University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

BRUTUS, THE SENATE.
Scene, a Part of the House appropriated to the Consuls on the Tarpeian Mount. At a Distance, the Temple of the Capitol. The Senators are assembled between the Temple and the House, before the Altar of Mars. The Consuls, Brutus and Valerius Publicola, preside. The Senators are ranged in a Semi-circle. The Lictors with their Fasces stand behind them.
BRUTUS.
Avengers of tyrannic power, who own
No kings except the righteous Gods of Numa,
Your virtue, and the laws; at length our foe
Begins to know us. This imperious Tuscan,
Whose voice was that of absolute command,
Whose arm supports a tyrant like himself,
Porsenna, Tarquin's dread ally, whose hosts
O'erspread the banks of Tiber, on the Senate
Reflects with awe, and fears the sons of freedom.
This day before your eyes the crest of pride
Lowly he stoops, and begs that he may treat
By his ambassador; Aruns, by him
Deputed, is arrived, and now requests
An audience from the senators of Rome.
He waits in yonder temple, you will judge
Whether it more becomes you to refuse,
Or order his admission.

VALERIUS PUBLICOLA.
Let him bring
Whatever terms he may, and for our ears
However meet, unheard we ought to send him
Back to his lord. Ye have what I advise.
No more to Rome of treaty with her foes
Till they are vanquish'd. Twice indeed thy son
Raising the scourge of vengeance, hath repulsed
The tyrant of Hetruria; I confess
The debt which his illustrious valour claims;
And own he stands, by thy example taught,
The saviour of his country. But not e'en
These deeds suffice. Rome still begirt with arms,
Views near her walls the race which she abhors.
Let Tarquin yield to our decrees; the law
Doom'd him to exile; let him quit the state,
And purge our borders of imperial crimes,
Then may we listen to his prayers. But much
This title of ambassador it seems
Works on your minds. Unable to subdue,
The tyrant now is anxious to deceive us.
Caution alarm'd beholds with jealous eye
These regal messengers, insidious foes
Deck'd with the badge of honour, who advance
Replete with haughtinesse, or all the wiles
Of dextrous craft, and with impunity
Insult us, or betray. Listen not, Rome,
To their seducing words; disdaining art,
Thine is war's generous task; confound the foes
Who sicken at thy glory; fall thyself,
Or punish guilty kings; be these thy treaties.

BRUTUS.
Rome knows I prize her liberty beyond
All that is dear. Yet tho' my bosom glows
With the same ardour; my opinion differs.
I cannot but behold this embassy
As the first homage paid by sovereign power
To Rome's free sons; we should accustom thus
The towering and despotic pride of kings
To treat on even terms with our republic;
Till heaven accomplishing its just decrees,
The time shall come to treat with them as subjects.
Aruns is here no doubt, intent to mark
Our yet unsettled state, what hidden springs
Nourish its rising grandeur, to explore
Its genius, and observe its strength. All this
Proves it a duty, fathers, to admit him
Into our presence, let the senate's foe
Know who, and what we are; a monarch's slave
At length prepare himself to look on men.
Let him at leisure cast his eye o'er Rome,
Here will he view her, and in you survey
Her guardian bulwarks. Let him on this spot
Revere the God whose altar stands before us;
Let him approach the senate, hear, and tremble.

[The Senators rise and come forward to give their votes.
VALERIUS PUBLICOLA.
Thine is the general suffrage; Rome and thou
Must be obey'd; I with reluctance yield.
Go, lictors, introduce him to our presence,
And may the Roman dignity from thence
Remain uninjured!
[To Brutus.
All our eyes are turned
On thee alone; thy hand first brake our chains.
This high debate of liberty to thee
Glad we intrust; thou art her father, Brutus,
And who more fit to plead her sacred cause?

SCENE II.

