 | Virginius |  |
ACT I.
SCENE I.
—A Street in Rome.Enter Servius and Cneius.
Ser.
Carbo denied a hearing!
Cne.
Ay, and Marcellus cast into prison, because he sued
a friend of one of the decemvirs for a sum of money he had
lent him.
Ser.
And Appius resisted not? Appius, that in the first
decemvirate was a god to the people!
Cne.
Resisted not! Nay, was most loud in favour of the
decree; but hither comes Virginius, who interested himself so
much in Carbo's affair. He looks a little heated. Is not that
Titus he is speaking to? Stand aside, master, and listen.
Enter Virginius and Titus.
Virginius.
Why did you make him decemvir, and first
decemvir too?
Tit.
We had tried him, and found him honest.
Virginius.
And could you not have remained content? Why
try him again to find him dishonest? Knew ye not he was a
patrician, and of the Claudian family?
Tit.
He laid down the consulate—
Virginius.
Ha! ha! ha!—to be elected into the decemvirate,
and he was so; and he laid down his office of decemvir
to be re-elected into the decemvirate, and he is so; ay, by
Jupiter! and to the exclusion of his late colleagues! Did not
Titus Genutius lay down the consulate?
Tit.
He did.
Virginius.
Was he not next to Appius in the decemvirate?
Tit.
He was.
Virginius.
Did you not find him honest?
Tit.
We did find him honest.
Virginius.
As honest as Appius Claudius?
Tit.
Quite as honest.
Virginius.
Quite as honest!—and why not re-elect him
decemvir? Most sapient people! You re-elect Appius into
the decemvirate for his honesty, and you thrust Titus out of
the decemvirate—I suppose for his honesty also! Why,
Appius was sick of the decemvirate.
Ser.
I never heard him say so.
But he did say so—say so in my hearing; in
presence of the senators Valerius and Caius Claudius, and I
don't know how many others. 'Twas known to the whole
body of the senate—not that he was sick, but that he said so.
Yes, yes; he and his colleagues, he said, had done the work of
the republic for a whole year, and it was now but just to grant
them a little repose, and appoint others to succeed them.
Tit.
Well, well, we can only say he changed his mind.
Virginius.
No, no, we needn't say that neither! As he had
laboured in the decemvirate, perhaps he thought he might as
well repose in the decemvirate.
Tit.
I know not what he thought. He is decemvir, and we
made him so, and cannot help ourselves. Fare you well, Virginius.
Come, let's to the Forum.
[Titus, Servius, and Cneius go out.
Virginius.
You cannot help yourselves! Indeed you cannot:
You help'd to put your masters on your backs:
They like their seat, and make you show your paces.
They ride you—sweat you—curb you—lash you—and
You cannot throw them off with all your mettle!
But here comes one, whose share in giving you
To such unsparing riders, touches me
More nearly, for that I've an interest
In proving him a man of fair and most
Erect integrity. Good day, Icilius.
Enter Icilius.
Icil.
Worthy Virginius! 'tis an evil day
For Rome, that gives her more convincing proof,
The thing, she took for hope, is but a base
And wretched counterfeit! Our new decemvirs
Are anything but friends to justice and
Their country.
Virginius.
You, Icilius, had a hand
In their election. You applied to me
To aid you with my vote in the comitia:
I told you then, and tell you, now, again,
I am not pleased when a patrician bends
His head to a plebeian's girdle. Mark me!
I'd rather he should stand aloof, and wear
His shoulder high—especially the nephew
Of Caius Claudius.
Icil.
I would have pledged my life—
Virginius.
'Twas a high gage, and men have staked a higher
On grounds as poor as yours—their honour, boy!
Icilius, I have heard it all—your plans—
The understanding 'twixt the heads of the people—
Of whom, Icilius, you are reckon'd one, and
Worthily—and Appius Claudius—all!—
'Twas every jot disclosed to me.
Icil.
By whom?
Virginius.
Siccius Dentatus.
He disclosed it to you?
Siccius Dentatus is a crabbéd man.
Virginius.
Siccius Dentatus is an honest man!
There's not a worthier in Rome! How now!
Has he deceived me? Do you call him liar?
My friend! my comrade! honest Siccius,
That fought in six-score battles!
