University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

Scene I.

Silius meeting Sabinus.
Sab.
Hail Caius Silius.

Sili.
Titus Sabinus Hail.
You're rarely met at Court.

Sab.
Therefore well met.

Sili.
'Tis true: A Court of Vice is not our Sphere.
We want the glossy Arts and thriving Use,
Should make us share the Sun-shine of this Place:
Which is the Soil of Flatt'ry and Deceit.
It is a Garden full of baneful Herbs,
Known by the Names of Sycophants and Slaves.
No Roman Spirit here could dwell at Ease,
Among the busy Herd of Knaves and Fools.

Sab.
We have no Change of Faces, no cleft Tongues,
No soft and glutinous Bodies, that can stick
Like Snails on painted Walls, or on our Breasts
Creep up, to fall from that proud Height, to which
We did by Slavery not Service climb.
We burn with no black Secrets, that can make
Us dear to the pale Authors, or live fear'd
Of their still waking Jealousy, to raise
Ourselves a Fortune by subverting theirs.
We stand not in the Lines that do advance,
To that so coveted Point.

Sili.
Heav'n forefend we should.
Yet here dwell some that do. Satrius Secundus
And Pinnarius Natta, two of the servile Herd,
The great Sejanus' Creatures. These are Men
Know more than honest Councils; whose Breasts
Were they rip'd up to Light, would plain appear,
The gloomy Cabinets of ev'ry Vice.
It is a simple Sin, to which their Trunks
Have not been made the Organs; they can lie,
Smile and betray, impeach the guiltless Man;
Sell to their Suitors, (shallow grapling Fools,)
The empty Smoak that flies about the Palace.
Laugh when their Patron laughs, frown as he frowns,
Change every Mood as often as he varies—
Gods! are these Men? Suffer ye Slaves like these,
To take your own great Likeness on themselves,
And act such Baseness in a human Shape!
Why are they not distinguish'd by a Form,
Vile and abhorred as their treach'rous Souls?
Then Honesty might seek a different Clime,
Divided from these Proselytes of Hell.

Sab.
Nay so universal is the Malady,
That all our Consuls, and no little part
Of such as have been Prætors; yea the most
Of Senators, so worthy is our State,
Start up in public Council, and there strive,
Who shall propose most abject things and base.
So much, that even Tiberius hath been heard,
Leaving the Court, to cry, “Oh Race of Men
“Prepar'd for Servitude”—Why ev'n he,
Who least the public Liberty should like,
Is sham'd, and blushes at their servile Deeds.

Sili.
Well, we deserve it all, nay and much more;
Who with our Riots, Pride and Civil Hate,
Have so provok'd the Vengeance of the Gods.
We who within these fourscore Years were born
Free, equal Lords of the subjected World,
And knew no Masters but Affections:
To which, betraying first our Liberties,
We since became the Slaves to one Man's Lust,
And now to many.—Ev'ry ministring Spy
That will accuse and swear, is Lord of you,
Of me, of all our Fortunes, nay our very Lives:
Our Looks are call'd in question, and our Words,
(How innocent soever) are made Crimes.
We shall not shortly dare to tell our Dreams,
Or think, but 'twill be Treason,—Where is now
The Soul which animated Godlike Cato,
Who durst oppose, when Cæsar dar'd do wrong?
Or where the constant Brutus, who being proof
Against the Charm of Benefits, did strike
So brave a Blow into the Tyrant's Heart,
That basely meant to captivate his Country?
Those mighty Spirits now are fled the Light,
And not a Spark of their eternal Fires,
Glows in a present Bosom.

Sab.
It pains to think,
How much beneath our Ancestors we fall;
Who guarded sacred Virtue with their Lives,
And dy'd with Honour, or liv'd ever free.

Sil.
Oh good Sabinus let Remembrance cease
'Twere better be incapable to think,
Than thro' Reflection to observe these Times.
See the great Mistress of the World enslav'd,
Oppress'd with Woes and harass'd out with Cares,
While her abandon'd Sons (quite lost to Fame)
Who should her sacred Liberty defend,
In Luxury and Riot spend their Time.
Become the voluntary Tools of Pow'r,
And work the Chains to manacle themselves.

