University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Enter Æmilius; and from the other side of the stage, Lucius.
Lucius.
To every post and station round the wall
Your orders have been borne. And each commander
With zeal obey'd.

Æmilius.
The soldiers' countenance,
How seems it, Lucius?

Lucius.
Determin'd to the death.
Strong indignation at their leader's fate,
With grief and pity, o'er their visage gleams;
But every passion settles to revenge.

Æmilius.
Lucius! 'tis well. See that my steed be led
Accoutr'd to the gate. I know not, Lucius,
How soon I may bestride him.

Exit Lucius.
Æmilius
alone.
This distress
Grows heavier every hour: like a green wound,
At first I felt it not; it rankles now.
Would I had listen'd to the urgent voice
Of nature, when she call'd me to the field!
Who could have blam'd the passions of a father?
If Rome had blam'd me, in the silent tomb
Her voice had not been heard.

Enter Cornelia.
Cornelia.
Why tarries Varus?

Æmilius.
He will return, Cornelia! doubt not that.
The tyrant knows the snare in which we're caught,
And to the uttermost will prove our souls
Before he breaks it.

Cornelia.
By the gods inspir'd,
The priest hath found the means to set us free,
If you consent.

Æmilius.
If I consent? alas!
That doubt implies suspicion of the means.

Cornelia.
Hear me, and judge: capitulate with Maximin,
In three days hence to yield up Aquileia,
If not reliev'd. Before that time expires,
The arms of Rome victorious raise the siege;
Or, if defeated, make resistance vain.
Bend not thine eye, Æmilius, on the ground!
The strictest law of duty is fulfill'd.
If thou reject'st this counsel, I will say,
Not Maximin the tyrant slew my children,
But their own cruel father.

Æmilius.
Oh! forbear!
My soul is rack'd; my heart asunder torn,
The eyes of all the world on me are fix'd;
Rome and mankind from me expect their fate.
I must consider this applauded counsel,
Ere I embrace.

Cornelia.
This city is not Rome,
Nor your small garrison the Roman host.
A part, a little part, a very grain
Of publick interest, in your mind outweighs
Your children, all your children. Oh! Æmilius!
Alike the father and the mother bear
The name of parent; but a parent's love
Lives only in the tender mother's heart.

Æmilius.
First let us learn what answer Varus brings.
Enter Varus.
He comes, and various passions dim his face.

Cornelia.
O! Varus, Varus!

Varus.
Oh! too just thy fears!
Of my lov'd kinsmen unrevok'd the doom!
Varus hath kneel'd in vain. Hard as the rocks
Of wild Dalmatia, is the tyrant's heart.
Incens'd at the refusal which I bore,
His fury rages like a fire confin'd,
And threatens every quarter. Hear, Æmilius,
And tremble now for Rome, as for thy children!

Æmilius.
For Rome?

Varus.
The tyrant (lend me patience, Heaven!
To speak with calmness, I who serve him still)
This day hath vow'd to raze imperial Rome.

Æmilius.
Barbarian! why?

Varus.
To fix his wavering host,
To glut his legions with the mighty spoil.
Disease and famine prey upon his troops,
And rumour cries, that a relief is near.
The soldiers faint, and murmur at the length
And havock of this siege. The crafty tyrant
With sound of trumpet thro' his camp proclaim'd,
That he will give the city to be sack'd,
Raze her proud walls, and change the seat of empire.
The glad Barbarians shouted to the skies,
And mix'd with their applause unheard of oaths
To die with Maximin.

Æmilius.
What said the Romans?

Varus.
In number few, and scatter'd thro' the bands,
They griev'd, but carefully supprest their sorrow.

Æmilius.
Was there no Roman near enough to plant
A dagger in the heart of Maximin?

Varus.
Before the tyrant reach the walls of Rome,
That Roman may be found.

Æmilius.
Above the name
Of god-like Scævola his fame shall rise.

Varus.
The righteous gods, whom Maximin contemns,
Have in their vengeance urg'd his frantic mind
By this decree to work his own perdition.
Long honour'd Rome! tho' thou hast lost so much
Of thy primæval splendor, still my heart
Thy image worships; still for thee I fought,
And from Siluria, to the savage shore
Of Caledonia, I thy trophies rear'd!
And shall thy soldier draw his sword against thee,
Or stand a tame spectator of thy fall?
No! I am thine, devoted, as of old
Thy darling sons, when first thy glory rose.
Nor shall thy turrets bow, imperial Rome!
Till low in dust the head of Varus lies.

Æmilius.
There spoke a Roman!

Cornelia.
I rejoice to hear
The voice of Varus thus declare for Rome.
Her distant danger may thy arm avert!
But who defends my sons, whose sudden fate
This day decides?

