University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Scene I.

—The Forum. The curule chair placed for judgment.
Enter Publius, Collatinus, and Lucretius.
Publius.
O Collatine, I fear. Men bring me word
That all last night he paced about the city,
Round every sacred place where altars rise,
And incense loads the air. At dawn he stood
Upon the Field of Mars, whence Romulus,
By storm embraced, was carried to the gods.
Some shepherds tell me how the consul stayed
His lonely steps, and lifted up his head;
They say the mighty apparition came,
With splendour of the sun, as once before
To Proclus Julius, who heard the charge:
Be brave, and ye shall make my city great
In all the earth. If thus it spake again,
Brutus will not be moved.

Lucretius.
Nor meet he should.

Collatinus.
We're bound by ties of our humanity
To rescue him from any such offence
As murder of his children.

Lucretius.
There's no spice
Of the wolf's nurture now-a-days. Our girls
Are fiercer than their husbands.

Collatinus.
O my sire,
Her death was cruel. Do not urge a deed
Of iterated anguish. My Lucrece,
Lay silence on his tongue, come from the shades,
And hold him back! It is impiety
To press a parent to destroy his sons;
The gods abhor such crime. Restrain your mouth,
You who have have been a father, I beseech,
From counsel so unnatural.

Lucretius.
Ha, ha!
What should you know of fatherhood? We men
Who breed the nation, rather would we live
Unwedded, or die childless, than affront
Our ancestors with infamous descent,
And stained posterity. A noble sire
Must call strong death to overthrow disgrace,
As Brutus will to-day. I had no need.
She died, and proved her parentage.

Collatinus.
They come,—
The lictors with the downcast criminals,
The consul, with fixed eyes, and at his side,
A flinching shape, a slavish countenance.
Who is the man?

Lucretius.
'Twill be a day for Rome!

[Enter Brutus, Vindex, the Prisoners, attended by Lictors.]
Brutus.
[To Lictors.]
Place the accused before me. Vindex, rise!
Give me your hand. See, fellow-citizens,
The saviour of your freedom, this old slave.
He, in the chamber where the traitors met,
Heard, without treachery, by god-made chance,
All that they, vile, imagined, and with oath
Swore as a man to dare. They went their way,
Leaving him unseen guardian of the scroll
Scored with their crime. Long while he weighed his course,
Betraying them by speech, by silence you,
Me, and our bondless city. [Holding up the scroll.]
This declares
The choice he made. He went to Publius,
He spake to save our liberties. Shall he,
Who so conceived of freedom's nobleness,
Be longer deemed a bondsman, a mere serf,
With thralled imagination?

All.
Nay, he stands
Emancipated, and we praise his deed
With grateful voices lifted in acclaim.

Titus.
What, Vindex!

Brutus.
Thou art free, thy chains are loosed.
I never was thy master with such joy
As now thy fellow-citizen. Look up,
And greet thy honour. Fall'st thou at my feet?

Vindex.

I thank your worships, I thank you; but 'tis
bred in the bone. Master, I'll never leave you. O gentles,
O good Roman senators, O my dear master, if I am
deserving, if I have served, if ye hold to rewarding me,
I ask but one thing, and I pray you to have mercy on my
prayers. Spare them, spare the young masters; strike
away their chains, and I'll be old Vindex for ever; no
disrespect to the freedom you've given me. But they're
born to it. Fetters on their white wrists!—it makes me
dead ashamed and frantic. They are not many to spare,
and I'll remain your faithful slave.

Brutus.

I hear thee not, and must command thee
hence.

Vindex.

O master, think again; forgive them. Your
worships look moved; help me to my reward. It's all
naught what you've done at me; I'm not changed by a
hair's-breadth. But, oh! they are changed. Their eyes
do not tell me what to do; there's a fear in them as they
dared not look about. It sickens me. I've no chattels;
they're all that I have in the world.

Brutus.

Remove this man; he doth not know his place.

Vindex.
[Aside.]

Ay, he does, and he'll set your little
light this evening, come what will. But we can never
speak together; there'll be no matter, and such guilt on
us. For the wonderful, great deed is worse than wickedness.
We shall never over-get it.

