 | Brutus |  |
SCENE II.
TITUS, ARUNS.ARUNS.
Having essay'd the senate, and in vain
Strove to preserve this hapless state; permit me
Off'ring to virtue and transcendent worth
Due homage, unforbidden to admire
That generous courage, that protecting arm
Which shielded Rome, and stopt its headlong fall
When to the steep abrupt of danger lead
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Ah! how deserving! Of a different foe!
And cause more just! How would that dauntless valour
Have shone in other fields? At its return
How crown'd with more becoming wreaths! My tongue
Shall tell, and tell thee boldly, that I mean
The juster cause of kings, who would intrust
Their empire to thy hands, nor dread the virtue
Which they admire; which I have seen excite
Rome's fervid transports, while the senate shook
With anxious jealousy. It grieves my soul
That thou should'st bend beneath these savage masters,
Whom merit but provokes, on whom good deeds
Are cast away; who, born to serve, esteem it
Among their sordid honours to stretch forth
The hand of power on their deliverer.
If they had not usurp'd the regal sway,
From thee they ought those orders to receive
Which now they give.
TITUS.
For this attentive care,
These generous thoughts t'ward me, accept my thanks;
Their aim too may be guess'd. They need no comment.
The lure of subtle policy to arm
My discontent against the public state,
Flattery's sweet bait to call my passion forth,
And urge it on to rash pernicious deeds,
Offspring of thoughtless rage. This waste of art
Will ne'er intrap sincerity; it glares
Too visibly apparent. All my soul
Is undisguised, nor owns a sentiment
It wishes to conceal. The partial senate
Hath injured me, that injury demands
My hatred, and that hatred I confess;
Yet is my ready arm obedient still;
When prompted by the common cause we seek
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Extinguishes at once each latent spark
Of private animosity; we move
Victors of every passion, link'd in bonds
Of firmest union, not a foe is ours,
But tyrants, Aruns, and the friends of tyrants.
See what I am, and what I will be. Sway'd
Whether by pride of heart, or conscious virtue,
Or haply, as thou deem'st, by prejudice,
Yet born a Roman, I for Rome will die.
This rigorous senate, tho' to me unjust,
Full of suspicious jealousy and fear,
I love beyond the splendour of a court,
And the proud sceptre of a single lord.
I am the son of Brutus, and my heart
Deep-graven bears the love of liberty,
And hate of kings.
ARUNS.
May not ideal forms,
And visionary beauties cheat the eye?
Not to thyself is liberty more dear
Than to this breast. Tho' born beneath a king,
I prize, and have experienced all her charms.
You each substantial blessing sacrifice,
To chace a phantom which you ne'er enjoy.
To speak with plainness, where exists more strong
The true despotic spirit, than in states
Converted to republics? Every law
Breathes tyranny; not merit can relax
Their barbarous rigour; interest, family,
Prefer their suit in vain. The senate rules,
With iron rod, the populace affronts you.
You must be fear'd, or creep an abject worm.
A citizen of Rome suspicious, mean,
Or insolent, is either fraught with hatred
Against superior excellence, or walks
Proudly erect, and boasts an equal height;
Glory's bright beams excite his wildest rage,
And sting him e'en to madness. With keen eye
Severely piercing, he beholds in those
Who serve him best, naught but the power to raise
And give effect to mischief. Banishment
The final doom, and grateful recompence,
For all the blood they lavish'd in his cause.
And visionary beauties cheat the eye?
Not to thyself is liberty more dear
Than to this breast. Tho' born beneath a king,
I prize, and have experienced all her charms.
You each substantial blessing sacrifice,
To chace a phantom which you ne'er enjoy.
To speak with plainness, where exists more strong
The true despotic spirit, than in states
Converted to republics? Every law
Breathes tyranny; not merit can relax
Their barbarous rigour; interest, family,
Prefer their suit in vain. The senate rules,
With iron rod, the populace affronts you.
You must be fear'd, or creep an abject worm.
