University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Appius, Marcus.
Ap.
Virginius in Rome?

Mar.
'Tis but too true.

Ap.
Hast thou beheld him?

Mar.
With these eyes I saw him.
Thou also wilt behold him here ere long,
For he is seeking thee.

Ap.
How from the camp
Could he depart, if an express command
Of mine detain'd him there?

Mar.
Thy interdict
Perchance arrived too late; the generals
Perchance were loath t'enforce it ...

Ap.
The commands
Of Appius, who e'er was loath t'obey?
I rather guess Icilius forestall'd me ...
Thence shall he reap the recompence he merits.
Already, ere Virginia had been dragged
To the tribunal, had a messenger
Been to her sire dispatch'd. At his approach
The aspect of our enterprize is changed:
Yet not for this ...

Mar.
Already, bathed in tears,
The parents, with their daughter, through the streets,
Through every pathway, suppliantly run,
Muffled in squalid garb, and in their course
They leave behind a formidable track
Of tears and indignation: here, perchance
Ere long, thou wilt behold them. But in guise
Far different to theirs, by multitudes,
Encreasing instantaneously, begirt,
The fierce Icilius, throughout the city,
Clad in habiliments of battle, speeds.
He menaces, adjures, exhorts, attests.—
The mother's tears, the virgin's loveliness,
The hoary valour of the warlike father,
The factious outcries of their former tribune,
A formidable aliment provide
To a more formidable flame:—take heed.

Ap.
Do thou take heed, and tremble for thyself;
And if thou wilt, for me: since for myself
I shall not tremble.—Go, I see Virginius
Coming towards me; leave me with him alone.

SCENE THE SECOND.

Appius, Virginius.
Ap.
And darest thou thy colours and the camp
Abandon thus? The Roman soldiers then
Do now at will, come, go, or quit their posts?

Virginius.
There is a reason that might supersede
The strictest laws. Yet in this exigence
Those austere laws of military duty,
Which I too long have kept, have not been broken.
I ask'd for leave of absence, and obtain'd it.—
I quit my station in my daughter's cause,
And this thou know'st.

Ap.
What can'st thou say for her,
Except that which the laws suggest to me
In language more imperative than thine.

Virginius.
Hear me. I am a father to my cost!
And as a father tremble. Unelated
Do I behold the people crowd around me,
And in my favour menacingly shout.
I know thy power is great; that to attempt
By force to cope with it were hazardous;
And that I may precipitate this Rome
In bitterest calamities, and fail
To rescue from thy grasp my hapless daughter.
Then, Appius, menace not: I know how far
Thou hast the power to injure me; but think,
Ah think a little, to what risk immense
Thou dost expose thyself, if thou persist.

Ap.
Are these or prayers or menaces? Am I
The sole and absolute disposer here
Of what the laws decree? Have I the power
To tear a daughter from her real father?
Rather should I, and such is my design,
Secure her to that father with my blood.
What avail prayers, if she be not thy child?
The rancour, which thy words but ill conceal,
I know from whence it comes. Icilius,
Thy heart hath clouded with his dark suspicions;
He who makes calumny the instrument
Of his ambitious views. To such a miscreant
Canst thou yield credence? and canst thou, who art
The most exemplary of citizens,
Chuse for thy son-in-law the worst of rebels?
Together with him wilt thou lose thy daughter?
The ruin of Icilius is decreed;
And as he hopes to have, he will not gain
An honourable death. Clandestinely
He against Rome conspires, and cherishes
Abominable schemes. He calls us tyrants;
But in his breast he nourishes the thought
Of a far fiercer tyranny than ours.
He would destroy the senate: afterwards
Enslave the people; yet he talks of freedom.
More deadly in proportion is his poison,
As 'tis conceal'd beneath a specious semblance.
Here doth he raise the signal of a rebel,
And there he breathes the whispers of a traitor.
I to his violence, violence will oppose,
And thwart his treasons by preventive arts.
All is foreseen already. Thou know'st not
His dark contrivances; to his designs
Now, as an instrument, he goads thee on,
Now, as a veil, to cloak his purposes;
Beneath thy character he screens himself,
But never will he share with thee his plunder.
That thou dost love, e'en as thou lov'st thy daughter,
Thy country, he well knows; hence he affects
To be the avenger of thy daughter's cause;
But with his comrades afterwards he laughs
At thy credulity. From thee he hides it;
To them he scruples not to shew himself
In his true shape, th'oppressor of his country.

Virginius.
Daughters are torn from their afflicted mothers;
From fathers torn, who in their country's service
The prime of life have spent; the magistrates
Appal us more than e'en our enemies;
Then how can Rome another tyrant dread?

