University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE Blacius his House.
Enter Blacius and Izadora.
Bla.
Pacuvius' Son! Detested Thought! is he—
(The only Wretch I've warn'd thee to avoid)
Is he the Choice of thy abandon'd Love?
How cou'd thy vile degenerate Heart,
At horrid Mention of Perolla's Flame,
Forbear to call up all thy vital Warmth
Into thy fierce disdainful Eyes,
And look him dead with a victorious Scorn?
O that I live to think my only Child
In Thought but mingles with Pacuvius' Blood!

Iza.
[Kneeling]
O my offended Father!
By all my past Obedience, by my Mother's Truth,
And by th'Endearments of paternal Love,
I do conjure you give my Crimes a hearing,
And if in all my Conduct to Perolla,
My Actions or my Thoughts stand blameable;
Nay, if the Conflicts of my struggling Heart
'Gainst his compulsive Virtues, that engag'd it,
Merit not at worst your Pity of my Fortune,
Then shut me forth an Exile from your Care,
To wander branded with a Parent's Curse
Of unforgiven Disobedience.

Bla.
I take thee at thy Word: And let me warn thee well,
[Raising her.
Before I lend my Patience to thy Cause,
That thou abuse it not with weak Defences,
Lest my Resentment shou'd with double Right
Be just to thy Undoing.

Iza.
So may I justly meet it, or avoid,
As my Defence shall Censure or Acquit me.

Bla.
Then tell me, say, How cam'st thou first to set
Thy watchless Eyes upon this fatal Wretch,
When I thou know'st with such revolving Care
Still bred thy Youth in Courts from him remote,
To keep it (if 'twere possible) beyond
The working Power of Fate to join you ever?

Iza.
Lend yet your Patience, and the Fact will prove
Not Izadora, but her Fate to blame.

Bla.
Proceed, while yet my Temper holds to hear thee.

Iza.
When Conqu'ring Hannibal's Vindictive Arms
In Cannæ's fatal Field had late prevail'd
A few press'd Romans, who escap'd his Sword,
Retreated to the Town (where you t'avoid
Perolla's sight had plac'd me with my Unkle Magius.
It chanc'd a Party of Numidian Horse
Pursued these flying Romans to the Gates,
Which in Victorious Pride they entring said,
They wanted not to seize, but kindly came,
They vaunting cry'd, to mend the Roman Breed
On their young Wives and Daughters: On the Word,
Strait to the Temple (where our Fears had shut us
T'implore the Gods) the cruel Victors came,
And from our Orisons with Brutal Force
The Wives and Virgins dragg'd relentless forth,
Whose piteous Cries and Shrieks so pierc'd the Hearts
Ev'n of the lost and conquer'd Romans there,
That Rage Despair and Horror at the sight,
Gave 'em a new and treble Courage to protect us,
When strait they Fierce as darted Lightning flew
With swift Destruction on the Ravishers:
And in the Front of our Deliverers,
A Youth with straining Fury in his Eyes
Seizing the Wretch, whose impious Hand was bound
Fast in my Folded Hair, at one bold Stroke
Unlock'd his horrid Hold,
And laid him Gasping at my Feet:
At length this Brave Example and the Cause
Prevail'd; Half the Numidians slain,
The rest in Fear retreated to their Camp:
So Great, so Generous an Action—

Bla.
Hold!
Your Praises may be spar'd, the Action speaks
It self; and to be just, I will suppose Perolla
Unknowing who you were was your Preserver.

Iza.
It was indeed Perolla! Yet my Heart
Not more was pleas'd with Life so greatly sav'd,
Than griev'd to find the Obligation due
Where your Commands had told me I must Hate.

Bla.
Thus far thou art my Daughter still: But say
What at Petilia past: For there I find
Thy Childish Heart was flatter'd to thy Ruine.

