University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

—A Street in Rome.
Enter Fannius.
Fan.
The gods provide for him! Fame talks of him,
As of a theme she could emblazon the more
The more she should dilate on't. Enemies
Contend with friends which shall outdo the other
In vaunting of him. Yea, the hands that hate him
Supply him but with richest kindnesses;
The bane, they'd work him, turning into good.
This questorship, for his undoing meant,
Has built him up a thousand times the man
He was before; that scarce a day can pass,
But something 's added, to swell up the amount
Of his o'erflowing fortunes.

Enter Flaminius.
Fla.
Health to Fannius!
Opimius is arrived.

Fan.
I am glad of it.

Fla.
Something to temper joy,—would you believe it?
Gracchus is now in Rome, or soon to be.
What think you?

Fan.
That, if he returns to Rome,
Rome's at his feet.

Fla.
Come to the senate. Something
Must be resolved upon to hurt his credit,
And slake the people's joy at seeing him.

Fan.
Effect but that, thou art a god to Rome!

[They go out.

SCENE II.

—Caius Gracchus' House.
Cornelia, Licinia, and Licinius discovered—Licinia seated at a table.
Cor.
Are not you pleased at this, Licinia!

Lici.
No;
Nor pleased, yet nor displeased, Cornelia.
What care I that the world allows him good
And wise? Did I not know him so before?
Had I a doubt of it?—Whom did I ask
To give their oath of it?—I was content
With mine own knowledge. Why should I be glad
That all applaud him?—For his sake?—Alas!
For any cause but that! Whom all applaud,
Let the tide change, though never change the man,
All are as sure to blame! I did not wed
Thy son as one would choose an idle gem,
To sparkle, for the praise of others' eyes,
But that he blazed in mine.

Cor.
Go on, Licinius.

Lic.
His very fame more profit brings to Rome,
Than the exploits themselves of other men.
His fair renown has charmed Micipsa so,
That he has sent large store of corn to the army;
And his ambassadors have made it known
To the senate, in full assembly, that their master
Perform'd this from his mere respect for Caius.

Cor.
Oh, glorious boy! surpass thy mother's hopes!
What said the senate?—Were they not struck with this?
Did they not own the virtue of my son,
And praise the name of Gracchus?

Lic.
They!—Alas!
Their proud blood bows to aught but virtue. No;
The ambassadors were spurn'd,—driven out with shame,—
Sent back with scorn, as mere barbarians, who,
By showing their just preference of your son,
Slighted the senate of its due respect.

Lici.
Unhappy Caius! thy conspicuous virtue
But marks thee out the victim of the senate!

Cor.
It marks him out the favourite of the gods!
Think'st thou I rear'd my son to follow virtue
Only for men's acclaim? It ill had fitted
The child of Scipio, and had never made me
The mother of the Gracchi! [Aside to Licinius.]
Say, Licinius,
Knows Caius this?

Lic.
[Aside to Cornelia.]
He does, from many hands.
His friends are strong. The senate cannot hide
His worth from Rome. The people think of Caius
As their sole hope; and should he stand for tribune,
He must obtain the office.

Cor.
What! and will
He stand for tribune? Wherefore do I ask?
Do I not know he will?

[Shouts without.
Lici.
What means that shout?

Lic.
Forgive me, sister, that I have conceal'd
The measures of his friends, who have advised him
To show himself at once in Rome. No doubt
'Tis Caius, and the people welcome him.

Lici.
'Tis Caius!—Hear I right?—'Tis he—My Caius!

Enter Caius Gracchus and Pomponius.
Caius.
My soul, we meet again!—My honour'd mother!

Cor.
The mother is honour'd in her son, my Caius.

Caius.
Licinius—friend and brother! I received
Your letters, and I thank you for your care.
Licinia, thank the gods! we meet again.
How is our boy, love?—How art thou thyself?
Let me look at thee. Well, as my heart could wish!
Great Jove! to gaze on such a precious thing,
And know it mine! You may smile, Marcus, but
There's such a thing as loving one's wife. Licinia,
Am I not with thee again? Let him who thinks
The world is worth his home, exchange home for it:
A little time; he'll find he has lost a world,
Not found one!

