University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter Sejanus, Varro, Afer.
Seja.
'Tis only you must urge against him, Varro,
Nor I, nor Cæsar may appear therein,
Unless in your Defence, who are the Consul.
Here are the Notes what Points to touch on, read;
Be subtle in them, Afer has them too.

Var.
But is he summon'd?

Sej.
No, Cæsar has concluded it most fit
To take him unprepar'd.

Afer.
And prosecute all under Treason's name.

(They retire conferring.)
Enter Sabinus, Arruntius, Lepidus.
Sab.
What should this Meeting of the Senate be?

Arrun.
That can yon subtle Whisperers tell ye;
We are the good, dull, noble Lookers on,
And only call'd to keep the Marble warm.
What should we do with those deep Mysteries,
Proper to such fine Heads?

Lepid.
See their Action.

Sil.
Ay! now their Brains are lab'ring, now they work;
Their Souls the Looms of Vice are subtly weaving
Some curious Cobweb, to entangle Flies.—
(Trumpets.
Hark, this Trumpet speaks Tiberius near.
Now they take their Places, mark them well,
And you shall see 'em flatter Cæsar's Grief,
With pageant Sorrow, for his noble Son.
The good Sejanus too will mourn his Fate.

Enter (to them) Tiberius, Satrius, Natta, Latiaris, &c. The Senate sits.
Tib.
Hail to the Senate and the State of Rome.

Sej.
Great Emperor to whom our inmost Souls,
With zealous Love and strict Obedience bend;
With weeping Hearts and bitter Pangs of Woe,
Your faithful Senate mourn great Drusus Loss.
But Sighs and Tears are poor in such a Cause;
Were it not certain that we all must die,
This Stroke of Fate would claim eternal Woe.
The righteous Gods are just in their Decrees,
They may recal the Blessings they have giv'n,
And Mortals, tho' oppress'd, should not complain.

Tib.
Much I am bound to thank ye for your Loves,
'Tis true the Loss as Father claims my Tears;
But as the Public is my chiefest Care,
To Rome's Advantage private Griefs give Way.
Our Mother now is struck with hoary Time;
Ourself with aged Characters impress'd,
And Drusus gone. We must betimes reflect,
On those that may a timely Succour bring:
Therefore our only glad surviving Hope,
The noble Issue of Germanicus,
We to the Senate's Care do recommend,

Var.
May all the Gods consent to Cæsar's Wish,
And add to any Honours that may crown,
The Royal Issue of Germanicus.

Tib.
I thank ye, noble Fathers, in their Right,
And since I've been the happy Instrument,
Of your so much desired Affection
To this great Issue; I could wish, the Fates
Would here set peaceful Period to my Days.
However to my Labours, I intreat,
(And beg it of the Senate) some fit Ease.
The Burden is too heavy I sustain,
(On my unwilling Shoulders) And I pray
It may be taken off, and reconfer'd,
Upon the Consul or some other Roman,
More able, and more worthy than myself.
To be so held, in Guardianship and Trust,
Till the young Princes gain a proper Age.
I know my Weakness and so little covet,
(Like some gone past) that Weight which will oppress,
That my Ambition is the counter Part.

Sej.
But Rome the mighty Mistress of the World,
Whose Nerves, whose very Life, relies no less
On Cæsar's Strength, than Heav'n on Atlas,
Cannot admit it without general Ruin.

Arrun.
Ah! Are you there to bring his Highness off.

Sej.
Let Cæsar then no more decline to rule,
Nor urge a Point that doth so much oppose
His People's Welfare, and his Country's Good.

Tib.
Though I could wish, nay long to be at Rest;
Yet if Rome's Senators command me serve,
I must be glad to practise my Obedience,
And strive to be whatever they ordain.

Sej.
Words are but poor to speak our grateful Hearts,
For all those Blessings which you spread around.
Oh! may your Influence continue long,
Still may Prosperity attend your Reign,
Be still our Guardian Angel and our God.

Tib.
Proceed to the Affairs which call us here.

Afer.
Stand forth Caius Silius.

Sil.
On what Cause?

Afer.
That thou shalt hear.

Sab.
What can this mean?

Sil.
Speak on.