Icil.
Good Virginius,
Siccius Dentatus is my friend—the friend
Of every honest man in Rome—a brave man—
A most brave man. Except yourself, Virginius,
I do not know the man I prize above
Siccius Dentatus—yet he's a crabbéd man.
Virginius.
Yes, yes; he is a crabbéd man.
Icil.
A man
Who loves too much to wear a jealous eye
Virginius.
No, not a whit, where he sees double dealing.
You are the best judge of your own concerns;
Yet, if it please you to communicate
With me upon this subject, come and see me.
I told you, boy, I favour'd not this stealing
And winding into place. What he deserves,
An honest man dares challenge 'gainst the world—
But come and see me. Appius Claudius, chosen
Decemvir, and his former colleagues, that
Were quite as honest as himself, not chosen—
No, not so much as named by him, who named
Himself, and his new associates! Well, 'tis true,
Dog fights with dog, but honesty is not
A cur, that baits his fellow—and e'en dogs,
By habit of companionship, abide
In terms of faith and cordiality—
But come and see me.
Icil.
Appius comes!
The people still throng after him with shouts,
Unwilling to believe their Jupiter
Has mark'd them for his thunder. Will you stay,
And see the homage that they render him?
Virginius.
Not I! Stay you; and, as you made him, hail him;
And shout, and wave your hand, and cry, “Long live
Our first and last decemvir, Appius Claudius!”
For he is first and last, and every one!
Rome owes you much, Icilius—Fare you well—
I shall be glad to see you at my house.
[Virginius goes out.
Enter Appius Claudius, Siccius Dentatus, Lucius, Titus, Servius, Marcus, and Citizens, shouting.
Tit.
Long live our first decemvir!
Long live Appius Claudius!
Most noble Appius! Appius and the decemvirate for ever!
[Citizens shout.
My countrymen and fellow-citizens,
We shall deserve your favour.
Tit.
You have deserved it,
And will deserve it.
App.
For that end we named
Ourself decemvir.
Tit.
You could not have named a better man.
Den.
For his own purpose (Aside).
App.
Be assured, we hold
Our power but for your good. Your gift it was:
And gifts make surest debtors. Fare you well—
And, for your salutations, pardon me
If I repay you only with an echo—
Long live the worthy citizens of Rome!
[Appius and friends go out.
Den.
That was a very pretty echo!—a most soft echo. I
never thought your voices were half so sweet! A most melodious
echo! I'd have you ever after make your music before
the patricians' palaces. They give most exquisite responses!
—especially that of Appius Claudius! A most delicate echo!
Tit.
What means Dentatus?
Ser.
He's ever carping—nothing pleases him.
Den.
Oh! yes—you please me—please me mightily, I assure
you.—You are noble legislators, take most especial care of
your own interests, bestow your votes most wisely too—on
him who has the wit to get you into the humour; and, withal,
have most musical voices—most musical—if one may judge by
their echo.
Tit.
Why, what quarrel have you with our choice? Could
we have chosen better?—I say they are ten honest decemvirs
we have chosen.
Den.
I pray you name them me.
Tit.
There's Appius Claudius, first decemvir—
Den.
Ay, call him the head. You are right. Appius Claudius,
the head. Go on!
Tit.
And Quintus Fabius Vibulanus—
Den.
The body, that eats and drinks while the head thinks.
Call him Appius's stomach. Fill him, and keep him from cold
and indigestion, and he'll never give Appius the headache!
Well?—There's excellent comfort in having a good stomach!
—Well?
Tit.
There's Cornelius, Marcus Servilius, Minucius, and
Titus Antonius—
Den.
Arms, legs, and thighs!
Tit.
And Marcus Rabuleius—
Den.
He'll do for a hand, and, as he's a senator, we'll call
him the right-hand. We couldn't do less, you know, for a
senator! Well?
Luc.
At least, you'll say we did well in electing Quintius
Petilius, Caius Duellius, and Spurius Oppius—men of our
order!—sound men!—known sticklers for the people.—At
least you'll say we did well in that!
And who dares say otherwise? “Well!” one might
as well say “ill” as “well.” “Well” is the very skirt of
commendation; next neighbour to that mire and gutter, “ill.”
