University of Virginia Library

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!—