University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

The Great Place of Capua; the Senate sitting by torch-light; a confused Mob of Citizens standing round in arms.
FIRST CITIZEN.
We'll have an archon.

SECOND CITIZEN.
Vibius shall be archon.

THIRD CITIZEN.
Choose Vibius archon.

ALL.
Or we fire the city:
We know him honest; he's no Roman traitor.

VIBIUS.

(Rising, makes a signal for silence.)

ALL.
Hear him! hear him!

VIBIUS.
Peace, gentle countrymen: Unless the Senate,
As the laws order, unconstrain'd, elect me,
I cannot, will not be supreme in Capua.

FIRST CITIZEN.
Then speak, Jubellius Taurea, but take care
Your grudge to Vibius warp not your discretion.

JUBELLIUS.
'Tis well:—and since your cautious wisdoms deem
That one should rule, or Capua is undone,
In me 'twould be irreverend to oppose you.
But know, my mighty statesmen, all your clamours,
Your looks and menaces, should ne'er constrain me
To give my voice, that one less wise and virtuous,
Less warm in combat, and less cool in council,
Than Vibius Virius, should be chosen archon.
The good and wise can ne'er be too supreme,
Too little clogg'd in the vast orb of office—
And that state's only free where such men govern.

BADIUS.
'Twas nobly spoken, like Jubellius spoken:
No private quarrels can induce the brave
To lessen the deservings of a foe.
But wherefore said I foe? The truly good,
'Spite of appearances, are friends at bottom.

JUBELLIUS.
But ere I give my voice to your election,—
[Addressing himself to Vibius.
I must entreat your hearing for a moment,
To my proposals your assent entreat.—
[Looking to the Senators.
Why stand these laurell'd statues in this place?
The heroes perish'd in defence of Capua;—
But are they single in the glorious deed?
The sons of Vibius perish'd for their country.
Vibius, thou had'st six illustrious sons,
The pride of arms, and copy of their father;
In our defence they fell; and say, shall we,
We who have need of every dauntless arm,
Less than our grandsires recompense th' undaunted?
Forbid it, Hercules! Then be't decreed,
That, crown'd with laurel, in triumphal robes,
They stand in brass, with Capua's heroes here.

CITIZENS.
In gold! we all will gladly bear the burden.

BADIUS.
The joy that smiles on every brow, declares
That every senator approves your purpose.

CITIZENS.
Now make Vibius archon.
(Here the heralds, upon a signal from Jubellius, proclaim him archon; he is solemnly invested with a robe of state and laurel crown, and while the lictors place the fasces and axe before him, the people shout.)
A Vibius, Vibius! now we'll beat the Romans!

VIBIUS.
Thanks, friends and citizens: My new preferment
More than rewards my every past exploit—
I'll not dispraise them, that were great presumption,
Since Capua deems they merit this distinction.
Again, I thank you, but more feeling thank you
For the vast honour to my sons decreed—
I had not prais'd them, though they died for Capua:
But since the brave Jubellius deigns to praise them,
I'll thank the gods each day, that they were born;
Each day I'll thank the gods they died so nobly.

HANNO.
Let this morn ever be accounted happy:
Rome built her only hope on your divisions.
The most puissant state, if rent by party,
Craft must, and impotence itself may conquer.
What then should Rome? This was my only fear;
But now, vain dread, I give you to the wind,
Since unanimity has hush'd to peace
Dissension's jarring tongues, and one so good
As my friend Vibius is elected archon;
To whom, in name of Carthage, sovereign city,
In name of Hannibal, my dread commander,
I swear, the troops committed to my charge
Shall with implicit cheerfulness obey.
And soon I hope, great Sir, by you conducted,
To pass again the Roman lines and trenches,
To plant my standard on the tent of Appius,
And in his bosom bury my keen falchion.

VIBIUS.
Thanks, noble Libyan! may your hopes be compass'd:
Had all their duty done as well as you,
Our foes had long ere now repass'd the mountains.

