University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Temple of Jupiter. Titus with Guards, Lictors, &c.—Publius with several Senators and the Deputies of the subject Provinces bringing the accustomed Tribute. Sextus and Annius come forward from the opposite sides, among the rest Lentulus.
Publius.
O Father of thy country! thus the senate
With general voice salute their emperor,
Nor ever did their awful rolls contain,
A vote more just, a title so deserv'd.

Annius.
O Titus! not alone thy country's father,
She deems thee more, her guardian deity.
As such decrees thee temples, and hereafter
Means as a god to invoke thy sacred name.

Publius.
This annual tribute of the subject states
To that great work she dedicates, and prays
Thy kind acceptance of the offer'd homage.

Lent.
Now the God speaks, and now for oracles,
[Aside
But thy celestial panoply shall yield
To one good stroke from this poor mortal arm.

Titus.
Hear me ye Romans! to deserve your love
Is the first wish that animates my breast,
Let not that love exceed its modest bounds
To stain the emperor's cheek and yours with blushes.
How wou'd the eternal movers of the world
Smile to behold my puny godhead shake
When the North's icy arrows search'd my breast,
Or, while my altars smoked with sacrifice,
(Shou'd fevers riot in my burning veins,)
To hear my prostrate deity implore
Some friendly hand to moisten my parch'd lip,
To extend a little Tiber in a cup,
And comfort immortality with water?

Annius.
Thus greatly to deserve, and greater still,
Decline the tribute of your subjects praise,
Casts deeper shame on their preposterous zeal
Who lavish'd on imperial Tyranny,
And monsters, miscall'd men, the praise of gods.

Titus.
I not reject the offerings of your love,
But wou'd apply them to a worthier purpose.
Vesuvius' late eruption has laid waste
(Tremendous visitation) the fair country.
(A prodigy reserv'd for this ill time
That loudly warns for some new expiation,)
The neighbouring cities lye one cumbrous mass
Of hideous ruin. Whom the fiery wave
Spared to destroy, pale Famine now devours.
This gold may bring relief to misery.
These be my temples, thus be Titus worship'd.

Publius.
Such temples are indeed more durable
Than pyramids whose proud tops pierce the sky,
No storm can shake them, nor no time destroy.
Their altars rise in every virtuous breast,
And their rich incense is the o'erflowing heart.

Titus.
Enough, enough—I would be private friends.
Annius stay thou. Approach, come near my Sextus.

[Exeunt Publius and others.
Titus, Sextus, Annius.
Annius.
Now Sextus warmly urge my dearest interest.

Sextus.
Ah Sir! I dread to speak—your Berenice.—

Titus.
Oh spare me, spare me. 'Twas a painful struggle.
Rome and the emperor saw with different eyes,
Rome, that she was a stranger and a queen,
And I, her truth and beauty.

Sextus.
Yet she left you.

Titus.
Reluctantly alas, as I endured it.
The senate press'd me long to native nuptials,
I interposed as long with feign'd delays.
While one dear image, mistress of my soul,
In silent soft security reign'd there,
To dictate all which caution seem'd to utter.

Sextus.
'Twas most unjust and cruel so to urge you.

Titus.
The chambers next to these were once the queen's,
Nor eye nor foot but mine shall visit them
Since she forsakes them. There I'll give my soul
Its burst of anguish, there I'll hear her voice,
There her enchanting form shall smile before me
In all her soft luxuriancy of beauty.
The lute she touch'd, the flowers her needle painted
Now mute or scatter'd as she cast them from her,
Remind me of the dear delicious hours
When my enamour'd heart spoke out, and own'd her.
Thy master there will be no emperor.

Sextus.
Yet in the senate be an emperor.
The name of queen we know is alien to them,
(Such is the force of rooted prejudice,)
Tho' in the imperial title they endure
More subjugation than Rome's seven kings,
Had all been Tarquins, cou'd impose upon them,
They tremble at the shade, but hug the substance.

Titus.
I rule their will, but can't remove their error.
Fatal to my repose, or shade or substance.
A prey to cankerous regret within,
I strive against the feeling which consumes me,
My reason disesteems my heart's desire,
Condemns the choice, and yet adores the object.

Sextus.
Thus princes are but subjects to opinion.

Titus.
New importunity each hour assails me
To fix the sceptre in the Flavian line,
And with some daughter of Patrician blood
To share the imperial purple. Warm esteem
Since Rome will have me wived, with calmer fires
Must light the torch of Hymen. This my Sextus
Pleads for thy sister most, dear by that tie,
And in herself unrival'd.

