 | Junius Brutus |  |
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ACT I.
SCENE I.
SCENE, A Hall in the Palace of the Consuls, with a Prospect of the Capitol. The Senate are assembled before the Altar of Mars. Brutus and Valerius preside as Consuls. The Senators are ranged in a Semi-circle; and the Lictors, with their proper Ensigns, stand behind.BRUTUS.
Ye brave Assertors of our Country's Freedom;
The Tyrants Scourge; disdaining all Subjection
But to the Gods, and Numa's sacred Laws;
The great Porsenna, Tarquin's Tuscan Friend,
Who covers with his Host the Banks of Tyber,
And scornful threatned to chastise the Romans,
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Dreading the Valour of a free-born People,
He sues to Rome. Cælius, whom he deputes,
Is just arriv'd, and asks immediate Audience.
He waits the Senate's Answer. Fathers, Say,
Shall we reject, or hear his Embassy?
VALERIUS.
However plausible the Terms he offers,
Return him to his Lord without an Audience:
This I declare my Sense. Henceforth let Rome
Disdain to treat but with her vanquish'd Foes.
Your Son, 'tis true, th'Avenger of his Country,
Has twice repuls'd Porsenna's fierce Attacks.
But this is not enough: Rome, still besieg'd,
Beholds the Tuscan Camp spread round her Walls.
Let banish'd Tarquin first retire; and then
We'll weigh the Purport of his Embassy.
Despairing to succeed by open Force,
He now attempts to conquer us by Art.
I view Ambassadors with jealous Eyes:
Cælius is only sent to spy our Weakness,
Or to seduce the Romans from their Duty.
Hear not his soothing Words and subtle Glosses;
Nor lose by Treaties, what you win by Arms!—
Unskill'd in Fraud, O Rome! 'tis thine to fight.—
To aid the just, and root out lawless Kings;
To spare submissive Foes, and quell the Proud;
Be these the Arts t'exalt thy rising Empire!
BRUTUS.
Rome knows, how dear I prize her Liberty;
But tho' my Heart is fill'd with equal Ardour,
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I view this Embassy address'd from Kings,
As the first Homage paid Rome's Citizens.
Let us awhile permit the Pride of Monarchs,
To treat with this Republick as their Equal;
Till, prosper'd by the Gods, ere long we teach 'em,
To own the Sovereign Pow'r of Rome as Vassals.
Cælius, 'tis said, is sent to spy our Weakness;
Why for that Reason let him be admitted;
Allow this supple Slave of lawless Power,
Here to converse for once at least with Men.
Let him survey the Towers of Rome at leisure;
In You he'll find our City's strongest Bulwark.
[The Senators arise, and move towards the Consuls, to give their Votes.
VALERIUS.
Your Sense, I see, prevails. Rome and her Brutus
Ordain his Audience: I yield, tho' with Regret.
Lictors, conduct him in; and may our Country
Have no Occasion to repent his Presence.
[To Brutus.]
On Thee alone the Eyes of all are fix'd;
You rouz'd us first to break our slavish Bonds;
Still vindicate the Cause of Liberty,
And spread around the generous Principles,
That warm and animate a Roman Breast!
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SCENE II.
The Senate, Cælius, Albinus, and Attendants.Cælius enters, preceded by two Lictors and Albinus. He passes before the Consuls and the Senate, whom he salutes, and stands in the Front of the Theatre.
CÆLIUS.
Consuls and Senators—
I give you Thanks for the distinguish'd Honour,
Here to behold your Venerable Council,
And to approach this awful Seat of Heroes;
In Person to admire your shining Virtues,
And hear the Soul of Rome in Brutus speak!
Far from the Clamours of that barbarous Crowd,
Whom a wild frantic Fury hurries on;
Inconstant in their Love, as blind in Hate,
Who threat and crouch, are Lords and cringing Slaves,
All in a Day!—whose Insolence—
BRUTUS.
Hold, Cælius!
There is no Slave in Rome. Know you must treat
Her free-born Citizens with more Respect;
It is the Senate's Pride to represent
That virtuous People you so rashly censure.
Your flatt'ring Arts will all be fruitless here.
That Poison, which corrupts the Tuscan Court,
Is yet unknown among the Roman Senate.
Proceed.
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Unmov'd by these imperious Words,
I look with Pity on your falling State,
And mourn the Woes to which you are expos'd:
I, as a Son of Rome, espouse her Cause.