BLOSIUS.
Since all thus speech it, I must speech it too,
Though worse than aconite my soul abhors him.
[Aside.
If, since the senate met, I have not risen
To speak, till now, impute it not, patricians,
To my disapprobation of your conduct.
Where is the man that wishes well to Capua,
But in his heart applauds your exaltation?
Again the fathers will frequent the council;
Our noble youth again be clad in arms;
The headstrong, talkative, licentious rabble,
No more will brave the laws, and curse the senate:
Capua may yet become the seat of empire,
And Rome's proud fathers, kneeling, wait your orders.

JUBELLIUS.
This to effectuate, one law still is wanting;
Let him who first proposes to surrender,
By the most cruel, most ignoble death
That indignation can invent, be tortur'd.

ALL.
Decreed.

VIBIUS.
This hint, for which I thank you, bodes success;
Advice is the chief pillar of command;
Though rais'd above the laws, I solemn swear,
By your opinions still to guide my conduct.

[Enter a Carthaginian Tribune, who, after respectfully bowing to the Senate, addresses Vibius.
TRIBUNE.
The city wears a general face of joy.
I thought great Hannibal was at our gates;
But those imperial ensigns show the reasons.

VIBIUS.
To business, Tribune. What of the commands?

TRIBUNE.
You'll please to know that I have gone the rounds;
Each soldier watches, as if Capua's fate
Upon his single vigilance depended.
I saw the parties sally at each gate,
Silent as steals the day-spring from the east,
Thick as the clusters on yon sunny hills,
And swift as whirlwinds from the Appenines.
But swifter, closer, silenter, the troop
Led by Domitius, through the postern march'd.
With him your daughter, in a warrior's garb,
Bright'ning the face of horror, rode along.

BLOSIUS.
Petronia with him! that indeed is lucky.

[Aside.
VIBIUS.
I like not that; but must conceal my fears.
[Aside.
'Tis well, brave Tribune; to your post. My Lords,
Still for her sons, my much-lov'd Fulvia, sorrowing,
Last night, with tears, and earnest intercession,
Begg'd I would send her only child Petronia
Far from the din of battle, to her brothers.

BLOSIUS.
And need I tell you, that the son of Taurea
Is gone to meet the Libyan spy Maherbal;
Who from the victor of the Alps and Cannæ
Brings letters; which I hope he'll never see.

[Aside.
VIBIUS.
And may he speed as he was wont to do!
In that one hero my six sons survive.
Now by that star which ushers in the dawn,
By great Alcides, founder of our city,
By all our ancestors in battle slain,
But chief by those who fell last afternoon,
Whose spirits yet delay their flight to bliss,
And hover o'er us, anxious for our safety,
I swear (so Minos favour thou my shade!)
Ne'er to deliver Capua to the Romans.

SCENE II.

The Forum. Blosius and Badius.
BADIUS.
This is unfortunate, and may prevent
Our grand design.

BLOSIUS.
Retard, but not prevent;
At least I hope so. Hark! the people shout.

BADIUS.
Curse on their shouts! This Vibius is their idol;
And yet our nobles foolishly respect him.
Had the most perfect amity, for ages,
Link'd our progenitors, I could not love him.
When to my out-stretch'd hands, and ravish'd eyes,
Her golden, long-woo'd lures, Ambition held,
And I, in fancy, clutch'd them; in stepp'd Vibius,
And, proudly shoving me, the whole appropriates.

BLOSIUS.
Inopportune he snatch'd them; but though force
Cannot pluck off her honours from his brow,
Art may unclasp them with her secret magic.

BADIUS.
You have my thought, my friend, and since I could not,
With speech and glosing, hinder his election,
I seem'd his friend.

BLOSIUS.
I also seem'd his friend;
And both judg'd wisely; from his breast 'twill banish
The Argus-fiend, Suspicion, and we both
Into the core of his heart's thoughts may worm us,
And we may still serve Rome, and serve ourselves.

BADIUS.
I'm glad to see him so resolv'd.
[Aside.
We may, we must; but see, Jubellius,
[Vibius and Jubellius cross the stage.
Vibius and he are reconcil'd indeed.

BLOSIUS.
Their reconcilement points a deadly blow,
Which if not broken, must to pieces shiver
Our pillar'd purpose. Both are foes to Rome.
But then Jubellius is a haughty spirit;
Of honour nice, and not to be controul'd;
Proud of his birth; to his opinions wedded.

