University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

The Etrurian Camp.
PORSENNA
(coming forward).
Propitious Fortune smiles upon our arms:
The bold presumptuous sons of Rome are tam'd,
And supplicate in vain the angry gods
To stir in their behalf. Methinks I see
These haughty spirits bow'd beneath the weight
Of dire misfortune. Clos'd within their walls,
In throngs they pour their lamentations forth,
And weary Jove with futile prayers. No more
Their conquering legions scour the fertile plains;
Their senators, their aged and their young,
Their matrons, wives, and virgins, bend alike
The stubborn knee, and to their altars cling,
Rending the air with vows, with groans, and tears.
Gods! how my soul rejoices at the thought,
Since in my grasp is plac'd th'avenging rod
To scourge this proud and daring race, whose arms
So oft have bow'd Etruria's sons in fight,
And made us wear the Roman yoke.

LENTELLUS.
Most royal sir, to you our country owes
The glorious conquest of their legion'd hosts:
The palsied foe shrinks at thy martial name,
And, terror struck, contemplates all thy deeds.
Porsenna is at once the Romans dread,
And bless'd Etruria's boast.

PORSENNA.
And what befits the monarch's crown so well
As love from those who own the sceptr'd sway,
And bow submissive to their country's laws?
I seek not to conciliate faction's hate,
But live in good men's hearts: the praise of vice
Is ever by the virtuous mind contemn'd:
'Tis baneful as the pestitential wind,
On which rides meagre death. Th'applause of vice
Blots out fair virtue from the soul that's prais'd,
And singles it for infamy.

LENTELLUS.
Such ne'er will prove Porsenna's lot. His acts,
Weigh'd in the scale of justice, claim alike
The smile of gods, the love of worthy men.

PORSENNA.
Tell me, Lentellus, are our proffered terms
Now forwarded to Rome?

LENTELLUS.
A messenger, by dawn dispatch'd, bore hence
Your summons to the Roman senate.

PORSENNA.
'Tis well:—
Let them at large discuss the weighty point,
Still shall they bow submissive to my will,
And own me for a conqueror. If, stern,
They dare my clemency deride, and bar
Against victorious troops their city's gates,
To-morrow's dawn will I besiege proud Rome,
And level with the earth its massive walls:
Etrurian swords shall bathe in Roman blood;
Consuming flames shall rage on every side,
And with its spoils my legions will return
Triumphant to their friends and countrymen.

LENTELLUS.
Swell'd with the pride of conquest, even now
Each soldier burns with godlike emulation:
Their big hearts, eager for the glorious fray,
Tumultuous throb against their manly breasts,
And nerve them with a more than mortal fire.
I would the senate, deaf to our demand,
Return'd us bold defiance; for I thirst
To root this warlike people from the soil.
Ev'n as a gentle stream, by torrents swell'd,
O'erflows its banks, and deluges around
The fertile plains: so, gradually increas'd,
This pigmy tribe, to mighty numbers grown,
Against their neighbours bear the hostile steel,
And seem to covet universal sway.

PORSENNA.
Lentellus, hold!
Sweet mercy is the attribute of gods,
And graces more the hero than his spoils,
Or pining captives to his chariot leash'd.
My friend, the Roman pride is humbled now,
The gods forefend that we should crave more blood.
For me, I trust they will not madly spurn
The good that's tender'd; but with open arms,
Not as victors, but as friends, embrace us.
Yet soft!
Trumpet sounds.
Yon trumpet's clangor speaks the herald near.
Enter Etrurian Herald with a Roman messenger.
Our fix'd determination being known,
What answer bring'st thou from the Senate?

ROMAN.
Porsenna, as a Roman I shall speak;
For well I know your manliness of soul
Will not the frankness of my tongue despise.
I plead my country's cause,—the cause of Rome.
My speech, untutor'd in the whining phrase
Of honied flattery, shall quick unfold
The answer of our reverend rulers.
Porsenna wills that Romans should be slaves—
And Romans will defend their liberty:
Propitious gods smile on Porsenna's arms—
Fate frowns on Rome, still Romans dare be free.
You would my countrymen should own the yoke,
And place reliance on your clemency—
We cannot bend before Etruria's king,
Nor shame our gods, our country, and our rights.
Such terms as honor dictates we will hear.
We know, the worst that can befall is death:
And who so base but would resign his life
To save him from dishonour?
Porsenna would not hesitate in this;
His valour and his virtues stamp him Man:
Then why should Romans, by a deed of shame,
Insure Porsenna's hate?—If, less severe,
You proffer terms becoming manly souls,
Our senators will purchase peace; if not,
Romans know how to die.

