a Death in Rome that might
16
Curst be thy Purposes, most curst thy Love.
And if thou marry'st, in thy Wedding-night
May all the Curses of an injur'd Parent
Fall thick, and blast the Blessings of thy Bed.
Lavin.
What have you done? alas! Sir, as you spoke,
Methought the Fury of your words took place,
And struck my Heart, like Lightning, dead within me.
Gone too?
[Ex. Metell.
Is there no Pity sitting in the Clouds
That sees into the bottom of my Grief?
Alas! that ever Heav'n should practise Strategems
Upon so soft a Subject as my self!
What say'st Thou? hast not thou a word of Joy?
Some Comfort, Nurse, in this Extremity.
Nurse.
Marry, and there's but need on't: 'ods my life, this Dad
of ours was an arrant Wag in his young days for all this. Well,
and what then? Marius is a Man, and so's Sylla. Oh! but Marius's
Lip! and then Sylla's Nose and Forehead! But then Marius's
Eye agen! how 'twill sparkle, and twinckle, and rowl, and sleer?
But to see Sylla a horseback! But to see Marius walk, or dance!
such a Leg, such a Foot, such a Shape, such a Motion. Ahhh...
Well, Marius is the man, must be the man, and shall be the man.
Lavin.
He's by his Father's Nature rough and fierce,
And knows not yet the follies of my Love:
And when he does, perhaps may scorn and hate me.
Nurse.
Yes, yes, he's a rude, unmannerly, ill-bred Fellow. He is
not the Flow'r of Curtesy; but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a
Lamb. Go thy ways, Child, serve God. What? a Father's an Old
man, and old men they say will take care. But a Young man!
Girl, ah! a Young man! There's a great deal in a Young man,
and thou shalt have a Young man. What? I have bin thy Nurse
these Sixteen years, and I should know what's good for thee surely.
Oh! ay ... a Young man!
Lavin.
Now prithee leave me to my self a while.
[Ex. Nurse.
'Tis hardly yet within two hours of Day.
Sad Nights seem long.... I'll down into the Garden.
The Queen of Night
Shines fair with all her Virgin-stars about her.
Not one amongst 'em all a Friend to me:
Yet by their Light a while I'll guide my steps,
And think what course my wretched state must take.
Oh Marius!
[Ex. Lavinia.
17
A walled Garden belonging to Metellus house.
Enter Marius junior.
Mar. jun.
How vainly have I spent this idle Night!
Ev'n Wine can't heal the ragings of my Love.
This sure should be the Mansion of Lavinia;
For in such Groves the Deities first dwelt.
Can I go forward when my Heart is here?
Turn back, dull Earth, and find thy Center out...
[Enters the Garden.
Enter Granius and Sulpitius.
Gran.
This way ... he went... Why, Marius! Brother Marius!
Sulp.
Perhaps he's wise, and gravely gone to bed.
There's not so weak a Drunkard as a Lover;
One Bottle to his Lady's health quite addles him.
Gran.
He ran this way, and leapt this Orchard-Wall.
Call, good Sulpitius.
Sulpit.
Nay, I'll conjure too.
Why, Marius! Humours! Passion! mad-man Lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a Sigh.
Speak but one word, and I am satisfy'd.
He hears not, neither stirs he yet. Nay then
I conjure thee by bright Lavinia's Eyes,
By her high Forehead, and her scarlet Lip,
By her fine Foot, straight Leg, and quivering Thigh,
And the Demeans that there adjacent ly,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.
Gran.
Hold, good Sulpitius, this will anger him....
Sulp.
This cannot anger him. 'Twould anger him
To raise a Spirit in his Lady's Arms,
Till she had laid and charm'd it down agen.
Gran.
Let's go: h' has hid himself among these Trees,
To dy his melancholick Mind in Night.
Blind is his Love, and best befits the Dark.
Sulpit.
Pox o' this Love, this little Scarcrow Love,
That frights Fools with his painted Bow of Lath
Out of their feeble sense.
Gran.
Stop there ... let's leave the Subject and its Slave;
Or burn Metellus House about his ears.
18
This morning Sylla means to enter Rome:
Your Father too demands the Consulship.
Yet now when he shou'd think of cutting Throats,
Your Brother's lost; lost in a maze of Love,
The idle Truantry of Callow Boys.
I'd rather trust my Fortunes with a Daw,
That hops at every Butterfly he sees,
Then have to doe in honour with a man
That sells his Vertue for a Woman's Smiles....