“Well” indeed! you acted like yourselves. Nay, e'en yourselves
could not have acted better. Why, had you not elected
them, Appius would have gone without his left hand, and each
of his two feet!
Ser.
Out! you are dishonest!
Den.
Ha!
Ser.
What would content you?
Den.
A post in a hot battle. Out, you cur! Do you talk
to me?
Citizen
(from behind).
Down with him, he does nothing but
insult the people.
[The crowd approach Dentatus, threateningly.
Icil.
[Entering.]
Stand back! Who is't that says down
with Siccius Dentatus? Down with him! 'Tis what the
enemy could never do; and shall we do it for them? Who
uttered that dishonest word? Who uttered it, I say? Let
him answer a fitter, though less worthy, mate—Lucius Icilius.
Citizen.
Stand back, and hear Icilius.
Icil.
What! haven't I voted for the decemvirs, and do I snarl
at his jests? Has he not a right to jest? the good, honest
Siccius Dentatus, that, alone, at the head of the veterans,
vanquished the Æqui for you. Has he not a right to jest?
For shame!—Get to your houses! The worthy Dentatus!
Cheer for him, if you are Romans! Cheer for him before
you go! Cheer for him, I say!
[Citizens go out, shouting.
Den.
And now, what thanks do you expect from me, Icilius?
Icil.
None.
Den.
By Jupiter, young man, had you thus stepped before
me in the heat of battle, I should have cloven you down—but
I'm obliged to you, Icilius—and hark you! There's a piece
of furniture in the house of a friend of mine, that's called
Virginius, I think you've set your heart upon—dainty enough;
yet not amiss for a young man to covet. Ne'er lose your
hopes! He may be brought into the mind to part with it.
As to these curs, I question which I value less, their fawnings
or their snarlings. I thank you, boy! Do you walk this
way? I am glad of it. Come! 'Tis a noble decemvirate you
have chosen for us! Come!
[They go out.
SCENE II.
—Virginius's House.Enter Virginius and Servia.
Virginius.
And is this all you have observed? I think
There's nothing strange in that. An L and an I
Twined with a V. Three very innocent letters
To have bred such mischief in thy brain, good Servia.
Come, read this riddle to me.
You may laugh,
Virginius; but I'll read the riddle right.
The L doth stand for Lucius; and the I,
Icilius; which, I take it, will compose,
“Lucius Icilius.”
Virginius.
So it will, good Servia.
Servia.
Then, for the V; why, that is plain, “Virginia.”
Virginius.
And now, what conjuration find you here?
Servia.
What should I find, but love? The maid's in love;
In love, and it is with Icilius. Look, the wreath
Is made of roses, that entwines the letters.
Virginius.
And this is all?
Servia.
And is it not enough?
You'll find this figuring where'er you look:
There's not a piece of dainty work she does—
Embroidery, or painting—not a task
She finishes, but on the skirt, or border,
In needle-work, or pencil, this, her secret,
The silly wench betrays.
Virginius.
Go, send her to me—
Stay! Have you spoken to her of it?
Servia.
I!
Not I, indeed; I left that task to you—
Though once I ask'd her what the letters meant.
She laugh'd, and drew a scratch across them; but
Had scarce done so, ere her fair visage fell,
For grief that she had spoil'd the ciphers—and
A sigh came out, and then almost a tear;
And then she look'd as piteous on the harm
That she had done, as she had done it to
A thing had sense to feel it. Never after
She let me note her at her work again.
She had good reason!
Virginius.
Send her to me, Servia.
[Servia goes out.
There's something here, that promises to bring me
Anticipation of my wish. I think
Icilius loves my daughter—nay, I know it;
And such a man would challenge for her husband;—
And only waited, till her forward spring
Put on, a little more, the genial likeness
Of colouring into summer, ere I sought
To nurse a flower, which, blossoming too early,
Too early often dies; but if it springs
Spontaneous, and, unlook'd for, woos our hand
To tend and cherish it, the growth is healthful;
And 'twere untimely, as unkind, to check it.
I'll ascertain it shortly—soft, she comes.
Enter Virginia.
Virginia.
Well, father, what's your will?
Virginius.
