 | The History and Fall of Caius Marius |  |
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ACT IV.
SCENE the Garden.Enter Lavinia and Marius junior.
Lavin.
Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near Day.
It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,
That pierc'd the fearfull hollow of thy Ear.
Nightly on yon Pomegranate-tree she sings.
Believe me, Love, it was the Nightingale.
Mar. jun.
Oh! 'twas the Lark, the Herald of the Morn,
No Nightingale. Look, Love, what envious Streaks
Of Light embroider all the cloudy East.
Night's Candles are burnt out, and jocund Day
Upon the Mountain-tops sits gaily drest,
Whilst all the Birds bring Musick to his Levy.
I must be gone and live, or stay and dy.....
Lavin.
Oh! oh! what wretched Fortune is my lot!
Sure, giving Thee, Heav'n grew too far in Debt
To pay, till Bankrupt-like it broke; whilst I,
A poor compounding Creditor, am forc'd
To take a Mite for endless Summs of Joy.
Mar. jun.
Let me be taken, let me suffer Death,
I am content, so Thou wilt have it so....
By Heav'n, yon gray is not the Morning's Eye,
But the Reflexion of pale Cynthia's Brightness.
Nor is't the Lark we hear, whose Notes do beat
So high, and Echo in the Vault of Heav'n.
I'm all desire to stay, no will to go.
How is't, my Soul? let's talk: it is not Day.
Lavin.
Oh! it is, it is.... Fly hence away, my Marius.
It is the Lark, and out of tune she sings,
With grating Discords and unpleasing Strainings.
Some say the Lark and loathsome Toad change Eyes:
Now I could wish they had chang'd Voices too;
Or that a Lethargy had seiz'd the Morning,
And she had slopt, and never wak'd agen,
To part me from th' Embraces of my Love.
What shall become of Me, when Thou art gone?
Mar. jun.
The Gods that heard our Vows, and know our Loves,
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Will sure take care, and let no Wrongs annoy thee.
Upon my Knees I'll ask 'em every day,
How my Lavinia does: and every night,
In the severe Distresses of my Fate,
As I perhaps shall wander through the Desart,
And want a place to rest my weary Head on,
I'll count the Stars, and bless 'em as they shine,
And court 'em all for my Lavinia's Safety.
Lavin.
Oh Banishment! eternal Banishment!
Ne'r to return! must we ne'r meet agen?
My Heart will break, I cannot think that Thought
And live. Cou'd I but see to th' end of Woe,
There were some Comfort .... but eternall Torment
Is even insupportable to Thought.
It cannot be that we shall part for ever.
Mar. jun.
No, for my Banishment may be recall'd;
My Father once more hold a Pow'r in Rome:
Then shall I boldly claim Lavinia mine,
Whilst happiest men shall envy at the Blessing,
And Poets write the Wonders of our Loves.
Lavin.
If by my Father's Cruelty I'm forc'd,
When left alone, to yield to Sylla's Claim,
Defenseless as I am, and thou far from me,
If, as I must, I rather dy then suffer't,
What a sad Tale will that be when 'tis told thee?
I know not what to fear, or hope, or think,
Or say, or doe. I cannot let thee go.
Mar. jun.
A Thousand things would, to this purpose said,
But sharpen and add weight to parting Sorrow.
Oh my Lavinia! if my Heart e're stray,....
[Kneels.
Or any other Beauty ever charm me,
If I live not entirely onely thine,
In that curst moment when my Soul forsakes thee,
May I be hither brought a Captive bound,
T' adorn the Triumph of my basest Foe.
Lavin.
And if I live not faithfull to the Lord
Of my first Vows, my dearest onely Marius,
May I be brought to Poverty and Scorn,
Hooted by Slaves forth from thy gates, O Rome,
Till flying to the Woods t'avoid my Shame,
Sharp Hunger, Cold, or some worse Fate destroy me;
And not one Tree vouchsafe a Leaf to hide me.
Mar. jun.
What needs all this?—
Lavin.
Oh! I could find out things
To talk to thee for ever.
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Weep not; the time
We had to stay together has bin employ'd
In richest Love.....
Lavin.
We ought to summon all
The spirit of soft Passion up, to chear
Our Hearts thus lab'ring with the pangs of Parting.
