University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

SCENE, A Hall in the Palace of the Consuls.
The Senate, Brutus, Silvius, Rufus, Proculus, Lictors, the Slave Vindex.
BRUTUS.
Yes; Mournful Rome must now have wept in Blood.
Death would have march'd triumphant thro' the Gates,
And heap'd the Streets with slaughter'd Citizens.
This very Night, was Tarquin to have enter'd.
Nor Sex, nor Age would have escap'd his Sword
Keen with impetuous Rage, and fell Revenge.
Then had our Liberties been lost for ever!
This close-concerted Scheme, big with Destruction,
Sprung from the fertile Brain of fraudful Cælius.
In Rome were also found rebellious Sons,
Who in Defiance of their solemn Oaths,
And every Tye that binds the Heart of Man,
Conspir'd with Tyrants to enslave their Country!
The Captain of this Band was bold Messala.
Lur'd with the Hopes of ample Wealth and Honours,
He promis'd to betray our Gates to Tarquin.

SILVIUS.
You still maintain our Rights and Liberties
With the same Zeal, as you at first redeem'd them.
But Say, how was this subtle Plan detected?

BRUTUS.
The Power Supreme, with ever-waking Eye,
Has watch'd for Rome, and guarded all our Lives.
That Slave, unseen, hearing th'Intrigues of Cælius,
[Pointing to Vindex.
Open'd to Me this formidable Plot.
Rouz'd by the pressing Danger of the Romans,
I strait gave Orders for the Public Safety:
The Ministers of Justice seiz'd Messala,
And had receiv'd express Command from Me,
To bring him instantly before the Senate.
Encompass'd as he stood, he from his Bosom
A secret Dagger snatch'd, and boldly cry'd,
“The Man who dares conspire, must dare to die!
Speaking, he fiercely plung'd it in his Breast.
Th'astonish'd Lictors ran too late to save him.

RUFUS.
What Words can pay the Thanks we owe to Brutus,
For his unwearied Toils to serve his Country?
Too mild the Fate of this audacious Traytor!—
For these perfidious Arts of smooth-tongu'd Cælius,
Eternal Infamy shall brand his Name!
Is he escap'd, rejoicing in his Crimes?

BRUTUS.
Cælius was far advanc'd. Our Troops pursu'd,
And seiz'd him near the Tuscan Camp with Lucia.
Doubt not, we soon shall dive into the Depth
Of this Conspiracy. Active Valerius
Is now employ'd in finding out the Authors.
But when you know their Names, Fathers, beware
Not to betray the State by ill-tim'd Mercy.
Fulfill your Vows: Regard their Crimes alone.
Let us be just to Rome, nor spare the Guilty,
Tho' ev'n the dearest Friends, Brothers, or Sons.
The Man who gives his Voice to pardon Treason,
Should be esteem'd Accomplice with the Traytor.
[To the Slave.]
Vindex, to whom indulgent Heav'n has given
A Dignity of Soul above thy Birth;
Thou, who hast sav'd the Roman State from Bondage,
Grateful Receive that Liberty we owe thee:
Be Free, and Equal to the greatest Roman.
[A Huzza without.
What gives Occasion to this sudden Shout?

PROCULUS.
Cælius, conducted by a Guard, approaches.

BRUTUS.
Not all his Arts can cover, or disguise
His flagrant Infamy.—

SCENE II.

The Senate, Brutus, Cælius, Lictors.
CÆLIUS.
O! frantic Romans,
How dare you violate the Laws of Nations!—
Your frontless Lictors insolently seiz'd me.
What means this Outrage on my Character?

BRUTUS.
Thy Character does but enhance thy Guilt:
No more appeal to a vain empty Title.

CÆLIUS.
A King's Ambassador—

BRUTUS.
Ambassador!
Thou'rt but a dignify'd Conspirator,
Presuming to commit the basest Crimes,
Beneath the Sanction of a Sacred Name.
The true Ambassador regards his Honour,
Nor stains by Treachery his awful Trust:
Promoting still Benevolence and Peace,
He's every where receiv'd with Reverence.
Try, if thy Actions suit this Character!—
But know, the Roman State, tho' thus provok'd,
Will faithfully obey the Laws of Nations;
Nor farther Punishment on You inflict,
Than to behold those perjur'd Parricides,
Whom You seduc'd, suffer the Fate they merit.
When that is past, go sooth Porsenna's Ear
With the Success of this perfidious Scheme;
And, in thy Person thus dismiss'd Untouch'd,
Thro' all Hesperia's States at once display
The Lenity of Rome and thy Disgrace.
Lictors, conduct him hence.

