University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

RUBRIUS, APRONIUS, SESTIUS fuddled.
Apronius.
This is a noble feast. I would the giver
Had been prevail'd upon to drink more freely.
He still evaded, press him how we could.

Rubrius.
Curse his sobriety! it is so obstinate,
It looks as he suspected our design.

Sestius.
For his sobriety, why that's unpardonable;
In all the rest he seems an honest fellow.

Apronius.
Sestius, thy wine recoils upon thyself.
We'll try again; and, while they spunge the tables,
Take care you call for wine. Oh! here they are.

SCENE II.

Enter PHILODAMUS and VERRES.
Philodamus.
We are not so deficient in your history,
But that some very venerable names,
Curius, Cincinnatus, and Fabricius;
Brutus, and Regulus, and Scipio;
With others of like fame; transmit their rays,
Thro' distance and the difference of language,
To influence and light our Grecian world.

Verres.
Ay, those were characters fit for those times;
Were they to live again, they would be wiser,
Or else incur the penalty, and starve.
Their ignorance we've complimented honesty.
What was their merit in despising riches
They had no use for, as they knew no luxury?

Philodamus.
Strange! that the probity, which wrought your greatness,
Should not maintain its estimation with you.

Rubrius.
My noble guest, and very lib'ral host,
Suppose, the while they reinstate the chamber,
We call'd for wine. Philodamus grows serious.

Philodamus.
Not in the least; far from it.

Rubrius.
[Table with Wine.
Bring some wine;
Pour to my landlord here. Why, my good friend,
There's nought defective in your hospitality,
But that you baulk too much the social bowl,
And are not chearful. We embarrass you.

Philodamus.
Oh! not at all.

Verres.
Trust me, I fear we do.

Sestius.
What! flinch a sober cup! we'll no excess;
I hate a drunkard worse than you can do.

Philodamus.
I am but in the place of a first butler,
Who must keep sober, to observe his master.

Apronius.
But you disgrace the office. Why, a butler
Drinks twice, in quantity and quality,
His master's draught.

Philodamus.
Have me excus'd, I pray you,
Take your own freedom, and allow me mine.

Sestius.
Freemen are friends to drink. Look ye, your slave
Fears to unbar his breast. Now wine commits,
As 'twere, a kind of rape upon his secrets.

Philodamus.
Let me put no restraint upon your pleasures;
But for myself—We eat not the same weight,
Why then oblig'd to drink by the same measure?

Verres.
Press we our host no more. There is a time
When a dull clog hangs on our flagging spirits;
A listlessness, and an indisposition
To mirth, and all the chearful ways of men,
Which wayward struggles 'gainst its remedy,
As patients nauseate the draught that cures them.
I have known music have a great effect
In dissipating this cold, gloomy humour.
Apronius, is your voice in tune?

Apronius.
I'll try.
SONG.

Verres.
How so? I thought she had been crown'd with stars.

Apronius.
Her loves with Bacchus, and her stellar wreath,
Are allegorical, and mean no more.
Than the song tells us.

Sestius.
And all songs tell truth.
A gallant fellow at a rape, that Theseus;
I know his hist'ry: he'd the first of Helen.

Rubrius.
Right, Sestius, to make sure of that priority,
Like a wise man, he stole her in her childhood.

Verres.
Would she were here! not quite indeed so young,
Nor yet so far advanc'd, as when she quitted
Lank Menelaus for her curl'd adulterer;
Or any other Helen. For that company,
Tho' chosen e'er so well, if only men,
Sours into argument, or quickly mopes.
What is the feast where women are excluded!

Apronius.
A trough for swine to gorge at, where they swill,
To surfeiting in noise and nastiness.

Rubrius.
Man would immediately relapse to beast,
If woman did not humanize the brute,
And make him shave his beard and pare his nails.
Where-e'er she treads, good humour leads the way,
Pleasure, light-hearted mirth, and elegance,
Compose her train, and joy is all her own.
Wine was invented to supply her place,
And but enhances more the want of her.

Sestius.
I don't find that.