I wish'd to see you,
To ask you of your tasks—how they go on—
You did. I hope you never play
The truant?
Virginia.
The truant! No, indeed, Virginius.
Virginius.
I am sure you do not—kiss me!
Virginia.
O my father!
I am so happy when you're kind to me!
Virginius.
You are so happy when I'm kind to you!
Am I not always kind? I never spoke
An angry word to you in all my life,
Virginia! You are happy when I'm kind!
That's strange; and makes me think you have some reason
To fear I may be otherwise than kind—
Is't so, my girl?
Virginia.
Indeed, I did not know
What I was saying to you!
Virginius.
Why, that's worse
And worse! What! when you said your father's kindness
Made you so happy, am I to believe
You were not thinking of him?
Virginia.
I—
[Greatly confused.
Virginius.
Go fetch me
The latest task you did.
[Virginia goes out.
It is enough
Her artless speech, like crystal, shows the thing
'Twould hide, but only covers. 'Tis enough!
She loves, and fears her father may condemn!
Virginia.
[Re-entering with a painting.]
Here, Sir.
Virginius.
What's this?
Virginia.
'Tis Homer's story, father,
Of brave Achilles parting from Briseis.
Virginius.
You have done it well. The colouring is good,
The figures well design'd. 'Tis very well!—
Whose face is this you've given to Achilles?
Virginia.
Whose face?
Virginius.
I've seen this face! Tut! tut! I know it
As well as I do my own, yet can't bethink me
Whose face it is!
Virginia.
You mean Achilles' face?
Virginius.
Did I not say so! 'Tis the very face
Of—No! no! Not of him. There's too much youth
And comeliness, and too much fire, to suit
The face of Siccius Dentatus.
Virginia.
Oh!
You surely never took it for his face!
Virginius.
Why, no; for now I look again, I'd swear
You lost the copy, ere you drew the head;
And, to requite Achilles for the want
Of his own face, contrived to borrow one
From Lucius Icilius. [Enter Dentatus.]
My Dentatus,
I am glad to see you!
Den.
'Tis not for my news, then.
Your news! What news?
Den.
More violence and wrong from these new masters of
ours—our noble decemvirs—these demi-gods of the good
people of Rome! No man's property is safe from them.
Nay, it appears we hold our wives and daughters but by the
tenure of their will. Their liking is the law. The senators
themselves, scared at their audacious rule, withdraw themselves
to their villas, and leave us to our fate. There are
rumours, also, of new incursions by the Sabines.
Virginius.
Rome never saw such days!
Den.
And she'll see worse, unless I fail in my reckoning.
Is that Virginia? I saw her not before. How does the fair
Virginia? Why, she is quite a woman. I was just now
wishing for a daughter.
Virginius.
A plague, you mean.
Den.
I am sure you should not say so.
Virginia.
Indeed he should not; and he does not say so,
Dentatus—not that I am not a plague,
But that he does not think me one, for all
I do to weary him. I am sure, Dentatus,
If to be thought to do well is to do well,
There's nothing I do ill; but it is far
From that! for few things do I as I ought—
Yet everything is well done with my father,
Dentatus.
Virginius.
That's well done, is it not, my friend?
[Aside.
But if you had a daughter, what would you do with her?
Den.
I'd give her to Icilius. I should have been just now
torn to pieces, but for his good offices. The gentle citizens—
that are driven about by the decemvirs' lictors, like a herd of
tame oxen, and, with most beast-like docility, only low applauses
to them in return—would have done me the kindness
to knock my brains out; but the noble Icilius bearded them
singly, and railed them into temper. Had I a daughter
worthy of such a husband, he should have such a wife, and a
patrician's dower along with her.
Virginius.
I wish to speak with you, Dentatus. Icilius is a
young man, whom I honour; but so far only as his conduct
gives me warrant. He has had, as thou knowest, a principal
hand in helping us to our decemvirs. It may be that he is
what I would gladly think him; but I must see him clearly,
clearly, Dentatus. If he has acted with the remotest understanding,
touching the views of these new tyrants, that we are
cursed withal, I disclaim him as my friend! I cast him off for
ever!
[Virginius and Dentatus go out.
Virginia.