You see the dreadful Storm that low'rs around;
Titus in vain averts th'impending Blow;
His daring Hand (I speak it with Regret)
Can only make your Ruin more Illustrious.
His Victories unman your feeble Walls;
The Blood of your own Soldiers fills your Trenches.
Why will you then reject a Peace so needful?
As you pretend t'assert the Cause of Rome,
Porsenna is the Friend of injur'd Tarquin.
Reflect, ye formidable Roman Sires!
Sagacious Patrons of the People's Rights!
You who judge Kings! Reflect, where now ye are!
See there the Capitol, those very Altars,
Where heretofore, attesting all the Gods,
Ye swore Obedience to your banish'd King.
These Eyes beheld you, prostrate at his Feet,
With loyal Ardour plight your Faith to Tarquin.
What Gods have then dissolv'd a Monarch's Right?
What Pow'r can break a Tye, so strong and solemn?
Who has releas'd you from your Oaths?—
BRUTUS.
Himself.
Name not those Tyes, his flagrant Crimes have broke;
His forfeit Title, and the Gods he mock'd!
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'Tis their Consent alone, gives just Dominion.
With what Pretence of Right can Tarquin claim
Respect and Reverence from the Roman State,
Which he so boldly labour'd to subvert?
Cælius, when we elected him our King,
We vow'd Allegiance, but not Servitude!
And since you call to mind, that in yon' Temple,
You saw the Senate plight their Faith to Tarquin,
Remember too, in the same sacred Place,
In Presence of the Gods, before their Altars,
He promis'd to maintain the Rights of Rome:
This was the Bond between the King and People.
Our Oaths are cancell'd by the Breach of His.
By violating Laws Divine and Human,
Tarquin alone rebells, and Rome is free!
CÆLIUS.
Should it alas! be true, that Sovereign Power
Has tempted him beyond the Bounds of Reason;
And that, deluded by this Siren's Wiles,
He fondly stray'd from Virtue's fairer Paths;
Where lives the Man, that does not sometimes err?
Or where the King, exempt from Human Frailty?
But how dare Subjects, form'd by Heav'n t'obey,
Contend against th'Awards of Providence,
And with high Hand call Monarchs to Account?
What! shall a Son chastise a guilty Father?
With silent Grief he only mourns his Crimes!
And shall we pay less Reverence to Kings?
We are their Sons, the Gods alone their Judges.
If Jove sometimes deputes them in his Wrath,
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Provoke him not to send severer Judgments;
Nor change the Regal Power for Anarchy,
And by new-modelling the State, subvert it.
By sage Affliction taught, (Man's best Instructer)
Tarquin will more consult the Good of Rome.
You may, in lasting Peace and Union join'd,
Restore the Happiness of King and People;
Then Liberty shall smile secure, and flourish,
Protected by your Monarch's milder Sway.
BRUTUS.
'Tis now too late: Each Country has its Laws,
Which, uncontroul'd, it abrogates at Pleasure.
The Tuscans, to their Kings and Priests enslav'd,
Wish all Mankind as abject as themselves.
The gen'rous Greeks, Patrons of Liberty,
By Arts and Arms swell the loud Trump of Fame.
The soft luxurious Race of rich Ionia
Bow down their Necks to trampling Tyranny.
The Kings of Rome were never Absolute.
Numa, who gave us Laws, himself obey'd them.
We share the Weight of the supreme Command.
[He rises.
Great Jove, thou Sov'reign Pow'r! forgive the Romans
Their long Delay to pass the solemn Sentence,
Against proud Tarquin and his impious Race,
For ever to exclude them from the Throne!
When, in Defiance of the Laws and Justice,
He wantonly destroy'd his Subjects Lives,
The Tyrant then depos'd the Legal King!
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By Sufferings rouz'd, resume their antient Courage,
And with One Voice disclaim Despotic Sway.
The Tuscans too, had they the Souls of Men,
Might learn from Us t'expell licentious Tyrants!
[The Consuls move towards the Altar, and the Senate rises.
O Mars! thou Tutelary Pow'r of Rome,
The Hero's Guardian, and the God of Battels!
Receive our ardent Vows, on thy dread Altar,
For this great Council, and the Roman People.