Sab.
The only Spark of Virtue, that remains
Within the Verge of this detested Court,
Dwells in the noble Drusus' God-like Soul.
He with a Heart of Heaviness and Woe,
Beholds the Vices which inhabit here,
Reluctant Views his Father's abject State,
Not Emperor, but Pandar to Sejanus.

Sil.
'Tis true in Drusus Center all our Hopes,
I love him for opposing this Sejanus,
This mighty Giant that o'ertops us all.
In him the Sons of good Germanicus,
Find a sure Refuge from oppressive Pow'r.
Germanicus—To think of that great Man,
To think how much our Country lost in him,
How with him fled all Honour from our Court;
Howe'er unworthy Tears may seem in Man,
My Eyes will pay some tributary Drops.

Sab.
No more, here comes that Poison to our Souls,
The great Sejanus and his vassal Crew.
Now mark the Stoops, the Bendings and the Falls.

Sil. and Sab. retire.
Enter Sejanus, Satrius Natta, Attendants, &c.
Satr.
My Lord, a Gentleman of Rome would buy,

Seja.
How call you him, you spoke with even now?

Satr.
It is Eudemus Physician to the Princess?

Seja.
What, Drusus' Princess?

Satr.
Aye, my good Lord.

Seja.
On with your Suit, would buy you say—

Satr.
A Tribune's Place, my Lord.

Seja.
What will he give?

Satr.
Fifty Sestertia.

Seja.
Livia's Physician, say you, is that Fellow?

Satr.
Aye my honour'd Lord, your Lordship's Answer,
'Tis for a Gentleman you will approve;
And one the Grant will certainly make yours.

Seja.
Well, let him bring the Money and his Name;
Know you this same Eudemus, is he learn'd?

Satr.
Reputed so, and held in high Esteem.

Seja.
Then go and bring him to my Chamber straight,
I would confer with him about a Grief.

Exeunt Sej. Satr. &c.
Silius and Sabinus come forward.
Sili.
Gods! What a Train of Baseness there moves on:
Oh desperate State of Honour in Decay.
Dost thou see this, oh Sun! And wilt thou shine?
Methinks 'twere just the Day should lose its Light,
When worthless Men have lost the Sense of Shame,
And for the empty Circumstance of Life,
Betray their Cause of living.—Let us retire.
The Time at last may come, when we shall stand,
Asserting Freedom for our native Land,
In bold Defiance to all slavish Ties;
And Virtue once again triumphant rise.

Exeunt.
Scene changes. Enter Sejanus solus.
Seja.
That Drusus views me with an hateful Eye,
Is plain evinc'd by ev'ry Act and Word.
His sharp Invectives 'gainst my growing Pow'r,
Declare and prove, he is an envious Foe.
Besides, he stands a Bar to stop my Course;
Remove him then—oh study that, my Soul!—
Let not Thought rest, till he can think no more.
Plot Brain with direst Vengeance fraught,
To fix my Fortune on a stedfast Base.
Ambition places in my raptur'd View,
The sov'reign Rule, the Empire of the World;
And shall this Drusus cloud the gilded Scene?
No, first be Rome and all her Sons extinct;
If he is mortal, I will rule his Fate.
This same Eudemus must transact the Deed,
Whom I will quicken with inspiring Gold,
That certain spur—The Bait of sordid Fools;
That surest Med'cine to enslave the Soul,
And drive away each conscientious Qualm.
Conscience, the Deity of tim'rous Hearts,
Still rules predominant o'er sickly Minds,
A terrible tho' but an empty Shade.
Why should the Scarecrow of each languid Soul,
Aw'd by Religion and her phantom Laws,
Be ever suffer'd to assail the Great?
No, let the Poor be subject to her Sway,
Whilst Men, like me, possest of towring Souls,
O'erleap all Bounds at great Ambition's Call.

Enter Eudemus with Satrius.
Satr.
This is the Gentleman, my Lord.

Seja.
Is this?
Exit Satrius.
Give me your Hand, we must be better known,
And nearer yet acquainted with each other.
Report hath, Sir, been lavish in your Praise,
And I am glad I have so needful Cause,
(However painful in itself and hard)
To make me known to one of so much Worth.

