[][]

VIRGINIA A TRAGEDY.

[]

VIRGINIA A TRAGEDY, WITH ODES, PASTORALS, AND TRANSLATIONS.

By Mrs. BROOKE.

—I with Fear
Repeat my Verſes to the public Ear.
Francis's Horace 4th Sat. 1ſt Book.

LONDON: Printed for the AUTHOR, And ſold by A. MILLAR in the Strand. MDCCLVI.

TO The Right Honorable THE LADY ELIZABETH CECIL.

[]
MADAM,

I Have too great a Reſpect for your Ladyſhip's Commands, to diſobey them, even when they contradict my Inclinations; and ſince you are as averſe to hear Praiſe, as ſtudious to deſerve it, I will not offend that delicate Modeſty I cannot but admire. Indulge me however, Madam, in the Vanity of ſaying, I had your Ladyſhip's Permiſſion to prefix your Name to theſe Papers, on Condition [vi] I avoided the uſual Style of Dedicators; and permit me to add, that,

I am, With the moſt unfeigned Reſpect, And a Sincerity not always found in Addreſſes of this Nature,
MADAM,
Your Ladyſhip's Moſt oblig'd, Moſt obedient, and Moſt devoted Servant, FRANCES BROOKE.

PREFACE.

[vii]

THE Author of theſe poetical Attempts, begs Leave to ſay, that ſhe ſhould not have printed them, but that ſhe is precluded from all Hopes of ever ſeeing the Tragedy brought upon the Stage, by there having been two ſo lately on the ſame Subject. If her's ſhould be found to have any greater Reſemblance to the two repreſented, than the Sameneſs of the Story made unavoidable, of which ſhe is not conſcious, it muſt have been accidental on her ſide, as there are many Perſons, of very diſtinguiſhed Rank, and unqueſtionable Veracity, who ſaw her's in Manuſcript before the others appeared, and will witneſs for her, that ſhe has taken no advantage of having ſeen them. She muſt here do Mr. Criſp the Juſtice to ſay, that any Reſemblance muſt have been equally accidental on his part, as he neither did, nor could ſee her Virginia before his own was play'd; [viii] Mr. Garrick having declined reading her's, till Mr. Criſp's was publiſhed.

She is ſenſible of the Danger of appearing in Print, and of the many Imperfections in theſe Pieces; but hopes, her Sex, and the early Time of Li'e at which moſt of them were wrote, will plead her Excuſe; ſhe aſks no more, than to be read with the fame Candor and Indulgence with which ſhe herſelf reads the Productions of others.

One thing more ſhe begs Leave to ſay, that ſhe was greatly encouraged to this Publication, by the favorable Reception three Odes of her's met with, which were inſerted in a weekly Paper called The Old Maid: as this Volume may poſſibly come into the Hands of Perſons who are Strangers to the Paper, ſhe has reprinted thoſe Odes with the others.

And now, invoking the Powers for friendly Gales, ſhe ventures to launch her little Bark into the wide Sea of Criticiſm, and ‘Trembling quits the Shore.’

[]

By this AUTHOR, Speedily will be publiſhed, PROPOSALS For Printing by SUBSCRIPTION, A POETICAL TRANSLATION WITH NOTES. OF Il Paſtor Fido, AND OTHER POEMS.

FROM THE ORIGINAL ITALIAN OF Signor BATTISTA GUARINI.

Dramatis Perſonae.

[]
MEN.
  • Appius.
  • Virginius.
  • Icilius.
  • Numitorius.
  • Trebonius.
  • Claudius.
WOMEN.
  • Virginia.
  • Icilia.
  • Prieſteſs of Diana, Virgins, Matrons, Romans, Lictors, &c.
SCENE Rome.

ACT FIRST,

[1]

SCENE I.

[The Houſe of VIRGINIUS.]
NUMITORIUS, VIRGINIA.
NUMITORIUS.
WEEP not, Virginia, all ſhall yet be well;
Now by my Siſter's Shade, thy virtuous Mother,
I ſwear the Tyrant ſhall not force thee from us;
Why ſhou'dſt thou fear his Power? the Monſter dares not,
Howe'er he hop'd with Threats to move thy Soul,
Attempt to violate a free-born Virgin.
[2] But ſay, Virginia, did not Appius try
Each ſofter Method to ſeduce thy Virtue,
E'er his ſtern Fury roſe to threaten Force?
VIRGINIA.
O Sir! with all the Blandiſhments of Vice
He firſt eſſay'd my Youth. With offer'd Power,
And Vows of tendereſt Paſſion, he proteſted,
That did not his own Law forbid his Purpoſe,
He wou'd divorce the Partner of his Bed,
And place me there.
NUMITORIUS.
His Law! The Gods are juſt,
And on himſelf retort his Inſolence;
Yes, let him ſigh for a Plebeian Maid,
And ſigh in vain: by Heaven 'tis righteous Vengeance.
But does he talk of Laws? He, who has broke
Through every ſacred Bond? Who, on Pretence,
Of framing Laws, has bid them all Defiance,
And owns no Obligation but his Will?
[3] Is this our Legiſlator? But proceed:
Tell me, Virginia, did he dare to offer
Terms of Diſgrace and Shame?
VIRGINIA.
O Numitorius!
Spare my Confuſion—
NUMITORIUS.
I truſt, Virginia, you receiv'd his Love
With all the Pride of Virtue, all the Scorn,
And ſtrong Reſentment, of a Roman Maid
Who loves her Honour and her Liberty.
VIRGINIA.
Yes, fired with generous Rage, and fierce Diſdain,
I told him, were he free, his Law repeal'd,
Himſelf the Son of Jove, I wou'd reject
His lawful Vows, and think the brave Icilius
Superior to the Tyrant of his Country.
NUMITORIUS.
How bore he this?
VIRGINIA.
[4]
He ſtood a Moment ſpeechleſs,
Then, his Eyes flaming, wild with mad Revenge,
And diſappointed Love, 'Tis well, he cry'd,
My Power may reach you yet, remember, Maid,
You have not now your Tribunes to protect you;
Appius is Lord of Rome: then ſudden turn'd,
And left me dead with Terror, for too well
I know his Power, and tremble for my Honor.
NUMITORIUS.
Why was this baſe Attempt at firſt conceal'd?
VIRGINIA.
Alas! I fear'd Icilius' Warmth of Temper;
I knew his Love, and his impatient Spirit,
And hop'd my Scorn wou'd cure the Tyrant's Paſſion.
NUMITORIUS.
Fear not, Virginia, ſoon our Roman Legions
Shall drive theſe raſh Invaderst rembling back;
[5] And crown'd with Laurel, midſt his Fellow Soldiers,
Thy Father ſhall return to join thy Hand
With young Icilius, and ſecure thy Virtue:
The holy Marriage Bed the wildeſt Nations,
E'en ſavage Gauls, regard with ſacred Awe.
But I too long detain thee, 'tis the Hour
In which thy gentle Friend, the fair Icilia,
Expects thy Preſence.—Ha! Trebonius here!