Enter Lucius.
Luc.
Caius, a messenger
From the senate.

Caius.
Admit him.
[Lucius goes out.
Mother, you'll give me leave. Licinia,
I've many things to tell thee. Count these gems, love;
They were a gift to me for thee, from hands
That only know thee from thy husband's tongue,
Which ne'er could speak the moiety of thy worth!
Go with my mother, Sweet! I have neglected
Some matters of high duty, just to snatch
This look at thee; and those must now be done.

Lici.
You'll not be long; be with us soon!

Caius.
No, Sweet!

Lici.
Remember, now!

[Cornelia and Licinia go out.
Enter a Lictor.
Lictor.
The senate, Caius, cites you to appear
Before the censors.

Caius.
Well!—Acquaint the senate
I shall obey.

Lictor goes out.
Pom.
'Twas rumour'd, ere you came,
Opimius had return'd; on which account
The senate had been suddenly convoked.

Caius.
I look'd for this! Let me think—Let me think!—Why, yes.
Nothing done rashly, nor yet timidly,
The mean 's discretion, back'd by calm resolve.
I cannot do it!—My blood 's a point too warm!
To hear a man deal out morality,
Axiom upon axiom—for an hour dilate
Upon the value of an aphorism,—
Amplify to o'errunning in the cause,
And then, at every allegation,
Invoke no less a witness than high Jove;
And know him all the while to play the knave.
Great Hercules! it sets my veins a-boiling!

Lic.
Caius, you would need a rein
More firmly ruled than this.

Caius.
I know it—I know it,
As well as you. Hang them! I'll try and play
The cautious man for once. 'Tis time to choose
New tribunes, is it not?

Pom.
It is.

Caius.
You see
I'm not at home an hour, and they let loose
The dogs upon me! Come!—to the Campus Martius!
Now will you see them hold their hands to the gods!
That saw my brother's blood upon those hands!
They thought I had forgot that brother's death!
Why, where's the Tiber?—Is it not at Rome?
What!—Has it sunk!—run out!—Flows it not still,
Its yellow hue turn'd purple, ever since!
Its waters, blood; which all the floods of heaven
Can't change again to water!—Blood! that cries
For vengeance at a living brother's hand!

Lic.
How do you mean to act? Your plans, my Caius?

Caius.
My plans! Come with me to the Campus Martius!

[They go out.

SCENE III.

—The Campus Martius—the Portico of the Temple of Mars, under which the chairs for the Censors are placed.
Enter Titus and Marcus.
Tit.

So, Caius is returned from the army?

Mar.

Ay; and there's not an honest man in Rome but's
glad of it.

Tit.

Why gather the people to the Campus Martius?

Mar.

Here come two senators' gentlemen. They will inform
you.

Enter Sextus and Quintus.
Tit.

Health to you, master!

Sex.

Health to you, master!

Tit.

Can you tell us why the people gather this way?

Sex.

For the old reason, friend: we are all good till we're
tried.

Tit.

Ay, indeed! What honest man has turned rogue to-day?

Sex.

Many a one, I doubt; but chiefly he whom our good
citizens believe the honestest in Rome.

Mar.

Mean you your master, friend?

Sex.

No; I mean the master of the people; the gentleman
who feels for their empty stomachs, and gives them words to
eat; your Caius Gracchus, who calls our tradesmen the nobility
of Rome; and so indeed they are, if rags can make them so.

Mar.

No bad evidence! You cannot wear the wool without
shearing the sheep. But, pray, what's the matter with Caius
Gracchus?

Sex.

Only that he has returned from the army without his
general's leave,—nothing more, except a whisper or two about
the tumult at Fregella. 'Tis said he had a hand in it.

Mar.

What's your opinion?

Sex.

Believe me, it does not favour him.

Tit.

