University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

An Apartment in the House of Belisarius.
Phorbas, Marcella.
Mar.
Forgive me, Phorbas! but the scenes of night
Are still before my eyes. I saw thee clad
As yesterday, in rich triumphal robes;
I stood as then, upon the northern tower
Marking thy gallant entrance. On a sudden
Dark dismal clouds whence sulphurous lightnings flash'd
Opposed my view. When strait I saw thee dead,
Cover'd with wounds, and Narbal waving o'er thee
A sword bedew'd with blood. I waked in horror;
Nor can I yet erase the deep impression.

Phor.
And shall unreal dreams disturb thy peace?
Disjointed emblems of our waking thoughts?
Where is the wisdom of Marcella's mind?
True, we have fear'd the base deceit of Narbal;
But fresh-adorn'd with honour and renown,
With power invested, in Justinian's love
Fix'd firm, in vain will he and Theodora
Their malice point, which stingless, shall inflict
No mortal wound.

Mar.
Why cannot we retire
With Belisarius? What is power or fame,
To those unenvied joys which bless the country?

Phor.
What joys can thy imagination paint?

Mar.
Ah! canst thou ask me? Should I not possess
Thy much-lov'd converse? balm of every care?
The verdure of the fields, the gurgling brooks,
The high oaks quivering to the western gale,
The yellow corn-field, and melodious note
Of lark, or nightingale, to me are joys
Of secondary consequence.

Phor.
No more,
Alluring temptress! inclination leads
With thee to pleasing fond ideal haunts;
But duty, fame, and virtue fix me here.
Well have thy father's actions earn'd retirement,
Like autumn's fruits thick hang his honours on him,
Mine are but in the blossom.—lo! he comes!

Belisarius
advancing.
Welcome the prospect of serene delight!
Of calm content, whose gentle rays shall gild
The evening of my life! unvex'd by storms
Which shake ambition; far from hate and guile;
And the pernicious blast of sickening envy.
(Seeing Marcella and Phorbas.)
My Phorbas! my Marcella!—and behold
(Enter Antonina and Junius.)
Junius and Antonina!—sweetest boy!
Thy tongue shall charm the weary hours of age,
And soothe it's pains.—Oh! best and most beloved!
This is the auspicious time which sets me free.
Not with more heart-felt pleasure doth the rustic
After the toils of day, at sun-set enter
His lowly home. Like the old warrior horse,
Dismiss'd by some kind master, to his hills,
And verdant meads, once more shall I revisit
The paths of nature, and sensations feel
Long unexperienc'd.

Phor.
Thus the ancient Roman,
From dictatorial pomp his farm regain'd,
Array'd in glory.—Fit for every station
Art thou; the warrior, politician, sage,
In thee are blended.

Bel.
What from some, my son,
Might be deem'd flattery, in thee is love,
Respect, and filial duty.—To thy hands
My charge, the good Justinian hath deliver'd!
And, trust me, an important one it is,
Requiring all thy vigour. Oh! be still,
Just, and humane! to strictest discipline
Add tender care, so shall the soldiers bless thee.
Be to thy enemies, in battle, dreadful;
But spare the suppliant, spare the unarmed head.
Nor ever let the old disbanded warrior
Taste of distress and penury.

Phor.
To thee
I owe whate'er I am!—to thy example
Whate'er I shall be.

Bel.
Bear thyself upright
In camp, or court; despise the unsound policy
Of knavish cunning. Far above the reach
Of the mean villain soars illustrious greatness,
And excellence of soul.—Yet prudent be thou,
And circumspect. Above the rest of men
Beware of Narbal; trust not Theodora.
Safe in thy proper dignity, nor dread,
Nor with blind confidence repose on others.
Why weeps my daughter?

Mar.
Happiness is yours.
Here splendid care and discontent reside.
Fain would I sacrifice some years of life
Thus to retreat.