SCENE II.

NUMITORIUS, TREBONIUS.
NUMITORIUS.
WELCOME, my dear Trebonius, from the Camp:
How fares my valiant Brother?
TREBONIUS.
[6]
Well, my Friend;
If Romans can be well when Slaves to Tyrants.
NUMITORIUS.
What brings you here?
TREBONIUS.
Obedience to my Leader,
And Shame to ſee the Roman Legions fly:
Cornelius ſends by me for freſh Supplies
To ſtop the conquering Equan Troops: Tomorrow
May bring them to theſe Walls. O, Numitorius!
Theſe Eyes have ſeen the braveſt Sons of Rome
Driven to their very Camp, like fearful Fawns,
By theſe oft beaten Equi, by the Foes
They once diſdain'd, nor cou'd my Soul condemn them:
Why ſhou'd they ſpend their deareſt Blood for Appius?
NUMITORIUS.
[7]
For him indeed, for to his tow'ring Genius
His Brother Tyrants bend; they wait his Nod,
And take the Word from him; at his Command
They ſteep their impious Hands in Blood, or load
With ſlaviſh Chains their freeborn Countrymen.
TREBONIUS.
Each Hour brings freſh Diſgrace; our conquering Army,
Which pour'd the Tide of Victory along,
And like a Torrent overflow'd the Nations,
Now ebbs, retiring, at the ſlighteſt Breath
Of Oppoſition.
NUMITORIUS.
Gods! ſhall Romans fly,
And from the timorous Equi? Shall the Stag,
The trembling Stag, purſue the lordly Lyon?
TREBONIUS.
[8]
O, Rome! imperial Rome! How art thou fallen!
Behold! the Roman Eagle, which e'erwhile
Soar'd with ſtrong Pinion o'er the wondring World,
Now ſpiritleſs, unnerv'd, with drooping Wing
Sits languid, all its daring Flights forgot,
Cruſh'd by th'oppreſſive Hand of Tyranny!
NUMITORIUS.
Yes, we are fallen indeed! O, my Trebonius!
I bluſh to tell thee, but this Monſter Appius
With brutal Love has dar'd t'inſult Virginia,
Pledg'd as ſhe is to brave Icilius.—
TREBONIUS.
Gods!
Even Sextus ſtole in ſecret to Lucretia,
Nor thus avow'd his Baſeneſs!

SCENE III.

[9]
NUMITORIUS, TREBONIUS, a Slave.
SLAVE.
NUMITORIUS,
This Moment as Virginia paſt the Forum,
To viſit fair Icilia, ſhe was ſeiz'd
By Claudius, Appius' moſt abandon'd Freedman,
Who call'd her Slave, and rudely dragg'd her off
To the Tribunal of his Lord. I haſted
To tell you this, nor know I more that paſt.
NUMITORIUS.
To his Tribunal? Gods! what can it mean?
The Tyrant cannot dare—O, Soldier! Friend!
Wilt thou aſſiſt us? Think of brave Virginius;
Is't fit his Daughter?—But I know thy Virtue.
TREBONIUS.
No more: away: my Sword and Arm are yours.

SCENE IV.

[10]
THE FORUM, APPIUS on his Tribunal, twelve LICTORS with Rods and Axes ſtand rang'd on each Side.
VIRGINIA, ICILIUS, CLAUDIUS, Romans.
CLAUDIUS.
(kneels.)
O, gracious Appius!
To whom the Injur'd never kneel in vain,
To you I bend for Juſtice: this bright Maid,
Who long has paſt for old Virginius' Daughter,
Is Daughter of my Slave, born in my Houſe,
And thence by Fraud convey'd to Numitoria,
Who bred her as her own Virginius abſent.
To hide th' approbrious Curſe of Barrenneſs:
This in the Hour of Sickneſs was confeſs'd,
With penitential Sighs and Tears, by her
[11] Who gave her Birth; I therefore ſeiz'd upon her,
Nor will reſign her but to brave Virginius,
If he diſprove my Claim: ſince he is abſent,
From you, the Friend of Juſtice, I demand,
That ſhe remain with me till his Return.
APPIUS.
'Tis juſt, nor can I ſtop the Courſe of Law:
Lictors, make Way, and let the legal Claimant
Lead off th' unhappy Virgin. See Virginius
Be ſummon'd home to plead his doubtful Right:
Be that thy Care, Frontinus.
(To a Lictor.)
ICILIUS.
Impious Villain!
And doſt thou think I tamely will reſign her?
No, thro' my Boſom you muſt cut your Way
E'er you can ſeize this dear, this virtuous Maid.
Stand off, ye Slaves.
APPIUS.
Ha! doſt thou thwart my Will?
Lictors, advance and ſeize the lawleſs Traitor.
(To the Lictors.)
ICILIUS.
[12]
Yes, Lictors, yes; prepare your Rods and Axes,
Scourge and behead the braveſt Sons of Rome:
Our fond Credulity which rais'd that Tyrant
Deſerves it, but let Chaſtity be ſafe.
O Romans! by the ſacred Name of Father,
By the dear Pleaſures of domeſtick Love,
And by the ſpotleſs Honour of your Children,
Preſerve Virginius' Daughter from Pollution.
APPIUS.
Traitor, ſeditious Villain! well I know thee:
'Tis not Virginia's Cauſe awakes thy Rage,
The tribunician Spirit breathes within thee;
But all thy Arts are vain; a Guard attends
To quell the mutinous: by Heaven that Roman
Who ſtops the Courſe of Juſtice, dies this Moment.