Oh my poor Marius!
Mar. jun.
Ah my kind Lavinia!
Lavin.
But dost thou think we e're shall meet agen?
Mar. jun.
I doubt it not, and all these Woes shall serve
For sweet Discourses in our time to come.
Lavin.
Alas! I have an ill-divining Soul;
Methinks I see thee, now thou'rt from my Arms,
Like a stark Ghost with Horrour in thy Visage.
Either my Eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Mar. jun.
And trust me, Love, in my Eye so dost Thou.
Dry Sorrow drinks our Bloud.... Farewell.
Lavin.
Farewell then.
[Ex. Mar. jun.
Nurse
within.
Madam.
Lavin.
My Nurse.
Nurse
within.
Your Father's up, and Day-light broke abroad.
Be wary, look about you.....
Lavin.
Hah! is he gone? My Lord, my husband, Friend,
I must hear from thee every day i'th' hour:
For absent Minutes seem as many Days.
Oh! by this reck'ning I shall be most old,
E're I agen behold my Marius. Nay,
Gone too already? 'twas unkindly done,
I had not yet imparted half my Soul,
Not a third part of its fond jealous Fears.
But I'll pursue him for't, and be reveng'd;
Hang such a tender Tale about his Heart,
Shall make it tingle as his Life were stung.
Nay too.... I'll love him; never, never leave him;
Fond as a Child, and resolute as Man.
Ex. Lavin.
Enter Metellus musing.
Metell.
Sylla this morning parts from hence to Capua,
To head that Army. Cinna must be Consul:....
Ay, Cinna must be. He's a busy fellow,
Knows how to tell a story to the Rabble,
Hates Marius too: that, that's the dearest point.
I hope the Snares for Marius laid may take him.
A hundred horse are in pursuit to find him:
And if they catch him, his Head's safe, that's certain.
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An honest, simple, downright-dealing Lord:
A little too Religious, that's his fault.
Enter a Servant.
What now?
Servant.
A Letter left you by a Lictor,
Who told us that it came from the Lord Sylla.
Metellus
reads the Letter.
Blame not, Sir, my parting
So suddenly: just now I've had advice
Of some Disturbance in the Camp at Capua.
Commend my tender'st Faith to fair Lavinia.
You're Sylla's Advocate with her and Rome.
Enter Nurse.
Well, Nurse.
Nurse.
My Lord.
Metell.
How does my Daughter?
Nurse.
Truly very ill:
She has not slept a wink:
Nothing but toss'd and tumbled all this night;
I left her just now slumbering.
This Lord Sylla does so run in her Head.
Metell.
Oh! were he in her Heart, Nurse!
Nurse.
Were he?
Why, she thinks of nothing else, talks of nothing else, dreams of nothing
else. She would needs have me ly with her th' other night.
But about midnight (I'll swear it wak'd me out of a sweet Nap)
she takes me fast in her Arms, and cries, Oh my Lord Sylla! but
are you, will you be true? then sigh'd, and so stretcht....I swear
I was half afraid.
Metell.
She's strangely alter'd then.
This Morning two new Consuls must be chosen.
If they are true, those tidings thou hast brought me,
Wait while she wakes, and tell her 'tis my pleasure,
At my return from th' Forum that I see her....
[Ex. Metell.
Nurse.
So, so;—here will be sweet doings in time. How many
hundred lies a day must I tell, to keep this Family at peace?
Enter Lavinia.
Lavin.
Oh Nurse! where art thou? is my Father gone?
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Gone? yes; and would I were gone too.
Lavin.
Why dost thou sigh? what cause hast thou to wish so?
Wert thou distrest, unfortunate as I am,
Thou hadst then cause.
What shall I doe? Oh, how alone am I!
I walk methinks as half of me were lost;
Yet, like a maim'd Bird, flutter, flutter on,
And fain wou'd find a Hole to hide my head in.
Nurse.
'Odds my Boddikins! but why thus drest, Madam? why
in this pickle, say you now?
Lavin.
Seem not to wonder, nor dare to oppose me,
For I am desperate, and resolv'd to Death.
