University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

CATILINE, ROSCIUS.
CATILINE.
The populace are all commotion;—yes,
A female rebel calls them openly
On to sedition; not a man is found
Her griefs have failed to move, her cries t'inflame.
None fear t'afford a shelter to the proscripts,
And Claudius, by a traitor warned of danger,
E'en now by flight insults his master's orders.

ROSCIUS.
What matters it he's cleared the walls of Rome?
Whether on barren rocks, in dreary caves,
Hate still pursues him; evil destiny
His only crime, and wheresoe'er he flies
The dogs of vengeance follow up their victim.

CATILINE.
Roscius is apt to feign unreal sorrows.

ROSCIUS.
Thou know'st, far better than I do, to ope
The source of grief—I but paint tyranny
To make it odious—as alike ambition
To shew its folly; and that vice, the more
Puff'd up by hateful triumph, till arrives
That hour, though late, with Heaven's full vengeance charged,
That hideous one of calumny.

CATILINE.
And so
'Tis thus that Roscius shews his profound wisdom;
Conscious suspicion ne'er can fall on him;
The senate, the Dictator too condemning,
Declares himself to-day the friend of faction,
And comes, relying on the people's favour,
Yea, rather adoration, to display
The virtues of the stage here in the forum.

ROSCIUS.
The scornful words just utter'd, and which ne'er
Before have stigmatized my name, are met
By Sylla's favour and by Cato's friendship.
In vain would Catiline pretend he knows not
The sentiments he here has heard me broach.
Plots I detest, and whosoe'er they be,
The authors of them—but I fear alike
The contrary, and hate informers; with
Disdain I see those hireling flatterers,
Consular slaves, deck'd out in faded purple,
Destroyers of their own all-hallowed altars,
In turn to Marius and to Sylla cringe,
Pursue a guiltless rival to his fate,
And force him to become a base accomplice.

CATILINE.
I would not know what mean thy words, but leave
Thy useless declamation its free course.
Ready in all things to obey the nod
Of Sylla whom I serve, I waste no time
In scrutinizing what I should oppose;
His interests alone I deem my right,
Nor stop to weigh it in the scales of justice.
What the Dictator wills is always just,
Claudius is proscript, Claudius must be guilty.
Thou wert thyself discovered in his house,
Ere break of day, planning his secret flight,
And hast, concealing his retreat, become
Th'accomplice of his treason: but, mark well,
It is my voice expounds the senate's fiat—
Answer—where is it Claudius bends his steps?

ROSCIUS.
Knew I but where myself, thou shouldst not know;
And thy perplexing doubts have well repaid
The injury thou hast done me—Go, denounce
My silence to the senate—I consent to't.
Tell them that Roscius, though the lictor's rod
Hangs o'er him, still is ready to repeat
Disgrace await th'informer!

SCENE II.

CATILINE,
—Alone.
Roscius, affect a haughty virtue; triumph
In all thy scenic insolence—for not
E'en Sylla's favour shall avail t'avert
Thy footsteps from the snare thy friends have set.
Or to thy gardens at Hersilia,
At Arpinum, or Alba, hies the traitor
Claudius, to seek for refuge;—but in vain
He flies my piercing ken; there's yet where I
With greater certainty await my rival.
The faithful servant of a hallowed temple,
The framer of a plot, whose purchased zeal
Is at my bidding, offers to my foe
A refuge in that sacred spot; and if
He is but seen there once, he dies. His crime
Is proved against him, and the law, whose power
The senate wields by the Dictator's arm,
At distance opens an abyss, and I'll
Compel him to the leap.

SCENE III.

CATILINE, FAUSTUS.
FAUSTUS.
Oh! Heavens! what, Catiline!...

CATILINE.
Must I believe
That in this place, where now we've met, my presence
Is painful to the eyes of Faustus; that
His enmity in anger would repulse
The friend, the guardian, pupil of his father?
Faithful to aid his power, zealous to serve him,
Rome learns from me th'example of obedience.
I should be sorry to suppose my zeal,
So faithful to his cause, should but receive
As its reward the hatred of his son.