SCENE V.

[13]
APPIUS, VIRGINIA, ICILIUS, CLAUDIUS, NUMITORIUS, TREBONIUS, Romans.
NUMITORIUS.
WHERE is the Wretch who with unhallow'd Tongue
Demands a freeborn Virgin for his Slave.
Sprung from the braveſt Blood our City holds,
The Numitorii and Virginii join'd?
CLAUDIUS.
Virginia is my Slave; by Juſtice mine;
Nor will I quit Poſſeſſion, till Virginius
Appears, to prove his doubtful Right.
NUMITORIUS.
Fabatus.
(whiſpers a Roman, who goes out.)
Thy Slave, thou Wretch? O Romans, ſee her Tears;
[14] Thoſe ſpeaking Drops, with ſtrongeſt Eloquence,
Reproach your ſtrange Supineneſs: can it be?
Heavens! can it be, the Daughter of Virginius
Can want a Friend in Rome? Ungrateful Men!
How has Virginius fought his Country's Battles!
For you, to guard your Beds from Violation,
He ruſhes foremoſt in the bloody Field,
Whilſt you—But Tears prevent me—O Virginia!
CLAUDIUS.
Too late you plead; the Laws adjudge her mine
Till her reputed Father proves her Birth.
NUMITORIUS.
Gods! 'tis too much to bear! For Pity, Appius,
If thou haſt ought of Man within thee, hear me;
With me, as next of Kindred, truſt the Maid,
'Till this unheard of Claim is prov'd; 'twere impious
To truſt the Honor of a Roman Virgin
To that abandon'd pandar of Pollution
[15] My Brother may be here by riſing Dawn:
To morrow I engage for her Appearance.
ICILIUS.
Why doſt thou ſtoop to ſupplicate that Tyrant?
Aſſiſt me, generous Romans, to ſecure her;
I'll bear her off, or periſh.
TREBONIUS.
Brave Icilius!
O Romans! Countrymen!
ALL ROMANS.
Liberty! Virginia!
APPIUS.
Hear me, ye Romans, and thou, Numitorius,
And judge how I revere the Name of Father:
Not to that clamorous, tribunician Traitor
Do I yield ought; I ſcorn his idle threats;
Scorn him ſo much, I will not even ſecure him:
But to a fancy'd Parent's ſacred Sorrows
I yield thus far, ſend for Virginius hither,
[16] I will defer my Sentence 'till Tomorrow;
But if he then appears not, I proceed,
Nor longer will withhold th' Award of Juſtice.
Let Sureties inſtantly be given to Claudius
For her Appearance.

SCENE VI.

VIRGINIA, ICILIUS, NUMITORIUS, TREBONIUS, and Romans.
TREBONIUS.
ALL are Sureties for her.
ROMANS.
All.
NUMITORIUS.
Thanks, Romans, we may want your Aid Tomorrow;
But 'tis not needed now; this gallant Friend,
With us, will be ſufficient. Come, Virginia,
[17] Let me conduct thee hence. O, Romans! Friends!
Remember! But I will not doubt your Virtue.

SCENE VII.

[The Houſe of VIRGINIUS.]
NUMITORIUS, TREBONIUS.
NUMITORIUS.
THANKS, my Trebonius, for this generous Friendſhip.
Thus in our Moments of Diſtreſs to aid us,
And kindly join in our domeſtic Dangers,
Becomes the honeſt Roman, and the Friend.
TREBONIUS.
Is not Virginia's Cauſe, the Cauſe of Rome,
Of Liberty, and Virtue? Too, too long
Our ſtooping Necks have born the Yoke of Power,
[18] The Yoke ourſelves have fix'd, and ſhall we want
A Deed like this to fire us? Gods! ſhall Romans
Wait till Oppreſſion, Bondage, Violation,
In all their horrid Forms are loos'd upon them,
E'er they aſſert the Spirit of their Fathers,
And cruſh the Tyranny themſelves have rais'd?
NUMITORIUS.
For wiſeſt Ends we rais'd this Power, Trebonius,
To give us Laws, the Wonder of the World,
From poliſh'd Greece ſelected; but long ſince
That Purpoſe, and their truſted Power, expir'd;
Long have they ſtretch'd the iron Hand of Force
O'er our inſulted Liberties; but this,
This laſt Attempt, ſurpaſſes all Example.
TREBONIUS.
Yes, Numitorius, Tarquin's ſelf muſt yield
The Palm of daring Villainy to Appius,
And own him foremoſt in the wicked Race:
But we deſerve it; Power unlimited
Is only fit for Jove: Why did we truſt
[19] Theſe Sons of Earth with Thunder much too mighty,
For their weak Arms to wield?
NUMITORIUS.
The giddy Height
To which miſtaken Rome has rais'd them, turns
Their maddening Brains, or Appius would behold
His ſure Deſtruction in this wild Attempt.
The Gods are juſt, and tho' unſeen to Men,
They work our Good from Ill; they will, I truſt,
Confound the Tyrant in his own Devices,
And make his purpos'd Crime his Puniſhment.
TREBONIUS.
They will; great Jove beholds him, and will lance
The Bolt of Vengeance at his guilty Head.
NUMITORIUS.
I yet have Hope, Trebonius; had he dar'd
To uſe his lawleſs Power, he ne'er had forg'd
This poor Device, this Tale of fancy'd Slavery,
This crude unlikely Fable of her Birth:
[20] Virginius' Preſence yet will ſave his Child:
By Morning's earlieſt Dawn he will be here;
In him our Hopes are center'd; he alone
Can ſtem the Torrent of this Tyrant's Paſſion,
Who trembles at his Intereſt in the Camp.
TREBONIUS.
His coward Fears, I hope, are ominous:
By brave, plebeian, honeſt Deeds, Virginius
Has gain'd the Soldiers' Love; nor will they ſee,
Howe'er their Spirits droop, a Vet'ran wrong'd:
I left them ripe for every noble Purpoſe;
Long theſe Decemvirs have been hateful to them;
To this alone is owing our Defeats;
They rather chuſe to fall beneath the Sword
Than fight for Tyranny.
NUMITORIUS.
O, my Trebonius!
My ſwelling Boſom heaves with Rage indignant
To ſee the freeborn Sons of mighty Rome,
Sunk, by their Folly, low as baſeſt Slaves.
TREBONIUS.
[21]
Periſh the Tyrants! Let us hurl this Appius
Down from his black Tribunal, and again
Declare for Liberty: each Roman Arm
Will graſp a Sword for us.
NUMITORIUS.
Thou generous Man!
TREBONIUS.
This Deed is big with Fate: Rome's mighty Genius,
Tho' now it ſlumbers, will by this arrous'd,
Ruſh like a Whirlwind on theſe curſt Decemvirs,
And bear down all before it. I will go,
And try to wake the godlike Soul of Freedom
In the deluded People. Thou, Tomorrow,
With brave Virginius, meet me at the Temple
Of righteous Themis, ſoon as he arrives.

