 | Sylla |  |
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ACT II.
SCENE I.
FAUSTUS, METELLUS.FAUSTUS.
What say'st thou? Claudius on the fatal list!
METELLUS.
Calm the despair that darkens o'er thy soul,
And think the author of it is—thy father;
That I obtained for thee the horrid secret...
FAUSTUS.
But while we thus delay, perchance he dies!
METELLUS.
Roscius has been beforehand with the morn;
He's with him, that I know.
FAUSTUS.
It is for me
To guard his life, to die with him if needful;
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METELLUS.
See, into what dangers
Thy friendship hurries him; thy presence there
Will render his destruction but more certain.
FAUSTUS.
You stop me.—Well then, I go, fly to Sylla—
He will behold my sorrows—yes, my father
Will surely hear me. Claudius, fear no longer
The blow that threats thee: at thy feet I'll die,
Or I'll obtain thy pardon.
METELLUS.
The dictator
Sleeps in th'interior of the palace, and
Forbids all access, even to his son.
FAUSTUS.
Thy jealous fury, traitor Catiline,
Doth promise thee the hoped-for sacrifice
Of fair Valeria's husband. Cursed author
Of crimes most horrible, my poniard's steel
Shall pierce thy heart a hundredfold: that heart
Drunken with blood, whose homicidal fury
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Miserable minion of a power I hate,
Thy death shall expiate thy crimes!
METELLUS.
Oh! Faustus,
In Heaven's name let the hope of innocence
Govern th'imprudence of thy fiery feelings.
FAUSTUS.
Oh! take then pity on my present trouble,
And give sweet counsel to my sorrows.
METELLUS.
I
Consent to't.—Promise in thy father's palace
To wait my brief return; I bear to Claudius
The consular fasces; 'neath a lictor's robe
Avoiding scrutiny of eyes; or ere
An hour, he flies these luckless walls.
FAUSTUS.
What hopes
You give me! Oh! how infinite the favour!—
I stay, Metellus; fly and save my life.
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SCENE II.
FAUSTUS,—Alone.
Ye Gods, who rule all human destinies—
Have ye, and past recall, condemned the Romans?
And if 'tis fitting that they feel your anger,
Ought ye at least to arm 'gainst them a hand
So dear to me? Oh! can I not defend
Claudius, hate Catiline, nor cease meantime
In my respect tow'rds Sylla? But the day
Begins to dawn—oh! light of death! Just Heaven!
What, Claudius! Wherefore com'st thou here?
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SCENE III.
CLAUDIUS, FAUSTUS.CLAUDIUS.
—To guard thee.
FAUSTUS.
Whom? me!
CLAUDIUS.
Thy danger follows close on mine.
I have kept watch to-night around the palace;
There's not a Roman whose magnanimous heart
Is not deep pledged on oath to punish him
Who weighs us down; I know the plots that threat
His life—incessantly he guards against them,
But they revive as often: Sylla must
Succumb him to the public hate, and well
I know what duty binds thee to his fortunes.
Tormented with a secret dark foreboding,
I stood beneath an obscure portico,
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I know not what designs, what hopes conduct them.
If it were...oh! methinks I seem to see
A band of sworn conspirators thus veiling
Their desperate purpose, and upon the death
Of the dictator founding their revenge,
In aid of liberty, the laws, and Rome.
'Tis thine to shield him with a filial arm:
I trembled for thee, therefore came I here.
FAUSTUS.
Oh! generous friend, what feeling thus for mine
Bars thine own safety? In this very palace
Know'st thou the fate prepared for thee? unknown
Thine own, thou thinkest only of my danger:
To save my life thou com'st where thine is proscript.
The hideous Catiline, with fiendish fury,
Has had thy name placed on the fatal list;
E'en now he bends his footsteps to thy house,
And death waits thy return.
CLAUDIUS.
I hasten thither.