ARUNS, ALBINUS, ATTENDANTS.
Aruns enters, preceded by two Lictors, with Albinus his Friend; he passes by the Consuls and Senate, salutes them, and takes a Seat prepared for him in the Front of the Stage.
ARUNS.
Consuls, and fathers, with what heartfelt joy
Mix I with this assembly! Hallow'd band
Of sage deliberating foes! How pleased
View all those heroes, in whose thoughts or deeds
E'en to this hour severest equity
Can find one only flaw! Your noble acts
To scan, to look with wonder on your virtues,
And crowning all the glorious sum, to hear
Rome's blended accents from the lips of Brutus.
Far from the clamours of the barbarous herd,
Wild and untutor'd, who by headstrong rage
Are hurried on, united, and disjoin'd.
Blind in their hate, in their affections blind,
Who menace, tremble, rule and cringe by turns
In one short day; whose boldness—

BRUTUS.
Cease; and learn
That more respect is due when thou would'st name
The citizens of Rome. To represent
That virtuous people, thou hast dared insult,
The senate justly glories. While with us,
Banish thy art, dismiss thy flattery,
The poison in Hetruria's court prepared,
As yet untasted by the Roman senate.
Proceed.

ARUNS.
Less moved by these sonorous words,
Than pitying your devoted state exposed
To sure destruction, like a son of Rome
Now hear me plead its cause. You see the storm
Instinct with vengeful fires and bursting round you.
In vain will Titus strive to turn aside
The furious bolt. With sorrow I perceive
His valour and his zeal can but insure
A more illustrious downfall to his country.
His victories weaken your deserted ramparts,
They seem as sapp'd and tottering with the blood
Which floats around. No longer then refuse
A peace so needful to your dearest interests.
And though the assembled senate claim the name
Of common father to the Roman people,
Remember that the race, the royal race,
Your wrath pursues, can call Porsenna theirs.
But say, you dread avengers of your country,
You whose enlightened souls expound the rights
Of all mankind, who judge dependent kings;
Mark you this place? Observe you where you are?
There stands the capitol, the altar there
On which, attesting all th'immortal gods
I saw you once, (far different then indeed
Was your religious warmth) swear to obey
Tarquin your lawful monarch; say what gods
Have since new framed the rights of kings? What power
Hath broke those ties so hallow'd erst? What hand
Hath torn the crown from Tarquin's sacred brows?
Who hath absolved you from your oaths?

BRUTUS.
Himself.
Urge not the ties his crimes have broke: the gods
Whom he hath scorn'd, the rights by him destroy'd.
When rendering homage, Aruns, to our prince
We swore obedient faith, not servitude.
But if thou here beheld'st at Tarquin's feet
The senate kneel, and offer up their vows,
Remember likewise in this very place,
On that most holy altar, and before
The same attesting deities, that he
Swore to be just. Such was the bond between
Him and his people, and he then returned
Our oath, when first he falsified his own.
When he dared prove a traitor to the laws,
Rome was no longer subject to his power,
Rebellion his alone.

ARUNS.
But grant it true that Tarquin drawn aside
By absolute dominion had a while
Stray'd from his duty, and too far pursued
Its witching blandishments; where lives the man
From error free? The king exempt from weakness?
Inform me under what pretence you claim
The right of chastisement? You who were born
His subjects? framed by Nature to obey?
The son ne'er lifts his hand against his sire
Though criminal, but with averted face
Sighs, and reveres him. Are the rights of kings
Less, think you, to be prized? We are their children.
Their judges are the gods. If in its wrath
High Heaven sometimes creates them, would you merit
Severer punishments? Destroy the laws
You seek t'avenge? And in confusion plunge
The government you only wish to change?
Tarquin henceforth, school'd by adversity,
Great tutoress of mankind, will prove more just,
More worthy of imperial Rome. Oh! brace
With happiest concord, firmest energy,
The legal bonds of prince and people! You
Possess the option, give it but effect,
And public liberty shall bloom anew
Beneath the sacred shade of regal power.