Iza.
Know then, that there he was a second time
His Country's brave Deliverer, and mine:
From our Escape at Cannæ, to Petilia next
His Arms conducted us, where scarce arriv'd
But Hannibal's pursuing Force besieg'd us:
At which the fearful Magistrates allarm'd,
Conclude on Shameful Terms to yield the Town;
But He Perolla firm opposing them,
They secret Plot without him to surrender,
And knowing too me yet neglectful of his Love,
Propos'd upon my Woman's Fears, that I
Shou'd by my Person promis'd to his Vows
Engage his Vote to yield in their Design;
Or if I'd then Betray him to their Hands,
They'd full Revenge me on his painful Passion,
And send him Captive with their Terms to Hannibal.

Bla.
Most impious Traytors! But I hope you yielded not
To such Proposals, tho' my Mortal Foe,
I wou'd not Hurt him with my Country's Ruine.

Iza.
O far from such a Thought! I held in just
Abhorrence their Disloyal Fears, and to
Perolla strait their Vile Proposals told,
While He upon the instant fir'd to see me place
So kind, unhop'd a Confidence in him,
Secures in Chains the false Conspirators,
And from th'Example of his glowing Virtue
So warms the Soldiers to exert their Arms,
That (on a Council held) they sally forth,
And in one Glorious Action raise the Siege.

Bla.
And He on this slight Victory presuming,
Tells his Big Tale, pleases your Female Pride,
And, 'cause he sav'd Petilia, you were taken.

Iza.
Yet hear my Fortune,
And in your utmost Prejudice you'll own
I yielded not till storm'd
By farther Obligations to surrender.
For at his glad return from that Victorious Salley,
The Wives, the Matrons by his Sword preserv'd;
The grateful Virgins too,
More tender of his long neglected Love,
In his behalf came kneeling to my Feet,
And in such soft Persuasions urg'd his Passion,
Sung with such moving Notes his Godlike Vertue,
With their Necessity of now Rewarding it,
So gently too reproach'd my Heart's Delay,
That I too conscious of my own Demerits,
Striving in vain to hide my speaking Blushes,
In Tears fell prostrate to the Earth, and beg 'em,
That they'd reproach no more my Virgin Fears;
But if they thought this Trifle of my Person
Were a Reward for any one that had
Deserv'd my Country's Favour, to dispose it
As they shou'd please—
At this they caught me in their Friendly Arms,
And press'd me with a Thousand thankful Kisses,
While some Transported to Perolla flew,
Whose doubtful Heart cou'd scarce believe their Joy:
But when for proof approach'd in sight of me,
Seeing my Tears, my Trembling, and my Blushes,
He rush'd like frighted Life to its Protection,
Flew to my Yielded Hand, and Fainted at my Feet:
Thus, Sir, you see 'tis to the Cause of Rome,
And not Perolla's Charms, that I have given my Heart.
Nay he Perolla too at my Request,
Now from Petilia having sent me first
To render both our Duties to a Father.
[Gives a Letter.
In just Obedience waves all Nuptial Hopes,
Till your kind Sanction shall confirm him Happy.

Bla.
My Daughter! O my Dearest Izadora!
Well hast thou wrought thy Tale to melt my Temper,
Nor can I call thy fatal Love thy Fault,
But thy Misfortune Now—
Find but another Name for lost Perolla,
And he were yet, in spite of Prejudice,
The First of Men I'd offer to thy Wishes:
But as he is the false Pacuvius Son,
The hateful curst Pacuvius, who before
His Treacherous Revolt to Hannibal
Was still thy Father's Mortal Foe: As such
I must detest him, cou'd he prove his Blood from Jove:
Has not for Nine Descents our House implacable
Held out to his a fix'd Hereditary Hate?
And shall we now, by so abhorr'd a Union,
Basely distain our Great Fore-fathers Honour?
Shall that expended Blood, which never yet
Has mix'd with theirs, but on the reeking Earth,
Flowing from mutual Wounds of unappeas'd Revenge,
At last now ebb to the tame Quality
Of a Supine and Listless Love?
Dishonour! Death! and Tortures!—
—And yet my Izadora is undone!
By Obligations bound, that Conscious Honour,
(And O I fear more punctual Love!)
Can never see unpaid! What will the Gods do with me?