Apronius.
Within these walls is one,
Who had sham'd Helen, given her the pip,
And, to excuse her looks, had made her swear
She had not slept the whole precedent night,
Tho' she had had her husband by her side.
I mean the daughter of our gen'rous host.
Nay, her companion is almost her rival.
And, on my conscience, I could well believe
That Leda laid more eggs than we are told of,
Which have been somehow kept, and newly hatch'd,
To shew true beauty to the present age.

Verres.
It is inhuman to confine the women,
Who best adorn, and ought to share the feast.
Let me beseech you, we may have their company.

Philodamus.
My daughter in the company of men,
Where the mad bowl inspires unmaster'd licence!
What! a chaste virgin be a blushing witness
To the gross meaning of your lewd allusions!
Bear the familiar pressure of the hand,
And all the ribald manners, now call'd fashion!
The thought is infamous.

Sestius.
Hark you me, landlord,
If she's so chaste, she would not understand them.
If not, 'tis not the pressure of the hand
Will do her harm.

Verres.
In truth, Philodamus,
Your Grecian ceremonial is too strict.—
We'll argue this within;—and shall convince you,
That the security of female virtue
Rests safest on its early introduction
To the familiarity of men.
Come, friends, to the next room. I know you're thirsty
To pledge me to the health of this new Helen.

[Exeunt all but Sestius and Philodamus.

SCENE III.

SESTIUS, PHILODAMUS.
Sestius.
Hist! old formality! Hark you me, friend!
An you will pledge me in a single bowl:
I'll tell y' a secret that shall make you laugh.
But you'll not blab, for I detest a blabber.
You never heard a scheme of greater pleasantry.

Philodamus.
He may know something worthy my discovery.
'Tis fair to catch the truth that's leaking thro' him.
[Aside.
If but for once then, I accept your challenge.
Here's to you.

Sestius.
Now that's spoken like a man.
[Both drink.
Why, you must know we came on purpose hither,
To carry off—this, what's her name! this Helen—
You can guess who I mean—Don't be a fool now,
To blow the secret, and prevent our sport.

Philodamus.
All-gracious heav'n! [Aside.]
—Oh! never doubt my prudence—
Yes! all things join to prove it. [Aside.]
—Never fear me.—
Oh, sacred hospitality profan'd! [Aside.]
—
But join your company, lest they suspect
The confidence you've made.

Sestius.
Tut! never doubt them.
[Exit Sestius.

SCENE IV.

PHILODAMUS, EARINUS:
Philodamus.
Earinus, thou faithfullest of servants!—
Oh, heav'n and earth! the soul of man is villany!—
Fly, with the utmost speed of fear, and tell them—
Art thou not gone?

Earinus.
Whither, my lord? to whom?
Tell what?

Philodamus.
I crave thy mercy, my Earinus;
Impatience stops itself with its own hurry.
Fly to Philippus and Epicrates,
Tell them, my guests are vipers, adders, scorpions,
That mean to sting to death my daughter's honour,
Erato's and Euphemia's—Nay, come back;
Why dost thou run away with half thy errand?
Tell them—Ye Gods instruct me how to act!
Tell them, to arm themselves and servants privily:
See that my own are ready—Stay, command them,
As they respect and love me, not to strike
Till avow'd violence demand resistance.—
Once more come back—Tell them, they hurt not Sestius.
What he disclos'd, thanks to his wine, shall save him.
Away. [Exit Earinus.]
I've liv'd to blush at my own species!

SCENE V.

APRONIUS, PHILODAMUS.
Apronius.
The Legate and his friends wish for your company;
They think their entertainment but imperfect
Without your presence.

Philodamus,
not perceiving her.
Surely he will find them,
Or we are all undone.—Nay, he will find them.

Apronius.
You do not hear me.

Philodamus,
confus'd.
Pardon me, I do,
Indeed? and what says Sestius to that?

Apronius.
I said the Legate would desire your presence.
Sestius says nothing, but has delegated
His nose to speak as proxy. You may hear it
Snore hither.

Philodamus.
Well, I go.—What dogs are men!

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Apronius.
So! he suspects our drift, I find: no matter—
What dogs are men? I heard the exclamation.
Th'expression errs; and is a gross abuse
Upon the better animal. No doubt,
Were dogs to speak, they would invert the phrase;
When they reproach each other—Ho! Cornelius!