PORSENNA.
Roman, attend!
Not to dispraise bold virtue would I speak,
For I do reverence thy country's deeds,
Yet inwardly lament the tides of blood
Wherein Etruria's sons ere long must bathe
Their vengeful hands. My injur'd people's cause
Hath urg'd me to adopt a conqueror's phrase,
Nor can I vary in my fix'd intent;
But on this bold defiance must proceed,
And hurl destruction on thy daring race.
—'Tis thus resolv'd:
And to your senate therefore bear my words;
Still adding, that Porsenna grants this day
For further consultation.

ROMAN.
Our senators demand no lenity:
Porsenna is resolv'd, and so are they.
We'll to the last defend our city's rights,
And, nobly buried in its ruin'd walls,
Purchase a glorious and immortal grave.

[Exit.
PORSENNA.
Conduct him safe without the camp.—
Lentellus, they decide as thou requir'st;
My proferr'd friendship is with boldness spurn'd,
And I must frame my soul to deeds of death.
To thy charge do I yield the dread attack—
To-morrow's dawn must to our soldiers' rage
The spoils of Rome consign.

LENTELLUS.
Aye, and the senators and people's blood
Shall pay this bold presumption.—What is Rome,
That it should haughtily defy the foe
Whose conqu'ring arms have tam'd its children's pride,
And even now, before their walls encamp'd,
Threaten with famine, flame, and sword conjoin'd,
To lay its altars with the humble dust?
What is this race—which boasts descent from gods,
That it should contumeliously despise
The terms of friendship and the shafts of death?
Curse on their pride!—but they shall rue the dawn:
Yes, by our gods, to-morrow's rising sun,
Crowning yon city with its golden beams,
Shall give it, like a gay deck'd sacrifice,
To slaughter and eternal ruin.

PORSENNA.
My friend, thy dauntless courage stands confess'd,
And bold achievements claim thy sov'reign's praise:
Yet, why this vengeance and this thirst of blood?
I reverence the actions thou contemn'st,
And rather weep than vaunt their dire effects.
Thou must, to gain Porsenna's love entire,
Root vengeance from thy breast; it is a vice
That blots from out the catalogue of fame
The conqueror's deeds, and slurs the hero's name.

LENTELLUS.
Belike you do forget, most royal sir,
Your slaughter'd subjects' ghosts that shriek aloud,
And cry for vengeance on their murderers.

PORSENNA.
They nobly fought their mother-country's cause;
They died in her defence; and therefore rest,
Freed from the passions of this mortal state,
In bless'd Elysium.
The soldier's spirit, 'ray'd in honor's garb,
Ne'er shrieks for vengeance—Nor fame, nor conquest,
Nor spoils of war with multitudinous shouts,
So well become the man as Clemency—
Without this attribute, the laurel wreath
Fades on the victor's brow; but, grac'd with this,
The breath of malice cannot blast its bud;
It weathers all the rude assaults of fate,
And wears an everlasting bloom.

LENTELLUS.
I shall endeavour so to frame my thoughts,
That they may henceforth meet Porsenna's praise.

PORSENNA.
Think not I'd chide thee, good Lentellus:—no;
I would but cull a noxious weed, that mars
The growth of virtue's plant.—Thou shalt be all
Thy sovereign's heart can wish, not merit half
Porsenna's love.

[Exit with attendants.
LENTELLUS
(solus).
Curse on his noble qualities, they blaze,
And like the noontide sun absorb the beams
Of every lesser orb.—Why do I shrink,
And like the silvery moon confess his power,
Wasting whene'er he darts his godlike rays
Athwart my envious soul? I know not why,
Yet there's in virtue's tone a 'witching charm
That doth unbend the purpose of my soul
And make me reverence the theme I hate.—
Down, busy thought! and in thy place arise
The drowning voice of bold Ambition.—Who
But Lentellus now shall lead to vengeance,
And thus the soldiers' love obtain? To me
Deputed is the slaughter of the foe
And sacking of proud Rome—this well shall aid,
And onward spur my dread intent—Once gain'd
The base plebeian voice, I'll mask no more
The love of sov'reignty wherewith I'm fir'd.
This hand shall beat the opposing barrier down,
And satiate my ambition with a crown.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