Sextus.
How, my sister,
Cornelia Sir!

Titus.
Cornelia.

Annius.
Dire election!

[Aside.
Titus.
Thou Annius! bear my greetings to Cornelia.
The senate have my promise, ere the sun
Sunk in his western tent, their new Augusta
Shou'd be proclaim'd. So tell them of my choice.
My heart can form no new engagement Sextus!
To loose the bonds of friendship. Names alone
The emperor and the subject must not weaken
Strict amity like ours.

Sextus.
Oh Sir! consider.
An humbler lot will suit my sister's fortune,
Besides your bounties shower'd upon our house
Wiil fall in envious curses on my head,
And sink my name, but to exalt your error.

Titus.
Let Rome be envious, not thy prince unjust.
The friend adopted thus, holds not his place
By the light tenure of the popular breath,
But by my weigh'd selection.

Sextus.
'Tis too much.
Stop this profusion of unbounded goodness,
Unless you mean to swell the mighty debt
Beyond my power to thank you, lest you turn
The feelings of a heart, that knows its frailty,
To undeserving and ingratitude.

Titus.
I cannot taste a rough unsocial joy,
Nor trust me wou'd it stir my blood one jot,
Tho' at my nod the necks of Rome shou'd bow
Like willows to the wind. One good man's thanks,
The warm effusions of a soul obliged
To me are more than all the pageantry,
My heart partakes not, tho' my power commands.

[Exeunt Titus and Sextus.
Annius,
alone.
Curs'd be my fortune, curs'd the medling senate,
That in the blindness of their busy zeal
Thus goad him to my ruin. Slavish drones!
That buzzing search their musty registers
To find some record of past turpitude,
A sanction for the meditated shame,
An earlier precedent of ignominy,
Then dawb their volume with some worse disgrace,
Some fouler stain of manhood's dignity,
And call the enrollment sacred.—Yet why curse them,
Hence from my breast this selfish vile alloy
Debasing genuine passion. Let her glory
Be now thy mistress. Bow to that my soul,
And worship her at distance. Yet 'tis hard,
To cast away affection like a garment,
To tame young blood by cold necessity,
And love! for thy untutor'd fervency,
To learn the icy lesson of respect.
But see she comes.—Oh never did my eyes
Behold her half so beauteous as this moment.
A dear thing lost thus puts forth all its value.

To him Cornelia.
Cornelia.
My Annius!

Annius.
Soft Cornelia, 'tis a crime
To use endearments now.

Cornelia.
A crime! amazement!

Annius.
Yes a most dangerous crime, a new made crime,
A crime within this hour, no less than treason.
Know thou art destin'd to ascend the throne
Of Rome's great master.—Can I utter it!
Thou art his choice, the empress of Cæsar.
And, would'st thou think it, he to me assign'd
The barbarous task as such to greet thee for him.

[Going.
Cornelia.
The empress of Cæsar! which way, wherefore!

Annius.
Because my destiny but toil'd to plague me,
Because thy virtues, beauty were too bright
To bless these humble arms—farewell for ever.
I could but give a heart, and he the world.
Oh I shall grow disloyal if I gaze,
And curse the man, my duty bids me honour.
[Exit Annius.

Cornelia
alone.
Me Cæsar's empress! Can that name alone
Turn oaths to air, and melt the soul's affections,
And can the generous Titus.—No I wrong him.
He knows not our engagements. He's too good,
Too gentle, thus with tyrannous violence
Rudely to seize involuntary vows,
And force by power what's due alone to love.
[Exit Cornelia.

Scene—An Apartment in the Palace.
Titus meeting Publius who holds a Paper.
[Shouts heard.
Titus.
Whence this rude dissonance, whose barbarous roar
Shakes to the centre these tall battlements?

Publius.
Loud as a stormy sea the people rush
Promiscuous to the temples, and with shouts
Deaf'ning the sky, implore the gods to guard you.

Titus.
Such clamorous prayers are impiety.
They do instruct the gods, and not adore them.
There is more worship in one contrite sigh
Breath'd from the breast of humble penitence,
Than in whole hecatombs and clouds of incence.
If heaven will grant me length of days, 'tis well,
But the last blessing I should beg from heaven.

Publius.
'Tis the wan cast of transient melancholy,
A momentary shade that comes and passes,
Can make great Titus speak thus to his Romans.