[Goes behind a pillar.
Brutus.
Now must I turn to judgment. These you see
Are traitors proved. I hold the very deed
That seals their condemnation. They have signed
Their sentence with their names,—behold. For this,
The darkest crime within our city's code,
Death is the righteous penalty.

Titus.
Not death!

Brutus.
What can you urge against the doom?

Aquilius.
Our faith
To Rome's old kings, the line of Romulus,
The makers of this city, of the laws
By which ye would condemn us. We defy
Your reading of their import.

Brutus.
[To his sons.]
Have ye aught
To say?

Tiberius.
I have not spoken.

Brutus.
Titus, you?

Titus.
Put me away from you, but not from life.
It is too soon. O father, let me live.
I did it all in play, in very sport;
I ever honoured you. You cannot kill.
O the blue sky!—not death!

Brutus.
Ye patient gods . . .

Titus.
You called me to the earth. I hardly knew
Its earliest joys that I should have the pain
Of going where they weep through dayless time.
O father, on all sides are axes, rods,
Like groves about the way to death; their shade
Gathers. Oh help me!

Brutus.
Senators, I now
Would finish.

Titus.
All who know me as his son,
All fathers here, beseech for us to live.

Collatinus.
Consul, there is a milder banishment
Than that to dusk Avernus. O'er the bounds
Of Rome the sorrows of the exile wait
Those who are proved unworthy of her faith.
Let these young countrymen no more consort
With us, frequent the shrines and hilly ways;
The hearth no longer glow for their return,
The household gods no longer watch their steps.

Publius.
O Brutus, we are men; thy mood extreme
Forces our nature overmuch. Relent!

Titus.
I hardly feel that I am on my knees,
I am so mad to hear you bid me live.

Brutus.
I do not bid you die; I sentence you
To death.

Titus.
O gods infernal! Like the rush
Of under water through a riven ship,
A hopeless darkness soaks into my life.
I sink, I'm lost. Save me!

Tiberius.
I ever felt
That I was born for some great cruelty,
To learn how pitiless a father is
Who never loved his children.

Brutus.
For your life
You also ask?

Tiberius.
No; that to give or take
Is yours, but as you judge, so must we learn
How meagrely you rate us, though your breath
Is housed within us.

Titus.
Dearest father, once
You caught my hand upon the Tiber's bank,
Because the mud was slipping towards the stream.
Then I was ignorant, and death was naught.

Publius.
He rises.

Brutus.
Lictors!

Titus.
Speak not to these men,
Unless to tell them we are not to die.
Think of our mother. Round about our birth
Was love, thy smiling brow, soft tendance, care,
The waiting nurses, gentle-handed. These
Relentless visages, these bitter rods,
Their unexpended anguish, the fierce axe,
Thy front like metal—round our death are these!
Is this the end of nurture? this? O gods!
Would I had died before I knew thy face,
Or thought thou wert my father, long before
My mother formed the title on my lips.

Collatinus.
Our tears entreat for them.

Publius.
From Roman eyes
Drops this demand for pity. Brutus, turn.

Lucretius.
My daughter casts the shield of her great act
'Tween him and your entreaties. He'll not budge.
I read his valour in the steady eyes
With which he met her blood.

Brutus.
I bid you keep
The lawful silence, while I speak the doom.

Titus.
O Father of the Capitol, great Jove,
Hold him from speech, forbid his tongue!

Tiberius.
In vain.
Would all the shame were ended!

Titus.
Save me, save!

Vindex.
[Aside.]

I can bear it no longer, to hear
them fight with their voices for life. [He kneels at the

feet of Brutus.]
Master, for very pity's sake, strive not to
be as the gods. 'Tis an infamy. See, there's rain from
your children's eyes, and not a Roman cheek unwashed.
Let the waters of our misery soften you!

Publius.
He speaks what fills our silence.

Collatinus.
For our breasts
Are heavy with compassion.

All.
Spare their lives.

Collatinus.
Let them be banished. Brutus, spare yourself.

Titus.
Let us not perish. Father, keep your name,
Kill not its meaning!

Brutus.
Lictors, to your work!

Scene II.