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I did upbraid the Gods that they'd forgot me,
When Sylla, less in pity than contempt,
Refused t'admit me 'mongst the numbered proscripts.
[Holding him back.
FAUSTUS.
Well, go then, Claudius: throw away thy life,
But let the infamy attach itself
To me, of having been the cause of it.
I too know how t'escape the last of evils,
But if you die, Valeria too must perish!
CLAUDIUS.
Valeria! at that name my courage fails me:
Such love—such virtues!—
FAUSTUS.
Oh! then live for her sake.
CLAUDIUS.
Live! my dear Faustus!—what a wish thou formest!
Where must I fly? The world belongs to Sylla.
In life I feared him, and in death I brave:
To hate and yet obey's the lot of slaves.
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Were life's warm current but poured out for Rome!
Oh! had I lived but in those times when Carthage
Rolled ravage even to the capitol;
Or when in insolence fierce Hannibal
Bade his proud standards float upon our ramparts.
On the plain of Cannæ, or the Trebia's banks,
Claudius had then died whilst he served his country:—
But thus to fall unhonour'd! 'mid the clash
Of swords too!
FAUSTUS.
Well, then, guard this life so dear to us:
Unpitying Fortune weighs me to the ground,
And leaves but to thy friend this last, last hope.
CLAUDIUS.
And if I should consent to save my life,
Where must I fly, where hide me?
FAUSTUS.
Here, within
My palace; on a day so rife with sadness
'Twere best 'gainst those that follow thee t'oppose
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Then let them snatch thee from the hearth of Faustus!
CLAUDIUS.
I might expose you—
FAUSTUS.
Ah! let that no more
Have weight with thee, lest in the presence of
Valeria I accuse thee of betraying
Friendship, love, country.
CLAUDIUS.
To my latest breath
It is to them, the umpires of my fate,
I would devote my life, my death.
FAUSTUS.
Then let us
Haste to avoid this importuning crowd
That comes, adoring the Dictator's fortune,
Towards the palace gates t'await his waking.
CLAUDIUS.
Can he, the author of so many evils,
Know what it is to slumber?
[They enter the house of Faustus.
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SCENE IV.
CATULUS, OFELLA, BALBUS.Archelaus, Ambassador of Mithridates. Gordius, Ariobarzanes, Kings of Cappadocia. Ambassadors of the Parthians. Consuls. Senators. Courtiers.
The Gates are thrown open, and Metellus addressing Balbus, leaves the Palace.
METELLUS.
The palace gates are open, the Dictator
Himself approaches; be it thine t'announce
His presence to his clients.
[Balbus, advancing towards the background, and addressing the crowd of Clients.
BALBUS.
Kings, warriors, citizens, proconsuls, senators;
You first, ambassadors of untamed Parthia,
Here in this hallowed circle, brilliant with
His own fair statues, Sylla deigns t'accept
Your wishes and your homage.
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SCENE V.
The same Dramatis Personæ.Sylla,
after surveying the Assembly, and addressing himself to Gordius.
What has brought thee again before me, Gordius?
Know then that Cappadocia is free,
And thou no more her sovereign.
[To Ariobarzanes.
The crown
Of an ally deemed faithless by the senate,
Is, noble Ariobarzanes, thine:
Rome who protects, will punish too her kings.
Hence to thy country and enforce our laws:
My friendship lifts thee to the highest rank
Of princes.—As a Roman citizen
Go rule the provinces; ours thy support
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Found liberty.
[To the Ambassadors of Parthia.
The valour of a nation
Bold as the Parthians are and brave, I honour:
And I accept their friendship.
[Faustus Sylla enters, and, with evidently disturbed feelings, proceeds to place himself near his father.
To Archelaus.]
As for you,
The agent and support of Mithridates,
Return thee to thy master, Archelaus;
With a barbaric king I treat no more.
Go tell him that; and say, the blood he's shed
Hath placed, for ever placed a barrier 'twixt us.