How is it with my heart? I feel as one
That has lost everything, and just before
Had nothing left to wish for! He will cast
Icilius off!—I never told it yet;
But take of me, thou gentle air, the secret—
And ever after breathe more balmy sweet—
I love Icilius! Yes, although to thee
To scan my looks, nor voice to echo me,
Nor e'en an o'er-apt ear to catch my words;
Yet, sweet invisible confidant, my secret
Once being thine—I tell thee, and I'll tell thee
Again—and yet again. I love Icilius!
He'll cast Icilius off!—not if Icilius
Approve his honour. That he's sure to do;
He speaks, and looks, and moves a thing of honour,
Or honour never yet spoke, look'd, or moved,
Or was a thing of earth! O come, Icilius!
Do but appear, and thou art vindicated.
Icilius, entering.
Virginia! sweet Virginia! Sure I heard
My name pronounced. Was it by thee, Virginia?
Thou dost not answer! Then it was by thee—
O! wouldst thou tell me why thou namedst Icilius!
Virginia.
My father is incensed with thee. Dentatus
Has, told him of the new decemvirate,
How they abuse their office. You, he knows,
Have favour'd their election, and he fears
May have some understanding of their plans.
Icil.
He wrongs me then!
Virginia.
I thank the gods!
Icil.
For me!
Virginia? Do you thank the gods for me?
Your eye is moist—yet that may be for pity.
Your hand doth tremble—that may be for fear;
Your cheek is cover'd o'er with blushes! What,
O what can that be for?
Virginia.
Icilius, leave me!
Icil.
Leave thee, Virginia! O, a word—a word
Trembles upon my tongue, which, if it match
The thought that moves thee, now, and thou wilt let me
Pronounce that word, to speak that thought for thee,
I'll breathe, though I expire in the ecstasy
Of uttering it.
Virginia.
Icilius, will you leave me?
Icil.
Love! Love! Virginia! Love!—If I have spoken
Thy thought aright, ne'er be it said again,
The heart requires more service than the tongue
Can, at its best, perform. My tongue hath served
Two hearts—but lest it should o'erboast itself,
Two hearts with but one thought! Virginia!
Virginia, speak!
[Virginia covers her face with her hands.
O, I have loved thee long;
So much the more ecstatic my delight,
To find thee mine at length.
Virginia.
My secret's yours.
Keep it and honour it, Icilius.
Virginius.
Icilius here!
Virginia.
I ask thee now to leave me!
Icil.
Leave thee! who leaves a treasure he has coveted
So long, and found so newly, ere he scans it
Again, and yet again; and asks and answers,
Repeats and answers, answers and repeats,
The half-mistrustful half-assured question—
And is it mine, indeed?
Virginia.
Indeed! indeed!
Now leave me!
Icil.
I must see thy father first,
And lay my soul before him.
Virginia.
Not to-night!
Icil.
Now worse than ever, dear Virginia!
Can I endure his doubts; I'll lay my soul
Naked before him—win his friendship quite,
Or lose myself for ever.
[Going, is met by Virginius.
Virginius.
Stop, Icilius!
Thou seest that hand? It is a Roman's, boy;
'Tis sworn to liberty—It is the friend
Of honour. Dost thou think so?
Icil.
Do I think Virginius owns that hand!
Virginius.
Then you'll believe
It has an oath deadly to tyranny,
And is the foe of falsehood! By the gods,
Knew it the lurking-place of treason, though
It were a brother's heart, 'twould drag the caitiff
Forth. Darest thou take that hand?
Icil.
I dare, Virginius.
Virginius.
Then take it! Is it weak in thy embrace?
Returns it not thy gripe? Thou wilt not hold
Faster by it than it will hold by thee!
I overheard thee say, thou wast resolved
To win my friendship quite—Thou canst not win
What's thine already! You will stay, my boy,
And sup with us to-night?
Den.
To be sure he will!
Virginius.
And, hark you, Sir,
At your convenient time, appoint a day
Your friends and kinsmen may confer with me—
There is a bargain I would strike with you.
Come, to the supper-room. Do you wait for me
To lead Virginia in, or will you do it?
Come on, I say; come on. Your hand, Dentatus.
[They go out.
| Virginius | |