FAUSTUS.
Ah! if unceasing toils, exploits unheard of
Can give the right to serve one's country, if
In the excess of glory, Freedom dies,
Then that sad victory is surely Sylla's:
But thou, the shame of Rome, what claim hast thou
That joined not in the fight, to rank thyself
Amid this band of heroes? In what camp
Were spent thy days of boyhood? answer me:
Whose blood imbued thy sword? At peace with Greece,
At peace with Germany, with Parthia too,
Thy rage, but free from danger, slew the Romans.
Struck by thy parricidal poniard fell
The youthful Lepidus, and noble Marcus;
Sure a most courteous murder:—Perished thus
Beneath the blows of a young monster's arm,
Our present glory, and our future hope.
Nor could thy furious rage desist e'en there:
Thy household altar own'd thy brother's death;
In vain Night spread her curtain o'er thy crime,
For Catiline himself confess'd the murder.
Twice sacrilegious, in the fane of Vesta
A brother's blood has dull'd the lustral wave.
Such are thy claims to share a hero's honours,
Such are the hideous labours of a senator,
And such is Catiline....

CATILINE.
Thy faithful memory
Will doubtless call to mind, that at all seasons
And in all places, what you term a crime
Was done for Sylla, and avowed by him;
And that, while Faustus so severely turns
'Gainst me his accusations, he but breathes
Curses upon his father. Even now
He bids the senate disannul a law
On which depends the safety of the state.
I go, the echo of his sovereign voice;
And should it ere be deem'd by Faustus cruel,
Or branded with my name, the only boon
I ask, is, to enforce, myself in person,
The law of the Dictator.

SCENE IV.

FAUSTUS, TEUCER a Mute.
FAUSTUS.
I know this law of blood and sacrilege,
The privilege of which thou goest to seek...
Then, ere it reach the ear of Claudius
Let's realize the hope his heart has formed.
He waits to see Valeria, and he here
Can see her free from danger. (To the Mute.)
Teucer, watch
With care the precincts of the palace; and
The moment Sylla leaves the senate, let
A trusty messenger apprize me of it.

SCENE V.

FAUSTUS, VALERIA.
VALERIA.
Oh! Faustus, is it life or death awaits me?
And Claudius?...

FAUSTUS.
He yet lives;—I know the place
Of his retreat...

VALERIA.
Finish...

FAUSTUS.
Friendship has then
Received thy husband 'neath her guardian roof.

VALERIA.
And I've accused thee 'mid my weight of sorrow!...
I cannot doubt but that that friend's thyself.

FAUSTUS.
To whom else should he have recourse than me?
What other dies disgraced if he survive not?

VALERIA.
Thy friendship does yet more, since it has bid
Us meet again—I fear no more for him:
Together we shall perish—Tremblingly
I count the precious moments.—Oh! permit
Me but to see him.

FAUSTUS.
He is in thy presence.

SCENE VI.

FAUSTUS, VALERIA, CLAUDIUS.
Valeria, running up to Claudius, who appears under the Peristyle.
VALERIA.
O my dear Claudius!

CLAUDIUS.
Is it thou, Valeria?—
All my past life's misfortunes are repaid
By this one moment—it has all fulfill'd
My bosom's fondest wishes.
[To Faustus.
To thy friendship
Am I for all indebted.

FAUSTUS.
In it see
The omen of a happier future; let
Love, courage, and fidelity to-day
Unite, and triumph o'er the frowns of fortune.
But I, less favour'd far than you, must strive,
Painful as is the task, to reconcile,
Though my rebellious heart may murmur at it,
The vows of friendship and the voice of nature.
Proscripts and citizens! of all the evils
'Neath which you groan, the unjust author is,
I own it, the Dictator; but the while
I wish you to escape his cruel law,
I should remember too he is my father,
And that there is indeed a sacred duty
Which bids my reverence for him oppose
Itself to your despair—'Tis not for me
To reprimand his violence, but leave
An open path which now my presence checks.