The hundred thousand Romans he has murder'd
Shall, while he lives, sleep unrevenged—no longer.
[A Noise is heard from behind; an emotion of terror agitates the Assembly.
But whence arise these fears?
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Loud cries are heard;—
SYLLA.
Be calm: for why should they create surprise?
'Tis but the execution of my orders,
And none need fear, methinks: unless perchance
Some proscript yet remain t'await his sentence.
OFELLA.
A crowd, it seems, advancing t'wards the palace,
Wait the Dictator's presence.
SYLLA.
Well, what want they?
OFELLA.
Lænas, who heads them, in their name demands
Admission.
SYLLA.
Lænas!—He is charged withal
With a but dangerous message;—what has he
To hope for?—Lictors, open him a passage.
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SCENE VI.
The same, and Lænas.[He addresses Sylla.
LÆNAS.
Deputed by the Roman people, I
Here in thy presence do make bold to ask
Some questions.
SYLLA.
Ask some questions! what, of me!
Thy boldness, Lænas, hath, in truth, surprised me.
Yet speak,—I do consent to hear thee.
LÆNAS.
Sylla,
Uncertainty is worse than death; then tell,
Tell us what fate awaits us; cannot yet
So many funerals satisfy thee? wouldst thou
O'erthrow our very city in our blood?
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And wilt thou set no limits to thy fury?
SYLLA.
You see I know, too, to command my feelings;
It is perhaps sufficient that I give
Thee audience.
LÆNAS.
When I came within these walls,
Not for a moment did I cherish hopes
That I should ever have the power to leave them.
SYLLA.
I hear thee, Lænas.
LÆNAS.
What dost thou ordain?
To what decision art thou come?—speak out!
Let one day see unrolled the deathful list:
Tell us the fate of all thou hast condemn'd.
Sylla, how many are proscribed?
SYLLA.
I know not—
With thee I share the doubt on which thou build'st
Thy confidence.
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Well, but announce the names
Of those decreed to live.
SYLLA.
Lænas, return;
And by returning shew to those that sent thee
That I know e'en to spare mine enemies.
LÆNAS.
I know my fate; that order tells me it,
And to the Roman people it shall be
Mine answer.
SYLLA.
Hence, I say then, lest my rage
Should punish, and with justice, in thy person,
The legate of the proscripts.
[Addressing Metellus, after the exit of Lænas.
Asia, consul,
Murena holds, and 'gainst Sertorius
I have bid Pompey march; 'tis time, methinks,
To punish that ambitious traitor, one
Alike deserter of our laws, our Gods.
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Who raised 'gainst Rome his parricidal hand,
And sullying his last rays of life with treason,
Implores the succour of a foreign sword.
CATULUS.
But he with Mithridates is in league.
[To Metellus.
SYLLA.
I fear not in the least their base alliance:
A traitor sure can suffer the example
Himself has set.—Perpenna holds his camp
Hard by Sertorius—Cesar has asked Gaul;
And far from Italy his steps are turned,
He marches in Bithynia. Nicomedes
Demands no frail support, and it is fit
That Cesar make the best use of his valour.
But I go soon to join th'assembled senate;
I will there hear you, for 'tis best we there
Should treat of matters of such high importance.
[Upon a motion of the hand from Sylla, the whole Assembly depart. The Kings and the
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SCENE VII.
SYLLA, FAUSTUS.FAUSTUS.
Sylla, you turn your eyes from me; you fear
My cries—Oh! fly not from me, deign to hear me.
Thy son alone, of all the Romans who
Submissive own thy power, feels he's no cause
To blush for having ever disobeyed thee.
Nature and love impose an equal law,
And are these sacred duties to thee nothing?
No more of Rome, my country, do I speak—
'Tis for my friend, 'tis for myself I plead,
And at thy feet a pardon ask for Claudius.
SYLLA.