Afer.
Caius Silius, for thy late Victory,
Gain'd on Sacrovir thou had'st a Triumph,
Which no Man envied thee; nor would Cæsar or Rome
Admit thee, then to be defrauded
Of any Honours thy Deserts could claim;
In the fair Service of the Common-wealth.
But if—after all these Instances of Love,
It shall appear to Cæsar and the Senate,
Thou hast defil'd these Glories with thy Crimes?

Sil.
Ha! Say'st thou Crimes?

Afer.
Patience Silius.

Sil.
Preach Patience to thy Slaves, and not to me,
I am a Roman—What are my Crimes?—Proclaim 'em
Am I too rich, too honest for these Times?
Have I or Treasures, Jewels, House or Lands,
Which some Informer gapes for? Is my Strength
Too much to be admitted, or my Knowledge?
These, in our present State, are counted Crimes.

Afer.
Nay if the Name of Crimes touch thee so near,
With what Impotence and feeble Vindication,
Wilt thou endure the Matter to be search'd?

Sil.
I tell thee, Afer, more with Scorn than Fear.
Tho' I'm to stand against thy Heart and Tongue,
Those mercenary Tools of bribing Knaves:
Where's my Accuser of these mighty Crimes?

Var.
Here, 'tis I that will accuse thee, Silius
Against the Majesty of Rome and Cæsar,
I do pronounce thee a most guilty Cause,
Of drawing out the War in Gallia,
For which thou late did'st triumph, dissembling long
That Sacrovir to be an Enemy,
Only to make thy Entertainment more,
Whilst thou tyrannically poll'd the Province.
Wherein by base Desires of sordid Gain,
Thou hast discredited thy Actions worth,
And been a Traitor to the State.

Sil.
'Tis false.

Var.
If I not prove it, Cæsar, but unjustly
Have call'd him unto Trial here; I bind
Myself to suffer what I claim 'gainst him,
And yield, to have what I have spoke confirm'd,
By Judgment of the Court and all good Men.

Sil.
Cæsar I move to have my Cause deferr'd,
Till this Man's Consulship be out.

Tib.
We cannot,
Must not grant it.

Sil.
Why shall he mark out
My Day of Trial? Is he my Accuser?
And shall he be my Judge?

Tib.
It hath been usual,
And is a Right which Custom hath allow'd
The Magistrate, to call forth private Men,
And to appoint the Day,—which Privilege
We must not in the Consul see infring'd.

Sil.
Cæsar, this Fraud is worse than Violence,

Tib.
Silius, mistake us not, we dare not use
The Credit of the Consul, to thy Wrong:
But only do preserve his Place and Pow'r,
So far as it concerns the Dignity
And Honour of the State,—by the Capitol!
And all the Gods I swear—but that the dear Republic,
Our sacred Laws and just Authority,
Are interess'd therein, I should be silent.

Afer.
Please, Cæsar, to give Way unto his Trial,
He shall have Justice.

Sil.
Nay I shall have Law,
Shall I not, Afer? Speak.

Afer.
Would you have more?

Sil.
No! My fine Orator, I would no more,
Nor less, might I enjoy it natural.
Divested of your undermining Arts;
Not taught to speak unto your present Ends,
Free from thine, his, and all your cruel handling,
Foul wresting, and impossible Construction.

Afer.
He raves! He raves!

Sil.
Thou durst not tell me so,
Had'st thou not Cæsar's Warrant; I can see
Whose Pow'r condemns me.

Var.
This betrays his Spirit,
This doth enough declare him what he is.

Sil.
What am I? speak.

Var.
An Enemy to the State.

Sil.
What? because I am an Enemy to thee,
And such corrupted Ministers of th'State,
That here art made a present Instrument,
To gratify it, by thy own Disgrace?

Sej.
This to the Consul is most insolent,
And impious. if Magistrates are thus despis'd!
If the rude Tongue of Slander thus may wound,
Where reverential Awe should Duty pay,
Bondmen and Slaves may rule it o'er the State?
Ev'n this alone is criminal enough.
It speaks aloud a daring Rebel Mind.—
A Pride above Authority should fall.