BRUTUS.
The time is past. All nations have their laws;
From their peculiar nature first derived,
Or modell'd by their choice. Their monarch's slaves,
Slaves to their priests, the Tuscans seem as born
To crouch beneath the yoke; self-satisfied
Adore the fetters rivetted by time,
And like themselves, would bend the world to bondage.
All Greece is free; while soft Ionia still
Sits languishingly weak, its mind inured
To shameful slavery. Rome hath had her kings;
Not absolute however; Romulus,
Great founder of our state was but the first
Among its citizens; they shared with him
The weight of sovereignty. Tho' Numa framed
Our laws, by them his actions too were bound.
At length (I own th'unworthy deed with shame)
Rome made an evil choice, and from the Tuscans,
From you, her king selected; with him came
From your Hetruria's bosom, from its court,
Its vices, and tyrannic thirst of sway.
[He rises.
Forgive the Roman people, mighty gods,
Their long forbearance to the guilt of Tarquin!
The torrent streams of blood, he fiercely spilt,
Have each barrier of duty swept away.
The realm long crush'd beneath his iron rod
Through dint of sufferings hath regain'd its virtue.
Tarquin hath fix'd again our native rights;
And from th'uncommon rankness of his crimes
Each public blessing sprang. Your Tuscans now
May follow, if they dare, the bright example,
And shake off tyrants.
[The Consuls descend towards the Altar, and the Senate rises.
O Immortal Power!
God of heroic chiefs, of warring hosts,
And of illustrious Rome! O Mars! receive
The vows we pour forth on thy sacred altar,
In the consenting senate's mingled name,
In mine, and that of all thy genuine sons,
Who not disgrace their sire! If hid within
Rome's secret bosom, there exist a traitor,
Who with base mind regrets the loss of kings,
And would again behold a tyrant lord;
May the wretch die beneath a thousand tortures!
His guilty ashes scattered through the air
The sport of winds, while nought remains behind
But his vile name, more loathsome to the tongue
Of latest times than that which Rome condemns
To utmost infamy, detested Tarquin's.

ARUNS.
[Approaching the Altar.
And I, upon this altar, which your vows
Have thus profaned, in Tarquin's royal name
Whom you with scorn reject, and in the name
Of great Porsenna his avenger, swear
To you and to your sons eternal war.
[The Senators move towards the Capitol.
Hear me a moment, senators, nor yet
Dismiss th'assembly; injuries there are
Which still remain unnoticed. Tarquin's daughter,
Your prisoner, say, is she a victim too,
To Rome devoted? Are her royal hands
Loaded with chains, the more t'insult her father,
And every sovereign in the world, with him?
Shall I proceed? The wealth, the stores, the treasures
Whence fed, the streams of Tarquin's bounty flowed
Through his loved city; claim you these by conquest?
Or as a gift? Was it to share the plunder
That you dethroned the monarch? Let the senate
Its orders give, and Brutus shall refuse them.

BRUTUS.
Misjudging man! how ignorant of Rome,
And her sublimer nature! See those worthies,
Patrons of justice, fathers of their country,
Grown old amid the dignities of state,
And virtuous poverty! Superior far
To treasures, which they willingly resign,
It is their boast to triumph over kings
Who prize the glittering trifles. Take it hence,
The sordid mass; our fixed souls disdain it.
As to the odious tyrant's hapless daughter,
Spite of the hate, the well-deserved hate
I bear to all her family, the senate
Confided her to my protecting care.
The flattering strains which fascinating, charm
The heirs of royalty, and taint their hearts
With subtle poison, have not reached her here.
The shining pomp, and soft voluptuousness
Of Tarquin's court, bane to the giddy mind
Of thoughtless youth, she hath not here experienced.
But well I know what generosity
And honour prompt, what to her sex is due,
Her tender age, and more, to her misfortunes.
This day to Tarquin let her be restored,
Conduct her to the camp; a secret joy
Thence rises in my soul. Oh! May the tyrant
Hereafter nought possess within our walls,
But Rome's abhorence, and the wrath of heaven!
The treasures to remove we grant a day,
Let that suffice. Meantime beneath my roof
Receive protection, and partake the rights
Of hospitality. The assembled fathers
Thus speak through me; this evening bear our answer
Back to Porsenna, we present him, war.
For Tarquin, let him know what thou hast seen
Within the Roman senate.
[To the Senators.
Let us haste
Now to the capitol, and ornament
Its vaulted dome with laurels which engird
My son's victorious brows; there let us hang
The bloody ensigns, shields, and brazen spears
Which with successful struggle his brave hands
Have wrested from the Tuscans. Ever thus
From age to age with the same spirit fired,
Worthy their country, may my offspring prove
Their zeal and steady faith! Ye gods protect
Against our foes the father's consulship!
Protect the son in the dread field of death!

