University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

A Prison.
Valeria and Jailor enter.
Jail.
Soon as your uncle, lady, knows this trespass,
My head must pay the forfeit.

Valeria.
Fear it not—
I will remain your prisoner in his place,
And answer, head for head!—This, with my thanks.

[Gives a purse.

SCENE II.

The Jailor opens the back scene, and discovers Favonius asleep, in irons, and stretched on straw.
Valeria.
O hero!—is it here that thou reposest
After the toils of battle?—Faithless Rome!
How oft are dungeons, banishment, or death,
The portion of thy bravest patriots,
And bonds the lot of those who bring thee freedom!
He sleeps!—A virtue like to his, finds peace
In chains and darkness.—To your office, hands!
To your blest office!
[Kneels and unbinds Favonius.
Ah, what hand or heart
Could fasten shackles on these limbs?

Favon.
Who's there?

Valeria.
A friend!—
A hapless, tho' a very tender friend,
To Lord Favonius!

Favon.
Do I dream?—Valeria!
What would thy softness with these midnight horrors?—
This is no place—

Valeria.
It is, it is a palace,
For Cimbrius is in it!

Favon.
Hast thou learn'd
Aught of Lavinia, my fair cousin?

Valeria.
Therefore,
'Tis therefore I am come.

Favon.
Ah! what of her?—

Valeria.
Inhumed, imprison'd, darker, deeper far,
Than thou art!

Favon.
O stern father of the fiends!

Valeria.
Haste, then—your chains are loosed—the gates are open—
Away to the relief of your beloved!
Force up the iron gate of living burial,
And bear your bride far hence!—Rome is no place
No seat for love or virtue like to that
Of Cimbrius and Lavinia!

Favon.
Let me gaze!—
Is it Valeria, then, who would unite
Favonius to Lavinia?

Valeria.
Yes two they—
Make my whole wealth, my sum of joy on earth!—
If I do know my heart aright, I think,
When they are bless'd, I cannot be unhappy!

Favon.
Virtue, Virtue,
Thou art female—man knows nothing of thee!—
O maid beloved, adored, dear to my heart!
Dearer than life, or aught, save my Lavinia!
Too vast the weight of this superior greatness!—
Till we do meet again in peace—farewell!

[Embrace.
Valeria.
Perhaps, for ever!—O, farewell for ever!

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.

Near the Cavern.
Fabius and Terentia enter.
Fab.
Come, my sad sister!—It is, surely, here—
Or near this spot!—The heart would fain approach
Where lodge its treasures!—It was said of old,
That ghosts thus haunt our charnels—and beneath
The doubtful glimpses of the dreary moon,
Oft glance athwart, or hover round the place
Where their pale bodies lie!

Teren.
O Fabius, Fabius!
Are ours the only heads, on which the gods
Should pour forth all their vengeance?

Fab.
No, Terentia!
'Tis the known lot of life—the brightest day
Of frail mortality must pass in clouds,
And sink in everlasting night!

Teren.
But O,
Our rose of Latium's garden, that dispensed
Nothing but sweets around!—in what could she
Offend the gods, that they should tear so sudden
Her fragrance from the root?

Fab.
O, the fell Pontiff! the stern wretch, Valerius!
I only hold in life till I have vengeance.—

Teren.
Hark! what groan was that?—Again!—
Do you not hear it?—

Fab.
No—'tis fancy!

Teren.
List!—
Methought it were the accent of Lavinia,
Mournfully musical!

Fab.
Do you not hear
A distant trampling?—Nearer, now!

Teren.
Yes, as of many feet.

Fab.
What can it mean?—at this dead hour!—They come!—
Let us retire, and mark them.

[Exeunt Fabius and Terentia.

SCENE IV.

Valerius enters with his Followers, some bearing levers and a ladder.
Valer.
The chariot, and your horses—
Are they in readiness?

Serv.
They are, my Lord!

Valer.
Go some of you, and raise the ponderous cover!
That done, let down the steps, and wait my coming!
[Part of the Attendants go out with the ladder and levers.
Lucius and Servius, now mark my orders!—
Soon as the lady is restored to light,
With all due reverence and observant tenderness,
Convey her to the chariot—then take horse,
With your attendants, and pass gently onwards
To the Flaminian gate—thence on with speed,
Till you have reached my fortress on the frontier,
Where I will meet you.