Iza.
My dearest Father, on my Knees I beg,
Let not your Fears for me divide your Breast
With this Perplexity of Thought: For tho'
My Soul can witness, that I'll sooner dye,
Than wrong the Friendship that I owe Perolla,
Yet rather than forego my Duty,
I wou'd resist my greatest Happiness.

Bla.
Preserve that Thought, as thy first Hopes of Peace,
Or losing it expect Resistless Ruine.

Enter a Servant.
Ser.
My Lord, a Gentleman call'd Decius, and
In haste intreats to be admitted.

Bla.
Conduct him—
We must defer this Cause, my Izadora,
Something Superior now demands my Thought,
If thou canst quit Perolla, I am happy;
If not, when I can crown thy Wishes
With a Reserve to my untainted Honour,
Depend upon a Father's Love.

Iza.
I ask no more, or of the Gods, or You.
[Ex. Iza.

Enter Decius.
Bla.
Thou'rt welcome Decius, doubly welcome, Now
What says the Consul to our New-born Hopes?
Are they approv'd, or are we Slaves to Carthage?

Dec.
Masters, I hope my Lord: But how those Hopes
Go forward am I sent to learn of you.
Are the Salapians still resolv'd?

Bla.
All Firm, and restless to Retrieve, or to
Revenge their Honour, and their Freedom lost,
Which daily now th'Insulting Hannibal,
Regardless of the Bonds on which he enter'd here
Most Tyrant-like incroaches on: For know
The false Pacuvius, tho' he wrought indeed
A spleenful Faction to betray the Town,
Yet with his utmost Skill cou'd on no easier terms
Deceive the Populace t'unbar the Gates,
Than first of twenty Days compleat allow'd
For ev'n those Votes, that had oppos'd his Entrance,
To make their Choice for Rome, or Hannibal,
Which is indeed for Death or Slavery,
As my wrong'd Brother Magius Blood severe has prov'd.

Dec.
How! Magius Dead! As a Delinquent Dead!
Are these his Proofs of Faith? Of what accus'd?

Bla.
I'll tell thee Decius.
My Brother seeing of late the Slave Pacuvius
Fawning, and Supple to the Imperious Nod
Of Hannibal (whom he five Days before
Had call'd his Country's Execrated Foe)
His Boiling Heart, in Horror of the Sight,
Ev'n to the Carthagineans Front burst forth
Into such sharp Invectives on Pacuvius,
Urging how much a Hero's Soul shou'd scorn
The abject Friendship of so vile a Wretch,
That tho' he lov'd the Treason, yet shou'd hate the Traytor:
Stern Hannibal incens'd as much at what his Sword
Had done, as what his Tongue then talk'd against him.
Swore on the Instant he shou'd kneel, and ask
Pacuvius Pardon, or that Instant die:
Which Magius answering with a scornful Smile,
That Moment by the Guards was dragg'd along,
And on the common Shambles lost his Head.

Dec.
O most Unhospitable Deed!
And how, my Lord, do the Salapians take it?

Bla.
As you may guess, by what I now from them
Have to the Consul late propos'd: They hate
This Deed, and by this Town restor'd to Rome,
Resolve immediate to Revenge it.

Dec.
And Right at once the Cause of Rome, and Blacius.

Bla.
For me it matters not: My pleas'd Despight
Is half by Fortune acted on Pacuvius.
I've liv'd at last to see him False and Perjur'd;
False to his Gods, and Hateful to Mankind:
For what can more deserve to be abhorr'd,
Than the vile Slave, that dares betray his Country?

Dec.
The greatest Justice that his Crimes can meet
Were from his greatest Foe to find his Punishment:
And that I hope the Gods reserve for you.

Bla.
Lift but my Eye-lids up Ye Powers to see
That Day, and let the Hand
Of Fortune close 'em then for ever—
We talk away the Time:
How near's the Roman Army to Salapia?

Dec.
Six Leagues this Morning was their utmost Distance,
And that their last Advances may be made
The Consul first has sent me for Advice,
To know what Numbers here were firmly Yours,
How soon they cou'd be ready to receive 'em,
What Gate wou'd easiest open to his Force,
And if to Night he may begin his silent March?