SCENE III.

ARUNS, ALBINUS.
[Having retired from the Hall of Audience, into an Apartment in the House of Brutus.
ARUNS.
Didst thou remark the firm unyielding spirit
Of this proud senate which believes itself
Invincible? It would be so Albinus,
Were Rome allow'd the time to school her sons,
And root this daring boldness in their hearts.
Trust me; that liberty to which all bend
With adoration, which though purposing
To wrest from them, I cannot but admire,
Gives to mankind a strenuous fortitude,
A loftiness of thought, of which before
They never traced a single lineament
Existing in their breasts. Reduced beneath
The Tarquin yoke, a pliant court, which nursed
The principles of slavery, relax'd
Their hardy manners, and enervated
Their active vigour. Whilst their king intent
To fetter his own subjects, undisturbed
Suffered our happy Tuscans to enjoy
The sweets of peace. But should the senate rouse
Their inborn genius from its dread repose,
Should Rome be free; Italia is undone.
These lions, by their keeper rendered mild,
Their pristine fierceness will again assume
And headstrong rush upon us. Let us then
Choak in their vital origin the seeds
Profuse of misery to the Ausonian states,
And havock to the world. Assuring thus
The universal freedom; while on them
We fix the chains, they destine for mankind.
But will Messala come? May I expect him?
And will he dare?

ALBINUS.
My lord, he will attend you;
A moment brings him. Titus is his friend.

ARUNS.
Hast thou contrived to sound him? May I utter
My thoughts with confidence?

ALBINUS.
Unless I err,
Messala joins our plot; that he may change
His own condition, rather than the empire.
Intrepid, firm, as if each brave resolve
From conscious honour flow'd, or patriot love.
For ever secret, master of himself,
Impenetrable to the keenest eye,
And mid the whirlwind of his passions, calm.

ARUNS.
Such he appear'd to me, when once his guest
During the reign of Tarquin; which confirm'd
By all his letters since. But lo! he comes.

SCENE IV.

ARUNS, MESSALA, ALBINUS.
ARUNS.
Generous Messala, in whose breast survives
A grateful friendship t'ward thy injured master,
Say cannot Tarquin's gold, Porsenna's gifts,
Relax the minds of these stern senators,
And shake their faith? Are their rough-moulded hearts
To all the tempting pleasures of a court,
To hope and fear, impassive? Do they stand,
These fierce patricians, in the rank of gods,
Judges of all mankind, and dreading none?
Have they no secret vices, warm desires,
Or private interests?

MESSALA.
Such are their vain boasts
But their dissembled justice, and severe
Inflexible, austerity, which scorns
Every allurement, only mark the thirst
Of their imperious hearts, for sovereign power.
Their pride superior, underneath their feet
Treads the proud diadem; and when they brake
The yoke of kings, they but imposed their own.
These great avengers of our liberty,
Arm'd to defend it, are its worst oppressors.
Under the humble and seducing names
Of patrons and of fathers, they affect
The gait of monarchs; Rome hath changed her fetters.
And while her nobles rule without controul,
Is, for one king, cursed with an hundred tyrants.