[Exit Cælius, attended by two Lictors.

SCENE III.

The Senate, Brutus, Valerius, Proculus.
BRUTUS.
Welcome, Valerius.
Hast thou discover'd the Conspirators?
But whence this Gloom? What means that downcast Look?
You tremble.

VALERIUS.
Remember thou art Brutus.

BRUTUS.
Explain thyself.

VALERIUS.
My Tongue faulters.
[He offers a Scroll to him.
This secret Draught of the Conspiracy,
In which the leading Rebels stand enroll'd,
Was by the Lictors seiz'd upon Messala.

BRUTUS,
[Looking upon the Scroll.]
Are not my Eyes deceiv'd? Detested Day!
O wretched Father!—What! my Son Tiberius!
Forgive me, Senators—Is he secur'd?

[Returning the Scroll.
VALERIUS.
He stood on his Defence with two bold Traytors,
Who rather chose to die, than to surrender;
And, obstinately fighting, near them fell.—
But there remains a heavier Weight of Grief;
To Rome, to Thee, and Me, far more afflicting!

BRUTUS.
What do I hear?

VALERIUS.
Resume, and read again
This dreadful List.

BRUTUS.
O Torture! Torture!—Titus!—

[He falls into the Arms of Proculus.
SILVIUS.
What! Titus charg'd with practising Rebellion!
After such glorious Deeds in our Defence,
Can He, at last, be faithless to his Country?
If his ingenuous Bosom harbours Treason,
Where shall we seek for Honour, Truth, and Virtue?
Who can be safe, when Titus is accus'd?

RUFUS.
I value and admire, no less than Silvius,
Th'heroic Worth of your Illustrious Son.
[To Brutus.
But we're no Strangers to his headstrong Passions;
We know to what Excess he was transported,
When his ambitious Views were lately check'd.
How far a blind Resentment may prevail,
'Tis hard to say. But if, which Heav'n avert!
Th'unhappy Youth has been seduc'd by Cælius,
I'll joyfully concur in any Measures
To testify our Gratitude to Brutus.
Perhaps Valerius can inform us farther.

VALERIUS.
I found him wand'ring in a lonely Place,
Anxious, unarm'd, dismay'd, and full of Horror;
His down-cast Eyes and folded Arms confess'd,
Some mighty Woe sat heavy on his Soul.

BRUTUS.
Fathers, return without me to the Capitol;
I ought not now to take a Seat among you.
Justly exterminate my guilty Race:
Nor will I there attend you, lest my Presence
Shou'd seem design'd t'arrest your speedy Vengeance.

[Exeunt Valerius and all the Senators.

SCENE IV.

BRUTUS.
To Your Decrees, great Gods! I am resign'd.
You, by my Hands, have rear'd this noble Fabrick
Of Legal Power, and Public Liberty,
Fix'd on the Basis of Eternal Justice,
And promising to last a Length of Ages!—
Yet in an Hour, my own unnatural Sons
Would have destroy'd this fair and stately Structure,
Had not just Heav'n blasted their impious Purpose.—
O! Power Supreme!—Father of Men and Gods!
Strengthen the generous Hands that fight for Freedom,
And strike a Terror thro' the Foes of Rome!—
Remov'd from Public View, I may discard
The awful Rigour of a Roman Consul,
And with Paternal Pity mourn my Sons,
By too severe a Fate, at once cut off,
In early Youth, with everlasting Shame,
(O killing Thought!) as Traytors to their Country!
That thou, Tiberius! hast conspir'd with Tyrants,
To introduce Despotic Pow'r and Bondage,
Nature recoils!—It sinks my Soul with Sorrow!—
But then that Titus too, so brave a Roman,
Who on this Day, distinguish'd by his Triumph,
Was crown'd with Laurels in the Capitol
By my own Hands, in Presence of the People,
Hope of my Age, and Glory of his Country!
That he should join in this Accursed Scheme!—
O Titus! Titus! would the Gods permit me
To offer up my Life to ransom thine,
For Thee, my Son, I would contented die!
But Honour, Virtue, Rome, all, all forbid it!—
O Rome! thou little know'st, what Pangs I feel,
To fix thy Rights, and make thee free and glorious!

