Sylla A Tragedy, In Five Acts |
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| 9. | SCENE IX. |
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 | Sylla |  |
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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 | |