University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

Enter CLODIA.
CLODIA.
Where, where is he?
Thus let me fly to him.—Hah! who art thou?

PISO.
Not know me, Clodia? Your old faithful slave,
That throwing thus his age and cares aside,
Runs to thy arms with a young lover's ardor,
To claim thy transports, and return their warmth.

CLODIA.
Off, monster, off! nor blast me with thy touch.

PISO.
What can this mean? yet, yet, you know me not.

CLODIA.
Yes, yes, I know thee, (cursed be the mark!)
I thought to have flush'd an Eagle in my toils,
And find a filthy Raven in his place.

PISO.
It seems I come unwelcome then.

CLODIA.
You do,
Most fatally; and I would curse thee for it,
But that thou earriest every plague about thee,
That I could wish, or Hell itself inflict:
Who brought you here? At this late hour how dar'd you
To come unask'd?

PISO.
Unask'd, perfidious woman!
With your own lips you spoke, repeated welcomes;
The slave that brought 'em swore it.

CLODIA.
Like a slave
He lied; or if I did, my mind is chang'd,
And as 'twas then my pleasure you should come,
'Tis now my will that you depart.

PISO.
No more?—
Thus do you treat me, thus spurn from your doors,
Like a base lacquey, the first man in Rome?
But have a care, the trodden worm will turn;
And I have found thee, proud insatiate woman:
You have your private, cull'd, and midnight sparks,
Ready at hand against the hot fire takes you,
The hirelings of your lust.

CLODIA.
Blaspheming villain!
Oh! that the noble youth were here! I tell thee,
Pale, tott'ring coward! he would thrust that tongue,
That lying tongue, down thy base scurrilous throat.
Away, old hypocrite! you dare as well
With those blear blister'd eyes of thine look up
In the broad face of the meridian sun,
When he drinks up the Tyber, as abide
The terror of his frown.

PISO.
Would he were here!

Enter FRUGI.
FRUGI.
Behold, you have your wish.

CLODIA.
Gods! Gods! I thank ye.
Thrice welcome, my deliverer; what blest star
Led you unseen to save me? Now you see him;
Now you behold the slave, the midnight hireling;
Hah! looks he like a hireling, like a slave?
Down on your knees, your old weak trembling knees,
And wet his feet with supplicating tears.

PISO.
Peace, Clodia, peace: Young Lord, I joy to see you;
I came a suppliant to this lady's brother,
For our friend Cicero, and, how I know not,
Whether I spake too warm in his behalf,
Or whether my rude manners gave offence;
But I, alas! unwittingly have drawn
Displeasure from the fair.

FRUGI.
Alas! good man;
If I may boast an interest in her thoughts,
All shall be well; we'll all be reconcil'd;
I too have hopes of pardon from your favour.

PISO.
What pardon can the noble Frugi need?

FRUGI.
Alas! my offence is heinous.

CLODIA.
What intends he?
Where will this end?

(Aside.
PISO.
Fear not, but speak it boldly;
It cannot be too great for my forgiveness.

FRUGI.
First then the names of slave, and midnight hireling,
Which you bestow'd on me unseen, I take,
And wear them as my own.

CLODIA.
I'm dumb with wonder.

FRUGI.
For I have ta'en the office of a slave,
And been a spy upon you; turn'd a list'ner
To your most grave soliloquy, am witness
To this fair lady's most unkind disdain,
And your most patient bearing; am possest
Of your whole heart, and know you what you are.

PISO.
What am I, speak Sir!

FRUGI.
Pardon me, my Lord;
I'll tell you what you should be; honest, grave,
And sober; Consul you should be, and noble
As your birth speaks you; in one word,—a Roman!

CLODIA.
Hear you that, Sir? O how thou charm'st me, Caius!
My soul drinks love and wisdom from thy lips.

PISO.
Consul I am, and will be, and as Consul
Command you from my presence; hence, avoid!—

FRUGI.
Weak man, I will not, you mistake your office;
Your Fasces and your Lictors pass not here
Within a lady's chamber; your great title
Is here your shame not safe-guard.

PISO.
This to me?
Honour enough for thee to draw thy blood
At humble distance from the same great fount,
With which these veins are fill'd, audacious boy!

FRUGI.
Boast not your birth, lest your great father's tomb
Utter a voice against you; sheath your sword,
And hide one weakness more: I'll not betray you;
Live still a lie; hypocrisy in you
Stands in some rank of merit, and in time
By feigning virtue, may you learn to have it!

PISO.
Now by the Gods!—

FRUGI.
No more; O shame, shame, shame!
Is this to be a Consul? Go to Cicero,
Ponder the annals of his glorious aera;
Go to his sober couch, and learn of him
To watch and labour in thy country's service,
And be the guardian of expiring freedom.

(Exit Piso.