SCENE VIII.

[22]
VIRGINIA, ICILIA.
VIRGINIA.
WELCOME, Icilia, thou moſt lov'd of Friends!
Let us embrace whilſt yet I am a Roman;
Tomorrow's fatal Dawn may give me up
The Slave of Claudius; when we meet again,
It will perhaps be Infamy to claſp me.
ICILIA.
O, my Virginia!—But I cannot ſpeak—
Reſentment, Rage, and Indignation, riſe,
And ſtop my Utterance.—Art thou not a Roman?
By awful Heaven, when Rome was free and glorious,
E'er theſe Decemvirs fix'd their lawleſs Yoke,
Thy Virtue might have been her nobleſt Boaſt.
VIRGINIA.
[23]
Alas! Icilia! we have once been happy,
But ſhall no more: canſt thou forget the Hours
Of Peace and Innocence we paſt together?
ICILIA.
O, no, Virginia; all the dear Delights
Of growing Friendſhip ruſh on my Remembrance:
When dawning Reaſon firſt began to ſhoot,
Each early Hope confect this pleaſing End:
My Boſom panted for a Counterpart,
Some Fellow Mind, to ſoften every Pang,
And double Joy by ſweet Participation:
Amongſt the ſoft Companions of my Youth
I ſought a Friend: Virginia, dear Virginia,
Poſſeſs'd alone, of all our Roman Maids,
A Soul ſuſceptive of the ſocial Glow:
Dull was each Sport, each Paſtime loſt its Taſte,
If e'er I miſt Virginia from the Train,
The gentle Train, that ſhar'd our harmleſs Joys.
VIRGINIA.
[24]
Yes, our firſt Days were happy: ſmiling Youth
Came on attended by ſurrounding Pleaſures:
But Joy to me has been a Prodigal,
Who with too laviſh Hand diſpenc'd her Bounties,
And left my riper Days a Prey to Sorrow.
ICILIA.
Caſt back thy Thoughts a Moment, my Virginia,
To thoſe calm Joys which bleſt our heedleſs Youth:
How have we ſat beneath embow'ring Shades,
Whilſt the clear Stream in Silence glided by,
And loſt in ſweet romantic Pleaſure, chid
The dancing Hours that fled too faſt away!
All then was Peace and Harmony.
VIRGINIA.
No more:
Forbear to wake theſe tender Images:
Remembrance pains me; I muſt now forget
All vaniſh'd Happineſs, and fill my Soul
[25] With Horrors equal to my dreadful Fate:
I know the Tyrant's Power, I know his Paſſion,
And am reſolv'd.—
ICILIA.
What meanſt thou?
VIRGINIA.
To be free;
To die, Icilia: thinkſt thou I wou'd live
A Prey to Infamy, the Slave of Claudius?
ICILIA.
No, my Virginia, nor will Appius dare
To ſentence thee a Slave: e'en midſt his Guard
Of riotous, patrician Youth, he trembles,
And fears the Soldiers Vengeance: well he knows
The Rank Virginius holds in their Affections.
VIRGINIA.
Alas! Icilia! hadſt thou ſeen his Looks,
The Looks of mingled Paſſion and Revenge,
With which his fiery Eyes even now ſurvey'd me,
[26] Thou wou'dſt have trembled for me: much I fear
My only Hope of Refuge is the Grave.
ICILIA.
Where is my Brother? Cannot he protect thee?
He is the Peoples Darling, and may rouſe them
To Liberty and Vengeance.
VIRGINIA.
O, Icilia!
Thou haſt awak'd the Pang that tears my Heart;
There I am weak indeed: to die is nothing;
But O, I cannot leave my lov'd Icilius:
Our Spring of Love gay-bloom'd, and promis'd Fruit
Of chaſte connubial Bliſs; when like a Blight
This Ruffian came, and wither'd all our Hopes.
Thou deareſt of Mankind! let theſe Tears witneſs
The ſtrong, the fond Affection of my Soul.
ICILIA.
The Gods are Friends to Virtue, my Virginia;
[27] Let us, when Morn firſt paints the ruddy Skies,
Summon a Train of Roman Maids, and haſte
To great Diana's Shrine; there kneel and weep,
And ſupplicate the Goddeſs Aid to ſave thee.
VIRGINIA.
Yes, I will go. Immortal Maid, attend!
Thou Virgin Goddeſs! to the chaſte a Friend!
If e'er my Voice, amid the tuneful Choir,
In Sounds reſponſive to the breathing Lyre,
Has pleas'd thine Ear, O, take me to thy Care,
Regard my Tears, and grant my ardent Pray'r!
If I muſt die, my ſpotleſs Honor ſave,
And let me ſink unſullied to the Grave!