BADIUS.
They never long agreed, and will not now;
And if they should—

BLOSIUS.
We must unite more firmly.
But what from Appius? has he sent no answer?

BADIUS.
Last night, as darkness hush'd the din of war,
And slaughter on his batter'd helm repos'd,
I had a message from the Consul Appius;—
The terms he proffers we may well accept.
Then be't your care, ere noon, to reassemble
Our secret friends;—meanwhile I go to meet
Pentheus.

BLOSIUS.
What! our archon's trusty freedman?

BADIUS.
The very same; yet, fear not; he's my friend.

SCENE III.

A Council of War in the Prætorium; the axe, fasces, and other ensigns of two Proconsuls.
APPIUS.
Who would have thought that Capua the dissolute,
Could thus withstand the effort of our arms?
Thrice thirty times the sun has flam'd in heaven,
Since by our troops that city was invested;
And yet the dawn has oft with blushes seen
Her sons perfum'd, in Coan silks attir'd,
Drunk with Falernian, on loose harlots doating;
Their ancient fires, instead of sage discourse,
Prate of amours, and pass their noons at dice;
Or at day-feasts, for which they ransack nature,
With myrtle crown'd, compose lewd Oscian odes,
Or die with raptures at a minstrel's screaming:
Yet now, as if their temper quite was chang'd,
They brave fatigue like us, like us they combat.—
Whence can this change proceed? Rome loudly murmurs;
The fathers, chiding, threat to send Marcellus.
Have I, or Fulvius, in our conduct fail'd?
Or have the legions been remiss in duty?

DUILLIUS.
And let Rome murmur, let the fathers chide,
You both have acted as became proconsuls;
Their lov'd Marcellus could not have done better.
And where's the Roman that has basely fled?
Would I could see these gownmen in the field,
Those chamber-generals, those forum heroes;
Who, with their tropes and metaphors, invest,
Assault, and sack an Ilium in a moment.
Is't such a joy to freeze with nightly damps,
To melt in arms beneath the burning noon,
Expos'd to hourly toils, to hourly perils,
To want, to thirst, to watching?

APPIUS.
Hold, Duillius:
And know, brave youth, we are our country's servants;
Those toils, those perils, are the soldier's triumph!—
Your sentiments, my Paulus.

PAULUS.
'Twould much afflict me, most renown'd proconsuls,
And ye, my hardy seniors of the war,
Could I your conduct, or your courage blame:
Too light the senate deems revolted Capua;
Too light her numerous sons.—Her sons
Were ne'er more wanton than they now are warlike.
But whence can spring this change? from desperation.
Soon as our troops have forc'd their gates, they fear
To see their fathers butcher'd, daughters ravish'd;
To see their sons enslav'd, and dragg'd in triumph:
Then let us offer milder terms of peace;
Rome, Appius Claudius, yet have friends in Capua.

FULVIUS.
The plan you hint at, is the very reason
That rebel Capua braves our every effort.
The terms we offer are by much too mild;
So very mild, they scoff'd at those who brought them.
Did not the Capuans barbarously murder
A Roman garrison, our kindred-soldiers?
Their, their revolt, made Cannæ fatal to us;
Their, their revolt, seduc'd our ancient allies.
Without their wealth, the Libyan, long ere now,
Must, with his venal bands, have fled to Carthage.
Then break we off all correspondence with them;
With vigour push the siege, all pris'ners kill,
Nor quarter take nor give: The Latian name,
Rome's injur'd genius, this revenge demands.

APPIUS.
Pedanius, speak.