Bla.
First for our Numbers, our Accounts—But hold,
It won't be safe too far to charge your Memory;
I better shall dispatch my self in Writing,
You'll pardon, Sir, a Moment's Trespass on
Your Patience.—

Enter a Servant.
Ser.
My Lord, Pacuvius stays, from Hannibal
He says to treat with you.

Bla.
Pacuvius, ha!
'Twere too much hazard, Decius, shou'd he find
You here—Retire a Moment—
I guess his Business, which I'll soon dispatch,
And then return to our Affair.

Dec.
My Lord, I shall attend your leisure—
[Ex. Decius.

Bla.
Where is he?

Ser.
He walks, my Lord, without upon the Pavement;
And when I ask'd him if he'd please to Enter,
He stern reply'd me, No! I'll here see Blacius.
If he wont come, I'm answer'd, in his silence.

Bla.
Now our Design's so near a Head, it won't
Be safe to slight a Thought from Hannibal,
Tho' my swoll'n Heart disdains the Converse of
This Traytor—Shew me,—

Ex. Bla. and Ser.
The SCENE drawing Discovers Pacuvius alone in a Piazza before Blacius's House.
Pac.
Fool that I am! I've hazarded too far!
Shou'd Blacius now embrace the Offers I
Must make, again my weak Revenge might fail me:
For rather than partake one Cause with him,
I wou'd again revolt from Hannibal.
Since more my Spite to Blacius, than Regard
To Carthage, has reduc'd me False to Rome—'Tis true
I've promis'd Hannibal to tempt his Faith—
—I'll keep my Word—but keep the Statesman too,
Who order'd to sollicit what himself dislikes,
Takes care his manner of Persuasion may
Prevail to get the thing refus'd—He comes.

Enter Blacius.
Bla.
Thou hit'st me well, Pacuvius, and I'm glad
Thy Pride refuses thee to enter here,
Where Custom wou'd, I own, have bound me up
To Hospitable Forms, which my Sincerity
Disdains to pay the Man I hate.

Pac.
And to avoid Civilities from thee
Have I disdain'd to enter, and be these
The only Forms that ever pass between us.

Bla.
I greet thee with an equal Scorn,
'Tis well—Deliver now thy Message.

Pac.
My Message! What! think'st thou I am like thee?
A Slave to be commanded?

Bla.
No:
For to thy Fears and Falshood thou'rt a Slave,
By Rome abhorr'd, whose Cause thou hast betray'd;
By Hannibal despis'd, to whom thou art
A Slave, while I am only Captive from
The Chance of War, or rather not of War—

Pac.
But me—I hated thee, and I betray'd thee;
And 'tis indeed my Soul's most comfortable Thought,
To know that I have ruin'd thee.

Bla.
On to thy Business.

Pac.
To Business then—From Hannibal I come
To know, if yet thou hast resolv'd thy Choice;
Twelve of the Twenty Days allow'd are past,
And much he wonders at thy cold Regard
Of all those Courteous Liberties, which he
Unbound allows: No Guard upon thy Doors,
No Persons question'd in Regress, or Entrance,
Confin'd in nothing but thy Word for Residence;
And in return to all these Favours, thou
Not only doest delay thy own Alliance,
But with thy best Persuasions doest retard
Others inclin'd from their declaring—Now
I have discharg'd my Trust to Hannibal;
But to be honest to the Hate I owe thee too,
I plain confess I wish thee still his Enemy;
Nor wou'd I be a Monarch in that State,
That wou'd accept a Friend in Blacius:
I've said, and now—thy Answer.

Bla.
This:
Tell Hannibal, tho' Twelve,
Yet not the Twenty Days agreed are past;
Till then he's bound in Honour not to urge
My Choice, which yet it lists me not to make:
And for the boasted Courtesies he does me,
I've little tasted them since Magius Death.

Pac.
I had forgot—That too was wrought by me.
Magius had offended me, and I destroy'd him.

