University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Prætorium of Fulvius; Petronia and Domitius brought in Chains; an Urn, with lots.
COCLES.
My Lord! I've brought two prisoners of importance—

FULVIUS.
But where's my son? the cohorts he commanded—

COCLES.
Your son, my friend, too ardent in pursuit,
Whelm'd in the tide of war—alas! I saw—

FULVIUS.
Then am I wretched!—Rome, forgive this tear.
These rebels shall atone my Titus' fall.
Both, both, shall die.

DOMITIUS.
I long to die; but spare that beardless youth;—
His father is my friend:—Before this morn
He ne'er was clad in arms.

FULVIUS.
Then bring an urn;
They shall draw lots.

DOMITIUS.
Oh why must we draw lots?

[An urn is brought in.
DOMITIUS.
On me revenge your son's disastrous fall.

FULVIUS.
No more incense me: Draw—

PETRONIA.
We must obey.

FULVIUS.
Who draws the black—his ghost shall straightway hail
My Titus on the Stygian shore—
You draw.

[Pointing to Domitius.
DOMITIUS.
Fortune, if e'er you heard a soldier's prayer,
If in the chance of battle e'er you sav'd me,
O grant me, grant me this my soul's request,
O grant me death, and let Petronia live!

[Aside.
[Draws the white,—signs of extreme distress.
PETRONIA.
O my Domitius, be not so dismay'd!
With resolution, not my own, you fire me;
The black is mine;—no deity I blame:—
True, true, I had not thought to die so soon;—
Heaven make my death sit easy on my parents.

DOMITIUS.
Lost, lost, Domitius! wherefore did I counsel
Thy wretched mother to this expedition?
I should have known th' alertness of the Romans,
Known that it was impossible to 'scape them.
Curse on my tongue!—and why did she consent?
Fulvius, if e'er you felt a father's joys;—
If you expect the gods should prosper you;—
Have pity on the parents of that youth.—
Twice thirty years they've known; let not their age
Go down with misery to the vale of death.
Have mercy on that youth; not sixteen years
Have shed their downy honours on his cheek.
That youth ne'er injur'd you; much, much, have I:
For first when Hannibal to Latium came,
I join'd the noble foreigner, and fought
In every battle where he vanquish'd you.

PETRONIA.
Cease, cease, Domitius; you provoke your doom:
No pity dwells in barb'rous Roman bosoms.
Live, I conjure you; live to save your country;
Revenge my death; and oh, console my parents.

DOMITIUS.
It was my sword, at Cannæ, kill'd Æmilius;
I was the first that with Calavius join'd,
And made my countrymen shake off your yoke:
Nay, more, since Capua was by you invested,
No party sallied, and no engine play'd,
Without Domitius; let Domitius die:
Upon my knees I beg, with tears I beg you;
But spare that youth, and send him back to Capua.

ASSELLIUS.
Was ever man so eloquent for death?
Heroic couple! this indeed is friendship.
O what a pity 'tis they are not Romans!

DUILLIUS.
Now, Cowardice brand my name, but I could wish
To meet Domitius in the listed plain.

FULVIUS.
It moves me strangely.

PEDANIUS.
When such noble minds
Defend yon towers, no wonder at our slowness.
Suspend their doom, they may be useful to us.

DOMITIUS
—(Aside.)
What shall I do? Shall I declare her sex?
They cannot doom a virgin;—yet, O ponder!
Will Vibius' daughter, will so fair a Capuan,
From lust be sacred in a Roman camp?
O no:—I'd rather see Petronia dead.—
Curse on these bonds;—O were my hands but free,
I'd do a bloody, noble, godlike deed:
A very Roman, to protect his daughter
From lustful Appius, with his sword dispatch'd her.

Enter an Augur.
AUGUR.
Fulvius, as you regard th' immortal Power,
Whose holy ensigns grace my aged brow,
These captives kill not.

FULVIUS.
I revere your God;
But why this interdict? Jove will not, cannot
Protect the rebel enemies of Rome.

AUGUR.
Ev'n now, the sacred birds refus'd to drink;
Ev'n now, I saw a swarm of bees, in spite of
A camp's rude din, on the Prætorium settle.

PETRONIA.
I yet may see my pleasing native home,
My honour'd parents;—and I may be yours.

[Aside, to Domitius.
DOMITIUS.
Then would I laugh at Fate.

FULVIUS.
Your God must be obey'd;—guard well your prisoners.
[They are led out.
And thou, sad ghost of my departed son,
Condemn me not, if I delay thy vengeance.

AUGUR.
Thy son's not dead—

FULVIUS.
Then Titus is a prisoner.

AUGUR.
He is.

FULVIUS.
In Capua?

AUGUR.
Haste, to Appius' tent;
A Capuan messenger is just arriv'd.

SCENE II.

The Camp; Fulvius, Appius, Assellius, &c.
FULVIUS.
A virgin? and Petronia? Vibius' daughter?

APPIUS.
So said the herald.

FULVIUS.
She's my son's belov'd:
I thought him frantic when he us'd to praise her;
But her beauties beggar panegyric.

APPIUS.
I'm glad we can redeem your gallant son;—
Domitius is an honourable exchange.

FULVIUS.
Would he were here!

APPIUS.
He shall be soon.

FULVIUS
—(Aside.)
Possession
Might quench a passion so unlike a Roman;
I hate a Capuan, but detest her father.

ASSELLIUS
—(to Pedanius.)
Although I knew the daring of the youth,
I was astonish'd.

PEDANIUS.
Now 'tis plain he loves,
Loves to distraction: Friendship to her father
Could never make him beg for death to save her.

APPIUS.
By Heaven! you're right.

PEDANIUS.
And something may be done.