SCENE VII.

Enter CORNELIUS.
Apronius.
Place at this door a guard, while you and I
Usher the women out.

Cornelius.
Since such my orders,
Make good the guard here; and now I attend you.

[Exeunt.
First Soldier.
A pretty job of work we are upon!
An we're demolish'd, we deserve it richly.

Second Soldier.
Ay, all that stay for't; but if there's resistance,
Let those who are to share the honey, try
To drive away the bees.

Women
within.
Help there! oh, help!
Whoever loves Philodamus, assist us!

Enter CORNELIUS with EUPHEMIA, and APRONIUS with ERATO.
Cornelius.
No mutiny.

Apronius.
My fair one, no resistance;
You see it is in vain, useless as clamour.

Erato.
Will no one help? You have not slain my father,
That you presume on such unheard-of violence!
But he were better dead, than see my shame.
My knees knock under me, I cannot go.

[To Apronius, who pulls her.
Apronius.
We'll carry you.

Euphemia.
Keep up your resolution.
Think in what hands we are, and be assur'd,
To dare to fear, is to assist our danger.
Courage! Philippus lives, or we can die.

Apronius.
The Legate is gallant, and gay, and generous,
Handsome, and young, and rich. Ere long you'll thank me,
For what, unthinkingly, you now call violence.
And as for you, my pretty one, there's Rubrius—

Euphemia.
Detested wretch! stop thy vile speech—Ye Gods!
I see Philippus, my deliv'rer, comes!

SCENE VII.

Enter EPICRATES, PHILIPPUS, and servants, arm'd.
Epicrates,
to Apronius.
Villain, let go thy sacrilegious hold,
Or perish instantly upon this sword.

Apronius,
running away.
Ay, let Cornelius fight, I like not fighting.

Exit.
Epicrates drives the soldiers off the stage.
Philippus.
Go follow thy companion, or thou diest.

Cornelius.
'Tis not decided yet, if you, or I.

Philippus.
Resign her, thou brave fool, I would not hurt thee,
Thou hast some honesty, although a Roman.

Cornelius.
What's honesty 'gainst orders? So come on.

[Fight. Cornelius falls.
Verres
within.
[Bustle within.
Silence the dotard's clamour. Stop his throat.

Euphemia.
Thus to thy arms—

Philippus,
stopping her.
It is no time for this.

Re-enter EPICRATES.
Philipus,
to him.
Lose not an instant, but convey to safety
Euphemia and my sister; while I fly
To save a father. Some of you attend me.

[Exeunt on different sides.
Cornelius.
This comes of serving knaves—I have enough on't.
And yet 'tis hard, now—that an honest soldier—
For following—oh!—his orders—should be slain.

Bustle within.
[Dies.

SCENE VII.

PHILODAMUS, PHILIPPUS.
Philodamus.
Thank thee, my gallant son, thou'st sav'd my life.
Where is my Erato? Where is Euphemia?

Philippus.
Under strong guard Epicrates conducts them
To his own house—Alas! you bleed, my father.

Philodamus.
Fear not, for I am whole; yet the vile Rubrius
Had near subdued me; till a lucky struggle
Freed me, and pass'd my dagger through his arm.
Thence come these stains.

Philippus.
Would it had been his heart!
Or rather that of Verres.

Philodamus.
Who lies here?

Philippus.
This was Cornelius; fain I would have sav'd him,
But stupid duty forc'd him upon death.
What have we now to do?

[Cornelius carried off.
Philodamus.
Why this, Philippus.
To draw up our complaint against this Verres,
And send it to the Prætor.—Well, Epicrates,
Enter EPICRATES.
Say, are the women safe?

Epicrates.
Yes, they are safe.
But Verres and his crew had well nigh perish'd.
Fir'd with just indignation at your wrongs,
The populace pursu'd him to his palace,
Where, finding it impossible to enter,
They heap'd up faggots, ev'ry thing combustible,
To have reduc'd him and his house to ashes;
When, most unluckily for our revenge,
Arriv'd the Roman prætor Dolabella,
Whose presence stay'd them, and dispers'd the tumult.

Philodamus.
I'm glad they were prevented—

Philippus.
And I sorry.