ARUNS.
Is there not one among your citizens
Whom wisdom teaches with indignant eye
To view such abject slavery?

MESSALA.
Few perceive
Their hidden bonds; but every sense still wild
With this great change, intoxication reigns.
The meanest wretch in his extreme degree
Of low mechanic baseness, having join'd
To hunt out monarchs, thinks himself a king.
But as I wrote; some friends of mine there are
Who with reluctance feel the galling load
Of this new yoke. Disdaining the weak herd,
And their fond foolish errors, they alone
Mid the fierce-rushing torrent stand unmoved.
Men of tried minds, whose hearts and hands are formed
To take, or model empires at their will.

ARUNS.
What may I hope from these brave sons of Rome?
Will they assist their prince?

MESSALA.
They are prepared
For every deed most hazardous; prepared
To spill their blood profusely in his cause.
But yet imagine not, devoutly blind,
That they will toil for an ungrateful master.
They boast not that enthusiastic warmth
To fall as victims to despotic power,
And rush with senseless zeal on death itself
T'avenge a tyrant, who will afterwards
Not even know them. Tarquin's promises
Are large and full, but having gain'd his point
He may erase their actions from his mind,
Or haply view them with the jealous look
Of secret fear. Well do I know the great;
Friends in their adverse, in their prosperous hour
Neglecting all past benefits, nay oft
The bitterest enemies. We are no more
Than servile instruments to their ambition,
Cast by with scorn when thought no longer useful,
When dangerous destroy'd. My friends will move
Only on stipulated terms, which fix,
And they are sure as fate. They ask a chief
Worthy their courage, with whose dazzling name
To catch the light inconstant multitude.
Whose power, should we succeed, may bind the king,
And keep his faith inviolate; a chief
Whose daring temper, should the secret woof
Of our designs be traced, will still uphold
And best avenge our cause.

ARUNS.
Your letters taught me
That the proud heart of Titus—

MESSALA.
He supports
The Roman state; he is the son of Brutus;
Yet—

ARUNS.
In what light views he th'unjust reward
With which the haughty senate hath repaid
His gallant deeds? His arm alone preserved
The city from destruction. Yet the worth
Of his full soldiership, could not procure him
The rank of counsel; they, I know, refused it.

MESSALA.
At which, I know, he murmurs. His high soul,
Prompt to resent, swells with the injury.
What meed hath he obtain'd, but empty shouts?
A triumph's vain and tinsel pageantry?
And a few gawdy beams of transient splendor?
I've read his proud heart through; and know the strong
And warm emotions of his kindled rage.
Just enter'd on the spacious field of glory
From the scarce seen, and yet unbeaten path
He may be turn'd aside; for fiery youth
Is prone to be misled. But to remove
Each stubborn prejudice which warps his breast,
There is the toil; the love he bears to Rome;
His hate of kings; a consul, and a father;
His dread of shame; and more, the wreaths new-won,
By his heroic acts. Now understand
Titus with me, now mark his inmost soul,
The grief which stings, the poison rankling there.
That soul is fix'd on Tullia.

ARUNS.
Fix'd on Tullia!

MESSALA.
With difficulty from his struggling breast
I forced the secret. At himself he blush'd;
Nor would his fierce unbending spirit deign
To own love's mastery, dreading to be seen
By its soft impulse moved. Amid the shock
Of diverse passions which contend within
And agitate his frame, still liberty
Excites his warmest ardour, every thought
Is frenzy-fired t'ward her.

ARUNS.
Thus then it seems
Upon the movements of a single heart,
Spite of myself, depends the fate of Rome.
But let us on with confidence.—Albinus
Prepare this instant for the camp, to Tarquin.
[To Messala.
Let us unto the princess. I can boast
Some small experience in the ways of men,
Some knowledge of the heart. Now with keen eye
To look thro' her's. Who knows what prosperous snares
Her hands may form t'entrap these sons of Rome!