Varus.
O were it possible
To gain a short delay! Time presses me;
For strong in troops and terrible is Maximin,
Nor am I yet prepar'd to rise in arms.
In a few days—nay, if the Roman host
Were near at hand,—

Cornelia.
My husband, speak!

Æmilius.
O! Varus!
The fates are merciful. Peruse these lines.

Varus.
“In three days hence.” Then, tyrant, I shall meet thee.
But what can sheath this day the naked sword?

Æmilius.
A truce I'll offer, bind myself by vow
(Nor is the practice new or strange in war)
Within a certain time to yield the city,
If not reliev'd; the time, this scroll directs,
The fourth revolving day.

Varus.
I see their aim.
Ere that, the blow is struck by Gordianus;
Ere that shall Varus spread his Roman eagle,
And chace the raven of Dalmatia home.

Æmilius.
Thou think'st the tyrant will accept those terms?

Varus.
I hold it certain: he can wish no more;
Unknown to him th'approach of Gordianus.
By Mars, the father of the Roman race,
Whose spear omnipotent in battle rules,
My life shall stand betwixt your sons and death

Cornelia.
O best of friends! This is the work of heaven,
Whose awful purposes, unconscious man
Promotes, and fondly thinks he serves his own.
Thus from remotest Britain's frozen shore
The tyrant to his aid the warrior calls,
Who comes, a weapon in the hand of Jove,
To smite the proud usurper, and preserve
My children.

Æmilius.
Yea, his country and mankind.

Varus.
May the event these pleasing hopes fulfil.
I, that have been a soldier from my youth,
And fought out many a hard unequal conflict
With tribes and nations who no mercy know,
Yet never felt my bosom thus alarm'd.

Æmilius.
For us, for Rome, thy Roman mind is mov'd.

Varus.
In a new path I tread. I, that ne'er us'd
Dissimulation, must a while dissemble.
Soon may the hour of nobler action come!
When in the front of my brave troops I stand,
And dare the hateful tyrant with my sword,
My heart shall beat no more. My friends, farewel!

Cornelia.
The gods protect thee, Varus!

Varus.
Consul, 'tis meet
You hold your troops prepar'd, and from the walls
Each motion watch, that rises in our camp.

Æmilius.
My vigilance shall equal the occasion.
[Exit Varus.
'Tis, as thou said'st, indeed the hand of heaven!
Ye powers supreme! who guide the line of fate,
Whose winding course eludes the sense of man,
Who could have thought that from our deep distress,
My sons' captivity, and threaten'd death,
Should spring the ruin of insulting Maximin?

Cornelia.
Him, who contemns the gods, the gods will punish
Now or hereafter. To the altar I
Of Jove will hasten, and his power implore.
Here Lucius comes.

Enter Lucius.
Æmilius.
What tidings?

Lucius.
Good, my lord!
Far on the distant heights that close the vale,
The watchmen have descried a welcome sight,
Eagles and standards glittering in the sun,
Squadrons of horse that move along the hill.
Your faithful soldiers in loud shouts rejoice,
And hail the van of Gordianus' host.

Æmilius.
Too soon, great gods! they come.

Lucius.
Too soon, my lord!
That cannot be. In a most happy hour
Relief approaches. For in every street
Th'afflicted citizens exclaim against you,
And, as they pass, upbraid the patient soldier
For tame submission to your rigid will;
Which even your children's danger cannot bend.

Æmilius.
Would to the gods their murmurs and reproaches
Were all I had to bear!
Enter a Herald and an Officer from Maximin.
Now bursts the storm.

Cornelia.
This is not Varus. Sternly he comes on.
This is the dreadful harbinger of death.

Officer.
Consul! I come from Maximin; that prince
Whose wrath is terrible, now burns with wrath
At thee, and sends me to denounce his vengeance.
He hath discover'd thy unworthy arts,
The fraudulent proposal of a truce,
When thou did'st know the rebel host drew near.
Hither I come to cut all treaties short,
And to pronounce thy sons' immediate death,
Unless, without delay, thou yield'st this city,
Thyself, thy legions, freely to his mercy.

Æmilius.
A cruel message harshly thou deliver'st,
The dreadful echo of thy threat'ning lord.
He grows in his demands.

Officer.
'Tis fit he should
When basely dealt with: treachery still finds
It's due reward from him.

Æmilius.
Ha! who art thou,
Who dar'st presume thus to address the consul?

Officer.
I am the slave of Maximin; if thou
Hast any other name, it is a worse one,
Rebel, proud Roman!

Æmilius.
Thou'rt protected, slave!
Thy character is sacred; else—Barbarian!
Return to Maximin, the terms I sent
By Varus I adhere to, and expect
Another answer, by a gentler herald.

Cornelia.
Thou art no Roman. Wilt thou deign to tell
Thy name and country?