What! you like the fare that the patricians give?

Sex.

What fare?

Tit.

A good dinner. Caius, you say, feeds the people upon
words. A very natural preference! There's not a dog or an
ass in Rome that would not be of your mind.

Sex.
[Raising his staff.]

Pray which of the two may you be,
friend?

Mar.

Why ask you?

Sex.

Oh! merely that, upon occasion, I may know whether
I ought to take my foot or my staff to you. No offence, I
hope. I have all the respect in the world for you, believe me.

Tit.
[To Marcus.]

You have the worst of it. Let me take
him in hand. [To Sextus.]
Hark you, master; a word with
you.

Sex.

Your pleasure, master?

Tit.

How comes your cloak to have that gloss upon it?

Sex.

Not by partaking of your grease, friend.

Tit.

My grease! Why, man, there's as much fat in a tanned
hide as in all my body! The patricians have sweated me to
very leanness, and left me nothing to recruit withal, but hunger
and nakedness.

Sex.

They are right. They find that their cattle grow restive
with abundance of provender.

Tit.

But they feed their curs, friend.

Sex.

Whom do you call a cur?

Tit.

Down with your staff, master, for I have another that
may ruffle the gloss of your cloak for you. What! has anything
surprised you? Do you wonder that the order which wins
your battles in the field, should refuse your blows in the city?
You despise us when you have no need of us; but if an ounce
of power or peculation is to be gained through our means,
oh! then you put on your sweet looks, and, bowing to the very
belts of our greasy jackets, you exclaim, “Fair gentlemen!—
kind fellow-citizens!—loving comrades!—sweet, worthy, gentle
Romans!—grant us your voices!” Or, if the enemy is to be
opposed, oh! then we are “men of mettle!”—(poor starved
devils!)—“the defenders of our country!”—(that is, your cattle
as you call us)—and so indeed we are. We bear your patricians
on our backs to victory; we carry them proudly through the
ranks of the barbarians! They come off safe—we get the
knocks, the pricks, and the scratches. They obtain crowns
and triumphs,—we cannot obtain—a dinner! They get their
actions recorded—we get ours forgotten! They receive new
names and titles—we return to our old ones with which you
honour us—“the rabble!—the herd!—the cattle!—the vermin!
—the scum of Rome!”

Sex.

Pray, friend, will you look at this staff of mine?

Tit.

I look at it, friend.

Sex.

Is it not a staff, friend?

Tit.

Yes, if a staff is a staff, friend.

Sex.

If I am weary, it enables me to rest myself; if I am
lame, it helps me to walk; if I quarrel, it knocks down my
adversary; and yet, is it not always a staff, friend?

Mar.
[To Titus.]

You have the worst of it now. Let me

attack him. Hark you, master. Does your staff ever knock
its owner on the pate?

Sex.

What do you mean?

Mar.
[Striking him.]

Why thus.

Sex.

Do you want to quarrel?

Mar.

Oh! by no means. I only wanted to show you the
difference between a staff and a man, friend.

Tit.

Turn on him again. I'll second you, and here is a troop
of friends at hand.

Qui.

Bear with him no longer. Hither comes a band of our
comrades. I'll beckon them to make haste. [Calling off.]

Come on, come on! These greasy citizens are uttering treason
against our masters, the noble patricians.

Enter Servants.
Mar.

Hem!—Shall we go over the argument again, master?
Is there anything else your staff can do?

Sex.

Yes; when I carry it heedlessly, it sometimes chances
to—trip me.

[Trips Marcus.
Tit.
Help, help, there!

[Enter Citizens.—Confused cry of “Down with the Citizens!” “Down with the Slaves and Servants!” They are about to attack each other, when Flaminius's voice without stops them.
Enter Flaminius, Tuditanus, Opimius, Senators, two Censors, and twelve Lictors.
Fla.
Hold! hold! I charge you, you rash citizens!
What means this tumult? How! is peace so old
That you are weary of it? Who began
This fray?

Sex.
That caitiff yonder.