Sil.
Right, vindicate your Deeds, reveal yourselves.
Alas! I scent not your Confederacies,
Your Plots and subtle Combinations.
Think'st thou Colossus of the Roman State,
I am so blind as not to see thy Hate?
To know that all this Boast of Law's, but form,
A Net of Vulcan's filing, a meer Engine,
To take that Life, by a Pretext of Justice,
Which you pursue in Malice?—Oh! ye Gods!
Whom not a World of wolf-turn'd Men,
Shall make me to accuse, howe'er provok'd.
Have I for this so oft' engag'd myself?
Stood in the Heat and Fervour of the Fight,
When Phæbus sooner has forsook the Sky,
Than I the Field?—Against the blue-ey'd Gauls,
And crisped Germans; when our Roman Eagles,
Have fann'd the Fires of War with lab'ring Wings,
And no Blow dealt, that left not Death behind it.
When I have charg'd, alone, into the Troops
Of curled Sicambrians, routed them, and came
Not off with backward Ensigns of a Slave,
But Marks, in Front; Wounds on this faithful Breast,
Were felt for thee, O Cæsar, and thy Rome.
And have I this Return?—did I for this,
Perform so noble and so brave Defeat
On Sacrovir? Great Jove! Let it become me
To boast my Deeds, when they whom they concern,
Can thus forget them.

Afer.
Silius, Silius,
These are the common Customs of thy Blood,
When it is high with Wine, as now with Rage.
This well agrees with the intemperate Vaunt,
Which late thou mad'st at Agrippina's House.
That when all other of the Troops were prone
To fall into Rebellion, only yours
Remain'd in their Obedience.—You were he
That sav'd the Empire—which had else been lost,
Had but your Legions at that Time rebell'd.
Your Virtue met, and fronted ev'ry Peril,
You gave to Cæsar and to Rome their Safety.
Their Name, their Strength, their Spirit and their State,
Their very Being's Donative from you.

Tib.
Is this true, Silius?

Sil.
Save thy Question, Cæsar,
Thy Spy of matchless Credit has affirm'd it.

Seja.
If this be so, there needs no farther Cause
Of Crime against him?—What can more impeach
The royal Dignity and State of Cæsar,
Than to be urged with a Benefit
He cannot pay?—In this, all Cæsar's Pow'r
Is made unequal to the Courtesy.

Var.
His Means are all destroy'd, that should requite.

Afer.
Nothing is great enough for Silius Merit.

Sat.
His huge Deserts not Royalty can pay.

Sil.
Why do ye strain Invention—thus hunt
And labour so about for Circumstance
To prove him guilty whom ye have foredoom'd?
Take shorter Ways—I'll meet your Purposes.
The Words were mine,—and now I more will say,
Since I have done thee such great Service, Cæsar,
Thou still hast fear'd me, and instead of Grace
Return'd me Hatred—so soon all Deserts,
With jealous Princes, turn deep Injuries
In Estimation when they higher rise,
Than can be answer'd, with your utmost Ease.
Your Studies are not how to thank, but kill.
It is your Nature to have all Men Slaves,
And he that might your dearest Friendship claim,
Shall soonest perish, if he stand in View,
Where he but front, or may oppose the Great.

Var.
Suffer him speak no more,—mark well his Spirit.

Afer.
This shews him in the rest, let him be censur'd,
For proud Rebellion speaks in ev'ry Word.

Sej.
He hath said enough to prove him Cæsar's Foe.
Such self Sufficiency and vaunting Pride,
Will ever hold the State in Disregard.
A turbulent and still repining Spirit,
Is to the Constitution a Disease,
And may prove mortal, if not quickly mov'd.
Therefore 'tis just immediate Censure pass.