Officer.
Dumnorix my name,
My country Gaul.

Cornelia.
And of Ligurian race,
Chief of the band Pretorian, art thou not?

Officer.
I am, and faithful to the prince I serve.

Cornelia.
Faithful to evil, false to all that's good!
To nature and humanity a traitor;
Contriver of the murder of my children!
My soul by strong antipathy divin'd thee,
And shudder'd at thee as her evil genius.

Æmilius.
Cornelia, beware, thou wrong'st thyself,
Thus to expose to him thy wounded heart.

Officer.
Varus, your countryman, hath told you, Lady!
What counsel I suggested to my prince.
This I expected from a Roman messenger,
Whose treachery his master soon shall know,
He told you true. From me the counsel came;
I thought the dames of Rome had lov'd their children.

[Exit Dumnorix.
Cornelia.
Oh! my husband! What remedy, what hope!

Æmilius.
In Varus still I trust. The troops of Rome
Are near at hand. That insolent Ligurian
Hath chaf'd me to the height. O! awful Rome!
Where are thy honours? Queen of all the earth!
How art thou fallen! When a vile slave like this,
Insults thy consul, and decrees the doom
Of thy Patrician race! If this must be,
'Tis time to die; we all have liv'd too long.

Cornelia.
I felt the insult, but my feeble anger
Blaz'd for a moment only. Other passions
Soon quench'd my indignation. O! my children!

Enter an Officer.
Officer.
To arms, my lord! The enemy comes on.

Æmilius.
We are prepar'd, for Maximin is known.
I look'd for this attack. Against what gate
Bend they their force?

Officer.
They threaten every gate;
For all their legions move. Distinct I saw
Three mighty columns shoaling to the plain,
And in their front are carriages advanc'd
Loaded with beams and rafters, fit to frame
Some engine strong, against our batter'd walls.

Æmilius.
Be not afraid.
[To Cornelia.]
[A shout.]
What means that fearful cry?

Cornelia.
A cry! it was a groan, a dreadful groan,
As if a multitude, a legion died.

Æmilius.
Farewel!

Cornelia.
My lord, one moment stay, behold!

Enter Lucius.
Æmilius.
From whence that dismal cry?

Officer.
Alas! alas!
It was the people's voice, the soldiers voice,
Lamenting for your sons.

Cornelia.
Already! heaven!

Æmilius.
Say, what has befallen?

Officer.
Still, my lord, they live;
But on the verge of death the brothers stand.

Cornelia.
Still they live!

Æmilius.
Uninterrupted now relate,
Without a comment, what thy eyes have seen.

Officer.
The host of Maximin for fight array'd,
In three huge columns onward slowly mov'd,
And when their van had reach'd the little hill,
From whence the fountain springs, fast by the wall
The army halted: then appear'd a band,
Busy artificers, who rear'd in haste,
A pile we wonder'd at; but soon was chang'd
Our wonder into sorrow, when we knew
It was a scaffold; and beheld your sons,
Guarded and bound, draw near. That spectacle
Produc'd the cry.

Cornelia.
O! insupportable!
My lord! my husband! oh!

Æmilius.
Matron, retire,
And hide thy anguish from the common eye.

Cornelia.
Ha! Whither dost thou go?

Æmilius.
Streight to the gate.

Cornelia.
Where thou art, I will be. I cannot leave thee,
Have mercy upon me, your sons, yourself,
And to necessity a little yield;
Intreat a short delay, new terms propound,
Let not your children die.

Æmilius.
Think'st thou thy sons
Will chuse a life, bought by their father's shame?
If right my soul divines of both my boys,
What they dread most this instant, is to live,
Redeem'd inglorious with my honour lost.

Cornelia.
I am encompassed; on a pointed rock
I stand, a dreadful gulph on either side.

Æmilius.
The time is not expir'd; some hours the sun
Hath yet to fall; this awful preparation
Is meant to terrify and shake my soul,
That I may bow before the next demand.
Go to the palace, when a message comes
From the fell tyrant, thou shalt hear it answered.

Cornelia.
Deal not, my lord, deceitfully with me.
I have a right, a mother's right.

Æmilius.
Be calm,
Let me conjure thee by the sacred names
Of thy great ancestors, who died for Rome,
Remember them, and prove thyself their daughter.
[Exit Æmilius.

Cornelia
alone.
My ancestors! alas! ill-omen'd names!
Ye shades of heroes, o'er the world renown'd
For virtue, and for great misfortunes fam'd!
Why should I think of you, but to confirm
The dire presage that rises from my heart?
Your matchless worth exempted not from ills,
But was the cause recorded of your ruin.
Sprung from your blood, I fear that I am born
Heir to the fortunes of the fated line.
[Exit Cornelia.