In this unhappy, wayward, humble Dress,
After my Love a Pilgrimage I'll take,
Forsake deserted Rome, and find my Marius.
Nurse.
And I must stay behind to be hang'd up, like an old Polecat
in a Warren, for a warning to all Vermine that shall come
after me. Would I were fairly dead for a week, till this were
over.
Lavin.
This Morning's opportunity is fair,
When all are busy in electing Consuls;
I shall escape unseen without the Gates,
And this night in a Litter reach Salonium.
Nurse.
I care not; I'll have nothing to doe in't: you sha'nt stir.
Nay, I'll raise the House first. Why Clodius! Catulus! Sempronia!
Thesbia! Men and Maids, where are you? Oh! oh! oh!...
Lav. gets from her. Nurse falls down. [Ex. Lavin.
Enter Clodius.
Clod.
What's the matter, Mistriss?
Nurse.
Oh Clody, Clody, dear Clody! is't thee, my dear Clody? help
me, help me up. Run to my Lord to the Forum presently: tell him
his Treasury is robb'd, his House a-fire, his Daughter dead, and I
mad. Run, run. You'll not run. Oh! oh!
[Exeunt.
SCENE changes to the Country.
Enter severall Herdsmen belonging to Marius.
1. Herds.
Good morrow, Brother, you have heard the News.
2. Herds.
News, quoth a? trim News truly.
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Why, they say our Lord and Master's stept a one sides
there any thing in't trow?
2. Herds.
Any thing in't? alas aday! alas aday! sad times! sad
times, Brother! not a penny of money stirring.
1. Herds.
Nay, I thought there was no good Weather towards,
when my bald-fac'd Heifer stuck up her Tail Eastward, and ran
back into a new Quick-set, which I had just made to keep the Swine
from the Beans.
2. Herds.
And t'other night, as I was at Supper, in the Chimny-corner,
a whole Family of Swallows, that had occupy'd the Tenement
these seven years, fell down, Nest and all, into the Porridge-pot,
and spoil'd the Broath. Sad times! sad times, Brother!
3. Herds.
Did you meet no Troupers this way?
2. Herds.
Troupers? I saw a parcel of Raggooners, I think they
call 'em, trotting along yon Wood-side upon ragged Hide-bound
Jades. I warrant they came for no goodness.....
1. Herds.
'Twas to seek for Lord Marius, as sure as Eggs be Eggs.
These-Bitious folk make more stir in the world then a thousand men.
Would my Kine were all in their Stalls.
Enter severall Souldiers in quest of Marius.
1. Sould.
This is the way. How now, you pack of Boobies? whose
Fools are you?
2. Herds.
Why, we are such Fools as you are; any bodie's Fools
that will pay us our Wages.
2. Sould.
Do you belong to the Traitour Marius?
1. Herds.
We belong to Caius Marius, an't like your Worship.
1. Sould.
Why, this is a civil Fellow. But you, Rogue, you are
witty and be hang'd, are you?
2. Herds.
I's poor enough to be witty, as you'r poor enough to
be valiant. Had I but Money enough, I'd no more be a Wit then
you'd be a Souldier.
2. Sould.
Let the hungry Churl alone.
1. Sould.
Hark you, you Dog; where's your Lord, the Traitour
Marius?
2. Herds.
In a whole Skin, if he be wise.....
2. Sould.
Where is he, you Pultroon?
2. Herds.
Look you, I keep his Cows and his Oxen here at Salonium,
but I keep none of him. If you must needs know where
he is, then I must needs tell you I don't know.
1. Sould.
Let's to his house hard by, and ransack that. Sirrah,
If we miss of him, you may repent this.
[Ex. Souldiers.
1. Herds.
'Tis all one to me, I must pay my Rent to some body.
2. Herds.
Why, this 'tis now to be a Great man. Heav'n keep me
a Cow-keeper still.... I say....
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Mar. sen.
Where are we? are we yet not near Salonium?
Lead me to yonder shady Poplar, where
The poor old Marius a while may sit,
And joy in Rest. Oh my distemper'd Head!
The Sun has beat his Beams so hard upon me,
That my Brain's hot as molten Gold. My Skull!
Oh my tormented Skull! Oh Rome! Rome! Rome!
Hah! what are those?
Gran.