(without the Camp.)
Enter Silvia, disguised as an Etrurian officer.
SILVIA.
What mingled sweets and sorrows wait on love:
The wounded heart, like one that crops a rose,
Forgets the thorn while gazing on the flower,
And, pleas'd, ne'er heeds the sting. The giddy boy,
Who climbs from branch to branch the lofty tree,
Thinks not of danger, till the summit gain'd,
He bends his look below. So is't with love,
Whose smart yields pleasure, and whose pleasure's pain.
[Lentellus entering in the back ground, pauses on hearing Silvia sing.
SONG.
What will not Love defy?—The season's change,
The ocean's perils, and portending death,
All shrink before the majesty of Love.
Where'er it strikes, 'tis sole divinity,
And reigns unrivall'd here. Else why this guise,
This bold assumption of the manly port?
Why have I sought the rugged soldier's fare?
Why for a camp abandon'd is my home,
And, in the place of sweet domestic toils,
Do I the shield and massive weapon bear,
Nor shrink before the blood-smirch'd brow of Mars?
For whom but thee, lov'd Manlius, do I thus
My womanhood unsex, and, in despite
Of worldly custom and a virgin's shame,
The converse of the rude licentious tongue,
And revelry unbridled, hear?—'Tis Love,
'Tis Manlius that hath wrought this mighty change;
Who, by these outward robes deceiv'd, to me,
As to a friend, his secrets doth impart.
But soft! he comes.

Enter Furius Manlius.
MANLIUS.
My friend, my Junius, I have sought thee long—
Why wander'st thou alone without the camp,
When Manlius needs thy soothing voice to lull
The inward perturbation of his soul?
My love-distemper'd mind is link'd to thine
By Friendship's sacred bond: thine every word
Both calms and nourishes this inward fire:
Thy prudent counsels, breath'd into mine ear,
Like cooling zephyrs lull my raging breast;
But being absent, fiercer burns the flame;
Then all is madness, love, and Silvia.

SILVIA.
Becalm thy troubled mind; let Reason's hand
Still temper all thy thoughts: as dew from heaven,
The voice of Reason, whispering to thy soul,
Will all the feverish heat of Love allay,
And rock thee in the arms of gentle peace.
What would'st thou, Manlius? Is not Sylvia thine?
Did not her virgin heart proclaim its love,
When with Etruria's sons thou took'st the field?
Hast thou not dwelt with rapture on the thought?
Hast thou not told me how she wept, and sigh'd,
And the bless'd gods implored in thy behalf?
And would'st thou more from maiden coyness?

MANLIUS.
Yes, my Junius:
I would the sum of love were now complete;
That Sylvia by the nuptial bond were mine
For ever. How long will our conqu'ring troops,
Already sated with the blood of Rome,
Delay the wish'd-for peace? When shall we greet
Our native soil, our kindred, and our loves?

SILVIA.
Rely on fate, my friend; whose smiles till now
Have beam'd upon our arms; whose outstretch'd hand
Hath still preserv'd thee from the hostile steel
For scenes of future bliss? Think on the day
When, with a victor's emulation swell'd,
Thine arms will clasp a mistress' throbbing breast,
When tears of joy will grace a mother's eye,
And rapt'rous smiles to view a conquering son
Play on thine aged father's brow! Oh, think—
And let the contemplation cheer thy heart!

MANLIUS.
My Junius, fancy kindles at thy words:
E'en now methinks these arms ungirded lay,
And naught but sounds of peace and happiness
Swell on the passing wind: A father's praise,
A mother's and a virgin's joyful tears,
Enraptur'd do I picture to my sense:
Now 'fore the altars of our country's gods
In gratitude I seem to crouch the knee,
And offer up my soul in fervent pray'r.
Junius, thy words are inspiration fraught,
And as I look upon thy beardless mien,
In pleas'd amaze I'm lost—such youth, such sense,
And friendship tried, co-mingle in thy frame,
As almost make me bow with reverence.

SILVIA.
If friendship thus can act, to what extreme
Wou'd love and Sylvia urge thy fever'd mind?
I fear me, Manlius, thou'rt a truant grown,
And that esteem for one that wills thee well,
Slackens thy sum of love.