[Exeunt.
Enter Marius junior in the Garden.
Mar. jun.
He laughs at Wounds that never felt their smart.
What Light is that which breaks through yonder Shade?
Lavinia in the Balcony.
Oh! 'tis my Love.
She seems to hang upon the cheek of Night,
Fairer then Snow upon the Raven's back,
Or a rich Jewel in an Æthiop's ear.
Were she in yonder Sphear, she'd shine so bright,
That Birds would sing and think the Day were breaking.
Lavin.
Ah me!
Mar. jun.
She speaks.
Oh! speak agen, bright Angel: for thou art
As glorious to this Night, as Sun at Noon
To the admiring eyes of gazing Mortals,
When he bestrides the lazy puffing Clouds,
And sails upon the bosom of the Air.
Lavin.
O Marius, Marius! wherefore art thou Marius?
Deny thy Family, renounce thy Name:
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my Love,
And I'll no longer call Metellus Parent.
Mar. jun.
Shall I hear this, and yet keep silence?
Lavin.
No.
'Tis but thy Name that is my Enemy.
Thou would'st be still thy self, though not a Marius,
Belov'd of me, and charming as thou art.
What's in a Name? that which we call a Rose,
By any other name wou'd smell as sweet.
So Marius, were he not Marius call'd,
Be still as dear to my desiring Eyes,
Without that Title. Marius, lose thy Name,
And for that Name, which is no part of Thee,
Take all Lavinia.
Mar. jun.
At thy word I take thee.
Call me but Thine, and Joys will so transport me,
I shall forget my self, and quite be chang'd.
19
Who art Thou, that thus hid and veil'd in Night
Hast overheard my Follies?
Mar. jun.
By a Name
I know not how to tell thee who I am.
My Name, dear Creature,'s hatefull to my self,
Because it is an Enemy to Thee.
Lavin.
Marius? how cam'st thou hither? tell, and why?
The Orchard-walls are high, and hard to climb,
And the place Death, consid'ring who thou art,
If any of our Family here find thee.
By whose Directions didst thou find this place?
Mar. jun.
By Love, that first did prompt me to enquire.
He lent me Counsell, and I lent him Eyes.
I am no Pilot; yet wert thou as far
As the vast Shoar washt by the farthest Sea,
I'd hazard Ruine for a Prize so dear.—
Lavin.
Oh Marius! vain are all such Hopes and Wishes.
The hand of Heav'n has thrown a Bar between us,
Our Houses Hatred and the Fate of Rome,
Where none but Sylla must be happy now.
All bring him Sacrifices of some sort,
And I must be a Victim to his Bed.
To night my Father broke the dreadfull news;
And when I urg'd him for the Right of Love,
He threaten'd me to banish me his House,
Naked and shiftless to the World. Would'st thou,
Marius, receive a Beggar to thy Bosom?
Mar. jun.
Oh! were my Joys but fixt upon that point,
I'd then shake hands with Fortune and be friends;
Thus grasp my Happiness, embrace it thus,
And bless th'ill turn that gave thee to my Arms.
Lavin.
Thou know'st the mark of Night is on my Face,
Else should I blush for what th' hast heard me speak.
Fain would I dwell on Form; fain, fain deny
The things I've said: but farewell all such Follies.
Dost thou then love? I know thou'lt say thou dost;
And I must take thy word, though thou prove false.
Mar. jun.
By yon bright Cynthia's beams that shines above.
Lavin.
Oh! swear not by the Moon, th' inconstant Moon,
That changes Monthly, and shines but by seasons,
Lest that thy Love prove variable too.
Mar. jun.
What shall I swear by?
Lavin.
Do not swear at all.
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious Self,
Who art the God of my Idolatry,
And I'll believe thee.
20
Witness, all ye Powr's.
Lavin.
Nay, do not swear: although my Joy be great,
I'm hardly satisfy'd with this night's Contract:
It seems too rash, too unadvis'd and sudden,
Too like the Lightning, which does cease to be
E're one can say it is. Therefore this time
Good night, my Marius: may a happier hour
Bring us to crown our Wishes.
Mar. jun.
Why wilt thou leave me so unsatisfy'd?
Lavin.
What wouldst thou have?
Mar. jun.
Th' Exchange of Love for mine.
Lavin.
I gave thee mine before thou didst request it;
And yet I wish I could retrieve it back.
Mar. jun.
Why?
Lavin.