Titus.
Survey man's little state thro' every age,
And tell me, wherefore shou'd we fear to change it?
When children all our wishes gape at manhood,
And that arriv'd, we sigh to recollect
The lively blossom of our greener years,
Swearing our school days were the happiest.
Then frowns Ambition's strife, and Disappointment,
Or Friendship's brow estranged, or luckless love,
Unbless'd thus in the past or present hour,
No centre fix'd for fleeting happiness,
Old age creeps joyless on, with envious step
Stealing us further from each sweet remembrance,
Till all that minister'd our brief delight,
Whether from pamper'd sense, or flattering hope,
Lies buried in that mouldering monument.
Is that for my inspection?

[The paper held by Publius.
Publius.
It contains,
The names of those rash citizens who dared
With calumny licentious to traduce
The fame of our great emperors before you.

Titus.
A barbarous register, which nought avails
To the departed, and administers
Unnumber'd wiles for treachery and fraud
To ensnare the living, so henceforth remember
(To pluck the root up of this dangerous evil)
The informer, not the accused shall meet my wrath.

Publius.
Yet Sir, it is but just.

Titus.
Were justice urged
To rigor's iron verge, the peopled earth
Would swarm with herds, not men. For who has found
In frail humanity the faultless monster?
Guilt steels itself, and hardens in society,
Besides, 'tis dangerous trust me to divulge
The world contains so little virtue, Publius!

Publius.
But Sir, there are, who with foul breath will dare
Even to traduce your name.

Titus.
To them, Cornelia.

Cornelia.
Suspend a while that title. Hear me first.
A secret presses on this anxious breast
To you, and only you, I can discover.

Titus.
Publius farewell! now freely speak Cornelia!

[Exit Publius.
Cornelia.
That you have deign'd from all the maids of Rome
To chuse Cornelia to partake your throne,
O emperor! I own the bright distinction.
Deem'd worthy of thy choice, my conscious soul
Rises in self esteem; this prompts my tongue
To trust thy goodness, to conceal no thought
Whose reservation might upbraid my weakness
With mean suspicion of thy matchless justice.

Titus.
Speak, freely speak!

Cornelia.
First, let me swear, there lives not,
Who more than I do, venerates thy name,
And owns thy wond'rous virtue. Yet my heart—
I fear to move your anger.—

Titus.
Pray go on.

Cornelia.
It is not mine to give. An early flame,
Felt ere I knew to name it, burn'd for Annius.
If so you will accept my hand,—'tis yours.

Titus.
Perish so base a thought! for once I see,
(Rare sight for kings) the visage of bright truth
Unmask'd and genuine. Thou hast nobly ventur'd,
Even when it might offend the emperor
To show her undisguis'd. My best Cornelia!
How much am I thy debtor. Cou'dst thou fear
I wou'd disturb your loves.

Cornelia.
[bursting into tears]
I knew you wou'd not.
If lost in admiration of thy goodness,
My words but poorly thank you, O believe it;
Too big for speech my swelling gratitude
Beggars the weak expression of my tongue,
Most thankful, when most silent.

Titus.
Dear Cornelia!
Wou'dst thou indeed be grateful, teach to others
Sincerity like thine. Bid wholesome Truth,
(Coy visitant of courts) return secure.
Even in her homeliest garb she shall be welcome,
More welcome than the practised harlot smiles,
The ambush'd lie of guileful flattery.
Soft are her blandishments, the vizor fair,
But underneath,—oh how unlike the varnish!
[Exit Titus.

To Cornelia, Vitellia.
Vitellia.
May I without offence presume to offer
My early homage to my sovereign?
May I adore that beauty, whose bright beams
Thus shine superior with unrival'd radiance,
And charm the soul of Titus. Roman ladies
Tho' paragons before, must humbly seek
Espousals in the senate, must submit
To match with prætors, or poor deputies,
And leave the only Cæsar for Cornelia.
But one can be Augusta.

Cornelia.
Insolent!
[Aside.
But let her be deceiv'd. Such scorn deserves it.
Farewell Vitellia!

[Going.
Vitellia.
This disdain becomes you.
Once we at least were equal. Time has been,
Tho' now the giddy wheel's fantastic round
Has whirl'd thee highest, that Rome's proudest she,
Even Sextus' sister, even the elect of Titus,
Had statue-like stood still at my command,
And blush'd obedience to the emperor's daughter.