—The house of Brutus. By the hearth, Publia.
Publia.
The fire is out, cinders on everything,
Yet a fierce hope within me. I have tried
To pass the door, to look into the street;
It's like the brink of a great precipice,
That dizzies to behold. Here on the spot,
Where he has left me by the hearth, I'm held,
A stricken thing. . . . The silence seems to grow
A little colder every breath I draw;
It bars the air from me, and no one comes,—
Not Vindex. . . . Hark, I hear the cooing doves,
The life, the wail, the love! They shall not die.
Life, life! It is impossible. They come.
[Enter Brutus.]
Where are my sons? [He starts, then points downwards.

I cannot faint. I rise
Against you. All my womanhood detests,
And faces you. My sons! You saw them die
Naked and torn? You were a monster then!

Brutus.
Nay, Publia, not monster, more a man,
Though one that's hurt for ever, with a wound
That Lethe could not heal. But yet the law
Is without hurt, it's sacred body shows
No scar of violence, no red assault,
No desecrating stab of treachery,
And base exception. What though this poor flesh
Is hewn with murder, though my fatherhood
Hath died beneath the fasces, if there stand
Perfect and unattempted that great form
That rules the deeds of men!

Publia.
Child-murderer!

Brutus.
And thou didst yield thee to the servitude
And yoke of marriage simply for the boon
Of offspring! Slavish, mercenary lust!
How worthless is the woman when her name
Of mother is withdrawn!

Publia.
[Aside.]
I'm dumb afraid.
I would that I were far away on wastes,
Where I might call my children back, and shriek.

Brutus.
[Turning away.]
Is this my house? 'Tis after some great change
Things alter thus. I would assure myself
I am where I have lived. Let's look about.
No fire—and bread unbroken. . . . O gods, gods!
This is the little tablet where the boys
First learnt to write their letters. Publia,
Put it away. Mine eyes have borne enough.
Publia, you must not break the news again;
Vile traitors! . . . but to doom the little lads
Scratching their alphabet! I shall become
Brute, idiot, childish, raving, imbecile,
If you will force me to condemn my sons.

[Sinking on a seat with groans.
Publia.
He raves. [Going to the door.]
Your master! Vindex!—All the house
Echoes, yet no one comes. I think I hear
My name upon his breath. I could not go,
Nor touch him.—Vindex!—In this solitude
Is fate. I must return—Help!—not to him,
But to the icy hearth. [In low tones.]
I have no home.

Brutus.
[Frantically rising.]
Vindex, come in! He should have lien with you,
Being a slave. . . . You are
Co-mated. . . . I have cast her off; 'twere well
To have my wife debased before mine eyes;
It were a lighter thing
Than in the forum to pour forth my blood
At lictors' bidding. In Avernus' dusk,
I will stretch hands to them: they are my deed,
My act, my infamy, my viler part.
Thorough the throngs of Hades we will pace,
And I will bear them garlanded about
As some triumphal spoil. Think not that e'er
I will resign them to you: they are mine.
You have no home, for here, upon the hearth,
I leave you unespoused, and comfortless,
No Roman matron, a degraded wife,
A stranger, a conspirator, a slave.
[Publia swoons.
[Enter Vindex.]
O Vindex, hither! You have lost your charge.
Take you this woman to your custody,
Treat her in pupilage; 'tis my command
You tend her, Vindex. I shall look on her
No more: it may be you will find her dead;
Bring not her ashes to me. Cling to her.
You have been ever faithful.

Vindex.
Ay, to you.
It's brought us to this pass. [Aside.]
Oh, he's a man
Too fearful to consort with womankind.—
My pretty mistress.

Brutus.
[Turning to look on her as she lies.]
But Tiberius
Had nothing of her looks: he died a man.

[Exit.

Scene III.

—The Senate. Brutus, Collatinus, Publius, and Senators.
Publius.
The Tarquins are in arms.

Collatinus.
They press on Rome.
Sextus and Aruns lead Etruscan bands,
That devastate and hasten.

Publius.
In the city
The people harness for the coming fray,
And burn to strike for freedom. Let all swear
The oath that nevermore a king shall rule,
Nor anything remain within our walls
That threatens liberty.