SCENE V.

Brutus, Valerius, Proculus, Lictors.
VALERIUS.
Brutus, to Thee the Senate have transferr'd
Their Right of Judgment on thy Son's Offence.

BRUTUS.
To Me?

VALERIUS.
To Thee alone.—

BRUTUS.
What of the rest?

VALERIUS.
Their Sentence is already past.
Ev'n now perhaps the Lictor's dreaded Hand
Cuts off their forfeit Lives.

BRUTUS.
Say'st thou the Senate have to Me referr'd
The Fate of Titus?

VALERIUS.
Such is their Sovereign Will.
They think You merit this distinguish'd Honour.—
What Answer shall I bear?

BRUTUS.
That Brutus justly values this high Favour,
Which tho' he did not seek, he'll aim at least
By an impartial Conduct to deserve.—
But did not Titus yield without Resistance,
Who might—You will excuse my doubtful Heart—
He was the Hope of Rome—I feel I love him—

VALERIUS.
Lucia—

BRUTUS.
Ha!

VALERIUS.
Lucia, this very Moment,
Too far confirms his Guilt.

BRUTUS.
Confirms his Guilt!

VALERIUS.
No sooner she beheld the fatal Scaffolds,
The gathering Crowd, the Lictors, and the Axes,
But this unhappy Maid, with frantic Sorrow
Tore her dishevell'd Hair, and raving cry'd,
Is this the Royal Dower to Titus promis'd?
Speaking she sunk, oppress'd with mighty Woe!
The deadly Struggle o'er, and Life return'd,
Her Servants seize this Interval of Reason,
And with officious Care conduct her hither.

BRUTUS.
Just Gods!
[After a Pause.]
Lictors, bring in Titus.

VALERIUS.
A Father's Grief deserves to be rever'd.
Rome will approve whatever You decree.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Brutus, Proculus.
BRUTUS.
It cannot be.—The more I weigh the Crime,
The more I am confirm'd he's Innocent.
The Man who fought so bravely for his Country,
Could ne'er conspire to aid the Foes of Rome;
Nor from th'exalted Heights of Godlike Virtue,
Sink down at once a most abandon'd Villain!

PROCULUS.
Perhaps Messala spread this false Report,
To countenance his own destructive Scheme.

BRUTUS.
Would to the Gods it prove no more!

PROCULUS.
But if 'tis possible to think him guilty;
Th'indulgent Senate still allows his Pardon.
You may preserve this Heroe for the State.
He's now your only Son.

BRUTUS.
I am a Roman Consul.

SCENE VII.

Brutus, Lucia with dishevell'd Hair, Attendants.
Lucia runs, and throws herself on her Knees before Brutus.
LUCIA.
See, Brutus, See a Princess at thy Feet,
To beg the Life of thy unhappy Son.
O! let her not intreat in vain for Mercy!
'Twas I, 'twas I seduc'd th'unwary Youth;
Mine was the Crime, be mine the Punishment!
Pour all your Wrath on this devoted Head;
I'll bear it all; but spare his Life more precious.
I call great Jove, and ev'ry Power to witness,
His only Fault was too much Love for Lucia!

BRUTUS.
O! born in evil Hour, t'afflict the Romans,
Cease to inflame my Grief and Indignation!—
Has Titus then conspir'd to aid Porsenna?
If so, he must expect the just Reward,
Due to the Guilt of his enormous Crimes.
Therefore retire; sollicit me no more.
I can no longer hear thy vain Petition.
[Rising.
For Thee, so fatally belov'd by Titus,
Thou shalt be safe conducted to thy Father.

[Exeunt Brutus and Proculus.
LUCIA.
No, cruel Man! unworthy such a Son,
Deaf as the Winds, or raging Seas, to Pity,
Lucia rejects with Scorn the Grace you offer!
Tho' weak my Frame, yet still my Soul is Roman.
Brutus and Rome shall see, this gallant Youth
Plac'd not his Love upon a worthless Object.

SCENE VIII.