Lucius.
In every point, my Lord,
We shall be most observant.

Valer.
Ha!—what lights are yon?—
And at this hour?

Serv.
They seem, my Lord, to bend
This way, and with a numerous company.

Valer.
Curs'd chance!—I would not, for ten provinces,
Be noted in this business—Retire awhile,
Till they have pass'd!—
Amazement!—stop—Favonius,
Favonius in the van!—his fetters off!
And is it thus that he would triumph o'er me?
No, he shall perish, first!—Lavinia, too,
Back to her durance!—Cataline, Sempronius,
Fly several ways!—my guards, the city force,
The nightly watches too, collect them instantly,
And bring them on embattled!—Haste, away!—
I wait you in yon portico!

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The Cavern.
Favonius enters with Officers, and Soldiers bearing torches.
Favon.
Thanks, thanks, my valiant friends!—success, or death,
In one short hour, shall now decide upon
The fate of your Favonius.

Officer.
Throughout life,
Or unto instant death, lead on, loved Chief!—
We follow to partake your fortunes!—

Favon.
Ha!—
What's here?—the gate of living sepulture
Already open'd!—O my heart, my heart!
'Tis the first time thy firmness hath forsook thee!—
My Drusus, take a taper!—A quick impotence
Is come upon me!—lend your arm, Aurelius!—
Drusus, descend the steps!—Murder'd, perhaps,
Or spirited away!—To this event,
Alas, I was not arm'd—my fortitude
Is here enfeebled, as the spiry reed
Before the sudden blast!—Ho! Drusus, ho!—
Tidings of life, or death?—

Drus.
Of life, my general!—

Favon.
O gods!—

[Favonius falls back some steps.
Lavin.
Do I once more behold the light?—
[Lavinia appears.
Favonius!

Favon.
Lavinia!

[They rush to each others arms, and embrace for some time in silence.
Lavin.
Blest spirit of my heart!
Do I revive to thee?—Ay, that, indeed,
That is to live to happiness, to rapture!

Favon.
Now, as the gods are good, I do not know
If that they rightly have assured my senses,
To bear this blessedness!—The tide of blood
That lately sunk my heart, now pours abroad
In such a torrent, as is like to bear
My very frame before it!—O Lavinia!
Speak to me, Love! relieve me from my doubts
Of the transcendency of such a joy,
As never was the lot of mortal!—say,
Do I indeed then see thee, hear thee, hold thee?—
Lavinia, art thou, at the last, all mine?—

Lavin.
In heart and soul—
My every thought is thine, as circling spokes
Girt to their center!

Favon.
Then I will believe
The blest reality—and give, to Heaven,
Oblations manifold!

Lavin.
But are there, yet,
No further trials—no withstanding fathers,
No ruthless Pontiffs, to reverse these blessings?

Favon.
No, no, my treasure!—by kind Heaven's decree,
At length thou art mine, and earth shall never part us!
Fear not; for this time we have been provident—
The gate of the Janiculum lies open
To our escape; my soldiers fill the pass;
And, though all Rome should rise upon the heels
Of my stern father, we do set them all
At broad defiance!—

SCENE VI.

Fabius and Terentia enter.
They stand a while in mute astonishment.
Fab.
My child!

Teren.
My soul's begotten!

Lavin.
O my father!—
[Embrace.
My mother, too—still mother of Lavinia!—
Do we then meet again?—The guardian powers
Are bounteous beyond bearing!

Fab.
O my daughter!
To have thee thus restored, above all hope,
To my enfolding arms, enfolding heart—
It is, as if, upon a second birth,
I clasped thee to my bosom, as the sole
Sole hope of new existence!—Pardon, hero,
Deliverer of thy country!—dearer yet,
Deliverer of the Fabii, in this gem
Of all their opulence!