Should there be found among the Sons of Rome
A Soul so base, barely to wish for Bondage,
Or harbour the least Thought to bring back Tarquin,
May the perfidious Wretch expire in Tortures;
And may his Ashes, scatter'd by the Winds,
Leave nought beside a Name, still more accurst,
If possible, than that of guilty Tarquin!
CÆLIUS,
moving towards the Altar.
And I, on this same Altar you profane,
Swear, in the Name of your deserted King,
And in Porsenna's Name, his just Avenger,
Eternal War to all the Roman Race!
[The Senators move towards the Capitol.
Stay, Senators; I have not yet complain'd
Of all the Outrages I have in Charge.
Is Tarquin's Daughter too, whom you detain,
Design'd a Victim for the Roman Safety?
Or do you load her Princely Hands with Chains,
T'insult her Sire, and all the neighb'ring Kings?
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From whence his Donatives so largely flow'd,
Now yours by Gift? or do you claim by Conquest?
Well you dethrone the King to seize his Riches!
Let Brutus, if he can, deny this Charge.
BRUTUS,
turning himself towards Cælius.
Thou'rt yet a Stranger to the Roman Genius;
We, and these Senators, Foes to Corruption,
Have heap'd no Wealth, tho' hoary grown in Honours:
Take then the Gold: Let Tarquin revel with it,
Nor envy us our Poverty and Freedom.—
Lucia, to Me entrusted by the Senate,
Enjoys not here, indeed, that Royal Pomp,
Those flatt'ring Honours and luxurious Pleasures,
Whose Siren Charms corrupt the tender Heart;
But all the kind Regard she has receiv'd,
Due to her Sex, her Youth, and her Misfortunes.
She is permitted to return with You.
Henceforth may Nought in Rome belong to Tarquin,
But Public Hate, and Vengeance of the Gods!
To carry off th'Effects and Gold requir'd,
You are allow'd a Day; That must suffice;
In the mean while, my House is your Protection:
Freely enjoy all Hospitable Rights.
You have the Senate's final Resolution.
Acquaint Porsenna with our fixt Decree,
And bear to him from us War and Defiance!
VALERIUS
to the Senate.
Proceed we now to crown the Capitol
With Laurel Wreaths, that deck'd the Brows of Titus.
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His happy Hands have ravish'd from the Tuscans.
[To Brutus.]
Thus may your late Descendants, with like Ardour,
From Age to Age, Triumphant fight for Rome!
BRUTUS.
Ye righteous Pow'rs! continue still to bless
The glorious Cause of Freedom with Success!
[Exeunt all but Cælius and Albinus.
SCENE III.
Cælius, Albinus.CÆLIUS.
Didst thou remark the Senate's stubborn Pride,
Who vainly think themselves Invincible?
They would be so indeed, were Time allow'd 'em,
To cherish in their Sons this daring Spirit.
Albinus, the fair Plan of Liberty,
Which every Mortal secretly adores,
Inspires the Soul with such a dauntless Courage,
As they ne'er know, who feel the Weight of Bondage!
In Tarquin's Reign a Flow of circling Joys,
Unstrung their Nerves, and sunk their Martial Ardour.
The King, employ'd in conquering his own Subjects,
Permitted us t'enjoy the Sweets of Peace.
But should the Roman Genius once awake;
Should Rome be free; the Torrent of her Arms
Will with wild Rage o'erwhelm the neighb'ring Nations.
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Will whet their Fangs, and spring upon their Foes!
Then let us, by their Ruin, timely scatter
The gathering Storms, which threaten all Hesperia,
And may, ere long, disturb the World's Repose.
For our own Safety, let us bind the Romans
In the same Chains which they would fix on others.
But will Messala come? May we confer?
And will he dare—
ALBINUS.
This was the Place assign'd.
He'll straight be here. Titus is his Support.
CÆLIUS.
But art thou well assur'd he may be trusted?
ALBINUS.
If right I know Messala, he conspires,
Rather to change his own, than Tarquin's Fortune;
And yet his Courage is as firm and dauntless,
As if inspir'd by Thirst of jealous Honour.
He's Master of himself, and of his Secrets,
Impenetrably close, when most provok'd.
CÆLIUS.
In Tarquin's Reign, when last I was at Rome,
I took him to be such as you describe,
And since his Letters—But see! he here approaches.
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SCENE IV.
Cælius, Messala, Albinus.CÆLIUS.