Eude.
Your Lordship binds me ever to your Service,
To think me worthy of your smallest Trust.

Seja.
You are Physician to the Princess,
Are you not?

Eude.
I am, my gracious Lord.

Seja.
So shalt thou be to me, but in such sort,
As will for ever eternize thy Fame.
Thou shalt do more than Physic ever did.
For thou shalt heal a Fever in my Mind.

Eude.
My Lord, the Man now breaths not vital Air,
Whom Inclination would direct me serve,
(In any Act that leaves my Honour free,)
Before our Country's Glory—great Sejanus.

Seja.
Thou can'st no Honour lose in serving me.
What in the Eyes of Men would seem most vile,
Done for my Service, I can so requite,
As all the World shall stile it honourable.
Knowest thou the vast Extention of my Pow'r,
That I can even make and unmake Kings?
Who is there dares accuse a Friend of mine?
To be a Person fix'd in my Esteem,
Will clear thy Character from ev'ry Stain.
Therefore inform me, what I long to know,
(Not that I fear the Danger of his Hate,
But as I study for the Love of all,
And hourly labour to promote his Sway,)
Do'st thou not sometimes hear the haughty Prince,
Condemn my Character in abject Phrase?
To thee his Converse and his Thoughts are known,
Then frankly speak—it never shall escape,
But lie as deeply, hidden in this Breast,
As if 'twere center'd in the Womb of Earth.

Eude.
Oh my good Lord, if I should so betray
Their Councils, by whose Bounty I am fed,
What would your Highness think then of my Faith?
A Breach of Confidence 'twixt Man and Man,
Betrays a shallow and abandon'd Soul,
As such, could I seem worthy of Repose?

Seja.
I believe thou art secret—and I'll trust thee.
Yet I must charge thee to be just and true,
For if by any Means thou should'st disclose;
Expect a Storm to pour upon thy Head,
From which, with less than Life, thou can'st not 'scape.

Eude.
Doubt not, my Lord, most steady Faith and Love.
By all the Pow'rs which rule the World, I swear,
As I shall hope to live beneath your Smiles,
And taste the Bounty of your noble Soul,
I'll act with utmost Secrecy and Care.

Seja.
Would'st thou be great, and soar on Fortune's Wing,
E'er idly, drudge an abject Life away?
Would'st thou be listed in the Rolls of Fame,
And like a Comet shine to wond'ring Eyes;
Observe me well—And I'll point out the Way?
Know that the Princess holds my Heart in Chains,
(As thou ha'st Opportunity and Time,
To sound the Inclination of her Soul)
Would'st thou but be the Herald of my Love,
And gain Admittance, for my fervent Vows,
Such Wealth, such Pow'r, such Honour shalt thou wear,
As none beneath Regality e'er held.

Eude.
Happy am I, my Lord, in this Employ,
The Princess oft' to me has sigh'd your Name,
And languishingly wish'd she had been yours.
Drusus her present Lord she holds in Scorn,
Nor does indeed, my Love attend him much;
Not only for he treats me with Contempt,
But still your Lordship has engag'd my Heart.

Seja.
Let me embrace thee, pull thee to my Breast,
Thou in fond Love shalt be my other self.
But say, thou dearest Patron of my Wishes,
How I in private may the Princess see,
Declare my Love, and offer up my Heart.

Eude.
My Lord, this Day you secretly shall meet
Within my Gardens, there I'll lead your Lordship,
And when Success shall all your Wishes crown,
Then think, my Lord, how much I prove me yours.

Seja.
Use thy best Speed to find the beauteous fair;
And but affect her with Sejanus Love,
Thou art a Man, made to make Consuls.

Eude.
I promise you, my Lord, your utmost Wish.