[Embrace.
Favon.
My lord, my father!—
Henceforth I am a Fabius! I renounce
All other terms of honour or alliance!—
But, sir, 'tis time we part—should this be rumour'd,
Some obstacle may rise; and I would spare
The blood of Romans!—we shall meet again,
I trust, and shortly!—O, my noblest father!
My honour'd mother, too!—till then, farewell!
[Embrace.
Come, Love!—

Lavin.
Stay yet—a little—somewhat checks me!—
The joy, I think, of this extatic meeting—
It has o'erpower'd me!—

Favon.
Ah, your lustre wanes!—
What can this mean?—

Fab.
Alas!—perhaps, my child,
You've taken of that opiate which I gave you.

Lavin.
Not much.—

Fab.
Haste, fly Terentia! bring the antidote—
You'll find it on the left within my cabinet—
A crystal phial squared!—These veteran wounds
Have left me slow of pace!

[Exit Terentia.
Favon.
Your colour comes again!—How fares my blessing?

Lavin.
I feel, as I grew weary—

[She sits—Favonius and Fabius support her on each side, kneeling on one knee.
Fab.
O, that fatal drug!—e'er I had given it,
Would that kind death had closed my miseries!

Lavin.
Not so, my father!
In truth I took but little—I am not pained,
But weak and faintly breathed!—O my Favonius!

Favon.
Mirrour of sweetness!—Ah, with what a force
That eager look has seized upon my heart,
And tears the strings of life!

Lavin.
My love!—my Junius!—
I should be loth to leave you.—Thus to part!—
To leave the world were nothing!

Favon.
Speak not of it!—
The very thought freezes the fount of life,
And shudders through my veins!—

Lavin.
My father, too!—

Fab.
Courage, my Love!—relief will soon arrive.

Lavin.
I doubt—I doubt!—

Fab.
Alas, my child is lost!

Lavin.
Hold—hold me to ye both!—Let me not part ye!—
Yet closer!—
A swimming kind of darkness comes upon me,
And drinks remembrance up!—I go—I go!—
I know not—Oh, farewell!—

[Dies.

SCENE VII.

Fabius sits, Lavinia's head leaning on his lap. Favonius rises, steps back, and stands in fixed, though wild astonishment.—Valerius enters with his party.
Valer.
Dead!—dead, Lavinia!—then our day is done,
And the world's work at stand!—You may retire—
[To his Attendants.
No further way on earth remains to travel!

Favon.
Hush!—
Wake not my Love!—Behold, how sweet she sleeps,
Fann'd by the hovering doves!—and smiles and dreams
Of her Favonius!
How, how is this!—a corse put in her place!
So pale!—so pale and breathless!—
Villain! 'tis thou who hast done this!

[Seizes his Father.
Valer.
Yes, strike!—
It is my wish!—I am ready!

Favon.
Ha!—my father!—
What fiend has arm'd my hand against a father?—
My brain! my brain!—the seat of memory
Quite overthrown!—and yet some cause!—O, now
I recollect—I had, I think, a father!—
Sir, do you know my father?

Valer.
Too well! too well!

Favon.
He was a noble father, had his heart
Been made of aught but iron!—Sure my heart
Is not of iron—for it weeps to think,
He ever had a child!

Valer.
Alas, alas!

Favon.
Wilt bear a message to him?

Valer.
Yes, most faithfully!

Favon.
Bid him not fear—tell him I cannot kill him!—
But some way—some way—he must do me justice!—
He would not let me have a child to sport with—
'Tis then but right, that, in return—thus—thus—
I leave him childless!

[Stabs himself, and falls dead without a groan.
Valer.
O my son, my son!—
Then all is ended!

[Falls.
Fab.
Wretched Valerius! thou art fallen, indeed—
Beneath my vengeance—to compassion fallen!—
O pair of priceless pearls—you two have left
The world to beggary! short was your course,
But swift, and full of virtue!—Lo, vain man,
How thou dost build for happiness!—In clouds,
Thou layest thy corner stone—the pleasing structure
Rises in pride, and promises to lift
Its pinacles to Heaven—then comes a blast,
A sudden blast, and sweeps away the fabric,
With all its builders!—Virtue, Virtue only,
Can out-last frail mortality—can reach
To other worlds—a future life ensure—
And raise, on death, the Pile that stands for ever!