University of Virginia Library

SCENE XII.

A Number of Women from the Castle, and after them Veleda, in pensive Silence; her Hands strained to her Bosom, and her Eyes fixed on her Womb.
Segestes.
Lo! Veleda!
You there behold my daughter.

Cæcina.
There I see
In that fair form, in that majestic mien,
Each blooming grace, and dignity of mind.

Segestes.
She was my only joy, my best delight,
My lov'd Veleda, till with treach'rous arts
Arminius stole her from her father's arms.

Cæcina.
Afflicted fair! why does that cloud of sorrow
Obscure those eyes, and bend you to the earth,
Like some fair flower beneath the beating rain
That droops its languid head? Dispell your grief,
And let those eyes no more be dimn'd with tears.

Veleda.
Tears have forgot to flow; their source is dry.
Despair is now the portion of a wretch,
Whom you have robb'd of all her soul holds dear.

Cæcina.
Why charge my conduct?

Veleda.
Wedded to Arminius,
Why am I sever'd from him?

Cæcina.
That, you know,
Was by your father's order.

Veleda.
Even now
I bear the fruit of our connubial loves.
And must my infant, must my blameless child
Be born in slavery?

Cæcina.
Germanicus
Will soon be here: The virtues of the Prince,
His tender sympathy, his social love
Will soften all your cares, and give you comfort.

Veleda.
Think you a heart like mine, a German heart,
That without liberty deems life a burthen,
Think you a mind so form'd will bear to live
A day, an hour in execrable bondage?
Is that the comfort Rome affords the wretched?

Cæcina.
Ungen'rous thought! for you a safe retreat
Shall be assign'd in the delightful clime
Of Italy, where grief and busy care
No more shall cloud the sunshine of your days.

Veleda.
And can the charms of luxury and vice,
Can warmer suns, and soft Italian seasons
Lull to repose a mind upon the rack?
Infuse a base oblivion of my friends,
And my lost husband? In our boisterous clime
Fair liberty can soften all our cares
'Midst forests, rocks, and fens, and hills of ice,
It is our sun: It gilds the horizon round.

Cæcina.
[To Segestes.
I see the spirit of Arminius
Not of her father, kindles in her breast,
And thus inflames a weak deluded mind.
Veleda, hear me.

Veleda.
Must I hence be dragg'd
A wretched captive, with my babe unborn,
Far from my native land? And do you Romans
Unsheathe your swords to triumph o'er a woman?
Do you wage war with infants in the womb?

Cæcina.
Speak your request.

Veleda.
Restore me to my husband.

Cæcina.
Segestes, Speak your will.

Segestes.
'Tis yours to judge;
Yours to decide, which has the strongest claim
Her husband, or her father. She is the wife
Of fierce Arminius, and she sprung from me.

Cæcina.
Since sprung from you, she merits gentle treatment:
Arminius will be struck with Roman virtue.
Veleda, you are free; a chosen band
In safety shall conduct you to your friends.

[Exit with Officers, &c.