But to be frank, and give it thee agen.
My Bounty is as boundless as the Sea,
My Love as deep: the more I give to Thee,
The more I have: for both are Infinite.
I hear a Noise within. Farewell, my Marius;
Or stay a little, and I'll come agen.
Mar. jun.
Stay? sure for ever.
Lavin.
Three words, and, Marius, then good night indeed.
If that thy Love be honourably meant,
Thy purpose Marriage, send me word to morrow,
And all my Fortunes at thy feet I'll lay.
Nurse
within.
Madam!
Lavin.
I come anon. But if thou mean'st not well,
I do beseech thee,
Nurse
within.
Madam! Madam!....
Lavin.
By and by, I come.
To cease thy Suit, and leave me to my Griefs.
To morrow I will send.....
[Exit.
Mar. jun.
So thrive my Soul. Is not all this a Dream,
Too lovely, sweet and flatt'ring, to be true?
Re-enter Lavinia.
Lavin.
Hist, Marius, hist. Oh for a Falkner's voice,
To Lure this Tassell-gentle back agen.
Restraint has Fears, and may not speak aloud:
Else would I tear the Cave where Echo lies,
With repetition of my Marius.—
Mar. jun.
It is my Love that calls me back agen.
How sweetly Lovers voices sound by night!
Like softest Musick to attending ears.
Lavin.
Marius.
Mar. jun.
My dear.
Lavin.
What a clock to morrow?
Mar. jun.
At the hour of nine.
21
I will not fail: 'Tis twenty years till then.
Why did I call thee back?
Mar. jun.
Let me here stay till thou remember'st why.
Lavin.
The Morning's breaking, I wou'd have thee gone,
And yet no farther then a Wanton's Bird,
That lets it hop a little from his hand,
To pull it by its Fetters back agen.
Mar. jun.
Would I were thine.
Lavin.
Indeed and so would I.
Yet I should kill thee sure with too much cherishing.
No more... Good night.
Mar. jun.
There's such sweet Pain in parting,
That I could hang for ever on thy Arms,
And look away my life into thy Eyes.
Lavin.
To morrow will come.
Mar. jun.
So it will. Good night.
Heav'n be thy Guard, and all its Blessings wait thee...
[Ex. Lavin.
To morrow! 'tis no longer: but Desires
Are swift, and longing Love wou'd lavish time.
To morrow! oh to morrow! till that come,
The tedious Hours move heavily away,
And each long Minute seems a lazy Day.
Already Light is mounted in the Air,
Striking it self through every Element.
Our Party will by this time be abroad,
To try the Fate of Marius and Rome.
Love and Renown sure court me thus together.
Smile, smile, ye Gods, and give Success to both.
[Exit.
SCENE the Forum.
Enter Four Citizens.
3. Cit.
Well, Neighbours, now we are hear, what must we doe?
1. Cit.
Why, you must give your Vote for Caius Marius to be Consul:
and if any body speaks against you, knock 'em down.
2. Cit.
The truth on't is, there's nothing like a Civil Government,
where good Subjects may have leave to knock Brains out to maintain
Privileges.
3. Cit.
Look you .... but what's this Sylla? this Sylla? I've heard
great talk of him.... He's a damnable fighting fellow they say; but
hang him ... he's a Lord.
1. Cit.
Ay, so he is, Neighbours: and I know not why any one
should be a Lord more then another. I care not for a Lord: what good
do they doe? nothing but run in our debts, and ly with our Wives.—
22
Why, there's a Grievance now. I have three Boys at
home, no more mine then Rome's mine. They are all fair curl'd-hair
Cupids; and I am an honest black tawny Kettle-fac'd Fellow....
I'll ha' no Lords. ...
[Drum and Trumpets.
1. Cit.
Hark! hark! Drums and Trumpets! Drums and Trumpets!
They are coming. Be you sure you roar out for a Marius: and
doe as much mischief as you can.—
Enter Marius senior and his Sons, Marius born upon the Shoulders of two Roman Slaves; Sulpitius at the head of the Guards.
[Trumpets.
Sulpit.
Harken, ye men of Rome. I, I Sulpitius,
Your Tribune, and Protectour of your Freedoms,
By virtue of that Office here have call'd you,
To chuse a Consul. Mithridates King of Pontus has begun a War upon us,
Invaded our Allies, our Edicts violated,
And threatens Rome it self. Whom will you chuse
To lead you forth in this most glorious War?