Bel.
Be comforted my daughter.
In such a dearth of goodness, duty calls
On youths who like thy Phorbas feel the flame
Of patriot love, to mingle with the crew
Of base pretenders.—I but go before
Your steward, and purveyor. Each addition
Of use or ornament, I shall be pleased
To think you one day will possess, and love
The building, for the builder. Every tree
I plant, will please me, when I shall reflect
You and your children will enjoy the shade.
It is not probable his days of trouble
Will equal mine; long e'er he shall arrive
At my extent of years, I hope the army,
The state will spare him.
Enter Caius.
Caius! hah! thy errand!

Caius.
The messenger of ill I come. Oh! fly!
Quit these vile dwellings of deceit and fraud
With rapid eagle's speed! By Narbal trusted,
Eumenes is your friend: from him I come.
Deep is the plot, and strong is the conspiracy,
Tho it's extent he knows not. He and Decius
Are ordered to convey you to the palace,
While Entyches among his pious brethren
Whispers malignant lies; that you propose
Our worship to o'erthrow, and rear again
The pagan structure from its mouldering ruins.
Narbal and Theodora have determined
That not your long deserts, your bravery, virtue,
Nor e'en your new-won triumph shall protect you.
Eumenes sees no safety but in flight.
Haste! frustrate by your speed the dire intent
Of base malevolence.—I must away,
Lest intercepted I should share your fate,
And lose all future power to aid, to serve you.

(Exit.
Ant.
Oh! fly! this instant fly!

Mar.
Lose not a moment.

Phor.
Haste to Nicanor! by the port he dwells,
And will with speed convene the band of veterans.
In the first bark we find, with our domestics
Steer we for Asia, where all hearts are thine.
Meanwhile the veterans shall secure our passage.

Bel.
Steer thou for Asia! seek its farthest climes!
Fly all! but Belisarius here remains.

Ant.
A prey to Narbal?

Bel.
Not a fugitive,
Proclaiming guilt.

Ant.
I see, alas! thy death.

Bel.
Which I have never fear'd.

Mar.
Yet pity us!

Bel.
I do. But will not skreen myself by baseness.

Mar.
What refuge then remains?

Bel.
Our innocence.

Mar.
What guard is that?

Bel.
More than encircling armies;
It fortifies the heart.

Mar.
Oh! we are lost!
I see my Phorbas all our fate before us,
Painted in blackest characters I see it.
O Belisarius, if thou wilt not yield
To our intreaties, kill us not with sternness!
Kneel Junius! heed, oh! heed his infant prayer!

Bel.
Why wound me thus Marcella! I knew not
That I was stern. Your looks, your sighs affect me.
Various are now the feelings of my soul;
Pity for you, indignant rage, disdain,
And love of glory. Mid the different conflict
The latter triumphs. Belisarius must not
Sink in his own opinion. Grief may rend
My heart; treatment unmerited stir up
Resentment in me; but my eye shall not
Quit sight of the guiding star, fix'd rectitude,
That never sets.—Lead these distress'd apart!
Fear not. Prosperity again will smile.
Lead them apart my son!—I meet alone
These messengers.

[Exeunt.
Belisarius
(alone.)
'Tis true. I feel it now in every nerve—
The energy of virtue. It supports,
Enlightens, strengthens.—Tryer of mankind!
Adversity! come onward! I will meet thee
With open arms. To the unprepared heart
How dreadful are thy terrors!—All that's pass'd,
A bright extent of fame, beyond thy power
Is placed.—Tho they have reach'd my stage of being,
How many sink oblivious!—I have lived
Compared with them, this mortal life thrice o'er.
With blessings, praises, willing honours crown'd,
Unforced, unbought applause.—The recollection
Warms me throughout, and thaws the frost of age
Which otherwise would make the thicken'd blood
Curdle within it's mazy labyrinths.
Yet am I man—nature is powerful still—
A sigh will rise; a tear will fall—firm bound
Is the connubial, the parental chain.
Whatever link is shock'd, the faithful center
Feels the vibration.—In myself prepared
To meet each accident, for them my soul
Is soft as melting wax.—No more of this.—
I'm ready.—Yet is passive fortitude
More arduous, than most intrepid action.

