University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE THIRD.

Titus, Tiberius, among Lictors, Brutus, Collatinus.
Bru.
Let every man retire: do ye alone
Advance.

Tit.
Ah father! ...

Bru.
I of Rome am consul.—
I ask of you if ye are citizens
Of Rome.

Tib.
We are; and sons of Brutus yet ...

Tit.
And we will prove it, if the consul deign
To hear us.

Col.
At their gestures, at their words,
I feel my heart transpierced.

Bru.
—This is a scroll,
Which the perfidious Mamilius bore
To the proscribed Tarquinii. In that paper,
With many other names, are yours inscribed.
Ye to your country then are traitors; now
No more the sons of Brutus, but the sons
Of infamous expatriated tyrants.

Tit.
'Tis true, (too true,) that I first added there
'Neath many other noble names, my name,
And his my brother afterwards inscribed,
By my example urged. He is not guilty:
Be it whate'er it may, the penalty
To me alone is due. He evermore
Dissuaded me ...

Tib.
Yet I, perplex'd, confounded,
Knew not what other council to propose:
And it seem'd indispensable to us
To save, at all events, our sire betray'd.
Mamilius had so artfully perplex'd
Falsehood and truth, that we, caught by his arts,
Deeming our father by all men abandon'd,
Were inadvertently ourselves constrain'd
Thus to betray him, by our too great love.
Ah! if we're criminal, alike have we
Incurr'd the punishment annex'd to guilt:
But the sole punishment we apprehend,
The sole insufferable punishment,
(Paternal hatred,) we call heaven to witness,
And swear that neither of us merit this.

Bru.
Oh infamy! and have ye promised then
To reinstate, with these confederate traitors,
The banish'd tyrant?

Tit.
By my signature
I hoped t'appease that tyrant towards my father ...

Bru.
To Brutus! Tarquin be appeased towards Brutus!—
And even were it thus, perfidious youth!
Should'st thou betray thy country e'en for me?
Did ye not both erewhile, both swear with me,
Rather to die than ever to submit,
Let him be who he may, to any king?

Tit.
This I deny not, no ...

Bru.
Then ye are both
Perjured and traitors! ... In this paper ye
Have sign'd at once your own death ... and your father's! ...

Tib.
Thou weepest, father! ... If paternal tears,
Moistening the stern eyes of the rigid judge,
Attest at least that altogether we
Are not unworthy of thy tenderness,
We die exulting for the sake of Rome.

Tit.
But, though mistaken, Titus neither was
Or vile or criminal ...

Bru.
Oh sons! oh sons! ...
—Why do I call ye sons? Ye are my first,
Ye are my sole dishonour. At the expense
Both of his glory and his liberty,
Ye, ye would purchase for your wretched father
A despicable life! Ye would reduce me
To pine with you in double slavery,
Then when 'twas in your power to go with
Free and unshackled, to a generous death!
And to achieve an enterprize so base,
Ye became traitors to your nascent country!
To honour deaf, and perjured to the Gods!—
And let me grant that I had been to-day
Deserted and betray'd by every Roman;
That, following your example, I had stoop'd
The pity of the tyrant to implore;
Ah fools! yet more, far more than guilty fools!
Could you e'er think that the ferocious heart
Of an expell'd, exasperated tyrant,
Could aught imbibe except a raging thirst
For bloodshed and revenge? To certain death,
To an opprobrious and lingering death,
Did ye, to save him, now reserve your father!

Tit.
Fear, I confess, in reading in that scroll
So many, and so many potent names,
My breast invaded, and made me esteem
The lofty enterprize impossible.
Already, as thou knowest, (although my heart
Wish'd its success,) I thought it difficult,
And in itself both perilous and doubtful:
Hence, when I saw the aspect of events
In such a short space absolutely change;
Saw to the king the citizens return,
And those the most illustrious, in a crowd;
I fear'd for Rome, where much blood, and in vain,
And first of all thy blood, was doom'd to run.
A hope sprung in my heart, that, if our names
Were added to the names already written,
Thus, by our means, our father might at least
Be rescued from the vengeance of the king:
And this to us Mamilius craftily
Promised in many words.

Bru.
What hast thou done?
What hast thou done? Oh heaven! Ah, at that time
Thou wert a citizen of Rome no longer;
Since thou for me betrayedst Rome ... Nor then
Wert thou a son of Brutus, since his honour
Thou soldest at the price of servitude.

Tib.
Ah father, do not wreak on him alone
Thy just disdain; I equally deserve it.
I also fear'd for thee, I must confess it;
We loved our father better than our country:
Yes, father, this alone was our offence.

Col.
Ah wretched youths! ... Ah wretched father!

Bru.
Yes,
Ye were indeed more than the sons of Rome,
The sons of Brutus! Brought up as ye were
In abject slavery, I indeed constrain'd
From the complexion of the times to cheat you;
With lofty and invigorating thoughts
I could not foster you as it behoved
A citizen and parent ... Oh my sons,
I for your error seek no other cause.
Myself, myself alone I blame for this,
My silence and my pristine servitude;
And, though assumed, my very fear itself,
Which taught you also to be apprehensive.
Ah! pity in my bosom is not mute; ...
But, in a more authoritative voice,
Tremendous justice to my conscience cries;
And Rome now rightfully lays claim to it.—
My sons, beloved sons, I am, alas!
More wretched far than you ... Ah why, oh heaven!
Since in your free arbitrement it lay
Rome to betray, or doom your sire to death,
Wherefore did ye forget that to avert
From Brutus infamy (his only death)
A sword was all sufficient? And he had one;
This his sons knew; and how, when they knew this,
Could they one moment tremble for their father?

Col.
Ah! for awhile, oh Brutus, somewhat calm
Thy grief and indignation; yet who knows ...
To save them perhaps ...

Tit.
Ah! ye would wish in vain
To save me now: I could no longer live!
I've lost my sire's esteem, perhaps his love ...
No, 'tis not possible for me to live.
But let my sad example exculpate
My innocent, younger brother; save him, father ...

Tib.
Immense, oh father, is our guilt. But we
Alike are guilty; and thou wert not just,
If thou on us an equal punishment
Inflictest not. Perchance expressly now
The tutelary genius of Rome
Decrees to liberty a lasting basis
In our severe example.

Bru.
On my sons! ...
Ah! let this now suffice. Your excellent,
Sublime, immortalizing penitence
Tears as by piecemeal my distracted heart ...
Alas! e'en yet I am, e'en yet a father
More than a consul ... Through my every vein
I feel a horrid chillness creep ... Ah all,
Yes, all my blood will, for my country's sake,
Ere long be shed ... To re-establish Rome
The last blood indispensable is mine:
Provided that I enfranchise my country,
I swear, oh sons, that I will not one day
Survive your loss.—Let me for the last time,
Beloved children, clasp you to my breast; ...
Yet I can do it ... Tears, alas! forbid ...
My further utterance ... Much-loved sons, farewell.
Consul of Rome, to thee do I restore
The fatal tablet. An imperious duty
Wills, that to-morrow, without subterfuge,
It be presented to assembled Rome.
Meanwhile the guilty to thy custody
Are all committed. I will also come,
At early dawn, to meet thee in the forum.
I cannot longer now endure the presence
Of such an agonizing spectacle.

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Collatinus, Titus, Tiberius, Lictors.
Col.
Fatal necessity!

Tit.
Unhappy father!

Tib.
Provided Rome be saved ...

Col.
All follow me.