ACT SECOND,

[28]

SCENE I.

[The Houſe of APPIUS.]
APPIUS, CLAUDIUS.
APPIUS.
O! Claudius what a Whirlwind tears my Soul!
In what keen Tortures did I paſs the Night!
Toſs'd by Deſire, Revenge, and Indignation,
In vain my Voice invok'd the downy God;
The lenient Power regarded not my Prayer,
By fierce, contending Paſſions baniſh'd from me:
Long e'er the Dawn I left my reſtleſs Couch,
To ſeek thy healing Counſel.
CLAUDIUS.
Noble Appius,
Suſpend this Heat a while, and lend an Ear
[29] To what my faithful Spies have learnt abroad:
This Day muſt fix you Lord of Rome for ever,
Or give the Sway to tribunician Hands:
Can you with Tameneſs yield the Reins of Power
(Of Power, the nobleſt Attribute of Jove)
To proud Icilius?
APPIUS.
Curſes on the Slave!
What doſt thou mean, my Claudius?
CLAUDIUS.
Whilſt you ſit,
Supine, with folded Arms, a ſighing Lover,
Your haughty Rival gains the giddy People:
Horatius and Valerius too have join'd
The abject rebel Multitude, forgetful,
Meanly forgetful of their noble Birth.
APPIUS.
Horatius and Valerius? I remember
The Inſolence with which they croſt my Will
[30] Late in the Senate, when I call'd the Fathers
To aid me in the Levies for the War.
CLAUDIUS.
The People worſhip them; the Youths can talk,
And make Harangues on ancient Roman Virtue.
APPIUS.
On Virtue? what is Virtue, but a Name
Invented by the Wiſe to ſhackle Fools?
No, 'tis Ambition fires them, they wou'd raiſe
Themſelves upon my Ruins; 'tis for this
They court the Multitude; by Arts like theſe,
By feign'd Humility, and Shows of Virtue,
I gain'd the Power which ſoon ſhall make them tremble:
They both ſhall die this Day; Icilius too,
And Numitorius, all ſhall glut my Vengeance;
A choſen Band of noble Youths ſhall wait,
And intercept their Paſſage from the Forum.
CLAUDIUS.
[31]
If Fortune ſmiles, e'er the revolving Sun
Again ſhall gild the Capitol, I hope
To ſee you crown'd, and hail you King of Rome.
APPIUS.
O, Claudius! 'tis to that my Soul aſpires;
But 'tis not ripe; I muſt delay my Purpoſe:
Fabius commands a Camp of hardy Veterans;
'Tis true he yet implicitly obeys me,
But 'tis to ſhare my Power, and were I once
To aim at Royalty, his rous'd Ambition
Wou'd thwart my Will: I muſt ſecure him firſt;
Perhaps ſome lucky Chance may do my Work:
Wou'd but the coward Troops engage the Foe,
Some friendly Sabine Sword might reach his Heart;
If not, Petilius has my private Orders
To take him off by Poiſon.
CLAUDIUS.
[32]
Wou'd 'twere done!
But can you truſt Petilius?
APPIUS.
With my Life;
His Birth, ill-ſuited to his deſperate Fortunes,
Firſt turn'd my Eyes upon him, and I found him
Ev'n all I wiſh'd; my powerful Intereſt rais'd him
To the Decemvirate, and well he knows
His Fall with mine involv'd: but let this reſt;
A dearer Care now takes up all my Soul,
The bright Virginia—Ha! what Sound is that?
[Claudius goes to the Door, and returns.]
CLAUDIUS.
One with Diſpatches from the Camp of Fabius
Attends your ſacred Will.
APPIUS.
Conduct him in.

SCENE II.

[33]
APPIUS, CLAUDIUS, Meſſenger.
APPIUS.
WHAT from my valiant Friend, your brave Commander,
The noble Fabius?
MESSENGER.
Theſe Diſpatches, Sir,
He begs you will peruſe, and inſtant anſwer.
APPIUS.
'Tis well: attend without.
(Reads)

SCENE III.

APPIUS, CLAUDIUS.
APPIUS.
COME hither, Claudius:
Predition on their coward Souls! The Legions
Who baſely fled before the ſeeble Sabines.
[34] Have dar'd to brave their Leaders: Fabius writes
That when, at my Command, the Traitor Siccius
Was, by a Band of try'd and faithful Soldiers,
In private taken off, the rebel Troops
No longer own'd their Generals, but aſſembling
In mutinous Conſult, diſclaim'd Obedience,
And ſcarce were held from marching ſtrait to Rome.
This Tumult is ill-tim'd, and I cou'd wiſh
His Death had been defer'd; but 'tis no Matter,
My Power is fix'd, nor fear's their feeble Efforts.
CLAUDIUS.
Who is their Leader?
APPIUS.
Labeo the Centurion.
Fabius is much too mild; the bloody Axe
Muſt ſtop this headlong Torrent of Sedition;
Their Leader ſhall be ſcourg'd, and then beheaded;
The reſt by Decimation, learn their Duty.
This will not brook Delay: prepare my Tablets.
(Exeunt.)

SCENE IV.