Enter Decius, Eumenes, Caius, Slave, and Guards.
Dec.
The Emperor's mandate.

Bel.
I obey his orders;
And am your prisoner. Take my sword; it's edge
None but his enemies e'er felt. The weapon
Is little worth; the cause it hath been used in
Was always just. My son is comprehended
Within this schedule; he will soon attend.
What is the imputed crime?

Dec.
My orders urge me
To haste immediate, nor admit a parley.
This faithful slave discovers hidden letters,
And doubtless those the criminal hath read.

Bel.
I read upon thy forehead, Narbal's creature;
And in his eyes, a lye.

Dec.
Suspect not us;
Narbal and Decius are thy friends.

Bel.
Ulysses
Pleaded for Palamedes, when he placed
The gold within his tent, which caused his death.

Dec.
I oft have mark'd, and wonder'd how serenity
Can with the traitor dwell. O shame! Justinian
Hath loaded thee with generous acts of kindness,
For which thy honest hand would plant a dagger
In his unthinking heart.

Bel.
At length thy words
Betray thee. So the serpent lurks awhile
Hissing beneath his bush, e'er he discovers
His speckled crest, and brandishes his sting.

Dec.
I came not to impart, or hear reproaches.
Tullus with me. (to the Slave.)
Eumenes guard the passage.
I will secure his son, these papers seize,
And strait return.—

(Exeunt Decius and Slave, &c.
Eum.
Retire, and keep the door.
(to the guards.)
Caius remain. O Belisarius would'st thou not
Enjoy thy liberty?

Bel.
It's golden hours
Are worth a kingdom's price.

Eum.
They may be thine.

Bel.
What mean'st thou?

Eum.
We have sounded
The guards, and half will join the flight; should Decius
Offer resistance, he would rue the trial.
Meanwhile thy family may gain the port;
We soon will follow.

Bel.
Am I then so alter'd?
Dost thou not know me? Who am I?

Eum.
The man
Whom I most honour, Belisarius,
This age's glory, and it's wonder.

Bel.
Hold—
No more.—Years have not changed or warp'd my nature;
I still am Belisarius. Art thou answer'd?

Eum.
I am perforce.

Bel.
Thy friendship I have always
Regarded well. This testimony of it
I mean to bury deep within my breast,
Nor let it ever rise to light against thee.

Enter Decius, Phorbas, &c.
Bel.
Thy looks infect my aged eyes, my son.
How did'st thou leave them?

Phor.
Overcome with grief,
Too violent to utter their complaints.
They only wring their hands, sitting in silence
And motionless as statues. I should there
Have grown into the earth, had not stern force
Dragg'd me away.—'Twere best you saw them not.

Bel.
I see them now too well. My heart o'erflows
With sympathising pity. Weakness causes not
Thy tears or mine; for they deserve the tribute.
So excellent in nature, so affectionate,
With meekest duty joining tenderest love;
Deep will affliction penetrate their souls,
And I feel all the wound. O my good youth!—

Dec.
Are you prepared?

Bel.
We are. The stroke of malice
May stun, but not destroy. I've seen the soldier
Tho sunk upon his knee, rebound with vigour,
And slay the enemy who gave the blow.
If overcome, he for his country died,
And cheated death, acquiring endless glory.
The field is not the only bed of honour;
The gloomy prison, torturing wheel, or scaffold
Virtue can sanctify. The thoughts of men
No power controuls, and aftertimes embalm
The memory of the good. Guilt trembles ever;
Fearful thro life; and on the silken bed,
Or stretch'd on roses, sees with ghastly eye
Death's flow, but sure approach. It's end is dreadful;
A lesson to the present, to posterity
A tale of ignominy and contempt.
Proceed.—We follow.