VALERIA.
How can we e'er repay thy benefits,
My noble friend?

FAUSTUS.
Grant but a pardon to
The author of thine ills.

[Exit.

SCENE VII.

CLAUDIUS, VALERIA.
CLAUDIUS.
I then again behold thee, dear Valeria!
But to what place has hostile fortune led thee?
'Tis the Dictator's palace!

VALERIA.
And what then?
I see thee, and am sure of dying with thee.

CLAUDIUS.
Bring not that fearful image to afflict me.

VALERIA.
It should sustain, should animate thy courage.
Oh! if the Gods have fixed thy term of life,
Tell me where 'tis on earth I must seek succour?
Of which of thy fell murderers must I ask
With suppliant voice thy blood-stain'd corse; and in
Despair, my tears disgracing, sad implore
The honours of a solitary pyre?

CLAUDIUS.
Ah! can I, without shudd'ring, think that Hymen
Has with his silken bonds imposed on thee
A proscript's destiny: thou, whom thy name,
Thy virtues, ancestry—had called to such
Exalted greatness, were we now, as once,
In our bright days of glory!

VALERIA.
'Tis my wish,
Tiberius' sister, and Cornelia's daughter,
T'adore my country in my spouse. And Claudius,
When Rome loud clanks the chains of slavery,
Seems in my eyes, though proscript, greater far
Than Sylla, lord of the whole universe.
Nothing remains to wish for; I have found
In thee the ardour that hath roused, the hate
That hath inflamed me. Let us cease all vain
Debates 'bout life and death; has fate but left
This one last day? then by a term so short,
Bounding our hopes, let's strive e'en yet to find
In it the hour of vengeance.

CLAUDIUS.
I've revolved
Within my breast the noble thought: and oh!
Were I but free a day, success were certain.

VALERIA.
Nor are we without friends, who, like ourselves,
In the same cause devote their lives: Aufidius
And Lænas follow in my footsteps; dress'd
As slaves they wait the moment...But I see them.

SCENE VIII.

The same,—and Aufidius and Lænas, habited as Slaves.
CLAUDIUS.
Ye Gods!

AUFIDIUS.
Claudius yet lives...

CLAUDIUS.
Though favouring Heaven
Grants me to see you in this fatal palace,
Yet are our moments number'd, nor is't fit
That they be lost to us; yes, brave Aufidius,
And Lænas, most implacable of foes,
You see what evils press upon our country.
Already the republic breathes its last,
And faded is its glory; Rome herself,
The widow of her people, sorrowing sees
E'en now the bloody laurel stain her coffin.
The Arab wanders o'er his burning sands,
The wild beasts of the forest have their caves,
While, Romans, you, by a strange destiny
The world you rule refuses you a tomb!
One man alone, amid a universe
Of slaves, is free.

LÆNAS.
No, my dear Claudius,
There breathes e'en yet upon the Tiber's banks
One virtuous mortal far more free than Sylla.

VALERIA.
The man who knows to die.

LÆNAS.
The man who dares
To strike the tyrant.

CLAUDIUS.
If my friends but aid
My courage in th'attempt—behold him here!
You are aware of my design; to-morrow,
As is the custom, the Dictator offers
A sacrifice to the Gods—on those new altars
He bore away, the spoils of ravished Greece,
He goes t'invoke the favour of the Goddess,
To aid the evil destiny of Rome.
To that same temple, soon as night comes on,
I bend my steps: the pontiff's self in secret
Will introduce me—In the deep recess
Of that all-hallowed sanctuary, I'll wait
The coming of the tyrant—to his words
Of blood I will myself reply, and in
The presence of the Oracle itself,
And him, its instrument of fate, rush forth,
And, aided by the cry of Liberty,
Pierce his heart's inmost core.