As Lucia, &c. are going off the Stage, they meet Titus led in by the Lictors.
Titus, Lucia, &c.
TITUS,
starting
Ha! Lucia here?

LUCIA.
O my much-injur'd Titus!
In vain I have essay'd, with Pray'rs and Tears,
To gain thy Pardon from relentless Brutus.
His Heart is steel'd to ev'ry tender Passion.
Hence he retir'd, to shun my hated Presence—
Behold, just Heav'n!—This Father of his Country,
So watchful to preserve the Roman Laws,
Himself now violating those of Nature,
With his Son's Blood pollutes his Savage Hands!

TITUS.
Blame not my Father. All the Guilt is mine!
Those Sacred Laws I wildly have transgress'd,
Extort the Sentence I so justly merit.
I hasten to the Land of dark Oblivion,
Where racking Thought shall torture me no more!

LUCIA.
Have I betray'd the best and bravest Roman,
The Man for whom I wou'd have gladly dy'd?
Unutterable Anguish overwhelms me!—

TITUS.
Forbear to pierce my Heart with thy Complainings!—
My Soul was busied with the Thoughts of Death;
Tempt me no more to wish for Life again!
Nature's too weak to bear this dreadful Conflict!
[Leaning upon her.
[Recovering, after a Pause.
May no Misfortunes grieve thy joyous Days;
Yet deign sometimes to think on wretched Titus!
Remember, with his dying Breath he blest thee!
O! let me still indulge the pleasing Hope,
That thou shalt live, live happy many Years,
And Heav'n will crown thee with its choicest Gifts!
Then shall I meet my Fate without Reluctance,
Nor once repine against the Gods, or Brutus!—
Thou fairest Pattern of transcendent Goodness,
Farewell! Farewell!—for ever!

[Embracing her.
LUCIA.
O! Farewell!
Thou matchless Heroe! and too-generous Lover!
If I cou'd cherish now One Thought of Life,
I shou'd detest the Baseness of my Heart!
Thy glorious Shade I'll meet in Realms below,
Where thy fierce Father's Anger cannot reach us!—
Nor Pain, nor Grief, our virtuous Souls shall know,
But with Love's purest Flames for ever glow.
Thy Fate, dear lovely Youth, with Joy I'll share,
And thus escape from ev'ry racking Care!

[Stabbing herself.
TITUS,
upon seeing Lucia kill herself, at first starts; and then stands awhile silent, as stupify'd with Grief. At last he breaks forth into this Exclamation.
Break, stubborn Heart, and end my Miseries!—
'Tis done. The Pangs of Death, at length, are past!
Heroic Maid!—thy great Example shows,
With how much Ease a Mind resolv'd may die!—

SCENE IX.

Brutus, Titus, Proculus.
PROCULUS,
[coming up to Titus.]
Behold, my Lord, Brutus approaches.

TITUS.
'Tis my Father! O painful Moments!

[Aside.
PROCULUS,
[seeing the dead Body.]
Ha! Lucia slain? I tremble now for Titus.
The Gods relentless punish Tarquin's Race!
Lictors, remove the Body.

TITUS.
Open, thou Earth! beneath these stagg'ring Feet,
And cover me with everlasting Night!

BRUTUS.
Of two beloved Sons, the Gift of Heaven,
Tiberius is no more!—Now tell me, Titus,
Have I One Son yet left?

TITUS.
You have No Son.

BRUTUS.
Then answer to thy Judge, Bane of my Life!
[He sits down.
Did'st thou resolve, in open Violation
Of every Sacred Tye, to kill thy Father,
And to betray the Liberties of Rome?

TITUS.
My self-divided Heart resolv'd on Nothing.
A deadly Poyson prey'd upon my Soul;
I was, and am a Stranger to myself:
I wander in a Labyrinth of Crimes.
My guilty Heart rebell'd a single Moment;
That Moment stains the Lustre of my Actions;
That Moment brands me with Eternal Shame;
And makes ev'n Life itself a Burden to me.
Rome, which looks up to Brutus as her Father,
Unsettled Rome requires some great Example.
By my just Punishment, then strike a Terror
On all who meditate, like me, her Ruin,
And would restore a Prince they have abjur'd.
Pronounce my Doom, I stand prepar'd to hear it.
Thus shall my Blood be never spilt in vain,
But by my Death I shall preserve my Country.

