University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Julia and Attendants enter.
Julia.
Who calls?—How's this!—my daughter dying?
O, my lost child!—Fly, all of you—bring odours,
Physicians bring—away, search Rome for medicine!—
Help—raise her to the air!—Speak to me, child!
Look up, my love!—speak, speak to your fond mother,
And snatch her from distraction!

As Lavinia is busy in affording help, Valeria turns from her, and waves her hand in token that she should be gone.
Julia.
Lavinia, go!

[Lavinia withdraws.
Valeria.
I think, I now am more at ease—But, still,
My heart! my heart!—
Dear mother of a wretched child, direct
That we be left alone!—

Julia.
Depart this moment!—
[Exeunt Attendants.
Now tell me; ease my throbbings!

Valeria.
Yes, when tears—
When tears permit me.

Julia.
Ah, my only loved!
What mean these gushing floods, these deep fetch'd sobs—
This passion, that has seized thy tender frame
With rending agitation?

Valeria.
O, Favonius!

Julia.
What, has he dared to treat my child with insult?

Valeria.
No, my fond mother!—Soon as you had left us,
His looks, his accents, actions, all were framed
To gentleness—to pity, so like love,
It seem'd, indeed, the dawn of young affection!
While time was thus suspended in sweet doubt,
Lavinia would have past us—at the view
Favonius started!—his collected spirits
Stream'd from his eager eyes—he addrest her,
In terms so soft, of such endearing rapture—

Julia.
What, at first sight?

Valeria.
Yes—but I soon remark'd,
That they were far from strangers to each other;
While, wrapt in fond and mutual gratulations,
They saw not me, and the entranced Favonius,
Had eyes for her alone—'Tis sure, too sure,
This was not their first interview—perhaps,
Long known—and O, perhaps, already join'd!

Julia.
Sayst thou?—the mighty heir of the Valerii,
The greatest, wealthiest, first hope of Rome,
Espouse himself to scorn, to beggary—
A thing without a name—and thus pollute
The long ennobled stream of our forefathers?
He cannot, shall not!—But I'll rid your sight
Of this plebeian sorceress—sweep her forth
To seek a hungry living on the Dole,
From whence the folly of old Fabius rais'd her.

Valeria.
O mother, why contract me to a stranger?
Would he had been a stranger still!—that I
Had never heard the name, or learn'd the praise,
Or seen the face of this renown'd Favonius!
Ere I beheld him, I had form'd his image
Tender, and kind, and grateful to my wishes—
But, when the light of this day's sun arose
To usher in his triumph—when the shouts
Of distant multitudes all-hail'd his name,
And near, and nearer still, approached mine ear
With swelling acclamations, that proclaimed
The hero was at hand—my pulse beat high;
Through my strain'd eyes my soul went forth to meet him:
And as he came, all glorious in the spoils
Of conquered nations,
His youthful brow laurel'd like fire-eyed Mars,
And his fair form conducted by the Graces;
My heart avow'd his fetters, and attended
The surest captive of his train!