Marius, or Sylla?
All Cit.
A Marius! a Marius! a Marius!
Mar. sen.
Countrymen,
And Fellow-citizens, my Brethren all,
Or, if it may be thought a dearer name,
My Sons, my Children, glory of my Age;
I come not hither arm'd to force your Suffrage,
As Sylla does to enter Rome with Pow'r,
As if he meant a Triumph o're his Country.
I have not made a Party in the Senate,
To bring you into Slavery, or load
Your Necks with the hard Yoak of Lordly pow'r.
I am no Noble, but a Free-born man,
A Citizen of Rome, as all you are,
A Lover of your Liberties and Laws,
Your Rights and Privileges. Witness here
These Wounds, which in your Service I have got,
And best plead for me.....
All Cit.
Marius! Marius! Marius! No Sylla! no Sylla! no Sylla!
Sulpit.
No more remains,
Most honourable Consul, but that straight you mount
The Seat-Tribunall.... Lictors, bring your Rods,
Axes and Fasces, and present 'em here.
Hail, Caius Marius, Consul of the War.
23
Metell.
See, Romans, there the Ruine of your Freedome,
The blazing Meteor that bodes ill to Rome.
Oppression, Tyranny, Avarice and Pride,
All center in that melancholick Brow.
If you are mad for Slavery, long to try
The weight of abs'lute Chains, once more proclaim him,
And shout so loud till Mithridates hear,
And laugh to think your Throats fit for his Sword.
Take Me, take all your Senatours, and drag
Us headlong to the Tiber .... plunge us in,
And bid adieu to Liberty for ever—
Then turn and fall before your new-made God;
Bring your Estates, your Children and your Wives,
And lay 'em at the feet of his Ambition.
This you must doe, and well it will become
Such Slaves, who sell their Charters for a Holiday.
Cit.
No Marius! no Marius!
Metell.
Quintus Pompeius, in the Senate's name,
As Consul, we command thee to demand
Justice of Marius, and proclaim him Traitour.
Q. Pomp.
Descend then, Marius, Traitour to the State
And Liberty of Rome, and hear thy Sentence.
Mar. sen.
Now, by the Gods, this Cause is worthy of me,
Worthy my Fate.
Is this the Right and Liberty of Rome,
To pull its lawfull Consul from his Seat,
Unjudg'd, and brand him with the mark of Traitour?
Draw all your Swords, all you that are my Friends.
Sulpitius, dam the Rabble, let 'em fall
Like common Dross with that well-spoken Fool,
That popular Clack: or let us sell our Fates
So dear, that Rome may sicken with our Fall.
All Cit.
No Marius! no Marius! Down with him; down with him...
Sulp.
Ha! what art Thou?
Y. Pomp.
The Consul's Son.
Sulp.
A Worm;
A thin Skin full of Dirt; and thus I tread thee
Into thy mother Earth.....
[Kills him.
Mar. sen.
Drag hence that Traitour,
And bring me straight his Head upon thy Dart.
The Fate of Rome's begun.
Q. Pomp.
Our Children murther'd,
24
That love Pompeius, and revenge his Loss.
Sulpit.
Fall on.
All Cit.
No Marius! no Marius! Liberty! Liberty! &c.
They fight. Marius conquers....
Mar. sen.
Thanks for this good beginning, Gods. These Slaves,
These wide-mouth'd Brutes that bellow thus for Freedome,
Oh! how they ran before the hand of Pow'r,
Flying for shelter into every Brake!
Like cow'rdly fearful Sheep they break their Herd,
When the Wolf's out, and ranging for his Prey.
Sulpitius, thy Guards did noble Service.
Sulpit.
Oh! they are Fellows fit for you and I,
Fit for the work of Power: say the word,
Not one amongst 'em all but what shall run,
Take an old grumbling Senatour by th' Beard,
And shake his Head off from his shrinking Shoulders.
Mar. sen.
Sylla, I hear, is at the Gates of Rome.
Proclaim straight Liberty to every Slave
That will but own the Cause of Caius Marius.
Horrour, Confusion, and inverted Order,
Vast Desolation, Slaughter, Death and Ruine
Must have their Courses e're this Ferment settle.
“Thus the Great Jove above, who rules alone,
“When men forget his Godlike Pow'r to own,
“Uses no common means, no common ways,
“But sends forth Thunder, and the World obeys.
[Ex. omnes.
The end of the Second ACT.
| The History and Fall of Caius Marius | |