[35]
[The Houſe of VIRGINIUS.]
NUMITORIUS, ICILIUS.
ICILIUS.
WHERE is Virginia? Let me once behold her
Whilſt yet ſhe is my own; whilſt ſhe is free,
And I without a Bluſh may own my Paſſion.
NUMITORIUS.
She ſeeks the Help of Heaven by pious Prayer,
And much I fear 'tis Heaven alone can ſave her.
ICILIUS.
Yes, Numitorius, while we loitering ſtand,
And hope for Miracles, 'tis Heaven alone
That muſt preſerve us all; but did we dare
To draw the Sword and pierce the Tyrant's Heart,
We better ſhou'd deſerve the Care of Heaven.
NUMITORIUS.
[36]
Patience, young Man!
ICILIUS.
Patience! immortal Gods!
Does it become the haughty Roman Virtue,
Fam'd for ſwift Vengeance, and of Wrongs impatient,
Calmly to ſtand, and ſee our Wives and Children
Dragg'd to Pollution by theſe homebred Tyrants?
O, Rome! Thou Queen of Nations! Shall a Son,
A private Citizen, by thee entruſted
With delegated Power, thus lord it o'er us?
Give us our Tarquins, Gods: if we muſt ſtoop,
If we muſt bend beneath the Rod of Power,
Let not an Equal fix our galling Chains.
NUMITORIUS.
You are too warm, Icilius.
ICILIUS.
How? Too warm?
[37] Is ſhe not mine? Heavens! are we not betroth'd?
O my Virginia! may I be a Slave,
Doom'd ſtill to bear the Yoke of Tyranny,
To crouch beneath the Laſh, if I not ſave thee
From this inhuman Monſter: I will go,
And find him out this Moment.
NUMITORIUS.
Stay, Icilius;
Your raſh Revenge wou'd ruin all our Hopes:
Virginius will be here upon the Inſtant,
And when he comes, Appius muſt drop a Claim
He cannot then ſupport: Virginia begs,
By me ſhe begs, you will reſtrain this Heat
'Till ſafer Times.
ICILIUS.
What doſt thou mean by Safety?
Can we be ſafe but by the Tyrant's Death?
Was it for this our Tribunes were aboliſh'd?
For this our mighty Bulwark of Defence,
The ſacred Freedom of Appeal, remov'd?
[38] O, Rome! miſguided People! But no more;
I will be calm, I will await his Sentence
With all the Tameneſs of a Slave; but mark me,
If he withdraws not this moſt impious Claim
My Sword ſhall find his Heart.
NUMITORIUS.
It will be juſt,
And Heaven will then approve your righteous
Vengeance.
ICILIUS.
Gods! 'tis too much: are then our pleaſing Hopes
Of virtuous Happineſs untimely blaſted?
The dear, the long expected Hour approach'd
To join our Hands for ever, when this Monſter
Step'd in between, and daſh'd our Expectations:
But I will ſave her; yes, my lov'd Virginia,
This Arm ſhall ſtab the Tyrant, and preſerve thee.
NUMITORIUS.
Fear not, Icilius, Piety like hers
Is Heaven's peculiar Care, nor will the People
[39] Bear with a Deed like this: perhaps this Appius
Is but an Inſtrument of Jove, to raiſe us
From our lethargic State, to arm our Hands
With all the Rage of Vengeance? and reſtore
The golden Days of Liberty and Peace.
ICILIUS.
Be all thy Hopes prophetic, Numitorius!
And ſure the Soul of Rome is loſt indeed
If we can bear with an Attempt like this:
I will not think we are ſo vilely ſunk;
It cannot be.—
NUMITORIUS.
See, where Trebonius comes!
His haſty Step, and unexpected Preſence,
(Since we agreed to meet in Themis' Temple,)
Beſpeak ſome new Event.

SCENE V.

[40]
NUMITORIUS, ICILIUS, TREBONIUS.
TREBONIUS.
WHERE is Virginius?
Is he not yet arriv'd? The Minutes call:
O! were he here, Rome might again be free,
Revenge and Fury burn in every Breaſt,
And if he comes, the lawleſs Tyrant falls.
NUMITORIUS.
He will be here, each Moment I expect him.
TREBONIUS.
Then tremble, Appius, on thy proud Tribunal:
Each Accident concurs to rouſe the People:
This Moment from Fidenae is arriv'd
A Soldier, who relates that valiant Siccius
Is murder'd by the curſt Decemvirs there;
[41] By Fabius, and the reſt, who copy Appius,
And emulate his blackeſt Deeds: the Camp
Is all in Tumult.
ICILIUS.
Then the Gods are juſt;
Revenge, and glorious Freedom are our own.
TREBONIUS.
Yes, brave Icilius, once again the Goddeſs
Shall ſpread her ſhielding Arms round happy Rome:
My Soul is all on Fire. O Liberty!
At thy dear Name, my kindling Spirit mounts,
And Hope inſpires my Breaſt: again I ſee
Rome's awful Conſuls, the deliver'd Senate,
And thy beſt Guard, the Tribunate, reſtor'd:
Again the Roman Eagle ſpreads his Wings
O'er conquer'd Lands, and the fierce Sabine ſtoops;
No more the languid Soldier drooping ſits,
But wak'd to Valour, ruſhes on the Foe,
Reſiſtleſs in his Courſe.
NUMITORIUS.
[42]
O, Jove all-juſt!
Let thy ſtrong Arm o'ertake theſe Sons of Rapine,
And level them with Earth!
TREBONIUS.
It wakes my Wonder,
That Fabius, once the faireſt Son of Fame,
Belov'd of Rome, ſhou'd join this League of Tyrants;
That he whoſe Courage oft had ſav'd his Country,
Who ſtood the foremoſt in her dear Eſteem,
Shou'd chuſe to ſink ſo low as Appius' Slave.
NUMITORIUS.
Alas! Trebonius, Valour is a Crime,
If not ally'd to Virtue; Liberty
Muſt guide the righteous Sword, or War is Murder:
Tho' Fame may follow, and the thoughtleſs People
Applaud, yet braveſt Deeds deſerve our Hate,
Deſerve our Scorn, if prompted by Ambition.
TREBONIUS.
[43]
I tho't this Fabius juſt, as well as brave,
I tho't him zealous for his Country's Good;
But Tyranny, like Virtue, ſleeping lies,
'Till wak'd by Opportunity to Action.
NUMITORIUS.
Is this the Man, who ſav'd by mighty Jove,
Eſcap'd the Slaughter of that bloody Day,
When, but himſelf, the Fabian Race expir'd?
Expir'd together, fighting for their Country,
What Time their ſingle Force oppos'd the Power,
The whole united Strength of warlike Veii?
TREBONIUS.
Look down, ye mighty Spirits, and behold
The Wretch who ſhames the noble Fabian Name,
And throws a Shade around your Blaze of Glories!
Degenerate Man! but true Nobility
Is of the Soul, nor waits on empty Titles.
ICILIUS.
[44]
Why ſtand we here, and waſte the flying Hours
In idle Contemplation? Vengeance calls;
'Tis now the Time for Action. O, Trebonius!
The coming Hour muſt give us up for ever
The Slaves of Appius, or ſecure our Freedom.
(Exeunt.)