They seem, Sir, Rural Swains,
Who tend the Herds that graze beneath these Woods.
Mar. sen.
Who are you? to what Lord do ye belong?
2. Herds.
We did belong to Caius Marius once: but they say he's
gone a Journey: and now we belong to one another.
Mar. sen.
Have ye forgot me then? ungratefull Slaves!
Are you so willing to disown your Master?
Who would have thought t' have found such Baseness here,
Where Innocence seems seated by the Gods,
As in her Virgin-nakedness untainted?
Confusion on ye, ye sordid Earthlings.
[Ex. all but one.
1. Herds.
Oh fly, my Lord, your Foes are thick abroad:
Just now a Troup of Murtherers past this way,
And ask'd with horrour for the Traitour Marius.
By this time at Salonium, at your House,
They are in search of you. Fly, fly, my Lord....
[Exit.
Mar. sen.
I shall be hounded up and down the World,
Now every Villain, that is Wretch enough
To take the price of Bloud, dreams of my Throat.
Help and support me till I reach the Wood,
Then go and find thy wretched Brother out.
Asunder we may dodge our Fate, and lose her.
In some old hollow Tree or o'regrown Brake
I'd rest my weary Lims, till Danger pass me.
[Goes into the Wood.
Enter Souldiers again.
1. Sould.
A thousand Crowns? 'tis a Reward might buy
As many Lives, for they are cheap in Rome;
And 'tis too much for one.
2. Sould.
Let's set this Wood
A flaming, if you think he's here, and then
Quickly you'll see th'old Droan crawl humming out.
1. Sould.
Thou always lov'st to ride full speed to Mischief. There's
no consideration in thee. Look you, when I cut a Throat, I love
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Beard. I hate a slovenly Murther done hand over head: a man
gets no credit by it.
3. Sould.
The man that spoke last spoke well. Therefore let us
to yon adjacent Village, and sowce our selves in good Falernum....
[Ex. Souldiers.
Mar. sen.
O Villains! not a Slave of those
But has serv'd under me, has eat my Bread,
And felt my Bounty.... Drought! parching Drought!
Was ever Lion thus by Dogs emboss'd?
Oh! I could swallow Rivers: Earth yield me Water;
Or swallow Marius down where Springs first flow.
Enter Marius junior and Granius.
Mar. jun.
My Father!
Mar. sen.
Oh my Sons!
Mar. jun.
Why thus forlorn? stretcht on the Earth?
Mar. sen.
Oh! get me some Refreshment, cooling Herbs,
And Water to allay my ravenous Thirst.
I would not trouble you if I had Strength:
But I'm so faint that all my Lims are useless.
Now have I not one Drachma to buy Food,
Must we then starve? no, sure the Birds will feed us.
Mar. jun.
There stands a House on yonder side o'th' Wood,
It seems the Mansion of some Man of note:
I'll go and turn a Beggar for my Father.
Mar. sen.
Oh my Soul's comfort! do. Indeed I want it.
I, who had once the plenty of the Earth,
Now want a Root and Water. Go, my Boy,
And see who'll give a Morsell to poor Marius.
Nay, I'll not starve: no, I will plunge in Riot,
Wallow in Plenty. Drink? I'll drink, I'll drink.
Give me that Goblet hither.... Here's a Health
To all the Knaves and Senators in Rome.
Mar jun.
Repose your self a while, till we return.
Mar. sen.
I will, but prithee let me rave a little.
Go, prithee go, and don't delay. I'll rest;
[Ex. Mar. jun.
As thou shalt, Rome, if e're my Fortune raise me.....
Enter Lavinia.
Another Murth'rer? this brings smiling Fate:
A deadly Snake cloath'd in a dainty Skin.
Lavin.
I've wander'd up and down these Woods and Meadows,
Till I have lost my way.....
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Leaning, I found Lavinia in the Bark.
My Marius should not be far hence.
Mar. sen.
What art Thou,
That dar'st to name that wretched Creature Marius?
Lavin.
Do not be angry, Sir, what e're thou art;
I am a poor unhappy Woman, driven
By Fortune to pursue my banish'd Lord.
Mar. sen.
By thy dissembling Tone thou shouldst be Woman,
And Roman too.