Collatinus.
Lo! Brutus speaks.

Brutus.
Consul, to you I turn, not willingly,
But with firm trust. I love you, yet for Rome
I speak what seems like hatred. All the folk
Chafe at the name you bear—Tarquinius—
It binds them to the memory of wrongs;
Its syllables enslave them. Collatine,
Quit us for ever, of your own accord,
In amity; complete the benefit
Of building up a state, forego your place,
And leave Rome a republic.

Collatinus.
As ye will.
Brutus, you called me to the government,
And now dismiss me,—for an accident.
This is your justice?

Brutus.
Friend, the people's dread
Is groundless, yet they hold you bear the taint
Of tyranny: endure the ignorance
That blunders for the common weal.

Senators.
Depart,
Crowned by your country's love.

Collatinus.
Your jealousy
Procures this exile. Am I treasonous?
Read my offence.

Brutus.
[Aside.]
By heaven, his consulship
Is dearer than a child! [Aloud.]
Reluctance shows
The people's fear well augured. You resist?

Senators.
Take all your wealth.

Collatinus.
I'll travel to the home,
Among Collatia's vines, where once I lived
Not lonely. Fare ye well.

Brutus.
Peace! let us rise,
And mutely do him honour. In his stead
[Exit Collatinus.
One must be chosen to conduct the war,
That straightly must engage us.

Senators.
Publius.
Interprets best the citizens' desires.

Brutus.
And, for my part, I should confirm their choice,
Which must be made in haste. Let messengers
Summon the centuries; at early dawn
Rome marches with her consuls to the field.
Despatch this business, and return to me.
I crave a second wisdom, for my friend
[Exeunt Publius and Senators.
Is gone from me; 'tis the last severance;
I have divorced them all. No private love
Remains to me; my spirit, forced to wait
On the slow lips of deity, hath need
Of leisure absolute from base affairs
Of place, of honour, and of precedence.
Yet is my heart constrained for room to hold
Its joys, its aspirations, its belief:—
Mine eyes are hindered from their goal. Oh, fast
As fore-lived things crowd through the musing brain,
The wide, delivering ages press on me,
And all my wasting passions of regret
Put on virility and seek to serve.
What mans one like to-morrow? [Looks down on the crowd, mustering in the Field of Mars.]
Goodly sight!
O Romulus, they muster on thy plain,
They dominate; and in this general joy,
This buzz of liberty, I find release
From my o'erpressing heart. My hope is built
Upon the multitude; in them are hid
The treasures of the commonwealth, and as
They grow into a people, from the source
And fountain-head of freedom they will frame
The laws that shall exalt. Lo! Publius
Is chosen. [Advances to meet him as he re-enters, with Senators.]
Hail, my brother!

Publius.
Dearest bond!
Brutus, I feel an army in myself
From those acclaiming voices.

Senators.
Victory
Attend your holy war!

Brutus.
[To Publius.]
Our day is won.

[Exeunt.

Scene IV.

—House of Brutus. Publia, hanging round an urn; Vindex by her.
Vindex.

Nay, come out, mistress, and let the old slave
reach you some food. You've tasted not a bit, and your
cheeks wax as white as the ashes you dote on.

Publia.
Ashes—the strong, young limbs, the joyous hearts,
The comely faces! Ashes—all my toil,
My child-bed labour, and my nursing cares!
My pride, and all my motherhood burnt out;
And this the casket of my wedded love—
This urn? The icy metal strikes within,
And kills my feeble heart. Cold death, make haste.

Vindex.
[Aside.]

It all comes of that eaves-dropping.
I'm punished, for it never leaves my ears—their shrieks,
their cries for life, and the rods harrying them—it never
stops. Yet she bade me dodge about and follow them.
To think that they could touch their father's life. I'd
have winked at lesser villanies. And she does not
see how he misses them; that's worse. He's no pity for
himself, and he gets none. [Aloud.]
Lady, you think
not of your husband. You'll not die and leave him
untended? I could but wait on him, and all the while
he'd be alone. A wife can find her way within a man.

Publia.
I know no entrance. I could only reach
His distant being as his matron-wife,
The mother of his children. He hath shut
That gate, and barred it. I can never more
Come back to him. I'm banished, and must die.