SCENE VI.

[A Garden.]
APPIUS, CLAUDIUS.
APPIUS.
O, Claudius! 'tis in vain to hope for Eaſe,
'Till full Poſſeſſion cures this fatal Fondneſs:
Each Thought is full of this diſdainful Maid,
Nor can Ambition's active Fire expel her:
Ev'n midſt my Schemes of meditated Power,
Her bright Idea takes up half my Soul,
And mingles with my golden Dreams of Empire.
CLAUDIUS.
[45]
Why will you thus diſturb your Soul with Cares,
So needleſs and ſo vain? She muſt be yours;
Sedition's brawling Voice, which yeſterday
Dar'd to oppoſe your Will, ſhall ſink in Silence,
And blooming Beauty crown your warm Deſires.
APPIUS.
Why did my coward Soul conſent to yield her?
Virginius may return.
CLAUDIUS.
Think not of him,
I truſt he is e'er this ſecur'd in Chains:
My Bondman, Tyro, who convey'd your Orders,
Is faithful, diligent; and more to urge
His ſwift Diſpatch, I promis'd Liberty
Shou'd crown his honeſt Duty, if ſucceſsful.
APPIUS.
'Tis well: I thank thy Care. Was it not hard
To have her torn from my fierce riſing Wiſhes,
[46] Juſt when bright Hope had given the Rein to Paſſion,
And Fancy painted all the melting Joys
In her dear, yielding Arms? O, potent Venus!
Give me to feaſt on her luxurious Sweetneſs,
To preſs her panting Beauties to my Breaſt,
And to thy genial Power ſhall riſe a Temple
In all the proud Magnificence of Greece!
CLAUDIUS.
Truſt me, th' approaching Hour ſhall ſee her yours:
This ſpecious Tale my fervent Zeal inſpir'd,
Shall give the peeviſh Virgin to your Arms,
Spite of Icilius, or the murmuring People.
APPIUS.
O, Claudius! with what Dignity ſhe moves!
What Magic dwells in that enchanting Form?
The Pride of Birth, the beauteous Pomp of Power,
Look vile before her; not the roſy Dawn,
[47] Nor vernal Flowers, can boaſt a Bloom, like hers:
My haughty Soul, unus'd to bend, yet ſtoops
To ſuch amazing Beauty, nor remembers
The low Plebeian Stock from whence ſhe ſprung,
I ſwear, that did not conſcious Shame forbid
I wou'd repeal my Law, divorce Sempronia,
And wed this Virgin.
CLAUDIUS.
Gods! what do I hear?
Cou'd Appius then, the great, the highborn Appius,
Deſcended from a Line of matchleſs Heroes,
Who reigns in Rome with more deſpotic Sway
Than e'er the royal Tarquins dar'd aſſert,
Without a Bluſh, call baſe Virginius Father?
Beſides, you had forgot Icilius' Claim,
The glorious Rival of your Love.
APPIUS.
The Slave!
I had forgot indeed, and thou doſt well
[48] To wake my keen Diſdain; my furious Paſſion
Had hurry'd me to what I bluſh to think of,
To Marriage with this Maid, but for thy Counſel.
CLAUDIUS.
To Marriage with her? Yes, you do forget,
Or Love diſturbs your Reaſon: has ſhe not
To you avow'd her Paſſion for Icilius?
Can you ſo ſoon forget her haughty Anſwer?
Is ſhe not his? To him betroth'd long ſince,
By ſtricteſt Vows, and ſtronger Love, engag'd?
To him, to the Plebeian Slave, ſhe deſtines
Thoſe matchleſs Charms, which, like the Grecian Helens,
Might ſet the Monarchs of the World in Arms.
For Shame, ſhake off this mean, this abject Love,
And be yourſelf: ſhall Appius poorly ſigh,
And waſte th' important Hours of doubtful Empire
In whining, Boyiſh Wiſhes for a Woman,
And one within his Power?
APPIUS.
[49]
Forgive my Weakneſs:
Her Scorn diſtracts my Soul, but I deſerve it:
Why ſhou'd I aſk for what I can command?
CLAUDIUS.
Why aſk indeed? Remember Romulus:
To what is Rome indebted for it's Greatneſs?
The Sabine Rape.—
APPIUS.
Thou doſt inſtruct me well:
I'll ſeize her, ſnatch her from the Slave ſhe doats on,
And force the Joys her fooliſh Heart denies me:
So, darting ſwift, th'imperial Bird of Jove
In his ſtrong Talons graſps the trembling Dove;
In vain ſhe wou'd reſiſt, her feeble Cry
He hears regardleſs, and with conſcious Joy,
He bears the ſtruggling, panting, Prize, on high.

ACT THIRD.

[50]

SCENE I.