Tit.
Our old names!

Mar.
'Twas that patrician's hireling that began it.

Caius Gracchus, and his Friends Pomponius and Licinius, appear behind.
Opi.
Silence! ye wrangling discontented men!
Ye pest of Rome! What stirs you to this brawl?
I know your cue!—Your Gracchus has return'd,
And ye give signal straight of discontent,
Conspiracy, and foul rebellion!
A noble leader for your noble party!
A glorious soldier, that returns to Rome
Without his general's leave! A worthy son
Of Rome, that tampers with her enemies,
And instigates her allies to revolt!
An honest patriot—

[Seeing Caius Gracchus close to him, he checks himself.
Caius.
Proceed, Opimius!
Now is your proper time to speak. I am here—
Gracchus is here! Gracchus, that draws not on
A foe behind his back!

[Opimius is confused—he walks sullenly to the place appointed for him as the accuser of Caius Gracchus —Gracchus fixes his eyes steadfastly upon Opimius, who betrays considerable embarrassment.
Opi.
[Recovering.]
This lofty bearing
Befits the man who quits his post, without
His general's leave; and used the sacred power
His office gave him, to pervert the faith
His duty 'twas to guard; as, amply, can
Fregella testify!

Caius.
Is this your charge?
Censors! I'll save your labour. It appears
I am cited here, because I have return'd
Without my general's leave, and for the crime
Of having raised the tumult at Fregella.
First, with the first. I have remain'd my time;
Nay, I have overserved it by the laws—
The laws which Caius Gracchus dares not break.
But, censors, let that pass. I shall propose
A better question for your satisfaction:
“How have I served my time?” I'll answer that.
“How have I served my time?”—“For mine own gain,
Or that of the republic?” What was my office?
Questor. What was its nature? Lucrative;
So lucrative, that all my predecessors,
Who went forth poor, return'd home rich—so rich
Their very wine-vessels resign'd their store
Of fluid wealth, only for wealthier freight
Of solid gold. I went forth, poor enough;
But have return'd still poorer than I went.
Then, for my conduct as a soldier,
I do not blush to say, I have prevail'd
By mercy more than rapine. I have won
From enemies their hearts, before their arms;
And held the tributary states to Rome,
By friendship more than fear. I have answer'd that.

First Censor.
If you have served your time, and faithfully
Discharged your duty, as a Roman questor,
So far you are acquitted.

Opi.
To the next, then—
The tumult at Fregella.

Caius.
Ay, to that!
Produce your proofs!

Opi.
I charge you, as your general.

Caius.
Your proofs—your evidence—your witnesses.

Opi.
Is it from thee I hear this haughty challenge?
Who best should know thy actions? Wast thou not
Mine officer? I charge thee with the treason.
Before the gods, I charge thee with it, Caius;
I say, I charge thee as thy general.

Caius.
Thou daring noble! Is it to the face
Of these upright authorities, thou claim'st
To be at once the witness and accuser?
Say, censors, is it fit? Is it the law?

First Censor.
The law permits it not. The accusation
And proof, in such a case, cannot reside
In the same person. Caius Gracchus, therefore,
Is free, unless you furnish other warrant
For his impeachment.

[The Censors rise.
Opi.
Censors, it is fit
You look to the public safety. If our criminals
Escape their penalties, your prisons and
Your chains will soon be our inheritance.

Caius.
Have the laws lost their reverence?

Fla.
The charge
Is heavy!

Caius.
Heavy as the proofs are light.
Ye citizens of Rome, behold what favour
Your masters show your brethren! I have borne
My country's arms with honour; overserved
My time; return'd in poverty, that might
Have amass'd treasures; and they thus reward me—
Prefer a charge against me without proof,
Direct or indirect—without a testimony,
Weighty or light—without an argument,
Idle or plausible—without as much
Of feasibility, as would suffice
To feed suspicion's phantom! Why is this?
How have I bought this hatred? When my brother,
Tiberius Gracchus, fell beneath their blows,
I call'd them not assassins! When his friends
Fell sacrifices to their after-vengeance,
I did not style them butchers! When their hatred
Drove the Numidian nobles from the senate,
With scoffs and execrations, when they praised me,
And to my cause assign'd the royal bounty
Of King Micipsa, still I did not call them
The proud, invidious, insolent patricians!