My son, thou knewest not the dread Sulpicius:
But shouldst thou still be ignorant, how he
That vile impostor, most inexorable
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Thy mother spread the tainture of his crimes!
How forced he her scarce living from this palace;
Raised high the fiery brand: and to complete
The outrage, of the godlike Scipios broke
The statues! In these days so full of horrors,
Base flatterer of the people, Marius' agent,
Surpasses e'en his fury.
Such was Sulpicius, such would Claudius be;
And yet, unfaithful to the blood that gave
Him birth, my rank, my glory, tender friendship,
For him alone, for Claudius, does my son
Reserve his pious pity.
FAUSTUS.
Catiline
Has on these points deceived you. Yet thou know'st
The monster that accuses him; thou know'st
The lustful loves that fire his soul:—it is
A favour'd lover whom th'assassin strikes at.
Despair has doubtless lour'd o'er Claudius' brow
To have beheld fair freedom ravished thus
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His soul so cherished serves to make the pupil
Of Caius bear thy chains with deep regret:
Yet does his generous heart, all wed to Rome,
Old worshipper of sacred Liberty,
Cursing th'ancestral arm by which she fell,
Marius condemn, ay, even more than Sylla.
Be not insensate to the voice that pleads
Pardon for Claudius: there's yet time to save him.
You answer not, and yet you see my grief!
Oh! in the name of Heaven, my father, ask,
Ask but thine heart.
SYLLA.
Faustus, the law has said it.
And if my duty bids me put that law
In force, my private wishes bar delay.
But still, despite its rigour, these dark words
Shall veil my clemency; and if, far from
These walls removed, Claudius by flight attain
To baffle his pursuers, to the spot
Where as an exile Fortune leads his steps,
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FAUSTUS.
Oh! how that hope relieves my weighed down soul!
And bids me only think on thine own dangers;—
Thy power, thy courage lift thee 'bove the horrors
That strike my eyes and press upon my soul.
I see each day, pregnant with fearful omens,
Roll darker clouds to swell the storm of fate;
And that same Liberty, Rome's best-loved idol,
Turn 'gainst thyself the very arms thou gav'st her.
SYLLA.
Beneath the fate predestinate to fall
Upon our heads, calmly I march amidst
A thousand tempests. Had it been but ours
T'have lived, O Faustus! in those times when Heaven
Beheld the Romans virtuous, free, and proud
Of poverty by glory's ray ennobled,
Fight boldly for their country, die and conquer;
They should, my son, have seen me, Decius' rival,
Surpass the valour of Rome's bravest sons.
Those days are far, far gone; the laws no more
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Beneath Licentiousness expires, and Rome,
The despot of the world, is now become
But one vast prize open to adverse factions.
Forced to renounce the virtues that adorn'd
That by-gone age, I bow myself to Fortune;
For it was she that formed me, it was she
That raised me thus to greatness, in despite
Of my own wishes; I received the gift,
But with it not her law. I have o'erturned
The state but to rebuild it; I was born,
I feel it, to upraise or to destroy:
And I fulfil my destiny. I lead
T'wards Liberty a powerful people, though
'Tis by enslaving them I do it.
FAUSTUS.
Oh!
Ye Gods, how sad a triumph crowns the conquest!
Old Scipio sought a far, far other glory;
He taught the world to pay respect to Rome,
But 'twas for Carthage he reserved his chains.
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By a proud, haughty senate that again
Brought back to the republic all these evils;
Thou know'st how, when old Marius' thirst of power
Armed the despair of an unhappy people,
The proscript of Minterna challenged him,
Whetting his poniard at the hands of vengeance.
Thou com'st, dost combat;—in submission all
Bow to thy power—yet canst thou not, oh! pardon
The boldness of a son, when at thy feet
Thou see'st discord trampled down for ever,
Punish, as thou'st o'ercome, her like a hero?
All to thy yoke submit, why stain it then
With blood? ought he that conquer'd Marius
To follow his example?