Lavin.
Indeed I am.
Mar. sen.
A Roman?
If thou art so, be gone, lest Rage with Strength
Assist my Vengeance, and I rise and kill thee.
Lavin.
My Father, is it you?
Mar. sen.
Now thou art Woman;
For Lies are in thee. I? am I thy Father?
I ne'r was yet so curst; none of thy Sex
E're sprung from me. My Offspring all are Males,
The Nobler sort of Beasts entit'led Men.
Lavin.
I am your Daughter, if your Son's my Lord.
Have you ne'r heard Lavinia's name in Rome,
That wedded with the Son of Marius?
Mar. sen.
Hah!
Art thou that fond, that kind and doting thing,
That left her Father for a banisht Husband?
Come near—
And let me bless thee, though thy Name's my Foe.
Lavin.
Alas! my Father, you seem much opprest:
Your Lips are parcht, bloud-shot your Eyes and sunk.
Will you partake such Fruits as I have gather'd?
Taste, Sir, this Peach, and this Pomegranate; both are
Ripe and refreshing.
Mar. sen.
What? all this from Thee,
Thou Angel, whom the Gods have sent to aid me?
I don't deserve thy Bounty.
Lavin.
Here, Sir,'s more.
I found a Crystall Spring too in the Wood,
And took some Water; 'tis most soft and cool.
Mar. sen.
An Emperour's Feast! but I shall rob thee.
Lavin.
No, I've eat, and slak'd my Thirst. But where's my Lord,
My dearest Marius?
Mar. sen.
To th' neighbouring Village
He's gone, to beg his Father's Dinner, Daughter.
Lavin.
Will you then call me Daughter? will you own it?
I'm much o'repaid for all the Wrongs of Fortune.
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I've Gold and Jewels too, and they'l buy Food.
Enter Marius junior.
Mar. sen.
See here, my Marius, what the Gods have sent us.
See thy Lavinia.
Mar. jun.
Hah!
[They run and embrace.
Mar. sen.
What? dumb at meeting?
Mar. jun.
Why weeps my Love?
Lavin.
I cannot speak, Tears so obstruct my Words,
And choak me with unutterable Joy.
Mar. jun.
Oh my Heart's Joy!
Lavin.
My Soul!
Mar. jun.
But hast thou left
Thy Father's House, the Pomp and State of Rome,
To follow desart Misery?
Lavin.
I come
To bear a part in every thing that's thine,
Be 't Happiness or Sorrow. In these Woods,
Whilst from pursuing Enemies you're safe,
I'll range about, and find the Fruits and Springs,
Gather cool Sedges, Daffadills and Lillies,
And softest Camomill to make us Beds,
Whereon my Love and I at night will sleep,
And dream of better Fortune.
Enter Granius and Servant with Wine and Meat.
Mar. sen.
Yet more Plenty?
Sure Comus, the God of Feasting, haunts these Woods,
And means to entertain us as his Guests.
Servant.
I am sent hither, Marius, from my Lord,
Sextilius the Prætor, to relieve thee,
And warn thee that thou straight depart this place,
Else he the Senate's Edict must obey,
And treat thee as the Foe of Rome.
Mar. sen.
But did he,
Did he, Sextilius, bid thee say all this?
Was he too proud to come and see his Master,
That rais'd him out of nothing? Was he not
My menial Servant once, and wip'd these Shoes,
Ran by my Chariot-wheels, my Pleasures watcht,
And fed upon the Voidings of my Table?
Durst he affront me with a sordid Alms?
And send a saucy Message by a Slave?
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Be gone whilst thou art safe. Hold, stay a little.
Serv.
What Answer would you have me carry back?
Mar. sen.
Go to Sextilius, tell him thou hast seen
Poor Caius Marius banish'd from his Country,
Sitting in Sorrow on the naked Earth,
Amidst an ample Fortune once his own,
Where now he cannot claim a Turf to sleep on.
[Ex. Servant.
How am I fallen! Musick? sure, the Gods
[Soft Musick.
Are mad, or have design'd to make me so.
Enter Martha.
Well, what art Thou?
Marth.
Am I a Stranger to thee?