Seja.
Let me adore my Æsculapius,
Why this is truly Physic to the Mind,
Beyond the Worth of poor corporeal Drugs,
This ministers Content, and would be cheaply bought
With an imperial Crown—fly my Friend,
Not barely stiled, but created so.
Expect Things greater than thy boldest Hopes
To overtake thee. Fortune shall be taught,
How ill she has behav'd, thus long to lag
Behind thy Wishes and Deserts—haste and prosper.
Exit Eudemus.
Why this looks well, my Schemes run nobly on,
The Structure of my Greatness rises fast,
And soon will hide its Head among the Clouds.
If Drusus' Wife, as he says, holds me dear,
(And I have Reason to believe it true,)
The Way lies plain to circumvent my Foe.
This Wretch, whom I have gain'd with fine spun Phrase,
And puff'd with Promises of large Extent,
Shall be the Instrument to gain my Ends.
What's he, that says, I act a Villain's Part,
Would not all act the same with equal Pow'r?
Let none but timid Proselytes obey
Where stinted Maxims circumscribe the Way,
Do thou Sejanus follow Glory's Call,
Nor slack thy Pace, till thou art Lord of all.
Exit Sejanus.

SCENE Changes. Enter Tiberius, Drusus, Silius Sabinus. Latiaris meeting them, kneels to Tiberius.
Tib.
Latiaris rise, I will not have thee kneel.
Our Empire, Ensigns, Axes, Rods and State,
Take not away our human Nature from us,
Look up on us, and fall before the Gods.

Lat.
Right mighty Lord—

Tib.
I prithee Peace,
These Flatteries do much offend mine Ears,
They are most irksome to a gen'rous Soul,
Base sordid Minds are fed with empty Praise,
And fondly dwell upon a Train of Titles,
Mere Trinkets of a childish Vanity.
Whence are those Dispatches?

(Gives Papers.)
Lat.
From the Senate.

Tib.
Are they sitting now?

Lat.
They wait your Answer, Cæsar.

(Aside to Sabi.)
Sili.
Were this Man's Mind but equal to his Words,
How great a Blessing would he prove to Rome?
But when his Grace is merely but Lip good,
And that no longer than he airs himself
Abroad in public Eyes; this is a Case
Deserves our Fears, and doth presage but Ill.

Tib.
This Answer to the rev'rend Senate bear.
I still shall labour to deserve their Loves,
And say there can be nothing in their Thoughts,
Shall fail to please us, once approv'd by them.
Our Suff'rage rather shall prevent, than lag,
Behind their Wills; 'Tis Empire to obey,
Where such so great, so grave, so good determine.

Lati.
What says your Highness to the Suit of Spain,
Does your high Will accord with their Request,
T'erect a Temple dedicate to you?

Tib.
The Offer merits, and has gain'd our Thanks,
But potent Reasons loudly speak against it.
We must (with Pardon of the Senate) not
Assent thereto, Compliance were a Fault.

Lat.
My Royal Lord, 'twere best assign some Cause,
The Asian Cities gain'd a like Request,
And this Denial may create a Jealousy.

Tib.
Let our Defence for suffering that be known,
Since deify'd Augustus hinder'd not,
(In Honour of himself and sacred Rome)
A Temple to be built at Pergamum,
We who have chose to copy all his Deeds
Follow'd that pleasing Precedent, because
With ours, the Senate's Approbation join'd.
But as t've once receiv'd it, may deserve
The Gain of Pardon, so to be ador'd
Thro' all the Provinces, were wild Ambition
And unbounded Pride.—'Tis ample Glory
To deserve the Name of King.—They shall add,
Abounding Grace unto our Memory,
Who shall report us worthy our Forefathers,
Careful of State Affairs, constant in Dangers,
And not afraid of any private Loss,
For public Good, such Attributes will be,
Temples and Statues fix'd upon your Minds;
The fairest, and most lasting Imag'ery.

Lat.
Divinely spoke—the Oracles are ceas'd,
That only Cæsar with their Tongues should speak.

Tib.
Their Choice of Antium, there to place the Gift,
Vow'd to the Goddess for my Mother's Health,
We will the Senate know, we much approve.
As also of their Grant to Lepidus,
For his repairing the Æ milian Place,
And Restoration of those Monuments.
But for the Honours which they have decreed
For our Sejanus; to advance his Statue
In Pompey's Theatre, they have outgone
Their own great Wisdom in such skillful Choice,
And placing of their Bounties, on a Man
Whose Merit more adorns the Dignity,
Than that can him, and gives a Benefit
In taking, greater than it can receive.
I am much pleas'd that they so honour him.—
Haste, and to the Senate bear our kindest Love.