Bla.
O! give me Patience! Thou! the honest Truths
He spoke of thee consider'd in his Death,
Wou'dst thou ascribe what Hannibal before
Resolv'd, as done i'th'least regard to thee?
Away, thy little Spleen was never thought on! Thou!
Audacious Vanity!

Pac.
I tell thee, it was I—I gave thy Brother Death,
But thou'rt in Passion, and thy peevish Pride
Is touch'd to find thy Sorrows due to me.

Bla.
Is Passion then a Crime, when such as thou
Escape Jove's Thunder, and infest Mankind!
If Rage, or generous Resentment, be
For Wrougs yet unreveng'd, a Crime; 'tis sure
The only one thy Soul yet never knew.

Pac.
'Tis False! Nor is there in the horrid Scroll
Of Deeds facinorous a Crime, at which my Soul
Wou'd stop to prove my pointed Hate to Blacius:
Nay, if thou think'st 'tis Tameness makes me Cool,
I on occasion can be Loud as thee;
My Blood, as soon as thine, can boil to Passion,
My Eyes with equal Fire confront thy Rage,
My Sword with a superior Fury meet thee,
—But as thou art the Man I'm born to hate,
Whose anxious Life I rather shou'd preserve
To feed my Gall upon thy lingring Woes,
Methinks 'tis more tormenting to thy Spleen,
T'insult the thus—with calm deliberate Malice.

Bla.
Hear this ye Powers!

Pac.
One thing I farther too shou'd tell thee of,
(For I confess it is a feeling Pleasure
With such Excesses to afflict thy Soul)
Letters this Morn inform me, that my Son Perolla
In a late Sally at Petilia's Siege,
Has push'd his Youthful Gallantry so far,
That in thy Daughter Izadora's Eyes
The Action had such sweet Romantick Charms,
Sh'as quite forgot our Family's fierce Hate,
Disowns her Father, and pursues his Love,
I cannot say indeed she sigh'd in vain,
But I believe his Longings may be over,
For I am told the Boys satiety
Has since dismiss'd her home again to thee.

Bla.
Notorious! Damn'd, invented Falshood!
But that I've now a better way to gall
Thy Heart, my Sword shou'd right her injur'd Fame.
See there, the Stab to thy retorted Malice;
[Gives him Perolla's Letter.
Read there, who most forgets the Fathers's Hate:
From his own Hand thy conquer'd Son's her Slave,
In Terms submissive begs he may Espouse her,
He burns, he dies with Horrour to Enjoy her;
And let him perish, die and rot with lean Despair,
For cou'd (which is impossible) my Rage suppose,
That after my accumulated Wrongs,
And now thy spotted Malice to her Fame,
My Child cou'd think in favour of thy Son,
Perdition seize me, but these honest Hands
From her degenerate Breast shou'd rip her Heart,
And dash it in the Face of curs'd Perolla.

[Having read the Letter.
Pac.
Damnation! Marry her!

Bla.
Enter Izadora.

[Exit Blacius with Izadora.
Pac.
What grinning Fury from invidous Hell.
Has plotted with this Fiend to grate my Soul!
My Son! Perolla! O abandon'd Boy!
Do I behold my Treasure of Revenge,
Which I in Avarice of Hate had like
A Self-denying Miser hoarded up
For my Support in feebler Spleens, Old Age
At last exhausted by a Woman's smile,
Consum'd in Folly by a spendthrift Boy,
And drain'd in Riots of degenerate Love!
Nor stops the Horror there, but forms new Fears:
What if in spite to me, as I to him,
The Vengeful Blacius shou'd comply with Hannibal,
Become his firm Ally, and then perhaps
His servile Arts, as they prevail'd with Rome
To get himself in scorn preferr'd to me,
May possibly alike succeed with Carthage,
And so a second time insult my Fortune!
Ten Thousand Ponyards are within me,
—Be hush'd my Heart, a Beam of dawning Thought
Darts to my Brain, and forms Reviving Ease—
—The Means I have—why not Resolve the Deed?
'Tis done—my Vengeful Heart's at rest, and Blacius-dead.

Exit.