Ap.
Icilius, I know it, with a tale
Of idle love dares to asperse my name.
What are his proofs? His boundless insolence,
The cries of the besotted multitude,
And my unwary clemency, are proofs.
This Marcus is my client; he demands
Thy daughter, I must then that daughter love,
And be her ravisher. Choice arguments!

Virginius.
This doth Icilius alone affirm?
Others attest the same.

Ap.
Perhaps thy daughter,
Suborn'd by him ...

Virginius.
There are too many proofs,
Whose utterance shame, not less than rage, forbids;
Nor is it a light proof that thou dost strive
To clear thyself to me.

Ap.
Thou art resolv'd
With the conspirators t'unite thyself?

Virginius.
I am resolv'd to die, or keep my daughter.

Ap.
I love thee, and I therefore wish thee safe.

Virginius.
And wherefore lovest me?

Ap.
Rome may require
Thy arm in her defence: ah leave, I pray thee,
Icilius to his fate; leave him to perish:
He alone merits it. We prize thy life.

Virginius.
I understand thee; thou dost deem me fit
For servitude ...

Ap.
No: Equal I esteem thee,
If not superior, to any Roman;
And, as a proof of this, scarce shall thy feet
Have reach'd the camp, ere thou shall be promoted
To the supreme command.

Virginius.
And dost thou dare
To bribe me to compliance? Shall I owe
That meed to Appius' favour, which alone
Is due to valour? To acquire that favour,
What crime have I committed? From the camp,
Alas! e'en from the camp is honour fled;
This Rome, and, what is worse, Rome's foes know well;
Those, who, a boast, not heretofore enjoyed,
May now exult in, on the back to have pierced
More than one son of Rome. 'Tis true, the wounds,
The honour'd wounds, which on my breast I shew thee,
Such as the Roman mothers bless'd ere while
When they beheld them on their sons, are now
Received unluckily, and will assume
A less imposing aspect, since we fight
Beneath thy banners. I have pledg'd myself
To Rome, by an inviolable oath,
That, if I ever to the camp return,
Rome shall be born again. Thy words to me
Are fraught with craft; my heart is on my lips.
A soldier, father, citizen, am I:
Of evils foreign to myself I speak not;
While Rome endures them, I endure them also.—
But my Virginia ...

Ap.
'Twas not I that first
Incited Marcus to contest his claim,
Though thus by lying fame I am aspers'd;
Yet, perhaps, I can dissuade him from the project.
For thee I feel compassion: and perchance,
Without commotion, or the chance of blood,
I might restore thy daughter to thy arms,
If thou felt'st for her as a father should.
But thou dost thirst for blood; dost wish to see
Thy daughter wedded to Icilius,
And wouldst involve that daughter, with thyself,
In the destruction of a miscreant traitor.

Virginius.
To me canst thou restore her?

Ap.
If thou wilt
Refuse her to Icilius.

Virginius.
She is his
By a sworn compact.

Ap.
He'll release thee from it;
To day ... by death ... Go, go, there now remains
But a few moments for mature reflection.
Thy child is thine, if not to Icilius given:
But if she be his wife, no power of mine
Can hinder her from perishing with him.

Virginius.
Unhappy sire! ... To what am I reduced? ...

SCENE THE THIRD.

Appius.
Ap.
He is too much a Roman. Appius
Himself might fear, if Rome within her walls
Had many such as he. But two, no more,
Two are the Romans worthy of my hatred:
And one is aged, and he is a father;
Strong fetters these: his own rash insolence
Shall be the engine of the other's ruin.
To make him victim of his headstrong passion
Shall be my project ... But who do I see?
Behold Virginia and her mother come
Amid the people's tears. I now must try
Or to intimidate, or to seduce them.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Appius, Numitoria, Virginia.
Ap.
While time remains to you, and it is short,
Withdraw a little from that boisterous train,
Which rather may endanger than protect you.
You see me not at present as a judge:
Approach, Virginia; hear me; thou wilt see me
Wearing ere long a different aspect here.

Virginia.
Hast thou, oh Appius, spoken with my father?

Nu.
Hast thou repented? Hast thou, taught by fear,
Learned to be more discreet?

Ap.
By fear, say'st thou? ...
No, but by pity. Hear me; and my words
Will prove my heart is not impress'd by fear.
Virginia, I love thee; with my lips
I ratify my fondness: violence
There can be none, to snatch thee from my power;
But many reasons why thou shouldst submit.

Virginia.
Is this thy change? ah, mother, let us go.