PEDANIUS.
Let us attempt some other way to conquer:—
Think not I mean we should the siege abandon;
Fulvius will not suspect me for a coward.
He knows, when he had bid his troops retire,
I flung my standard into Hanno's camp,
O'erleap'd the rampart, and regain'd the battle,
With wounds regain'd. But more than all my wounds,
My adverse wounds, I prize this oaken garland;
It shows in battle that I sav'd a Roman.
My country prize it too, supremely prize it;
And why? most wisely have the laws ordain'd,
A warlike state's chief buckler is her numbers:
But if to save one citizen's such glory,
Thousands to save, and without bloodshed vanquish,
Must it not be transcendently more glorious?
But how can the proconsuls save, yet conquer?
Rome, that still weeps o'er Cannæ's murder'd myriads,
Our legions slain, since we that place invested,
Yet boasts, untouch'd, Hetruria's conquer'd spoils:
Buy friends with part, corrupt the Capuan senate;
They are luxurious, therefore must be venal.

ASSELLIUS.
Though young, already I have liv'd too long,
If Rome, predestin'd to command the world,
Must buy the conquest of one rebel city.
How would our sons indignant read the tale!
Two Roman armies, led by two proconsuls,
At arms unable to contend with Capua,
With gold and cunning purchas'd its reduction.
Quirinus shudders from his blest abodes,
And Mars half curses his degenerate offspring.
With gold and cunning let the dastard fight,
With gold and cunning purchase base advantage;
The truly valiant all success disclaim,
But what broad day-light, and their arms afford.

Enter an Augur.
AUGUR.
Health to our generals! Victory to Rome.

APPIUS.
All hail, divine interpreter of Heaven!

AUGUR.
As lately on the eastern mount I stood,
Clad in the holy vestments of my order,
And into quarters, with my rod, divided
The flecker'd hemisphere, a crow from Capua
Flew, cawing, east: I trembled at the omen;
When, lo! Jove's eagle, darting from the west,
Soon in his talons truss'd the bird obscene,
And in an instant dropp'd it at my feet.

Enter an Haruspex.
HARUSPEX.
Long live our generals! Soon may Capua fall!

FULVIUS.
All hail! you speak in doubt, and look confus'dly.

HARUSPEX.
As at the altar for success I pray'd,
And a fair victim, deck'd with sacred fillets,
Stood ready for the sacrificer's axe,
Just as his arm was heav'd to smite the ox,
The beast spurn'd sudden, from the altar burst,
The holy cup o'erturn'd, and fled to Capua.

ASSELLIUS.
Be not dismay'd; they should have bound him then.
Let us to arms; the soldiers need not know it.
From reason, not from signs, true courage springs;
His country's welfare is the soldier's omen!

[Exit Appius.

SCENE IV.

A Grove in Capua.
BADIUS.
Left him disgusted! Pentheus, you transport me!
Why, this outflies the soaring of my hope:
Continue ever to be faithful thus,
You may command my wealth, the wealth of Rome.
And here he comes: Soft, Pentheus; steal away.
I'll mark Jubellius ere I do accost him.
[Goes aside.
'Tis so, each feature boils with indignation.

SCENE V.

Archon's Palace.
Vibius and Fulvia.
VIBIUS.
Yes, Fulvia, 'twas precipitate! O think,
Should she, the last of all our numerous issue,
Thy youth's fair picture, and my age's solace,
Fall into Roman hands!

FULVIA.
Forbid it, Heavens!
The death of all my sons were nought to that!
Petronia seem'd reluctant, and I forc'd her.
[Aside.
Her troop was trusty, and Domitius loves her;
She'll get, ne'er doubt, with safety to Tarentum;
And sure I am she was not safe in Capua.

VIBIUS.
'Tis true, my daughter was not safe in Capua;
My house is most abhorr'd of Rome and Fulvius:
But then I'd ta'en a fitter time to send her.
The Romans know that Hannibal's expected,
And will patrole the passes to Tarentum.

FULVIA.
Yet oft our troops and messengers have pass'd;
Her courser was of Afric's swiftest breed;—
And yet I fear me! would I had not sent her!
[Aside.
I'll to the temple, and implore the gods,
With vows and incense her escape implore.

VIBIUS.
Heaven hear your vows!

SCENE VI.

The Vestibule of the Palace.
TRIBUNE.
This is his palace, most unhappy Father!
And here he comes.

VIBIUS.
Gloomy and sad that honest tribune looks,
Although he comes with captives. How now, Bostar?

TRIBUNE.
Would it had been, my Lord, another's fate,
To tell th' unpleasing tale; but sure I sought
Thrice, at the peril of my life, to save
The beautiful Petronia.