Cornelia.
Enraptured with the sense of boundless joy
My transports might seem insult—let me fly,
From that stern brow, where smiles and love await me.
[Exit Cornelia.

Vitellia,
alone.
Must I endure it, bear with tame submission
This contumelious superiority?
With what disdain the haughty minion eyed me.
May their false Hymen wave Alecto's torch
To scatter discord, hate, and barrenness,
May furies yell around their nuptial couch,
And Jove's red lightning in the embrace consume them.
Yawn gaping hell, ingulf them from my sight,
To hide in Tartarus the bliss that blasts me.
Tremble ingrate! tremble at my rous'd fury,
Thy blood this very hour.—

To her, Sextus.
Sextus.
I joy to meet thee.
My sun but rises to renew that hope,
And his sloped beam that dims the shadowy world
Takes nothing but thy beauty from my sight,
To sadden his decline.—

Vitellia.
Is Rome on fire?
The capitol in ashes? Where is Lentulus?
Does Titus bleed, say is the tyrant dead?

Sextus.
Suspension of the deed you last commanded.

Vitellia.
The deed suspended! yet dar'st thou presume
Thus boldly to approach me, thus to greet me
As if secure thy presence wou'd be welcome?

Sextus.
I heard no revocation of the order.

Vitellia.
Hast thou not heard the insult of this hour,
Cruel, unparalleled, and dost thou wait
A signal less equivocal? Oh fool!
To take him for a lover, who thus poorly
Can know my wrongs, nor think they cry for vengeance.

Sextus.
Oh cou'd I find a single specious cause
To varnish o'er the act.—

Vitellia.
A single cause!
I'll give thee thousands. One for ev'ry impulse
That can excite a noble mind to daring.
Does freedom charm thee? tear away the shackles
That clank at the degraded senate's heels,
And rise the Brutus of these servile times.
Does bright ambition fire thee? open lies
The broad strait road to empire. All my train,
My friends, my title to the imperial rule,
All shall be thine. Say can my hand, my heart,
Crown thy desires, fly to the enterprise,
Let me behold thee crimson'd in the blood
Of this perfidious, to my arms I'll clasp thee
With fervor Juno like. Is't not enough,
Can'st thou still hesitate? know then till now
I lov'd this Titus—Still I may return,
(I dare not trust my heart) again to love him.
Now fly. If thou can'st poorly shrink, insensible
To all the charms of glory, empire, love,
If thou can'st bear a rival who disputes,
Usurps and violates Vitellia's heart,
Thou art the last, the meanest of mankind.

Sextus.
O thou hast found the way to rouse my fury.
Love and a rival both shall justify.
I feel thy rage infused. Yes thou shalt see
Yon stately pile, yon capitol in flames.
This sword shall blush with rich imperial blood.
My own runs back, and curdles at the thought.

Vitellia.
Doubt but a moment, and no more behold me.

Sextus.
Then vanish doubt. And may thy scorn repay me
And aggravate my shame, if I obey not.
[Exit Sextus.

Vitellia
alone.
Yes Titus thou shalt feel me, feel too late
The power of this despised, rejected beauty.
Too late shalt thou repent—

To her, Publius.
Publius.
Princess your pardon.
My tidings will I hope excuse the intrusion,
For sure they should be welcome. Thro' the palace
The emperor seeks you, madam!

Vitellia.
Seeks me Publius!
Not so, not so.—Why should he seek Vitellia?

Publius.
Can it be possible you know not why?
To make you partner of his throne and greatness.

Vitellia.
What have I done, that thou shou'd'st dare to mock me?

Publius.
To mock you lady! by my life I swear
He bad me in his name salute you empress.

Vitellia.
Cornelia but this hour.—

Publius.
This too I know,
Cornelia has declined his offer'd hand.
His faith was pledg'd (and that's inviolable)
By solemn deputation to the senate,
This day to name his empress, and th'election
Lights worthily on you. Fear of Domitian,
His successor in power tho' not in virtue,
Shou'd our good Titus childless seek the skies,
With ghastly hue makes pale the senate's cheek,
Turns all the nectar of their bowls to gall,
And sickens worse than surfeits.

Vitellia.
Oh distraction!
Lose not a moment—fly, begone, and find him!

Publius.
Whom madam?

Vitellia.
Sextus. Oh thou loiterer!

Publius.
What message must I bear?

Vitellia.
Bid him return.
On all the wings of wind return, and meet me.
Be speedy Publius, to my chamber send him,
For more than life hangs on each precious moment.

[Exeunt.