MANLIUS.
I prithee cease, my friend.
What is impossible to love? For love,
I'd hie me swifter than the posting wind;
This rugged voice I'd fashion to soft phrase;
These arms, forgetful of their nervy strength,
Should from the distaff twine the flaxen cord.
Alike can love with giant strength inspire.
Methinks from out the bowels of the earth
The rooted oak I could uprend, or tear
The flinty bosom of the rock. This voice
Should shame the constant roaring of the surge;
These eyes the lustre of the sun defy,
Dimming the source of light. Oh! I cou'd act
What words ne'er figur'd, nor conception thought,
So raging is the love wherewith I burn.

SILVIA.
If so, in peace thou wilt not heed thy friend,
But on the sweet remembrance of the past
Junius must live—by Manlius forgot.

MANLIUS.
Nay, nay; think not so meanly of thy friend—
Tho' love's a raging and a lasting fire,
Yet there's in friendship's voice a silv'ry sound,
That steals upon the soul, and fastens there:
Junius, I never shall forget thy faith.

SILVIA.
I do believe thy friendship and thy love;
And cou'd I breathe my thoughts in Silvia's ear,
My trumpet-tongue should echo forth thy praise,
Still kindling more the flame within her breast.
But come; we'll to the camp; for e'er this hour
Rome's final doom is fix'd.

MANLIUS.
Obedient to thy voice, my servile steps
Still follow thee. Thou art my faithful guide,
Whose prudent words recall my wand'ring thoughts,
Conducting them in Reason's sober tract.

[Exeunt.
LENTELLUS
(advancing).
It is the noble maid! the beauteous fair,
Whose haughtiness once scorn'd my proffer'd love,
I knew not why. The myst'ry is no more;
For in a Manlius I my rival view,
Alike the lover, and the well-beloved.
And shall I tamely be a looker on,
And yield without a blow the precious prize?
Such conduct suits but ill my daring thoughts.
Lentellus, if thou canst not gain her love,
Let hatred dictate thy revenge—Why so?
He knows her not; but link'd in friendship's bond,
With brotherly affection opes his soul.
This chain must straight be sever'd—Jealousy,
Thy blasting power shall work my soul's intent.
Should he not swallow treason's gilded bait,
And fall an easier prey? It is decreed:
My slighted love, my hatred both combine—
They fall the victims of my just revenge.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

(without the Camp.)
Enter Manlius.
MANLIUS.
He's gone;
My Junius, to assay my prudence, flies,
And leaves me to indulge those secret thoughts
Which henceforth have prov'd foes to Reason's voice.
Let my warm fancy own her sober sway;
Nor, like a mettled steed, defy controul,
And spurn the even rein. But hither comes,
With pensive step, the great Porsenna's friend,
Our noble chief Lentellus.

Enter Lentellus.
LENTELLUS.
(apparently surprised on beholding Manlius).
Welcome, our army's pride, whom long I've sought—
How fares the noble Manlius?

MANLIUS.
More eager after fame, since thus he hears
The lavish'd praise from one so great in power
As brave Lentellus.

LENTELLUS.
Thou hast a soldier's mind; a breast that glows
With reverence for Etruria and thy friends.

MANLIUS.
I'd freely bleed to aid my country's rights,
And die to serve the chosen of my soul.

LENTELLUS.
I know thou wou'dst—
And to revenge thy kindred and thy friend.

MANLIUS.
If treachery dealt the blow, I'd seek revenge,
And compass it, tho' in the jaws of death.

LENTELLUS.
Manlius, thou had'st once a brother—

MANLIUS.
I had, Lentellus; and a brother's love
Still mourns his ashes long inurn'd in death.

LENTELLUS.
He bravely fell—and by a Roman hand.

MANLIUS.
He died that death which best befits a man—
Covered with honor's wounds; with gashes gain'd
In brave defence of all we should hold dear,
Our land, our gods, our king, and liberty.

LENTELLUS.
Wou'dst thou embrace thy brother's murderer,
In chains and at thy will?

MANLIUS.
'Twas not th'assassin's steel that drank his blood;
'Twas man 'gainst man. A Roman arm oppos'd,
And fought his country's cause, as did my brother:
Such is no murderer: yet such a man
I cou'd not fondly link within my arms;
All Nature wou'd cry shame upon the deed.
Yet being quite defenceless, I wou'd scorn
Ignoble vengeance—To the upright soul,
No arms so strongly shield a foe from death,
As when in chains he waits upon your mercy.