BRUTUS.
Good Gods! such Courage with such Falshood join'd!
How strangely are his Crimes and Virtues blended!
[Aside.
Amid thy Laurels and Triumphal Joys,
And all th'illustrious Trophies of thy Arms,
What jealous God, Foe to the Roman Name,
Could prompt thy Soul to such a horrid Deed?

TITUS.
A cruel Train of complicated Passions;
Ambition, Hate, Revenge, a sudden Frenzy—

BRUTUS.
Conclude, unhappy Wretch!

TITUS.
A guilty Flame,
The torturing Source of all my dire Misfortunes.
But 'tis too much—I shock your injur'd Patience
By this Recital of my baneful Love—
My frantic Rage and Woes are at the Height!
Finish my Life, my Crimes, and my Despair,
Your own Disgrace and mine!—But if this Hand
E'er fought successfully for Rome and Freedom;
If e'er I follow'd in the glorious Paths,
Which You have trod, and panted after Virtue,
And if my Death deserves a Father's Pity,
[He throws himself on his Knees.
Open your Arms to your relenting Son!
Give him the Comfort of One kind Embrace,
Before he is remov'd for Ever from thee!
O! say at least, that Brutus does not hate him:
These Words will save my Memory from Shame,
And silence the Reproach of busy Tongues.
'Twill chear my Soul in its departing Moments,
To think you pity, and forgive my Crime,
That still you love, and own me for your Son!

BRUTUS.
His just Remorse with deeper Anguish wounds me!
[Aside.
“The violated Genius of thy Country
“Rears his sad Head, and passes Sentence on thee.
Go, Proculus, conduct him to his Fate.—
[Brutus lifts him up in his Arms.
Arise, thou piercing Object of my Sorrow!
Delusive Hope of my declining Years!
Embrace thy wretched Father!—May the Gods
Arm thee with Patience to support thy Sufferings!
The Sovereign Magistrate of injur'd Rome,
Entrusted with the Care of Public Justice,
Was bound by his high Office to condemn
A Crime, the Father's bleeding Heart forgives!
Go meet thy Fate with a more manly Courage,
Than Grief will let me show in parting from thee!
See! while I speak, my streaming Eyes confess,
How dear thou art to this afflicted Breast,
And how reluctantly I tear thee from it!
Thou hast liv'd a Roman, like a Roman die;
And, while she punishes, let Rome admire thee!

TITUS.
May Heav'n prolong th'important Life of Brutus!
Worthy his Name, I now shall die content.

[Exit Titus, guarded by the Lictors.
BRUTUS.
Farewell, thou much-belov'd ill-fated Youth!
Tho' thou art snatch'd untimely from the Earth,
My Misery is heavier far than thine;
For all thy Pangs will in a Moment pass,
But I am doom'd to bear a ling'ring Death;
And to the Urn my hoary Head descends,
Bow'd down with Grief, and never-ceasing Woes!
How hard the Task, when partial Nature pleads,
To yield the Father's, to the Patriot's Claim!

SCENE X.

Brutus, Valerius.
VALERIUS.
The Senators, with Sympathizing Sorrow,
Condole with Brutus on this great Affliction.

BRUTUS.
I stand indebted to their Love—But now
The threat'ning Dangers that surround the Romans,
Claim all our Thoughts, and chace domestic Woes.
Our Enemies prepare a fresh Attack;
Then let us boldly meet them in the Field,
Resigning to the Gods our righteous Cause.
I look on all Rome's Citizens as Sons:
It is their Duty now, with double Ardour,
To emulate that Heroe's shining Virtues,
Who, to preserve their Rights, was doom'd to die,
While green in Youth, and deck'd with blooming Honours!
O! may my Blood be spilt in their Defence,
As poor deluded Titus shou'd have fall'n!

SCENE the Last.

Brutus, Valerius, Proculus.
BRUTUS.
Say, Proculus, what Tidings dost thou bring?

PROCULUS.
Your Son, my Lord, with dauntless Resolution—

BRUTUS.
Forbear! The Fatal Debt is paid to Justice,
And Rome is free. Return we Thanks to Heav'n!
Reason's just Laws with jealous Care obey,
And never from the Paths of Virtue stray.
It will be vain, illustrious Deeds to boast,
When by One Crime, the Fame of All is lost.