VIBIUS.
Is she slain?

CITIZENS.
Forbid it, Jove! She was the pride of Capua.

VIBIUS.
She is! hold, heart! and yet the soldiers weep:
And he who frown'd but now, that Roman weeps too!
Most wretched parent, what now boot these trappings?
They cannot still Affection's pang-torn bosom!
Most wretched, wretched! yet suppress thy tears;
Thy tears should only for the public flow.

BADIUS.
Now, thank ye, gods! 'tis just as I could wish.

[Aside.
VIBIUS.
Tribune, proceed; you say my daughter's slain:
Where is Domitius? did he basely fly?

TRIBUNE.
No, my good Lord, his many wounds bear witness,
He fought it like himself. My friend's a pris'ner.

CITIZENS.
Alas! who'll now conduct our troops to conquest!

VIBIUS.
The manner how, relate.

TRIBUNE.
When, from my post, I saw his band engag'd,
And that I should not, much I knew imported,
I flew with all my party to his rescue.

VIBIUS.
Well.

TRIBUNE.
Our soldiers did their duty; thrice repell'd
Superior numbers, by this youth conducted;
This youth who look'd a Mars, and often cried,
No quarter, Romans, to rebellious Capua.
With more terrific port, Domitius flew
To every part, and strew'd the field with Romans.
Oft was he wounded, but from every wound,
He seem'd like Hydra to regain new vigour.

VIBIUS.
Sure, then, my daughter might have got away.

TRIBUNE.
She did attempt in vain; the secret passes
Were glutted every where with ambush'd Romans;
You would have thought instructions had been sent them.

BADIUS.
How well the Libyan guesses.

[Aside.
TRIBUNE.
What should she do? Regardful of her sire,
And strength deriving from her borrow'd garb,
With nimble force, she wrung a reeking poniard
From an expiring foe; the combat thicken'd;
Meantime, new cohorts from the camp advancing,
Thy daughter, spite of my renew'd attempts,
Was made a pris'ner, with the brave Domitius.

VIBIUS.
Then she is still alive: I'm not so wretched;
I yet may clasp the comfort of my age.
Oh, no! Fear dashes from my lips thy cup,
Delusive Hope! and makes me more unhappy.
My lovely Lucrece in a Roman camp,
'Mid hostile Tarquins! Would she had been slain!
O how this news will wring my Fulvia's heart!
I strive in vain, and Nature must prevail.
But witness, Capua, no domestic loss
Ere forc'd one tear from Vibius' eyes till now.
Her filial sweetness soften'd all my cares,
And made the horrors of a siege e'en pleasing.
Proceed—I think I now can hear with calmness.

TRIBUNE.
Short is the sequel: When all lost I saw,
I bade my party leisurely retire.
Slaughter was fully gorg'd. Of all the Romans,
None but this hero my retreat oppos'd,
Him haply Fortune made at last my pris'ner.

TITUS.
When made your pris'ner, 'twas my firm resolve
Death to have ask'd, if ere I spoke in Capua:
But Vibius' tears have baffled my resolves,
An old man's tears, and fair Petronia's father.
Oft have I seen at Rome the lovely maid,
With transport seen; my sister was her friend.
She far surpass'd my fancy's fairest picture,
The dream of poets, or the wish of love.
But when I heard her talk, with wisdom's strength,
Yet soft as Philomel's eve-warbled song,
I deem'd her perfect frame too rude a casket
For such a peerless jewel as her soul.
I lov'd: I made her conscious of my flame.—
But, wherefore, Capuans, do I thus detain you?
Lead me to death; ye cannot trust the son
Of Fulvius Flaccus;—yet, perhaps,—
Although the Romans have decreed to kill
Each Capuan prisoner, I might save Petronia.

CITIZENS.
Quick! tell the means.

TITUS.
She may be kill'd already.

CITIZENS.
Speak! speak!

TITUS.
Permit me to return to Fulvius;
I am his only son; at my request,
Love is all-eloquent, he'll save Petronia.

BADIUS.
That must never be; but what says Vibius?

