University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter P. Num. Caius.
Cai.
Oh honour'd Sir!

P. Num.
oh Caius welcome! oh a thousand welcomes!
But where's Icilius, speak?

Cai.
Ye Gods! what dire Calamity has happen'd?
I never saw you thus disturb'd before.

P. Num.
Oh! I have reason! yes we all have reason;
But once more where's Icilius?

Cai.
He only staid to see the Forces March,
And then resolv'd to post away to Rome.

P. Num.
What meanst thou?

Cai.
I left the Army furling all their Standards,
And ordering all things for a speedy March,
To meet the other Army on Mount Aventine.

P. Num.
The Gods be prais'd, then Rome's to morrow free,
But oh! Virginia will be lost to Night,
Do thou post back, and spur thy Courser hard,
And bid Icilius hast to save Virginia.

Cai.
What must I say her danger is?

P. Num.
Oh I want time to inform thee; I must fly
As fast as these old feeble Limbs will let me,
And whisper to Virginia what I have heard,
Our only hope now lies in gaining time.

Cai.
But I with speed came here before Icilius
To summon you, Horatius, and Valerius,
To meet him an Hour hence at his own House.

P. Num.
To urge that meeting be thy Father's care;
From hence I'll to the Tyrant's black Tribunal,
Then find Valerius and Horatius out,
Now busied in associating our Romans.
T'assert their Country's freedom, and their own.

[Exeunt.
SCENE Draws Appius, Claudius, Virginia, Cornelia, Attendants. Guards discover'd.
App.
What the Complainant urges you have heard,
She whom you call Virginia is his Slave,
Born of his legal Slave in his own House;
From thence convey'd almost as soon as born,
At the request of her reputed Mother,
Wife to Virginius, thence suppos'd her own,
And as her own brought up; this Fulvius urges,
And this he binds himself to prove as soon
As from Mount Algidum Virginius comes,
Where he commands as Præfect of a Legion,
Till he returns then she remains with Fulvius.

Claud.
With Fulvius?

Corn.
Tyrant no!

Virg.
The Gods forbid!

App.
Till he appears who has right t'assert her Freedom,
The Slave must in her Master's Power remain,
So says the Law, and what that says is Justice.

Virg.
That I'm a Slave can never be deny'd,
But, thanks to Appius, so is every Roman;
Nay Rome our sacred Mother is no more,
But tho' She is now a Slave, thou found'st Her Free,
And I with Her had Liberty retain'd,
Had Appius either Gratitude of Justice:
But thou may'st find that still 'tis in my Power,
To free my self, and Rome. Oh great Lucretia!

Claud.
Hear her! Is this the Language of a Slave?
Art thou the Judge of Rome? Think, think, O Appius,
The Father will be sent for, and consider,
That Father once was thy most valued Friend,
And endless were thy Obligations to him.
How wilt thou bear his vast and boundless Grief,
The Grief of such a Father, one so nice
So tender of the Honour of his House,
And of his Child so fond, he lives in her,
He doats, and knows no joy in Life but her;
How wilt thou bear his Looks, by Nature aweful,
Now render'd terrible by mortal Wrong.
How wilt thou bear Icilins's wrathful Eyes,
And the o'erflowing Torrent of his Rage?

App.
I fear him not.

Claud.
If not for fear, at least for pity spare him;
For what a Grief, and what a Loss will his be?
Let cruel Appius take his place a Moment,
And be the Lover of this charming Maid.

App.
I her Lover!

Claud.
Does that offend thee? Cast thy Eyes around,
And view this numerous People, view them nearly,
View thy own Guards, see who are not her Lovers,
See how with Eyes and Hearts they all adore her.
Now take a stedfast View of her thy self.
Ha! thou art struck, yes by the Gods thou'rt caught,
And Love triumphant sits upon thy Brow.

App.
Mov'd, but not alter'd.

Claud.
Yes, thou this Moment hast a Heart of Flesh,
And art not more inhumane than thy Murderers?
How can'st thou then resolve the very next
To throw off Nature; be a cursed Fiend,
T'inflict a Torment which Hell never knew,
For if Virginia's given to this wretch;
To be by him abandon'd to the Power
Of some more glorious Villain, who suborns him,
Who proudly thinks he has a Right t'enjoy
What e'er his fancy unconfin'd desires,
And whose licentious Will's his only Law;
Consider how thou robb'st her in a Moment
Of all that e'er was counted dear to Mortals,
Her Friends, Relations, Father, Lover, Country,
All lost, and all at once!
O fathomless Abyss of endless woe!
O infinitely miserable Maid!