A citizen of Rome suspicious, mean,
Or insolent, is either fraught with hatred
Against superior excellence, or walks
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Glory's bright beams excite his wildest rage,
And sting him e'en to madness. With keen eye
Severely piercing, he beholds in those
Who serve him best, naught but the power to raise
And give effect to mischief. Banishment
The final doom, and grateful recompence,
For all the blood they lavish'd in his cause.
Doubtless a court is not without its rocks
And hidden quicksands. But its sun more pure
More genial shines, and tempests seldom rise
Deforming its serener sky. E'en freedom
Elsewhere so vaunted, cherish'd by the prince
Oft gayly smiles, and wears a lovelier hue.
A monarch's hand is liberal of rewards,
Warm is his friendship, and his ready mind
Anticipates the service; glory knows
No self-denial, but enjoys unblamed
Its exquisite sensations. By the prince
Beloved, invested with his rays, you own
But one superior; lord o'er all beside.
While dazzled by the splendor which surrounds
Those whom he favours, shouting crouds attend,
And e'en our very faults become the theme
Of popular applause. We never dread
A senate's envious frown, its harsh decrees
Intrude not on our ear. Oh! Born to grace
A court, or shine illustrious in the field!
How woul'st thou have enjoy'd the smiles of Tarquin's bounty!
And own'd the charms of his unrivall'd goodness!
Need I more plainly speak? He loved thee Titus,
With thee he would have shared his sovereign power.
Then would this haughty senate at thy feet
In low prostration—
And hidden quicksands. But its sun more pure
More genial shines, and tempests seldom rise
Deforming its serener sky. E'en freedom
Elsewhere so vaunted, cherish'd by the prince
Oft gayly smiles, and wears a lovelier hue.
A monarch's hand is liberal of rewards,
Warm is his friendship, and his ready mind
Anticipates the service; glory knows
No self-denial, but enjoys unblamed
Its exquisite sensations. By the prince
Beloved, invested with his rays, you own
But one superior; lord o'er all beside.
While dazzled by the splendor which surrounds
Those whom he favours, shouting crouds attend,
And e'en our very faults become the theme
Of popular applause. We never dread
A senate's envious frown, its harsh decrees
Intrude not on our ear. Oh! Born to grace
A court, or shine illustrious in the field!
How woul'st thou have enjoy'd the smiles of Tarquin's bounty!
And own'd the charms of his unrivall'd goodness!
Need I more plainly speak? He loved thee Titus,
With thee he would have shared his sovereign power.
Then would this haughty senate at thy feet
In low prostration—
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I have seen his court,
And seen it with contempt. I might have cringed,
Have humbly begg'd, and gain'd no doubt his favour,
Been his first slave, and tyrannised beneath him.
But, thanks to heaven, such weakness, manhood's stain,
Resides not here. My soul aspires to greatness,
But not by sordid steps. I feel within
An energy which tells me I was ne'er
Destined to base subjection. Be it mine,
Opposed in glorious war, to meet these kings,
Go thou and serve.
ARUNS.
I cannot but approve
This bright excess of constancy. Yet think,
Reflect a moment on thy tender age,
On Tarquin's love, how interested then
In all thy welfare. Often he recalls
Those pleasing scenes, and when he mourn'd with me,
But yesterday, his son's untimely death,
His own misfortunes, Titus (he exclaim'd)
Would have sustain'd my sinking family.
He only would with justice have deserved
My kingdom, and my daughter.
TITUS.
Hah! His Daughter!
Ye Gods! My Tullia! Oh disastrous love!
ARUNS.
I bear her hence to Tarquin; to the king
Thou hast rejected, soon to be removed
Far from her country, far from thee, to bless
Ligurian's monarch, and partake his throne.
Meanwhile be this thy residence, here serve
Thy favourite senate, persecute her father,
And desolate her realm. But oh! May soon
Avenging fires these arched roofs destroy!
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These stately towers! May their commingled flames
The senate's and the people's tombs illumine!
Triumphal torches to our happy nuptials!
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