University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Favonius enters, and kneels to Valerius.
Valer.
Junius Favonius Cimbrius, welcome, welcome!—
Brave son of Rome, the glory of thy country,
And pride of the Valerii, welcome!
[Raises, and embraces him.
Off—
And let me view thee—let me feast my eyes,
Long famish'd by the absence of my child—
My laurel'd boy! I swear it by the gods,
When first thy mother prest thee to her bosom,
Her looks dwelt not upon thee with a smile
Of equal tenderness, of equal transport!

Favon.
O, sir!
Oppress me not with this excess of goodness.
Be it enough that I have done my duty;
And dared, in some degree, to emulate
My father's great example!

Valer.
O, thou art
The fullness of thy father's every wish;
All that wide craving avarice could ask,
Or high ambition sigh for! therefore 'tis
That, by ensuring of my child's prosperity,
I shall ensure my own.

Favon.
What means my Lord?

Valer.
'Tis meet that, after such a length of studies,
Of toilsome travels, camps, and harsh encounters,
My son should taste enjoyment: I have, therefore,
Provided for your happiness—Prepare
For Hymen's highest blessings!

Favon.
What, for marriage?

Valer.
Yes.

Favon.
Surely I have not understood my father.—
Contracted, mean you, sir?

Valer.
Yes, to Rome's fairest, chastest, richest heiress—
For so I have ordain'd it.

Favon.
I am my father's image, not a thing
To barter at a market.

Valer.
Loth I am,
Amidst his laurels, to remind a conqueror—
That he, too, is my property.

Favon.
Yes—well,
Too well I know, what the rude laws of Rome
Enjoin—My body, sir, I grant is your's
For death or bondage—but I have been in Greece,
Tutor'd amid the schools of liberty;
And thence I learn, that I have here, within,
A principle of freedom, over which
No father has a right to assume controul!

Valer.
Rash and misdeeming boy!—But I'll be calm—
Presume not yet upon a father's fondness!—
Dost thou then think, that young and headstrong passion,
To interest blind, and ever prone to error,
Can judge, and plan, and build for happiness,
Like old and tried experience?

Favon.
Can experience,
Can age pronounce on what will constitute
The happiness of Cimbrius?

Valer.
Yes, assuredly—
And if the gods have given him sense, or sight,
The smallest share of rational discernment,
He cannot but exult in my election,

Favon.
Alas, my father, there are cases, surely,
Wherein not reason's self can arbitrate
Between the sexes—the soul-linking union,
The tender, the involuntary feelings,
The commerce of free hearts!

Valer.
'Tis, therefore, needful,
That such impetuous, wayward, idle passion,
Should be subjected to the guiding rein
Of age and just authority.—But here,
There is no quailing—I have seal'd my promise—
My honour is at stake, and must be ransom'd.

Favon.
Say you, my lord?—must I, to ransom yours,
Betray my own? must I turn prostitute,
Yield up my body unto loath'd embraces;
And the free choice of my immortal spirit,
To bondage worse than death?—O, think not of it!—
Nature, sense, reason, duty, piety,
The gods forbid!

Valer.
Is this your answer, rebel?

Favon.
O, sir, my honour'd father! would to Heaven,
[Bends the knee, and kisses his hand.
I might obey you—but, alas, this matter
Is not at my own option—Can I give
That heart, those inclinations, to another,
Which I, myself, cannot command? yet, sir,
In all I can, I live but to oblige you.
Who is this lady, by whose fair conveyance,
You have chosen to deliver, to posterity,
The honours of your name?

Valer.
She is the daughter of the noble Fabius.

Favon.
Of Fabius, sir—of Fabius?

Valer.
Yes.—Dost thou
Know aught of Fabius?

Favon.
By report, my lord,
Much to his honour—to his daughter's too,
Touching her high pre-eminence in beauty,
And every mental excellence.

Valer.
'Tis well—
He comes.