Martha's my name, the Syrian Prophetess,
That us'd to wait upon thee with good Fortune;
Till banish'd out of Rome for serving Thee.
I've ever since inhabited these Woods,
And search'd the deepest Arts of wise Foreknowledge.
Mar. sen.
I know thee now most well. When thou wert gone,
All my good Fortune left me. My lov'd Vulturs,
That us'd to hover o're my happy Head,
And promise Honour in the day of Battel,
Have since bin seen no more. Ev'n Birds of prey
Forsake unhappy Marius: Men of prey
Pursue him still. Hast thou no Hopes in store?
Marth.
A hundred Spirits wait upon my will,
To bring me Tidings, from th' Earth's farthest Corners,
Of all that happens out in States and Councils.
I tell thee therefore, Rome is once more thine.
The Consuls have had Blows, and Cinna's beaten,
Who with his Army comes to find thee out,
To lead him back with Terrour to that City.
Mar. sen.
Speak on.
Marth.
Nay, e're thou think'st it he will be with thee.
But let thy Sons and these fair Nymphs retire,
Whilst I relieve thy wearied Eyes with Sleep,
And chear thee in a Dream with promis'd Fate.
Mar. jun.
Come, my Lavinia, Granius, wee'll withdraw
To some cool Shade, and wonder at our Fortune.
[Ex.
Martha waves her Wand....
[A Dance.
Mar. sen.
O Rest, thou Stranger to my Senses, welcome.
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Serv.
Ten Attick Talents shall be thy Reward,
Sextilius gives 'em thee. Dispatch him safely.
Ruff.
Fear not, he never wakes agen.
Mar. sen.
No more,
I'll hear no more. Metellus live? no, no;
He dies, he dies. So bear him to the Tiber,
And plunge him to the bottom. Hah Antonius!
Where are my Guards? dispatch that talking Knave,
That when he should be doing publick Service,
Consumes his time in Speeches to the Rabble,
And sows Sedition in a City. Down,
Down with Pompeius too, that call'd me Traitour.
Hah! art thou there? welcome once more, old Marius,
To Rome's Tribunall.
Ruff.
Now's the time.
Mar. sen.
Stand off.
Secure that Gaul.... Dar'st thou kill Caius Marius?
[Wakes.
Hah! speak? what art thou?
Ruff.
By Sextilius hired
I hither came to take your Life. Spare mine,
And I'll for ever serve you at your feet.
Mar. sen.
What barb'rous Slaves are these, that envy me
The open Air; set Prices on my Head,
As they would doe on Wolves that slay their Flock!
Enter Sulpitius.
[Trumpets.
Trumpets! Sulpitius, where hast thou bin wand'ring
Since the late Storm that drove us from each other?
Sulpit.
Why, doing Mischief up and down the City,
Picking up discontented Fools, belying
The Senatours and Government, destroying
Faith amongst honest men, and praising Knaves.
Mar. sen.
Oh, but where's Cinna?
Sulpit.
Ready to salute you.....
Enter Cinna attended with Lictors and Guards.
Cinn.
Romans, once more behold your Consul; see,
Is that a Fortune fit for Caius Marius?
Advance your Axes and your Rods before him,
And give him all the Customs of his Honour.
Mar. sen.
Away: such Pomp becomes not wretched Marius.
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Lead me, great Cinna, where thy Foes have wrong'd thee,
And see how thy old Souldier will obey.
Cinn.
O Marius, be our Hearts united ever,
To carry Desolation into Rome,
And waste that Den of Monsters to the Earth.
Mar. sen.
Shall we?
Cinn.
We'll do't. That godly Soothsaying Fool,
That sacrificing Dolt, that Sot Octavius,
When we were chosen Consuls in the Forum,
Disown'd me for his Collegue; said, the Gods
Had told him I design'd Tyrannick pow'r;
Provok'd the Citizens, who took up Arms,
And drove me forth the Gates.
Mar. sen.
Excellent Mischief!
What's to be done?
Cinn.
No sooner was I gone,
But a large part of that great City follow'd me.
There's not an honest Spirit left in Rome,
That does not own my Cause, and wish for Marius.
Mar. sen.
Bring me my Horse, my Armour, and the Laurel
With which, when I'd o'recome three barb'rous Nations,
I enter'd crown'd with Triumph into Rome.