AUFIDIUS.
In this so bold
A project never shall my zeal be wanting.

VALERIA.
And I will bring with me a faithful people.

AUFIDIUS.
Roused by the name of Marius, be it mine
To arm the hands of our plebeian friends.

VALERIA.
We have a party, too, 'mong the patricians:
And the young Cesar, if I'm not deceived,
Will hold for us one half the troops of Pompey.

CLAUDIUS.
That is our every hope...but Lænas speaks not;
Approves he not of a so noble project?

LÆNAS.
And 'tis in such a spot you frame your plans;
Dispose of time when scarce an hour's your own;
How great a mystery must needs enshroud them!
What obstacles give way before we strike!
While yet far off you seek the hope of vengeance,
Beneath your eyes the victim waits the blow:
Why then, 'mid dangers which may yet be thwarted,
Risk a success which you are sure is certain?
Your country asks a victim at your hands,
And fate gives you the power to offer it.
This palace, thanks to Faustus, to your steps
Is ever open—It is here at night
Veiled 'neath her shades, alone, the tyrant comes
(Save the dark train of fear and sad remorse)
To meditate upon the crimes of Rome.
'Tis here, beneath your arm, he ought to perish—
Here expiate his guilt, here fall.

CLAUDIUS.
No, never!
Who, I? Shall I abuse a privilege
Most sacred! sullying with blood the roof
That gives me its protection! Sylla, whilst
Within th'inclosure of these walls, holds pledged
My honour for his safety; and whilst here,
His life, though hateful, still for me is sacred.
How would fair friendship's virtues be repaid!
—Accepted the son's gifts but to destroy
The parent!

LÆNAS.
To dethrone a tyrant—to
Avenge thy country...

CLAUDIUS.
At the very hearth
At which his son's received me?

VALERIA.
To thy words
My heart gives back an echo; yes, let's save
Our country, but oh! not by perfidy.
Let Sylla at the temple meet his death,
And that in open day too.

CLAUDIUS.
The high priest
To-morrow will admit me there.

LÆNAS.
To-morrow!
Will that be soon enough? thou know'st the law,
The infamous Licinian law! the senate
E'en now proclaim it; death, immediate death
Awaits whoever may retard its course
By sheltering a proscript. Friendship's roof
Is trampled in the dust: nor one alone,
But all partake alike the common ruin.

CLAUDIUS.
Is it so, Lænas? I must then away!
Let's part; I go.

VALERIA.
Oh Heavens! what, at this hour!
Would you perfect then a design so sad!
You perish if you quit us.

CLAUDIUS.
Faustus dies
If I remain.

LÆNAS.
The law of the Dictator
Will not include his son.

CLAUDIUS.
His son himself
Was number'd 'mong the proscripts; let's begone.

VALERIA.
O Faustus, Faustus, I invoke thy presence!

SCENE IX.

CLAUDIUS, VALERIA, FAUSTUS.
FAUSTUS.
I come.

VALERIA.
He would begone.

FAUSTUS.
Oh! Heavens, what madness!
Where wouldst thou go, unfortunate? Thou know'st
What fate awaits thee; leave these walls and death
That moment meets thee—tarry here awhile
As thou hast promised.

CLAUDIUS.
I abjure my promise:
It will expose thy life.

FAUSTUS.
Who told thee that?...

CLAUDIUS.
All, I know all.

FAUSTUS,
(withholding him.)
Thou shalt not go.

CLAUDIUS.
I ought—
I wish it.

FAUSTUS.
Go, then, I attend thy steps.
Thou tell'st me of the law—I will accept
Its justice—come, denounce my crime, betray
Me thine accomplice.

CLAUDIUS.
Cruel friend, that word
Enchains me to the spot.

VALERIA.
To-night, the temple—

FAUSTUS.
Sylla returns...

CLAUDIUS.
Farewell.

[To Valeria.