Noble Messala, Hail! Thy Royal Master
Accepts thy duteous Zeal with warm Affection,
And bears a Heart that counts itself thy Debtor.
What! nor Porsenna's Threats, nor Tarquin's Gold,
Nor all th'alluring Charms a Court displays,
Can move the Senate!—Are these Patricians
Exempt from Hope and Fear, and every Passion?
MESSALA.
So they pretend; but their affected Justice,
Their Scorn of Riches, and Contempt of Pleasures,
Are nought but the prevailing Thirst of Power.
On Crowns they trample with superior Pride.
These strenuous Patrons of the Roman Rights,
Banish their King, to Tyrannize themselves.
Under the soft, seducing Name of Fathers,
They haughtily affect the Pomp of Princes.
Rome has but chang'd her Bonds; and for One King,
Will in the Senate find a Hundred Tyrants!
CÆLIUS.
Are any of your Citizens so honest,
As to detest this lowest Servitude?
MESSALA.
Few feel their Misery; their giddy Minds
Are still transported with this sudden Change.
The meanest Citizen, with Want oppress'd,
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Yet I've a Band select of faithful Friends,
Who cannot brook the Yoke of these new Masters;
Souls Resolute and Bold, whose Hands and Hearts
Were form'd to shake, or change the Fate of Empires!
CÆLIUS.
Say, what may we expect from these brave Romans?
Will they assist their King?
MESSALA.
Fearless of Danger,
Their Lives and Fortunes are devoted to him.
Yet think not they, with Enthusiastic Zeal,
Will hazard All to serve ungrateful Masters.
Tarquin, they know, is prodigal of Words,
But when restor'd, they say, he'll soon forget,
Or hate, perhaps, the generous Hands that sav'd him.
They know the Great too well. When in Disgrace,
Cringing they sooth the meanest of the Crowd;
But soon as Fortune seats them high in Honour,
They view with Scorn, at Night, the Darling Friend,
That in the Morn was tenderly caress'd;
And treat their Vassals, as mere Tools of State,
Which, when their own ambitious Views are serv'd,
They throw disdainfully away as Useless!
Hear then the Terms, on which my Friends will aid you.
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May win the Hearts of this inconstant People;
A Chief so great, that should we prove victorious,
He may oblige the King to keep his Faith;
Or, if we fall, boldly revenge our Deaths.
CÆLIUS.
If I remember right, your Letters mention'd
That Titus—
MESSALA.
Titus is Rome's chief Support,
The very Life and Soul of all the Party!
He is the Son of Brutus—
And yet—
CÆLIUS.
How does he brook th'unjust Requital,
He has receiv'd for all his gallant Actions?
His single Hand sav'd Rome; and yet his Merit
Could not procure a Consulship.—
I know he was rejected—
MESSALA.
And, I know, he murmurs;
His Blood boils high at this ungrateful Treatment.
The Generous Senate gives him no Reward,
Except the Noisy Honour of a Triumph.
I've closely watch'd the Sallies of his Passions:
He's yet a Novice in the Field of Glory,
And may, by artful Management, be led.
Impetuous Youth is wrought upon with Ease.
But then maturely weigh, what Prejudices
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The tender Sense of Shame, and Fear to lose
The Fame acquir'd by his illustrious Deeds.
Therefore study Titus; read all his Soul,
The Rage that swells, the Flame that melts his Heart.
He dies for Lucia—
CÆLIUS.
Has Titus fix'd his Love on Tarquin's Daughter?
MESSALA.
I with much Labour wrung this Secret from him;
He glows with Shame, and dares not own his Weakness.
But among all the Passions that distract him,
A Zeal for Liberty is most outragious.
CÆLIUS.
The Fate of Rome, in spight of my Endeavours,
I see, depends upon this single Man,
And varies with his fickle Gusts of Passion.
But let us not despair.
[To Albinus.]
Do thou, Albinus,
Prepare this Instant to return to Tarquin.
[To Messala.]
Let us attend the Princess: Some Experience
Has open'd to my View the Human Heart.
I'll pry into her Soul; and thence, perhaps,
May weave a Snare to take the haughty Romans.
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Mocks at the Spear, and terrifies the Swains;
At length, entangled in the Hunter's Toils,
With Fury roars, and drops th'untasted Spoils!
End of the First Act.
| Junius Brutus | |