Exit Latiaris.
Drus.
Most noble Father, whom my Soul reveres,
With strict Sincerity and filial Love,
Let it not seem Presumption in a Son
To speak, where public Good so loudly calls.
I fear the Consequence of Honours heap'd
In such abundance on this artful Man,
Who creeps into your Breast, but with Design
When Time may serve, to sting you to the Heart.

Tib.
I still have us'd thee with paternal Care;
Bred thee to Honour, and a lasting Fame,
Then let me not be frustrate in my Hopes.
The gen'rous Mind above pale Envy soars,
And smiles when Merit meets a just Reward.
I charge thee then repeat thy Fears no more,
They are unworthy of a kingly Soul,
Of Inconsistencies and Vapours form'd.
Sejanus more deserves than I can give,
If thou would'st keep a Place in my Esteem,
United still in strictest Friendship move,
Caress and think him worthy of thy Love.
Exit Tiberius.

Drus.
Then has my Father lost all Sense of Fame,
He is of Life grown weary, and of Rule.
To dress an Idol up with Pomp and Praise,
Give Honours to a sycophantic Slave:
Make him his Mate to rival him in Empire.
A Serpent too that labours to destroy,
And gorge his Hunger in his Patron's Blood.

Sil.
True, noble Prince, it is a dang'rous Slave,
And wants not Inclination, but the Pow'r,
To prey on all, who dare oppose his Will;
But if with these high Honours he is crown'd,
Then Honesty must quickly fly this Land,
Or else in Tortures it will meet Reward.

Drus.
The first Ascents to Empire still are hard,
But enter'd once, there never wants, or Means,
Or Ministers to help th'Aspirer on.
Nay even those my Father furnishes.
So studious is he to prefer this Man,
That Favours still outsoar Ambition's Wing.

Sejanus crosses the Stage attended, jostles Drusus.
Drus.
What, is your Highness grown so blindly bold,
That you will make us Foot-steps for your Pride?

Seja.
Give Way then.

Drus.
What to such a Peasant Slave as thou?
A Serpent that is gilded all without,
Within all Poison and Corruption.

Seja.
Rail on, for I can tamely hear and scorn,
The empty Satire of thy headlong Youth,
Which knows not how to judge of Noblemen.

Drus.
Thou Noble, Reptile, thou art all that's base,
Envy, pale Envy and her ghastly Train,
For ever dwell within thy gloomy Breast.
When thou wert born, each Virtue frighted fled,
And left thy Frame the Citadel of Vice.

Seja.
Thou know'st my Duty bids me not revenge,
Therefore no more.

Drus.
Ha! dar'st thou frown at me,
And come ye here to brave me to my Face? (Strikes him.)

Be taught by this, how I regard your Highness,
Nay come, approach. What stand ye off at gaze?
It looks too full of Death for thy base Soul.
Avoid my Sight, vile Caitiff, or my Sword
Shall make your Greatness fitter for a Grave,
Than for a Triumph; your Pile of Greatness,
And all the partial Honours you enjoy,
By me shall soon be levell'd to the Dust,
A dread Example of ambitious Pride.

(Exeunt Drusus, Silius and Sabinus.)
Seja.
A Blow—rash Youth—that Stroke thou'lt dearly pay,
For if the subtle Engine of my Brain,
Can work a Tangle to ensnare thy Life,
By great Revenge thou shalt not live a Day.
Before I had resolv'd upon thy Doom;
But this shall be a Spur to urge it on.
He who can bear such Wrong with steady Mind,
Knows how with fit Occasion to retort.
Wrath wrap'd in Darkness carries certain Fate,
Revenge were lost, should I profess my Hate.
Vengeance shall gather like a Summer Storm,
No Clouds shall low'r, till Fiends the Deed perform.
Take him, when unprepar'd to stand the Blast,
And make one fatal Stroke, the first and last.