SYLLA.
Never yet
Was't mine to follow his blind fury; No—
The blood I've shed was for my country shed,
And soon perchance the Romans and thyself
Will at my hands demand e'en that I've spared.
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SCENE VIII.
FAUSTUS, SYLLA, ROSCIUS.SYLLA,
to ROSCIUS who enters.
Well, and what say they? they exclaim no doubt
Against my tyranny, are angry, perhaps?
ROSCIUS.
The terror of thy name congeals their souls,
But they fear death already less than scorn;
The people hearing of thy threats, at daybreak
In mournful silence took their usual station,
Moved to and fro tumultuously, and with
An eager eye turned t'wards the palace, sought
To read thy next stern order;—'mong the names
Inscribed upon the bloody list, is one
Second to none in yon vast crowd's affections.
The name of Claudius, youthful hero, flies
From mouth to mouth, 'mid countless groans; they vaunt
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His proud ancestral birthright; it doth seem
As if all hearts, pierced through by woe, had lost
In him those hopes of fortune they had cherished.
Nor was it long before they stood around
The house of Claudius, moved with pity for
The fate of him they mourned—their voice that now
Strikes on the air as they call out for Sylla,
Maddens in anger too 'gainst Catiline.
Thither I hasten'd, and endeavoured, though
In vain, to calm the terrors of Valeria,
Who, all in tears and ignorant of the fate
Of one so dear, esteem'd his absence death.
Loud cries are heard, and as the mob approach,
Valeria rushing to the door, with hair
Dishevell'd, on the threshold kneeling, cries,
“In Heaven's name, Romans, give me back my husband!”
Hurried along by these heart-rending words,
They place her on a brazen pedestal,
And upon that tribunal, as she speaks,
All eyes are turned, all hearts alike are fixed.
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Of her bold eloquence, nor wound thine ear!
But the respect—
SYLLA.
Proceed—she did her duty.
I've told thee, Roscius, I would know the whole.
ROSCIUS.
“No longer, citizens,” she cried, (and as
She spoke, the animation that her words
Threw o'er her, render'd her more beautiful,)
“Has Sylla punishments the which ye know not;—
T'await his fury here again behold us.
And think'st thou, Rome, that he will spare the blood
That yet remains unspilt? I tell thee, No—
Prænestes' destiny will soon be thine.
What weigh thy hopes against his wishes? Force
Is our sole right, to die our only duty.
Our fears are banished by excess of terror,
Voiceless the heart, and tearless is the eye;
Despair itself no longer sways our feelings,
And the tomb shuts in silence on the dead.
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Yet Sylla, tearless, tranquil views the picture,
And counts, with unpaled cheek, the wretched victims
His homicidal nod has chilled in death;
Our past foretels our future destiny;—
Come, let us count how many dead have pass'd
The Colline gate—there in the sacred porch
Where Vesta's altars burn, let's haste and see
Another Scævola expire;—ah! Romans,
'Tis for yourselves my voice implores you; Sylla,
Reeling in blood, would wish to shed yet more.
By woes united, as alike by danger,
Who would remain a stranger to my wrongs?
Who is there 'mongst you, in this day of shame
And misery, but trembles for a son's,
Or weeps a father's fate? Already have
Two women changed their country's destiny,
And sheathed the dagger in their breasts to do it.
Oh! would ye at an equal sacrifice
Give me but hope, my blood like theirs should dye
The steel of Freedom;”—with these words she rushes
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Instant the people swear, with deaf'ning shouts,
To save the proscripts...add to which the Gauls
With terror in their rear are just in sight,
Their wild bands headed too by Catiline.
Far from the threat'ning storm the people fly,
And their late noisy waves subside in silence!
SYLLA.
Such is their boldness, Roscius, mark it well,
When a few Gauls can freeze their boasted courage!
FAUSTUS.
Yet surely the despair of Caius' sister
Must not be deem'd as idle—should the mob
Who love her e'en as they lament her husband...