Vindex.

Mistress, he is so tender about your health
and sorrows. He sent me to watch you, and stroked the
head of a little music-girl, urging her to play you back
into comfort. But the child is frightened.

Publia.
Brutus, I feel it—Brutus, thou art great.
But I am weak, and have no part at all
In what remains, now thou hast slain my sons,
And all my spousal brought to thee is gone.

Vindex.

She pants and clings to the bronze as she'd
press her heart through it. Her head droops. Mistress!

Publia.
My children, I will journey to attest
You have a mother still, who dies to keep
Her boys about her. Titus, do you moan,
Lost on the dull strand, shivering, condemned?
I'll come and play with you unearthly games
Around the mournful willows. I belong
Wholly to you, my sons. I brought ye forth,
And cherished. Now I'll fend for ye in hell.

Vindex.
[Looking doubtfully at her.]

I'll fetch master.
She'll not mind him now. He's kept away, for she never
spoke to him, and her look was like a dumb creature's.
Yet she's not hurt like him; she'll recover, when she gets
to her boys. They may be a bit changed; but no matter;
they're hers, and she'll own them. The lord Jupiter must
look to his case; it's a mystery for the gods. Now, I
wonder, shall I let be, or make believe she asked for him
at the last. Nay, nay, I'll just beckon him. I'm a free
man, and must leave off my slave's juggleries.

[Exit Vindex.

Publia.
Together come and meet me. You are mine,
Not his, not his! Gods! they are shuddering,
As though a spectre beckoned them. I'll keep
My flesh and blood;—boys, it is just the same.
There's a dark river rushing past my eyes;
Don't wail so on the banks. A lullaby,
For ye are children still. Ah, I forget.

[A strain of timid music.

[It stops; she dies.

[Enter Brutus and Vindex.]
Brutus.
Nay, Vindex, back! Before I enter in
I know what is. [Exit Vindex.]
O death, how soft
Thou work'st thy sentence! The reproach is gone,
And these young lips, that I have never touched
Since her sons' kiss, recoil from me no more.
Farewell, farewell! I have no part in ye;
My murderer's work is done. Now, when the Lars
Are wreathed, on happy days of festival,
When families are gathered round the hearth,
What worship shall I bring? Before the gods
I stand abhorred and monstrous. Shall I hope
To found a state upon a rifled home,
A murdered matron, a polluted house?
Can chastity and justice win no awe
Save by such sacrifice? Ah me! What guilt
It takes to breed one virtue. Would that heaven
Might judge me in the midst of my remorse,
And, by this urn and slowly-blanching corpse,
Assign my doom. I would feel punishment,
For in myself I cannot suffer more;
I grow a blank, and shall be imbecile
Unless I am afflicted. What! a stir,
A message in the air, a company
Of blessèd spirits, a triumphant strain!

Lares.
[Whispering.]
Brutus, Brutus!
Soon shall we meet thee;
Thy ancestors, fathers,
Loftily greet thee;
We of high influence
The guardians sublime,
With memory lighting
Indifferent time;
We who at festivals
Silently trod,
Each served, unbeholden,
An intimate god.
Soon shall thy glorious,
Terrible fame,
Wake young futurity,
Awed by thy name.

Lemures.
[Sighing.]
Woe, Woe!
We have no part nor lot
In honour's state,
We are remembered not,
Or cursed by hate.
Thy children, we shall crouch
Far from thy shade,
In uncheered company,
Dumb and dismayed.
No willing feasts of joy
To us are made,
Only propitiations desolate
From men afraid.
Alas, Alas!

Lares.
Joy and eternal praise.

Scene V.

—The battle-field.
Enter Aruns, Sextus, and Etruscans.
Aruns.
Advance, the light yet tarries, clear and full.
At night-fall we are victors.

Sextus.
Grant, O Mars,
I meet this Brutus in his borrowed mantle,
And strike him down beneath his lictors' feet!
The lust of battle scorches me.

Aruns.
Lead on
The troops of Veii; the Tarquinian band,
Follow my voice and guidance!

Sextus.
I will sweep
Round to the left wing of the enemy.
Our wrongs! Revenge!