Philodamus.
For justice, executed by the people,
Loses its name, and grows most dangerous—
What have we here? another Roman guard!

Enter Officer and Soldiers.
Officer.
Philodamus, and you, Philippus, Sirs,
Ye are my pris'ners, and must to the forum.

Philippus.
Pris'ners! for what? because we did not hold
Our throats conveniently, to have them cut;
Nor make the offer of our maidens honour
To the insatiate appetite of Verres?

Epicrates.
And is there no mistake, that you omit me?
Oh, take me too! I blush to be at liberty.

Officer.
You are not charg'd. Their lot deserves no envy.

Philodamus.
When Hadrian the prætor, by extortions,
Had rak'd th'inhabitants of Utica
Beyond the sufferance of human nature,
Despair, at last, gave vent to their resentment,
And they consum'd him, and his spoils, and palace
To dust, by fire, unquestion'd since of Rome.

Officer.
I am not here to reason, but command:
So come along.

Philodamus.
Do you, Epicrates,
Acquaint my daughters, and come after us.

[Exeunt all but Epicrates.
Epicrates.
Confusion, thou hast caught us in thy net!—

Enter EUPHEMIA.
Euphemia.
Where is Philippus? tell me, is he safe?

Epicrates.
Why hast thou ventur'd, desp'rate, to this roof?
Know you not, all beneath it is accurs'd?
Ruin and death inhabit the waste structure;
While over-head, like a black cloud, destruction
Low'rs on the whole, and meditates to burst
On all it finds in the devoted verge.
Escape, if yet you may: fly to my house,
There shelter from the storm. Why left you Erato?

Euphemia.
Ay! is he dead? and I survive him yet?—

Epicrates.
He lives. The prætor's guard conducts him chain'd,
Him and Philodamus, both, to the forum.
The Legate's fury drives at such a rate,
'Tis manifest at what it will arrive.

Euphemia.
He lives! Bless'd be the tongue that tells me so!
Heav'n and their innocence will soon acquit them,
And punishment must light, where due, on Verres.
Soon as the Roman prætor is inform'd,
He'll blush, they have been chain'd as criminals.

Epicrates.
Can power blush? or feels oppression shame?
Then I'll believe the crocodile may weep;
Nay more, surrender his uninjur'd prey.
Ah! let us not confide in innocence;
What is there else that tyranny can hate?
And what it hates, what hinders it to punish?

Euphemia.
Can any tyranny make self-defence
A punishable crime? The Roman virtue
Holds the first station in the world's esteem;
And their politeness has such gen'ral fame,
'Tis thought to overpay the wrongs of conquest.

Epicrates.
I've been at Rome. The insolence of conquerors
Coins their own fame, and we, their slaves, adopt
What character their pride stamps on themselves.
Virtue, at Rome, means to enslave the world.
Politeness is another name for luxury,
That gorges at a mess the wealth of nations.
Such justice as these principles afford,
We may expect to find, and nothing better.

Euphemia.
I catch your fears; yet hope you fear too much.

Epicrates.
Let us prepare us as the worst were certain.
'Tis my request, Euphemia, that you chuse
My house, my friendship, and the love of Erato,
As your protection in this dread calamity:
And lest you fear (seeing, in friendship's name,
How many seek to buy a slave a pennyworth)
Time and familiarity should shrink you
From parity into a mean dependence,
Soon as you pass my threshold, twenty talents
Wait your acceptance.—

Euphemia.
Worthy of Philippus!
Thou art his match in virtue as in friendship!
Such thanks as my poor gratitude can pay—

Epicrates.
The time will not admit of farther reasoning.
Let me prevail, and wish you back to Erato.
Farewell. Each minute I'll dispatch a messenger,
Who shall inform you both of all that passes.

[Exit.
Euphemia.
Success attend thy steps. [Kneels.]
All-ruling Power!
We know not how to name; and therefore wander
Thro' almost infinite denominations,
To mark thy various attributes and functions,
Who must love justice; Oh! if ever, now
Exert thyself, free from thy gen'ral laws,
And speak in prodigies; enact, and vindicate
Thy equitable mandates. Villain Man
Will construe else thy patience a connivance,
And deal out wrong, secure of punishment.

[Exit.