[The people cheer vehemently.
Opi.
Hear ye!

Caius.
Ye men of Rome, there is no favour
For justice!—Grudgingly her dues are granted!
Your great men boast no more the love of country!
They count their talents—measure their domains—
Number their slaves—make lists of knights and clients—
Enlarge their palaces—dress forth their banquets,
Awake their lyres and timbrels, and with their floods
Of ripe Falernian, drown the little left
Of Roman virtue!

Opi.
He would raise a tumult!

Caius.
This hand 's the first to turn against the man,
Whoe'er he be, that favours civil discord!
I have no gust for blood, Opimius!
I sacrifice to justice and to mercy!

Opi.
He has aspersed the justice of our order;
He flatters the plebeians, and should be
Attach'd and brought to question for this conduct.

Caius.
Romans, I ask the office of your tribune!

[Tumultuous cheers.
Mar.
Ay! you shall have it! Gracchus shall be tribune!

Tit.
Gracchus tribune! Caius Gracchus tribune!

Opi.
Stay, friends! Take heed! Beware of flatterers!

Caius.
The laws! the laws! that guard the common right!
The wealth, the happiness, the freedom of
The nation! Who has hidden them—defaced them—
Sold them—corrupted them from the pure letter?
Why do they guard the rich man's cloak from a rent,
And tear the poor man's garment from his back?
Why are they, in the proud man's grasp, a sword,
And in the hand of the humble man, a reed?
The laws! the laws! I ask you for the laws!
Demand them in my country's sacred name!
Still silent? Reckless still of my appeal?
Romans! I ask the office of your tribune!

[Caius Gracchus and his party go out, followed by Citizens, shouting.
Opi.
Stop him from rising, or our order falls!

[Opimius, and the rest, go out.

SCENE IV.

—A Street—a Gate of the City.
Enter Titus and Marcus, with Citizens.
Tit.
The work goes nobly on! Caius is sure to be tribune.
This is a happy day for Rome!

Mar.

Ay, the people will have their rights. We shall know
ourselves now, masters. See, hither comes a crowd of voters;
let us speak to them.

Enter Voters.
Health to you, masters! Are you going to vote?

First Voter.

Yes; if we can find an honest candidate.

Mar.

Here's one ready to your hands, masters; Caius
Gracchus. Choose him, and you'll do good service to your
country. He'll see that you shall have your rights, nor will
the patricians dare to curl their noses when they pass us,
as if we were so much carrion. Look you, masters, Caius
is a friend of the plebeians; he respects our order, and so he
ought; and, therefore, let every good citizen support him.
Away, my friends! Vote, and cry, Caius!

Voters.

Caius Gracchus! Huzza!

[They go out.
Mar.

He's sure of the election. The patricians will eat
poor suppers to-night.

Enter Voters.

Save you, masters; are you going to vote for the right candidate?

First Voter.

Do you think we'd vote for the wrong one?

Tit.

Then you'll vote for Caius Gracchus?

First Voter.

No; I don't like him. They say he'll bring
the state into danger. We are men that love peace and
concord.

Tit.

Ay, and good feeding. Hark you, master; take these
cattle to the stalls of the patricians. The patricians make
profitable masters. They give stripes only now and then;
but that's nothing, you know, to a kindly beast. Away, I
say!—to the stalls with them!

[They go out severally.
Enter Licinia and Cornelia.
Cor.
Caius, you see, is nowhere to be found.
Let us go home again.

Lici.
Not till I see him.
Livia was right; he'll surely stand for tribune.
Let's seek him in the Forum.