[Exit with Veientines.
Aruns.
Here tramps the Roman front.
[Enter Brutus and Romans.]
Gods of my fathers, purple-robèd shades
Of rod-encircled kings, avert your gaze;
Wail in dishonoured tombs, your state and garb
Consigned to yon plebeian. Regal blood
Within my veins, be tameless; fire my breast,
Ancestral splendours! I will slay the thief,
Or join the plundered spectres.

Brutus.
Yonder rush
The hireling soldiers of a broken cause;
The king's most royal son is at their head,
Aruns. He seeks us. Romans, prove your birth,
Show how free swords can vanquish. Face them! March.

A Roman Soldier.
The generals! Behold! Each bears on each,
Like meeting eagles, and the very dust
They raise conflicts before-hand. Roman gods,
Keep the great consul!

Aruns.
Brutus, in your heart
My spear demands atonement.

Brutus.
And in yours
Mine will complete its labours.

[They engage and fall, transfixed each with the other's dart.
Aruns.
Here we end.
Thus our blood mixes! Brutus, thus we die—
I cannot leave thy side. Air! air!—The kings
Come up from Dis to meet me.

[Dies.
Brutus.
Earth, thy son
Resigns his rule, and faints back to thy arms.
Mother, I kiss thee not; my parting breath
More noiselessly shall greet thee.

[Dies.
Romans.
Let us close,
And crush these hateful strangers. He is slain,
Our consul, our deliverer.

Etruscans.
The prince!
Avenge his bleeding corpse! March on!

Romans.
Attack!

[Exeunt fighting.
[Enter Vindex.]
Vindex.

Where is he? I'm wounded, yet I cannot die
till I've found him. I'm not a slave now, and can follow
to the wars. But it's a strange place this battle-field, and
it dazes one. Or, it may be, I'm faint. [Coming on the

body of Brutus.]
He's turned to earth, and the red blood
in the dust. I'm dying; I cannot raise him. O master,
this is the freedom, and the gods give it to us all. . . .
It grows dark and rains. Tears end our story.

[Dies.

[Enter Romans.]
Romans.

We conquer the Veientines, but the Tarquins
Press hardly on our comrades. Haste to help!

[Exeunt.

[Enter Sextus.]
Sextus.
A hateful sight!—my brother and this man
By their death-dealing spears thus locked together.
Aruns, I grudge thy place, thy streaming blood,
Ennobled for all ages. Here I stand,
Marked for a death obscure. My raging pride
Yearned to be quenched in this avenger's heart;
It groans denied: my brother is preferred.
The Fates are women, and my end will be
Poor with their petty malice; yet their spite
Shall reach not to the generation's goal.
There's in me what is fatal, what shall kill,
When I am dead and swordless. If this man
Is Roman, so am I; my burning lust,
My appetite for domination, greed
Demanding for its ease a universe,
Abashed and sycophant—are these not powers
Of Roman birth, immortal tendencies?
Empire shall triumph. Coldly go the years
'Neath the chaste rule of consuls, but the flame
Is rising with the centuries, until,
Above the city's prostrate purity,
Will breathe compelling lust. Ha, ha! Lucrece,
The Rome that thou didst deem so virgin-like,
Whose gates I cannot force with all my war,
Shall bear the imprint of the ravisher.
I've nature with me; Brutus had the gods;
He trusted to allies: I trust the race,
The ardour of the brood, the burning sky,
The bitter, trampling pride. He drove me forth
From home and rule, he branded me with shame,
He lies with lips to earth, as when I turned
And looked on him at Delphi. Thou didst well,
Thou some-time Lord of Rome, to kiss the ground.
Back to thy mother's arms! Thy destiny
Hath been fulfilled: and mine hath yet to come.

[Exit.
[Enter Publius and Romans.]
Publius.
The sacred ground—Æsuvian meadow-land,
And Arsian grove,—is deluged; rain and blood
Blind us; we cannot see the enemy;
We can but feel, with blundering steps, the slain.
[Enter more Romans.]
How stands the foe?

Soldier.
The wind so baffled us,
It tore away our sight; we dared not pierce
The dark; it stood against us as a host,
And we were driven backward.