[Exit, conferring with Appius—Manet Fulvius.
Enters a Tribune, with a Carthaginian Prisoner.
FULVIUS.
A Carthaginian prisoner! by his mien,
And noble bearing, he should be important.
Ha! how he scowls contemptuous! say, whence, soldier?

TRIBUNE.
As westward with my party I patroll'd,
I beat the forest where I was commanded,
In vain; but eastward to the camp returning,
Hid in a darkling, woodbine-mantled cave,
Fronting the river, near Feretria's temple,
We spied this Moor; but ere we could secure him,
Into the stream, he, tearing, toss'd this packet,
And with his poniard tried to stab himself.
A hardy swimmer haply this recover'd;
And I, my Lord, the dagger wrested from him.

FULVIUS.
Whence art thou, slave?

[He is silent, and frowns more contemptuously.
TRIBUNE.
Thus on the march he frowningly was mute.

FULVIUS.
Not speak, barbarian! Then he'll tell no lies:
And where's the African that's not a liar?
Hence with him, guards; and to our fiercest lions,
His country savages, to-morrow cast him.

SCENE III.

Domitius and Petronia, in Prison.
PETRONIA.
I can no more;—I feel my spirits fail:—
The Romans, and your courage, lent me strength;—
But now the woman reassumes her right.

DOMITIUS.
O, fair as Nature ever fram'd a virgin!
Thou first, sole sovereign of this pang-torn breast!
Dearer to me than conquests to Ambition!
To-day the gods have prov'd us with distress;
But soon they must, believe me, change thy doom,
Nor suffer worth, so like their own, to perish.

PETRONIA.
Something sat heavy on my mind this morning,
And whisper'd, “Stir not; as you prize your freedom,
Petronia, stir not.”—Awe-struck with the warning,
I would have staid.

DOMITIUS.
Yes, Fair-one, I'm to blame.
Whate'er befals you, I'm th' unhappy cause.
Yet sure the Romans, barbarous as they are,
Cannot behold your charms, and bid you die.
By Heaven they shall not, while Domitius lives!
I'll step 'twixt Fate and thee.

PETRONIA.
You are a prisoner.

DOMITIUS.
I am; would Heaven that that were all, Petronia!
I am your lover; you are bound in chains:
Fulvius might kill me, but he could not hurt:
I only feel for you.

PETRONIA.
This proof of love
I could have well dispens'd with.

DOMITIUS.
After so long a martyrdom of courtship,
When you, your parents, and when Fortune smil'd;
When my whole soul was eagerness and hope;
When yellow Hymen pointed to the temple;
Thus to be hurl'd into th' abyss of woe,
Is cruel, cruel: Hold, heart! some Roman enters.

Enter a Lictor.
LICTOR.
I am commanded by the Consul Appius,
To bring Domitius straightway to his presence.

DOMITIUS.
I obey.

[Lictor retires.

SCENE IV.

The Same.
PETRONIA
—(alone.)
Could aught support me in this sea of trouble,
From sinking under, his affection would.
But 'tis a dreadful, dreadful thing, to die!
To pass o'er burning lakes! hear shrieking ghosts!
See snake-hair'd furies, Pluto, Charon, Minos!
To drink the bitter waters of Oblivion!
To see the cheerful face of day no more!
No more the wishes of parental fondness!
And, oh! no more the tender tale of love!
How dreadful, dreadful, in my youth's full bloom!
And yet Domitius begg'd, with fervour begg'd,
When Expectation had wound up his soul
To scenes of softest bliss, to die for me!
O might I live, this unexampled proof
Of love, would make me without blushing own
That still I lov'd him, when I seem'd most cruel!
Perhaps th' event's not far; my father must
Have been inform'd of our disastrous fate,
And will use every method to redeem us.

SCENE V.

Appius's Tent; all the apparatus of an Execution; Domitius is brought in; Appius affects a surprise and severity of countenance.
APPIUS.
It was the other that was doom'd to die.
Haste, Lictors, fetch him.
[They pretend to carry him back.
Let him too remain.
You seem dismay'd; you are not yet to die.

DOMITIUS.
Not yet!—oh that's the cause of my dismay!
Whip, whip me, rack me, tear me joint from joint,
But spare that youth,—at least till I am dead.

APPIUS.
The gods, it seems, have otherwise decreed;
And just now you shall see their wills obey'd,
Unless you—

DOMITIUS.
Unless I!—tell me, tell me, Appius;
For you, they say, are mildly merciful;
How can I ransom my Petronia's life?

APPIUS.
Petronia's life! What!

DOMITIUS.
O curse on my imprudence!
Curse on your art that worm'd the secret from me!
Oh no! you hinted I might yet redeem her!

APPIUS.
You may—

DOMITIUS.
I may—how? how? I'll die to save her!
Nay, more! I'll live, in bondage live to save

APPIUS.
And is that all?

DOMITIUS.
Alas! what can I more?

APPIUS.
Become my friend; become the friend of Rome
Turn not away, that that alone can save her.

DOMITIUS.
Away!

APPIUS.
Hold, hold, him!

DOMITIUS.
Wherefore did I parley?
I could expect no mercy from a Roman.

APPIUS.
Bring then Petronia.

[To the Lictors.
DOMITIUS.
Oh regard her sex!

APPIUS.
You can expect no mercy from a Roman.

DOMITIUS.
Regard her youth, her beauty's opening bloom—

APPIUS.
That youth, that bloom, shall fate the soldiers lust!

DOMITIUS.
The soldiers lust! gods, gods! damnation! furies!

APPIUS.
The very slaves shall banquet on her beauties
Before your face!

DOMITIUS.
Why sleep the bolts of Jove?
Before my very face! the very damn'd,
The very traitor, cannot feel such anguish!

APPIUS.
You now begin to think; that thought encourage.
Three hours I give you to consider of it.