App.
You've spoke at large, and we have heard with patience,
Nor would I here before the Roman People
Disgrace the Eldest of the Claudian race!
Uninterrupted therefore have you spoke.
But you presume too much on this relation,
And to discharge this Slave wou'd raise the People.
All we can do for her, and for Virginius,
Is to secure her honourable Usage
Till his return; which here we strictly promise.
So Fulvius take your Slave.

Claud.
O Tyrant!

Corn.
O Villain! amazing Villain!

Virg.
Ye Powers who view the inmost Thoughts of Mortals,
What have I done to merit this?

Enter Publius Numitorius.
P. Num.
Ha! pale and trembling, and astonish'd all.
Icilius comes, gain all the time you can,
And sooth this impious Judge.

Virg.
Lord Appius, I have things of highest moment
Of which I must inform you, and adjure you
To give me Audience e'er you leave the Forum.

[Exeunt.
Manet Appius, Virginia, Guards.
App.
Guards keep at distance.
What are your Commands?

Virg.
Look upon me well;
Appius, thou know'st me not, for if thou did'st
Thou wou'd'st not, nay thou coud'st not use me thus.
Is then last Night so utterly forgot?

App.
No, never, never, will it be forgot.

Virg.
Then by the Terrors of that dreadful Death
From which thou wert deliver'd by my Hand,
By the more dreadful Torments of the Damn'd
By which you swore, and which even then had seiz'd you,
Had not I cast a Look of mercy on you,
Revoke this cruel and unjust Decree.

App.
That upon you depends, for be but mine
And you're not only Free, but Great and Glorious.

Virg.
You know you ask what is not in my Power,
I have already told you I'm another's.

App.
Damnation light on him! What cursed charm,
What Philter has he us'd to touch thy Heart?

Virg.
The Charm, the Philter, which he us'd was Love.

App.
Let it be try'd by Love who best deserves thee,
And he is lost, undone.
A formal Wedlock, and an equal Dowry,
Are the dull Proofs that every Fool can give
Of a gross vulgar Passion: but fond Maid,
What has he done? What has he suffer'd for you?
The greatest Sacrifice that Man can make
To Woman, not to Goddess, is Ambition;
That darling of my Soul to you I Sacrifice,
And for the passing Pleasure of a Moment
At once I venture Empire, Life, and Fame.
For well I know the act to which you force me,
Will soon endanger all.

Virg.
I force you?

App.
Yes, Cruel, to despair and dye you force me,
And shew no pity in the very Hour
When for your self you ask it e'en of me.

Virg.
Why do you ask such things I dare not think of?
And much less hear?

App.
He who can sacrifice Ambition to you,
Will sacrifice the World, and therefore know,
That all that I desire, is Holy, Just;
Marriage shall join us by its sacred Rites,
And you my Heart and Empire shall command.

Virg.
Patritians still must Marry with Patritians,
'Tis your own Law; my Father's no Patritian.

App.
That Obstacle's remov'd, he shall be made one,
And be with Riches and with Honours Crown'd.

Virg.
Such generous Offers at the least require,
That I with Freedom shou'd disclose my Heart;
My Father, Uncle, all my Friends are Patriots,
And would disown me, should I Marry one
Who has Enslav'd their Country and themselves.

App.
Ev'n that Impediment I will remove;
Swear thou art mine, and Rome this Hour is free,
To purchase thee I'll part with dear bought Empire,
And am content you should continue Cruel
Till you behold the Roman People Rule,
And brave Virginius Tribune of the People.

Virg.
Nay, then I pity thee.

App.
Speak on! O Musick that Enchants my Soul!
Rise one Step higher, pronounce a softer Word.

Virg.
I never can.

App.
O yes, you must, you must ev'n now; I adjure you
By all that more than Human Grace that flows from you,
By the soft God who takes his Pow'r from you,
And in your Eyes as in his Heav'n resides,
And by the Pow'r of Death from which you sav'd me,
O save me not by halves, for still I Dye!
Nay more than Dye, for I but Live to Pain,
Pain without hope, the Life the Damn'd endure:
But tho' the Damn'd ne'r hope, they never Love.
In me Desire adds Torment to Despair,
But O! a Word, a Smile, a Glance from you
Has pow'r to raise me up from more than Death,
And turn the more than Hell I feel, to Heav'n.

Virg.
O Words that might allure a worthier Maid!
Oh! Lucius! how thou Triumph'st in my Heart!
Yet grant me one thing, and we both are happy.

App.
Ha! Name it, and tis yours.

Virg.
As you to Love have Sacrific'd Ambition;
Oh Make another yet more noble Sacrifice,
And to your Reason, offer up your Love.