Sil.
Stay, busy Senate, yet a Moment stay.
Since I must fall a Prey to factious Vice,
And feel th'Effect of great Sejanus Pow'r,
'Tis fit I ease the Burden of my Mind,
And hold a Mirror to your dazzled Eyes.
That you are Romans, being Sons of Rome,
The World allows; and therefore so are stil'd:
But where's the Roman Attributes my Friends
The Virtues which should ever wait the Name?
That Independency, and Justice uncorrupt,
Which plac'd your Ancestors in Rolls of Fame,
And set them up so high to mate with Gods?
Would they have been the Instruments of Pow'r,
And taught their Voices to obey Command?—
But I have done,—yet think not I have plac'd,
My Guards within me, against Fortune's Spite,
So weakly, but I can escape your Gripe,
That are but Hands of Fortune—she herself
When Virtue does oppose, must lose her Force.
All that can happen in this brittle Life,
The Frown of Cæsar, great Sejanus Hatred,
Base Varro's Spleen and Afer's bloodying Tongue:
The Senate's servile Flatt'ry—all these,
Muster'd to kill, I'm fortified against,
And can look down upon, they are beneath me.
It is not Life whereof I stand enamour'd,
Nor shall my End make me accuse my Fate.
The Coward and the Brave must one Time fall,
Only the Cause and Manner how, distinguish,
Romans if any be in this assembled Senate,
Who'd know to mock Tiberius Tyranny?
Look upon Silius, and, so, learn to die.

(Stabs himself.)
Var.
Oh! Desperate Rage.

Arr.
An honourable Hand.
My Thought did prompt him, Silius farewel,
Be ever famous for this glorious Deed.

Tib.
Is he dead?

Sil.
Ay! to thy Vengeance Cæsar,
Thus hath my Arm for Freedom, ever struck;
And been successful in the noble Cause.
Thus do I end an honourable Life;
Nor would I, to exist in such bad Times,
Had I the Pow'r; prevent the Ebb of Life.
Oh! Death thy Terrors are transform'd to Smiles,
And thy harsh Gripe, now, proves a fond Embrace.

(Dies.)
Tib.
We are not pleas'd with this sad Accident,
Which hath so suddenly prevented Mercy,
That we intended to this noble Roman.

Arr.
Excellent Wolf, now, he is full, he howls.

Sej.
Most mighty Cæsar's Clemency doth Wrong,
His Dignity,—nay Safety, thus to mourn,
The End deserv'd of so profess'd a Traitor.
An ill tim'd Lenity doth still instruct,
Others as factious to the like Offence.
Remove the Body—let Citation
Be issu'd for his Wife—let her be proscrib'd—
And for the Goods, I think it meet, that half
Go to the Publick, and to his Children half.

Tib.
Let this be ratified in our Decree,
Other Offenders we'll at Leisure try.
And for this Meeting break the Senate up.
Father's I do commend me to your Loves.

(Exeunt Senators.)
Sejanus and Tiberius remain.
Tib.
This, my Sejanus, hath succeeded well,
And quite remov'd all jealousy of Practice,
'gainst Agrippina and our Nephews—: Now
We must bethink us how to plant our Engines.
For t'other Pair, Sabinus and Arruntius,
Nay and Gallus too. Howe'er he flatters us,
His Heart we know.

Sej.
Give it some Respite, Cæsar,
Time shall mature and bring to perfect End,
What with such goodly Vizors we've begun.
Sabinus shall be next.

Tib.
Thou dearest Friend,
To thy sage Council will Tiberius yield:
For well thy Zeal and Loyalty we know.
Go forward in our main Design, and prosper.
(Exit Tiberius.)

Seja.
The chief of my Designs, I hope, will thrive,
Nor can it fail, while thou art thus misled.
Hear then my Flatteries digest my Schemes,
And may they lay that Hold upon thy Senses,
As thou had'st snuff'd up Hemlock, or ta'en down
The Juice of Poppy and Mandragora.
Think me the chief Foundation of thy Throne,
And lean secure thy Weight upon my Care:
Till subtle Artifice can find a Time
To slip—and let thee tumble from thy Height.
Then on thy Ruins soar to regal Sway,
And smile in Triumph at thy abject Fall.
Already by Hypocrisy I've gain'd,
A Knowledge of his secretest Affairs.
Drawn all Dispatches through my private Hands,
Know his Designments, and pursue my own.
Make my own Strength by giving secret Bribes,
Conferring Dignities and Offices.
The Minister who would betray his Prince
Must many large Dependencies appoint,
And those through Int'rest will defend his Cause.
When once I clap my Foot upon the Throne,
Even those who hate me now, will own my Sway;
For when they see me Arbiter of all,
They must observe, or else with Cæsar fall.