Ap.
Remain, and hear me. Art thou then, Virginia,
For thy Icilius so infatuated?
In him, if enterprising ardour please thee,
Am I perchance less passionate than he?
Does his rank charm thee? Though he be once more
A tribune, could he thus with me compare?
If his free heart and independent feelings?
Does not my breast a nobler heart contain,
More independent feelings? I, who mean
To make himself, and all his partisans,
Submit to my authority; while they
Obey my nod ...

Nu.
And dost thou thus presume
To unveil thy purposes? ...

Ap.
I am advanced
So far; so little now remains to do,
That I dare manifest them openly.
How great I am, your thought cannot conceive:
The tongue of Marcus, as the sword of thousands,
Is under my controul. If thou refuse
To be Icilius' spouse, I instantly
The process set aside.

Virginia.
Abandon him? ...
Ah, rather ...

Nu.
Oh, audacious turpitude!
Oh, miscreant! ...

Ap.
Dost thou think that his regard
Can bear comparison with mine? His tales
Of liberty, his tribunitial office,
Conspiracies and tumults, are his passion.
Long was he silent; now he deems thyself
A means once more of reinstalling him:
His turbulent ambition makes him speak,
And not his love for thee. But grant, that I
Should also, in this undertaking, brave
Imminent danger; thence thou mayest infer
Th'immeasurable ardour of my love:
Power, life, and fame, for thee I have endanger'd.
All am I ready, for thy dear love's sake,
To sacrifice; Icilius from that love
Hopes all to gain.

Virginia.
No more.—Icilius vile,
By this comparison of thyself with him,
Nor thyself noble, canst thou ever make.
Short is the parellel: within himself
He has the all, of which thou hast no part:
Nothing of him can ever be in thee:
As much as I hate thee, I love Icilius.
Why dost thou speak of love? Dar'st thou bestow
A name so sacred on thy impious lust?
Not that I e'er would be so, but in thought
It never yet hath entered in thy heart
To seek me as a spouse? ...

Ap.
The time perchance ...

Virginia.
Think not that I shall ever ...

Nu.
Thou didst mean
To mock us: oh indignity! ...

Virginia.
Thou miscreant,
To no condition canst thou make me listen.

Ap.
'Tis well: thou shalt at last fall in my power,
All sprinkled with the life-blood of thy lover.

Virginia.
Oh Heaven! ...

Ap.
Yes, sprinkled with thy lover's blood,
And with thy sire's.

Nu.
Oh impious!

Virginia.
My father!

Ap.
All. At my nod falls whomsoe'er I will:
The fate of Siccius proclaim'd this truth.
One hour is wanting now, or ere I give
A signal for the massacre.

Virginia.
Icilius! ...
One hour! one hour alone! Oh, Appius, pity!
My lover ... and my father ...

Nu.
Two such heroes
Expiring at thy nod? And dost thou think
That thence thy power will be impregnable?

Ap.
And should the whole with me be overturn'd,
Would such an universal crash restore
Virginius and Icilius?

Virginia.
Appius,
Thou mak'st me tremble ...

Nu.
... Ah! ... do listen to me.
What, if I supplicate?

Ap.
With but one word
She saves the lives of both.

Virginia.
... Appius ... suspend
For this one day the blow ... I do conjure thee.
Meanwhile I'll banish every thought of marriage ...
Severed from me, ah let Icilius live;
I will endeavour from my heart to tear
His image ... and from him I will withdraw
My hopes, all placed in him so many years;
Perchance ... meanwhile ... the power of time ... alas!
What can I more? Ah! let Icilius live:
Before thy feet I prostrate fall. But I,
Alas! what do I do? ... what do I say?
Time will still make me hate thee more and more,
And more Icilius love. I will fear nothing;
We are Romans: and my lover and my father
Would never keep a life that was the fruit
Of their dishonour: if they once are slain,
Nothing remains for me to lose. In time
Wilt thou not give to me a sword, oh mother?

Nu.
Come ... come ... oh daughter ... gods there are in Heaven,
The avengers of oppressed innocence;
Come: let us trust in them ...

Virginia.
Ah, do thou be
The prop of my weak frame ... my footsteps faulter ...

SCENE THE FIFTH.

Appius.
Ap.
And am I baffled yet? To Appius
Fresh obstacles are only fresh incentives:
Plebeian beauty, who hadst scarcely warm'd,
Unaided by events, this heart of mine,
With a slight, transient flame, now that for thee
Rome shudders with disdain, immoveably,
Profoundly in my bosom thou art fixed;
Now much as is the very power I grasp at,
Nay more, art thou essential to my peace.
But the sixth hour approaches. Let us see
If all is ready to convince the people,
That in themselves no longer, but in me,
Is centred all the majesty of Rome.