App.
Is that in Appius power?

Virg.
Not in your pow'r.

App.
No, can a feeble Mortal resist Heav'n?
The Gods, the Gods, ferment this mad Desire.

Virg.
Make not the Gods the Authors of your Crimes,
They gave you reason to subdue your Passions.

App.
Yes, all but those that from themselves are sent;
But they come rushing with resistless fury,
While reason to Divinity gives way.
I hate my self for this detested Passion;
And my Heart bleeds within my Breast for thee,
O thou Divinest, and thou best of Maids,
And thou most wretched, I could Die to save thee;
Yet I, I ruine thee, for I must on;
Yes, I am goaded on by Mortal stings.
O I am stung to Madness! O Damnnation!
All Hell, all Hell, is in my burning Entrails,
I'll bear no more, I must, I will have ease.
Look down, look down, whatever God thou art,
Who driv'st poor Appius on to his sad Fate,
Behold ev'n now, thy cruel Will obey'd.

Virg.
O Heav'n! his sparkling bloody Eyes look wild,
Look terrible. Now, now ye Powers assist me.

App.
Now speak for the last time, will you be mine?
Will you, the Daughter of the brave Virginius,
To Rome and Glory, Sacrifice your Passion?

Virg.
You ask me e'n to Sacrifice my Virtue;
And that must last when Rome shall be no more.

App.
If Coy Denial is the Womans virtue,
Then vigorous Force must be the manly Lover's,
The Virtue of a Heroe and a God:
By my great Soul, spight of fantastick Pride,
Or more fantastick Love, I will possess thee;
Possess thee as our Romulus Hersilia;
Or greater Mars did Romulus's Mother:
Why shou'd a Monarch shrink from such a deed
As was the glorious Fountain of his Empire?

Virg.
I'll hear no more.

App.
Here Fulvius take your Slave.

Virg.
Villain, approach me not.
Thus Fate from cruel Fortune sets me free
Ah Gods! My Lucius with his Friends appears,
[Shout.
Now Love and Life for me, and for Thee Tyrant this.

[Throws the Dagger at him.
App.
Ha!
He comes indeed, and with a potent Guard;
And shall he tear her from me then at last?
Oh no! confusion no! Fly, Fulvius, fly,
Fly for thy Patron's Life and for thy own,
And bring the Cohort quickly to my aid,
That now keeps Guard upon the Mount of Jove.

Ful.
I fly.

[Exit.

SCENE. V.

Enter L. Icilius, M. Icilius, Cornelia, Horatius, Val. P. Num. and C. Num. Guards.
Virg.
My Lucius!

L. Icil.
My Soul!

Virg.
My Life!
Oh never, never let us part again!

L. Icil.
No, only Death shall ever part us more.

App.
Confusion! How they cleave to one another!
How their transported Souls before my Face,
Meet at their burning Eyes, their humid Lips;
How thirstily he drinks her balmy Breath,
As he could quench his Feaver with the draught.
Oh the tormenting sight! Ho, Guards divide them.

Icil.
He who comes near us, comes upon his Death.
Curse on your idle Bugbears made for shew;
Do you think to frighten Men with empty Scarecrows?
No, if thou would'st divide us, come thy self;
Compleat the number of thy monstrous Crimes,
And find the Vengeance of the Gods in me.

App.
How dar'st thou thus audaciously to threat
The chief of all the Roman Magistrates,
Ev'n while the Rods and Axes are in view?

L. Icil.
Retire, my Life, a while with good Cornelia,
[Exeunt Virginia, Cornelia.
And at thy Father's House expect me soon.
Now, how dar'st thou who art no Magistrate,
Thy time of Legal Sway being long expir'd,
Threat thy Superiours with the Rods and Axes?

App.
My Superiours!

L. Icil.
Yes, every honest Roman's thy Superiour.

App.
By Hell I'll punish this audacious Insolence.

L. Icil.
No, sooner dar'st thou leap a precipice,
Thou and thy Coward Instruments of Cruelty:
Think not to fright us with thy Blustring Pride,
For thou art only proud because thou'rt mad:
What hast thou to exalt thee but thy Crimes?
And Crimes at which a Man endu'd with Reason
Would Blush, and hide his Ignominious Head.
Yes, thou art Proud because thou art a Tyrant,
That is the most Detested thing in Nature:
Proud that thou art chosen by the Angry Gods
To be the Scourge of Rome, without reflecting,
That could those Gods have found one worse than thee,
They would have chosen him.

Val.
To shew that thou wert rais'd by Wrath Divine,
The Burning Pestilence foreran thy Sway.