[Aside.
VIBIUS.
Although I've heard this young man's virtue prais'd,
And though my daughter's in a Roman camp,
Prudence would not permit me to advise you,
(For in this consult ye shall be supreme)
To send back Titus, did I not consider
The prime of Capuan heroes, brave Domitius,
May yet be ransom'd.

BADIUS.
Why send back Titus? Send, my Lord, a herald.—
Trust me, if once he pass the Capuan lines,
Flaccus will not permit him to return,
But wreck his vengeance on our wretched captives.

[The Citizens assent by shouts, &c.
VIBIUS.
Be't so; I'll send a herald with instructions.—
You, Tribune, use your pris'ner with distinction;
Mercy should ever wield the sword of courage.
[Here loud screams are heard within the Palace, Vibius starts and cries,
What may these screams import? Again!—Again!
Connubial Juno, guard my Fulvia's life!
I'll hasten in. O Jove, my freedman comes!
His stride, distraction! anguish in his eye!
He loves me much. My Fulvia must be ill.
What mean thy looks and haste? Speak, Pentheus, speak!

PENTHEUS.
My Lord, your wife is dead!

VIBIUS.
Dead! Oh! (Swoons.)


CITIZENS.
Alas! we all have lost a friend in Fulvia.
She was—O heavens! our archon too is dead!

PENTHEUS.
Though I detest him, I am still a man.
[Aside.
Bear him, good citizens; he breathes again.

CITIZENS.
Thank Heaven!

VIBIUS.
Dead! Fulvia dead! Oh tell the fatal cause—
But wherefore do I ask? it was Petronia.

PENTHEUS.
Too true, my Lord; when at Diana's fane
She was informed of her daughter's death—

VIBIUS.
My daughter is not dead—Oh wretched man!
I should have sent to let her know the truth.

PENTHEUS.
From the priest's hands she dash'd the holy censer;
Shudder'd the awful image from her shrine;
The temple shook; aghast the pontiff stood:
Then wing'd with anguish, soon the palace reach'd;
There every look confirming the sad tale,
She beat her bosom, shriek'd, and swoon'd away.

VIBIUS.
O most unhappy, inconsiderate wretch!

PENTHEUS.
From this, by lenient arts, at last recovering,
She call'd us cruel, not to let her die;
Then, sudden bursting from her weeping train,
Against the floor she dash'd her head, and fainted.
We thought her dead; her silver locks dropp'd blood;
A while, my Lord, vast sorrow 'rest our speech:
At last, a yell, by dismal groans preceded,
From each rack'd bosom burst, and brought back life,
Just quivering on her lips.—
She gaz'd around her with a stupid wildness,
And seem'd to wonder at our tears—yet spoke not;
But soon new vigour darting from her eye,
She flew, and catching in her arms the statue
Of fair Petronia, into laughter burst;
And speaking, with a tenderness of transport,
“Do I again my lovely daughter clasp?
“No more we part; the Romans shall not kill you.”
Then weeping wild, as if she'd found her error,
She sunk upon the pavement, and expir'd.

VIBIUS.
Expir'd!—then my Fulvia weeps no more,
And all her sorrows to my hoard are added.
Yes, I will hug them with a savage fondness.

CITIZENS.
Alas! alas! you have too just a cause!
Too just a cause have we to sympathise!
Who now will wipe the tear from Sorrow's cheek?
Who in the house of Want bid Plenty pour
Her buxom comforts, with unsparing bounty?

VIBIUS.
My friends, you see a branchless single trunk,
Whose pith Affliction with her teeth has eaten.
Why was my life reserv'd for this distress?
In what have I, dread gods, deserv'd your anger?
Would I were dead!—and what prevents my wish?
[Going off.
The measure of my wretchedness o'erflows.
A heart, a hand, a dagger, I possess.—
Man's breath is not his own, but his who lent it.
Nay, could I quit this mortal frame unpunish'd,
I'm trusted, greatly by my country trusted;
Upon my shoulders Capua leans for safety!—
Then whatsoe'er misfortunes Jove decrees,
I'll bear resign'd. By this the son of Jove,
Our great progenitor, attain'd the skies.