I go to free her now from greater Mischiefs.
Enter Marius junior and Granius.
O my young Warriour!
Mar. jun.
Curst be the Light,
And ever curst be all these Regions round us.
Lavinia's lost, born back with force to Rome,
By Ruffians headed by her Father's Kinsmen;
And like a Coward too I live, yet saw it.
[Exit.
Mar. sen.
Oh Marius! Marius! let not 'Plaints come from thee,
Nor cloud the Joy that's breaking on thy Father.
If she be back in Rome, Lavinia's thine.
To morrow's Dawn restores her to thy Arms.
For that fair Mistriss Fortune, which has cost
So dear, for which such Hardships I have past,
Is coy no more, but crowns my Hopes at last.
I long t' embrace her, any, 'tis Death to stay.
I'm mad as promis'd Bridegrooms, born away
With thoughts of nothing but the joyfull day.
[Exeunt.
51
Enter Metellus, Lavinia, Priest of Hymen.
Lavin.
Nay, you have catcht me; you may kill me too:
But with my Cries I'll rend the Echoing Heav'ns,
Till all the Gods are Witness how you use me.
Metell.
What? like a Vagrant fly thy Father's House?
And follow fulsomely an exil'd Slave,
Disdain'd by all the World? But abject Thou,
Resolve to go, or bound be sent to Sylla,
With as much Scorn as thou hast done me Shame.
Lavin.
Do, bind me, kill me, rack these Lims: I'll bear it.
But, Sir, consider still I am your Daughter;
And one hour's Converse with this Holy man
May teach me to repent, and shew Obedience.
Metell.
Think not t' evade me by protracting time:
For if thou dost not, may the Gods forsake me,
As I will Thee, if thou escape my Fury....
[Ex. Metell.
Lavin.
Oh! bid me leap (rather then go to Sylla)
From off the Battlements of any Tow'r,
Or walk in Thievish ways, or bid me lurk
Where Serpents are: chain me with roaring Bears;
Or hide me nightly in a Charnell-house
O're-cover'd quite with Dead mens rattling Bones,
With reeky Shanks, and yellow chapless Sculls:
Or bid me go into a new-made Grave,
And hide me with a Dead man in his Shrowd:
Things that to hear but told have made me tremble:
And I'll go through it without fear or doubting,
To keep my Vows unspotted to my Love.—
Priest.
Take here this Vial then, and in this moment
Drink it, when straight through all thy Veins shall run
A cold and drowzy Humour more then Sleep:
And in Death's borrow'd likeness shalt thou lie
Two Summer-days, then wake as from a Slumber.
Till Marius by my Letters know what's past,
And come by stealth to Rome.—
Lavin.
Give me; Oh! give me: tell me not of Fears.
Priest.
Farewell: be bold and prosp'rous.
[Exit.
Lavin.
Oh! farewell.....
Heav'n knows if ever we shall meet agen.
I have a faint cold Fear thrills through my Veins.
52
I'll call him back agen to comfort me.
Stay, Holy man. But what should he doe here?
My dismall Scene 'tis fit I act alone.
What if this Mixture do not work at all?
Shall I to morrow then be sent to Sylla?
No, no .... this shall forbid it; ly thou there.....
Lays down the Dagger.
Or how, if, when I'm laid into the Tomb,
I wake before the time that Marius come
To my Relief? There, there's a fearfull Point.
Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault,
Where for these many hundred years the Bones
Of all my bury'd Ancestours are packt?
Where, as they say, Ghosts at some hours resort,
With Mandrakes shreeks torn from the Earth's dark Womb,
That living Mortals hearing them run mad?
Or if I wake, shall I not be distracted,
Inviron'd round with all these hideous Fears,
And madly play with my Fore-fathers Joints;
Then in this Rage with some great Kinsman's Bones,
As with a Club, dash out my desp'rate Brains?
What? Sylla? get thee gone, thou meager Lover:
My Sense abhors thee. Don't disturb my Draught;
'Tis to my Lord. [Drinks.]
Oh Marius! Marius! Marius!
[Exit.
The end of the Fourth ACT.
| The History and Fall of Caius Marius | |