SYLLA.
Unheedful of the ills he ne'er may know,
'Tis time for them to fear, when he's in danger.
For ever ready to oppose the law
Of the Dictator, as for ever ready
T'obey the lictor's nod.
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The Romans have
Avenged Virginia's and Lucretia's cause.
SYLLA.
Where are these Romans?
FAUSTUS.
Heavens! it is Valeria!—
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SCENE IX.
FAUSTUS, SYLLA, VALERIA.Valeria, surrounded by Lictors, with dishevelled hair, and beating her bosom.
VALERIA.
Give way!—who is there that shall bear me hence?—
I wish to see the tyrant...
SYLLA,
(coldly.)
She can approach.
VALERIA.
Glut, cruel as thou art, thy hateful soul:
Gaze on me! I'm indeed unfortunate.
SYLLA.
Lictors, withdraw—and you too, Roscius, leave us.
VALERIA.
I know thee too well, Sylla, too well love
My Claudius, to seek for mercy at
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Whose stern decree this 'cursed day perfects.
Thy clemency can easily content me,
Tell me my hapless fate, 'tis all I wish:
I ask not our offence; to thee alike
Courage, shame, speech, e'en silence is a crime.
I come not here to frame a poor excuse,
Or to disarm thy hand, and save my husband.
I share, or rather in his breast excite
The generous hatred and deep horror which
My husband feels at thy long tyranny.
Together we implored our country's Gods,
And far from thee in dark obscurity
Our prayers were all for Liberty and Rome.
In woes alike united as in hopes,
Why in thy day of vengeance wouldst thou part us?
Yes, Claudius is a hostage for thee, Sylla,
And tremble if thou giv'st me cause to fear
For other than myself.
SYLLA.
I do not dread
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The weakness of thy sex—thy husband 'tis
Conspires against me, and while as Dictator
I exercise the rigour of the law
Upon her enemies, more merciful
As Sylla, I grant pardon to Valeria.
VALERIA.
I fear thy pardon far more than thine anger;
And of the ills thy cruelty has shed
Upon us, I most dread thy clemency.
Oh! spare at least this horrid punishment,
And grant that I may perish near my husband:
And be the death whate'er it may, you'll be
Less ready to ordain, than we to suffer.
And thou too, Faustus, dost thou too keep silence?
And turn away thine eyes from me? dost fear
My presence would to-day reclaim the rights
Of friendship, and accuse thy heart with want
Of pity? but take courage—well I know
Thine every meaning, all I may expect
From him, the son of Sylla.
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Situate
As thou art now, Valeria, thou should'st curb
The rage of thy despair, nor more accuse me.
VALERIA.
What, when my husband's perished!—
FAUSTUS.
He perchance
Yet lives...
VALERIA.
Where is he then? Oh! speak.
FAUSTUS.
I know not.
VALERIA.
Thou know'st not! no—the paleness that o'erspreads
Thy conscious brow reveals the horrid secret.
I know thy meaning, and abjure a hope
So faint;—oh! there were times when either Marius
Knew what it was to lean to clemency:
Sylla, the dreadful Sylla, never pardons.
Well, in thy palace here, come, slay his widow,
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Flies but to arm the people's vengeance 'gainst thee.
I'll not invoke the feeble aid of those
That quick disperse them at thy lictors' presence;
If Rome no longer can boast sons to rise
And burst a despot's chains and punish him,
She yet has daughters that shall dare to do it;
Mothers, whose sons thy rage has sacrificed;
The widows, wives, and sisters of the proscripts,
Await my coming, and though Heaven still spares,
Our arms shall rid the world of, Rome's destroyer.
FAUSTUS.
Oh! Heavens! where dost thou run to?
VALERIA.
Death, or vengeance!
FAUSTUS.
Guards! keep her back...
SYLLA.
Let her depart.
| Sylla | |