Hor.
And War and Famine were its dire Attendants.

L. Icil.
Yet has thy Cruelty been more destructive
Than War, Plague, Famine, that in triple League
Joyn'd their Confed'rate Horrors; nay, what's worse,
While thou hast been a most Indulgent Foe,
Witness the Sabines and the Insulting Æqui,
Most Barbarous hast thou been to thy best Friends;
First to the Roman People, thy Creators,
Whom thou hast vex'd with every vile Oppression,
Next to old brave Virginius and to me,
At whose request th'Assembled People chose thee:
Then to his Daughter, who but the last Night
Preserv'd thee tottering on the Brink of Fate,
When twenty Souls resolv'd had Vow'd thy Death,
And twenty Daggers trembled at thy Heart.

App.
Ha! for a Knowledge of the Men who bore them?

L. Icil.
One of them I'll discover to thee instantly,
And of the Foremost, and the Boldest one.

App.
You dare not.

L. Icil.
Tyrant, I dare, I will.

App.
His Name?

L. Icil.
Oh! That his Name were Fatal as his Arm,
And with the very Sound could strike thee Dead;
Thus would I thunder in thy Ears Icilius.

App.
Ha! Traytor?

L. Icil.
He's, He's the Traytor,
Who has broke all Trust with Earth, all Oaths with Heaven;
And laugh'd at the vain Gods, by which he swore.

App.
Thou shalt die for it.

Val.
We'll die with Lucius all.

App.
Perhaps ye may, perhaps ye all deserve it;
Perhaps ye all are guilty equally.

All.
All, all guilty equally.

App.
Why then ye all shall die, here seize them Guards.

All.
Let them come on.

Val.
Yes, let them come, and the first Man who stirs—
Let's all at once upon the Tyrant rush,
And tear his Heart from his accursed Bosom.

L. Icil.
Let us prevent them, rush upon them all,
And kill the Tyrant and his Guards together,
And shew our selves the Sons of our brave Fathers:
Oh Mutius! where's thy God-like Spirit now?
Could'st thou inspir'd by Love for Rome and Glory,
Alone attack Porsenna midst his Army?
And shall not we, to whom great Jove has given
Spirit to assert his own Majestick Cause,
Which is the Cause of Liberty and Rome,
Dare to assault this Traytor to them both,
Defended only by twelve Scarlet Rogues?

App.
Down, Swelling Heart! Repress thy mighty Rage,
Till Fulvius brings the Cohort to thy Aid;
And then thou shal't be gorg'd with dire Revenge.
By Heaven he comes! with hasty Steps he comes,
And with him my Deliverers.
Hold, will ye turn base Assassines at last?

L. Icil.
To Assassinate, belongs to Appius only:
Hark how Dentatus Blood cryes out for Vengeance!
Since thou hast Banish'd written Law from Rome,
We come the Ministers of Natures Law,
Th'Executors of Jove's eternal Will;
To punish thee a Tyrant and a Murtherer,
The Publick Foe of Rome and of Mankind.

Val.
Let's Sacrifice him strait to great Revenge!

Hor.
To Rome.

C. Num.
To Liberty.

L. Icil.
Vengeance and Death arm every Hand! fall on.

All.
Fall on, fall on.

L. Icil.
What's this I see? O Murd'ring disappointment!

App.
What? do you recoil, and shun the Gods you invoke?
Vengeance and Death you see advance to meet you,
Vengeance and Death are Ministers of Fate,
And 'tis the Frown of Appius that is Fate.
Oh! have I calm'd this Tempest of your Souls!
Here seize them! Nay, resistance is in vain:
A hundred Hands are arm'd against your Lives.
Twice in the space of one resolving Sun
Ye basely have attempted on my Life,
What Mercy then can ye expect or hope?

L. Icil.
Mercy from Thee!

Val.
How we disdain the Thought:

Hor.
What! owe our Lives to Thee!

L. Icil.
To Jove alone we'll owe them,
Jove will protect these Sacred Walls and us.

M. Icil.
Or will Revenge us, and will Punish thee.
The Army is in a full March from Algidum,
Eager and Furious to depose thee, Appius,
And in two Hours the foremost will be here.

App.
You think to fright me: Grant that this were true,
My Empire still exceeds thy shorter Date,
Thou shalt not live an Hour; away with them,
And give the Prefect of the Prison charge
That all things be got ready for their Deaths;
Half of you Guard them to the Prison Gates,
The rest to Old Virginia's House must haste,
And bring the Slave that's call'd his Daughter hither.

[Exeunt all, but Appius and Fulvius Guards.
App.

[Exit.