LENTELLUS.
But in the field—

MANLIUS
(hastily interrupting him).
I'd hunt him, till he own'd my conquering steel,
Or sent my soul to seek my brother's shade.

LENTELLUS.
Revenge might have been thine.

MANLIUS.
Ye gods! and did it 'scape me in the field?
Then curse the dire mischance.

LENTELLUS.
But for Porsenna, it might still be thine.

MANLIUS.
Porsenna!

LENTELLUS.
Aye!
His wav'ring soul to Rome wou'd fain grant peace:
He shrinks at slaughter and a just revenge.

MANLIUS.
What mean'st thou, noble chief?

LENTELLUS.
But for Porsenna, Rome is in our power,
And ample vengeance thine.

MANLIUS.
Rome at our mercy!

LENTELLUS.
By famine, flame, and sword assail'd.

MANLIUS.
And therefore on a fallen foe, must I
Most dastard-like deal out revenge?—Never—
No—rather wither these my sinews up;
Grow stiff my joints, and blast my bud of youth,
Ere Manlius stoop to such dishonor.

LENTELLUS
(aside).
His virtues mar my plann'd intent.—Treason,
Thy flame will never kindle in his breast:
Let love and jealousy my purpose work.
(Aloud)
Manlius, thy virtues now blaze forth indeed;
I've rous'd them into action, and applaud
That gentle mercy which thou dost uphold.
Forgive me, if to learn thy inmost thoughts
I practis'd fraud: but friendship urg'd me thus
To teach my tongue the language of deceit.

MANLIUS.
I'm much beholden to Lentellus' love.

LENTELLUS
(with apparent feeling).
I wou'd thy friendship and thy fervent love
Met the desert they merit.

MANLIUS.
What means my chief?

LENTELLUS.
Does thy soul own no touch of tenderness?
Is no fair form engraven there?

MANLIUS
(with anxiety).
Speak, I conjure you.

LENTELLUS.
Know'st thou the name of Silvia?

MANLIUS
(strenuously).
I do! I do!

LENTELLUS.
Thou hast a friend—

MANLIUS
(fervently).
Aye, and a tried one, too.

LENTELLUS.
Then mark my words, most noble, generous youth!
Trust not thy love—and of thy friend beware;
Beware of Junius.

[Exit—Manlius vainly endeavouring to detain him.
MANLIUS.
What damning words were those:
“Trust not thy love, and of thy friend beware!”
What wild contagion thro' my soul they spread,
And give me up to racking doubts and fears?
Will the bless'd gods to vice propitious prove?
Will Justice' even scale preponderate,
And with the guilty side? Will Phœbus turn
His wonted course? Will Nature sterile prove?
Or Virtue copulate with Vice? Such things
Were likelier far than that my love and friend
Should both prove false.—But see where Junius comes—
Beneath that front, can villany reside?
See how he smiles—the very seal of Truth
Is stamp'd upon his brow.—But why those words?
What should Lentellus thus to baseness urge?
Again I rage with jealousy and love.

Enter Silvia.
SILVIA.
Why this disordered mien? this glaring eye?
Those limbs convuls'd? Oh, speak! unveil thy soul,
And let not Junius long entreat in vain.

MANLIUS.
His voice; his air;—ye gods! 'tis basely false,
Else could I all my sum of rage retain?
Could guilt the searching eye of truth defy,
And not be blasted with the gaze?—'Tis false,
'Tis calumny; my Junius is my friend.

SILVIA
(feelingly).
And did thy mind e'er harbour doubt? Just heav'n!
That Manlius ever should mistrust his friend!

MANLIUS.
That look! that starting tear!—it cannot be—
For ever from my mem'ry blot the thought—
And take the wanderer Junius to my heart—

(they embrace.)
SILVIA.
Yet why the motive of these doubts conceal?
Explain—that I may vindicate my truth.

MANLIUS.
By our dear friendships, I entreat thee cease,
Nor further urge my speech.

SILVIA.
To prove my friendship, I'm for ever mute,
Since Manlius will it so. We'll to the camp,
And there forget the past.

MANLIUS.
Lead on—thy friend attends thee.
[Exit Silvia.
Lentellus shall the secret source unfold
Of this base calumny. I'll question home,
And either prove my friend and Silvia false,
Or gain the liar's name, and vengeance take
For this detested machination.

[Exit.