2nd Soldier.
Let us pray
The heavens to enlighten us, our case
Is desperate.

[Enter Marcus with Soldiers.]
Publius.
How fares the Etruscan band?

Marcus.
They shriek and count the dead confusedly,
Uncertain of the triumph; here and there
The fight continues 'mid the struggling troops.
We came upon a Tuscan in retreat,
Who groped about, and cursed the elements.
On him we drew; but in a deadly grip
He hugged us, shouting, Sextus has his day,
Then leapt with shrilling laughter in the night.
What after chanced none knows; the hurricane
Spread her fell targe betwixt us; much we fear
He has escaped.

Publius.
And better thus than slain;
Let no free Roman touch him.

A Soldier.
He is dread.
I fear the Tarquins will return to Rome.

Another.
The hateful race! They will enslave the land.
Thus is Lucretia righted?

Publius.
Romans, hear!
Night is upon us, and our destiny
Uncertain; not to-day shall be the end,
Nor I myself shall see the tyrants' blood
Dabbling your fields; but I shall rear ye up
A people of such honour that my rods
Shall be avaled before you. Ye, yourselves,
Shall brave the Latins by Regillus' lake,—
Your youths, so fair a cavalry, the gods
Shall ride beside them, and with them, transfix
The Tarquins on their spears, and over-tramp
Vile, slinking Sextus. When the fight is o'er,
At Vesta's holy temple, where the spring
Gushes, two horsemen shall wash off the stains
Of battle, and when men shall crowd around
For tidings of the field, say how 'twas won.
And a new fane shall rise where Lucrece lay,
In the centre of the forum. I would live
To see that day; I shall not, but 'twill be.

All.
Publius Valerius, our Publicola,
The people's friend!

Publius.
As the deep shadows grow,
Let us all gather where our Brutus lies.

1st Soldier.
We'll raise his statue in our midst.

2nd Soldier.
Our wives
Will never dry their tears for him, he stood
So mightily their friend.

Marcus.
He felt the wrongs
Of women as they'd natures of their own,
And use beyond child-bearing.

Publius.
Sacred use
Is theirs: the State will find her councillors
In creatures that have known no touch of man.
Our pious Numa felt the mystery
Of Vesta's service could not be divined
By families in worship round the hearth,
And to six spotless virgins gave the charge
Of her undying fire. They guard for us
The pledge of fate, the awful, sealèd jar
Of Rome's supremacy. O Marcus, fear
That part of womanhood that's like a shrine:
Methinks as sons we sometimes enter it,
As spouses never.

Marcus.
And you deem Lucrece
Changed all?

Publius.
She changed our Brutus from a baulked,
Uncertain creature to a steadfast man.
[Lifting Brutus.]
Marcus, look long at our dead consul's face.
Shall Tarquin over-live it?

Marcus.
Till the brood
Be wholly extirpate, I cannot die.

Publius.
[Still looking on Brutus.]
Oh, 'tis a further vision, it transcends!
He's dropt a secret in the common ear
Will never be forgotten. Lo, the moon
Shines clear above the tempest, and reveals
Our enemy.

[Enter Etruscans.]
Etruscans.
We claim the day. One man
We've struck beyond the number of your slain.

Voice
(from the Arsian grove).
Rome hath the victory,
She that obeys.
Nature from dewy groves,
High forest ways,
Lifts her mysterious,
Subjugate voice,
Breathing dominion. Hear,
Rome, and rejoice!

Marcus.
Meseemed across the twilight came a sound,
Scarce audible, from out the ancient wood,
Sighing great things that heave tumultuously
'Gainst my enthrallèd heart.

Publius.
Etruscans, say,
Heard ye a solemn, rustling oracle?

Etruscans.
With fear we heard, we throw away our arms,
The powers of earth declare against our strife;
We are your suppliants.

Publius.
Amity and grace
We grant to you for ever, who submit
To law and our Republic. We will keep
This joyful peace with all solemnity.
But first, within the shadow of the trees,
We'll lay great Brutus in his silent tomb,
Where evening winds shall stir the many boughs
That chose uncrownèd Rome to rule the world.