Cor.
Are you mad?
Go to the Forum after him! All Rome
Would talk of it. When did you know a wife
Follow her husband to the Forum? Why,
'Twould set all fingers pointing! Men would say,
“Caius did well to take a wife to school him;”
And every woman would cry “shame” upon him.
I'd rather lose a husband, than have people
So talk of mine.

Lici.
You wish him to be tribune?

Cor.
Licinia, no; I wish it not, my daughter;
But still I know, that if he will be tribune,
He will; and, knowing that, the unwelcome thought
That needs must be my guest I treat with grace,
For mine own dignity, and his contentment,
Which should not, profitless, be marr'd.
[Shouts without.
My child,
Why do you grasp me by the arm, and tremble?
The people shout for joy.

Lici.
It is a kind
Of joy that's fearful to my mind. The breeze
That kindly bears the gladsome bark along,
Has oft been known to grow the hurricane
That sends her to the bottom!

Cor.
Take her, Livia.
Go, both of you, look down the other street,
While I watch here. 'Chance you may light on Caius.
[Licinia and Livia go out.
'Tis Marcus, and with news! She's best away!

Mar.
[Entering.]
Cornelia!—

Cor.
Quick!—Your news! What has he done?

Mar.
Proposed himself for tribune!

Cor.
Full well I knew that it would come to this!
And I could tell what further it will come to,
If I would. No matter. Two such sons as mine
Were never made for mothers that have eyes
Afraid of tears. Why did I rear my boys
Companions for the gods, if not for this?
Many a time, when they stood before me,
Such things as mothers seldom look upon,
And I have seem'd to feed on them with mine eyes;
My thoughts have ponder'd o'er the bier, where they
Lay stiff and cold! I would not see them so
If I could help it; but I would not help it
To see them otherwise, and other men.
My Caius must be tribune!

[Shouts several times, approaching nearer.
Lic.
[Entering.]
Caius is tribune!
Those shouts proclaim it. [Looking off.]
See, Cornelia,
He comes! Behold!—Look how they hem him round!
Why do you turn away?

Cor.
I turn away
To see that flush of triumph on his cheek
Which lights it as he felt himself a god;
And think how I may, after, see that cheek,
And think upon that flush! Licinia 's well
Away; it had o'ercome her quite. Come, Licinius.

[Cornelia and Licinius retire.
Enter Caius Gracchus, Drusus, Pomponius, Titus, Marcus, and Citizens, shouting.
Caius.
No more, my friends!—no more of this, I pray you!
Disperse to your several homes. Why do you give
These honours to your servant?

Tit.
Suffer us
To see you to your house.

Mar.
Yes, Caius, yes,
We'll hail your honour'd mother and your wife.

Pom.
Indulge the people, Gracchus.

Caius.
Well, my friends,
If you will go with me— [Seeing Cornelia.]
My honour'd mother!

Cor.
May the great gods, who crown'd thee with this triumph,
Instruct thee so to use it as to bless
Thy country! With a firm and mighty hand,
Mayst thou uphold the laws, and keep them ever
Above the proud man's violence, and within
The poor man's reach; so shall thy mother—Rome—
Acknowledge thee her son, and teach thy name
To the applauding tongues of after-ages!
Who is your brother tribune?

Caius.
Worthy Drusus.

Cor.
[To Drusus.]
My son is happy in his colleague, sir,
And let me trust, will not dishonour him.

Dru.
My honour is to second him, Cornelia.

Caius.
Come, mother.

[Going.
Re-enter Licinia and Livia, meeting them.
Lic.
Ha! Licinia!

Cor.
[Going up to her.]
My Licinia!
For Caius' honour act like Caius' wife:
He's tribune.

Lici.
Tribune!

Cor.
Think what eyes are on you!
You are the mother of a Roman, too!
Summon your spirits! That's my daughter! Come
Up to him now at once, and wish him joy,—
'Tis but an effort, and the words are out!

Lici.
[Crossing to Caius.]
Caius,—

Caius.
Licinia!

Lici.
Caius! I do give you joy!

[She faints on his arm, and the curtain drops.