University of Virginia Library

Scene III.

—A room in Collatinus' house.
Enter Lucretia, flowers in her hand.
Lucretia.
I've roamed the garden; all the house is still—
I sent the girls to wash beside the stream;
We'll have all clean ere eventide. I plucked
A branch of myrtle; it is all for him
I suffered it. I could not lie stone dead,
And leave false Sextus to pollute his ear.
Besides, I had not looked on him my last:
Oh, how I love him! I have said farewell
To all our tender moments in the past;
And kissed his wedding-gifts, and laid them by.
The time has quickly sped; for I am full
Of the great honour I shall bring to him.
Had I died stainless, he had crept about
Disgraced and fearful; now Lucretia's spouse
Shall have a reverend name, and Roman wives
Rate by my deed the measure of my love.
It must be soon. [She looks out.]
They're coming up the hill.
He lags behind. I'll run and comfort him;
For never, never was I more his wife.
I cannot die. Gods, he is looking up,
And I back in my guilt . . . Fair human law
Awards the sentence: in his righteous sight
The body, yielded to base Tarquin's lust,
Be scourged by blushing record of its crime
To faintness, and then smitten by the knife.
Can I not now be executioner?
[Enter Collatinus, Brutus, Lucretius, and Publius; they all remain speechless.]
My father, thou hast never had a son
To bear thine honour to the battle-field;
To me, thy trembling daughter, thou didst tell
Stories of heroes, and my woman's heart
Hath caught the martial touch. I call to arms;
Those swords must all be bloody ere we part.
Give me your blessing; let me feel your hand.

[She stretches her hands to her father.
Lucretius.
My child, speak to us. I command you, speak!

Publius.
It is some private wrong; she cannot force
Her craven words to her will's summoning.

Brutus.
She's deadly hurt; speak to her, Collatine,
Before it is too late.

Collatinus.
What ails thee? Dear,
If thou name not the traitor, Rome is wronged,
And I robbed of my fame.

Lucretia.
[Wildly.]
Tarquinius . . .
Oh, I mistake . . . My husband, hadst thou heard,
By strongest proof, had one brought word to thee,
That he had found me lying with a slave
And slaughtered us, thou hadst believed this thing,
And lived dishonoured of thy countrymen,
Loathing thyself,—believed this?

Collatinus.
Of my wife?
As I should credit Roman infamy
From a bribed slave. [Lucretia swoons: they gather round her.]
Let's scrutinize her brow.
She's guilty. [To Lucretius.]
. . . There, look to't, she is your child.

[He thrusts Lucretia from him; her body falls at her father's feet.
Brutus.
Peace! patience!
She will revive; see, her scathed father stands
Mustering an army of his ancient loves
To gather round him, and to strike for her.
[To Lucretius.]
Spurius Lucretius, blush not at your name;
This lady does it honour. Oh believe,
And give her comfort, that her modesty
Yield not its life in travail of the words
That are its lawful issue. [Lucretia revives.]
We attend.

Lucretius.
Lucretia, we are armed. Where is't to strike?

Lucretia.
Father! [She kisses him and stands erect.]
Where is he? [Seeing Collatine.]
Thou, O my wrecked love,
Take heart; believe, I did but swoon for joy
That thou wouldst ever hold Lucretia chaste;
And for remorse that I, mistrusting thee,
Have borne the manners of unholy lust
In this my body—thy dear temple, spoilt
For any sacred use. I will be brief—
. . . In the night's inmost close
A creeping creature came to me, and swore
To make my lord an obloquy to Rome. . . .
He waited answer at my beating heart
With his compressing sword. . . . Alack! I live.

Collatinus.
[Unsheathing his sword.]
He lives—the name?

[They all unsheath.
Lucretia.
Swear to me, every one,
You will avenge me.

All.
We all take the oath.

Lucretia.
On Sextus; you are solemnly enrolled.
[They turn to the door.
A moment:—tell me, for my mind misgives,
What is the quality of my offence?
Can I be ever cleared, though you return
With reeking blades?

Lucretius.
My child, we will revenge.
You're safe.

Brutus.
We honour you.

Publius.
Lady, your woes
You've writ on Roman hearts, they there are graved
Eternally.

Lucretia.
My husband, you are dumb.
[Aside.]
A widowed face, but I, like Hercules,
Will fetch his bride back to him from the dead.
[Aloud.]
I'm glad you cannot so forget Lucrece.
One word more: I have told you all my crime;
There is no lurking witness in my heart
Not heaved up to my tongue, save this resolve—
[She feels for the knife.
Which, when 'tis done, I will bequeath to you,
The one thing worthy of you from your wife.
[Turns to the others.]
Now, Romans, to your work; my sword be first
To drink the expiation of my guilt.

[She stabs herself, and falls dead at Collatine's feet.
Lucretius.
Why, here's a Roman death! And the young lass
I scarce would give a blessing to; the nurse
Swore she would breed strong boys—a healthy babe.
Lucretia—but I reared her tenderly,
Had well-nigh made her vestal, for she seemed
Too heavenly
To learn her mortal use. . . . Thou liest there
Full of the secrets of a prince's lust,
The knowledge of a harlot 'neath the clasps
Of that pale parchment, and thou art not marred:
I kiss thee, I . . .

Collatinus.
Leave me—O gods!—my wife.

Lucretius.
You spurned her; she is Tarquin's sated lust
To you; I have begotten her,—her soul
Shines crystalline in its virginity.
[Turning to Brutus and Publius.]
Mine honourable friends,
I charge you, join me to avenge my child,
If you do hold her flawless; let no hand
Be raised for her that doth esteem her vile;
She's of my blood; I will not suffer it.

Brutus.
I draw the sword. [Taking the weapon from Lucretia's breast.]
Let's swear a bloody oath
That none hereafter shall be king in Rome.
Give me your blades.
[They dip them in Lucretia's blood.
We all will lift her up.
Cover her, Collatine; her funeral
We'll talk of in the forum. You are dumb;
For me, I can speak plain. O Publius,
Speech hath a holy use. Ye all shall hear
My praises of my kinswoman; attend.

[Exeunt, bearing Lucretia's body.