[The Houſe of VIRGINIUS.]
VIRGINIUS.
WHAT can this mean? In every Face I meet
Sits pale Deſpair: the People gaz'd upon me
With Looks, or I miſtake, of Grief and Horror;
Still as I paſt, each Eye was fix'd on me:
Dread Silence reigns around; o'er all my Houſe
No Sound is heard; my Slaves, who us'd to fly
With duteous Joy to welcome my Return,
Avoid me now. My Child too! where is ſhe?
Sure ſhe is well: my Brother's Meſſenger
Charg'd me to haſte to Rome; that Buſineſs call'd me
[51] Of more Import than Life, and that a Moment
Might wreck my Peace for ever. O, Virginia!
Thou art my neareſt Care! But ſee! my Brother!
He will unfold this Riddle.

SCENE II.

VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS.
NUMITORIUS.
MY Virginius!
You come in happy Time to ſave us all.
VIRGINIUS.
How fares Virginia?
NUMITORIUS.
Well, but yet, my Brother.—
VIRGINIUS.
Why doſt thou pauſe? Let me but know the worſt,
[52] And I will try to bear it like a Roman:
The Gods can witneſs, if my Child is ſafe,
All other Griefs are Trifles.
NUMITORIUS.
O, Virginius!
She yet is ſafe, but a few poſting Hours
May give her up to Shame.
VIRGINIUS.
Ha! what? to Shame?
By all the Gods of Vengeance, tho' I love her
Dearer than Life, if ſhe has dar'd to ſully
The Honour of her Family, this Arm
Shall cut her off, and ſend her to the Grave.
Icilius wou'd not ſure.—
NUMITORIUS.
O, no! my Brother,
Icilius is a Roman, and a brave one,
His honeſt Heart diſdains a Thought of Baſeneſs;
But the fell Tyrant, Appius.—
VIRGINIUS.
[53]
Appius! ſhe cannot ſure be ſo degenerate
As to prefer the Tyrant of her Country
To brave Icilius: but my Sword ſhall find her.
NUMITORIUS.
You ſtill miſtake me; ſtill is your Virginia
The Boaſt of Roman Maids, her Sex's Pride.
A Moment's Patience, and I will unfold
A Tale ſhall rouſe each Drop of Roman Blood,
And ſet you in a Flame: know then, Virginius,
The fierce Decemvir has with Eyes of Love
Beheld your beauteous Daughter, and ſince all
His Arts of Vice have fail'd to move her Virtue,
Has urg'd his baſe, abandon'd Freedman, Claudius,
To claim her for his Slave.
VIRGINIUS.
His Slave? What mean you?
Am I not then a Roman?
NUMITORIUS.
[54]
He pretends
The virtuous Numitoria bought this Maid,
Whilſt yet an Infant, of a female Slave
In Claudius' Family: with ſlow Reluctance,
Aw'd by the murmuring People, he conſented
That till this Morn' his Sentence ſhou'd be ſtay'd;
Even on the Inſtant I diſpatch'd Fabatus
To bring you from the Camp, but leſt your Rage
Shou'd force the Story from you, I enjoin'd him,
Not to relate the Cauſe; for much I fear'd
His Brother Tyrants might detain you there,
And all our Hopes are now in your Appearance.
VIRGINIUS.
Avenging Jove!
Let thy red Lightening blaſt the ſervile Arm
That lifts a Sword for Appius! Let them come,
The Foes of Rome; I ſhall with Joy behold them:
[55] What can they more, than drag our freeborn Virgins,
To Bonds and Violation? See this Breaſt,
Scarr'd o'er with honeſt Wounds in Rome's Defence,
And think of my Reward! my Age's Darling,
The lovely Image of my Numitoria,
Forc'd from my Arms to ſate the brutal Rage
Of a looſe Tyrant's Paſſion; but he dares not,
He dares not urge ſo far the Roman Spirit,
That waits but for a Deed like this, to riſe
In all the dreadful Majeſty of Vengeance,
And cruſh him at a Blow.
NUMITORIUS.
There lies my Hope,
He fears the Soldiery, and well he knows
How much thou art belov'd.
VIRGINIUS.
O, Numitorius!
Is it for this, the hardy Soldier meets
[56] The Summer's Heat, and Winter's piercing Cold?
Is it for this, he ſleeps in open Air,
Nor fears the fiery Bolts of angry Jove?
That whilſt his ſtubborn Toils preſerve his Country;
Luxurious Slaves, by him from Danger guarded,
Shall poiſon all his dear, domeſtic Peace,
The Price and beſt Reward of fighting Fields,
And drag his Children to Pollution? Gods!
Pour down your keeneſt Vengeance on my Head,
If e'er I draw a Sword for theſe Decemvirs!
NUMITORIUS.
No, my Virginius, for the Time approaches
Which may employ your Sword to better Purpoſe:
The Dawn of Freedom breaks once more on Rome;
This baſe Attempt, has rous'd the languid People,
Ev'n now they call aloud for Liberty,
And urge the Reſtoration of their Tribunes.
VIRGINIUS.
[57]
Why do we loiter then, let us prevent
His lawleſs Sentence, and attack him now.
NUMITORIUS.
The enterprize is juſt, but full of Danger,
He now is guarded by a well arm'd Train
Of raſh Patrician Youth, nor are the People
Prepar'd for ſudden Action: let him paſs
His wild Decree; I truſt he will acquit her,
O'er-aw'd by you; but ſhou'd I judge amiſs,
Both Gods and Men will then aſſiſt your Vengeance.
VIRGINIUS.
Your Counſel ſhall prevail; but ſhou'd he doom
My deareſt Child a Slave, I will preſerve her
Ev'n at my Life's Expence: Appius or I
Muſt ſee the Sun no more: but ſay, my Brother,
Are all the Senate aw'd by this proud Tyrant;
Or do they meanly join in his Oppreſſions,
And ſhare the Spoils of their unhappy Country?
[58] Two, and two only, of Patrician Rank,
Eſpouſe the glorious Cauſe of Liberty,
Foes to all Intereſts but their bleeding Country's;
The reſt, gain'd o'er by Appius, aid his Rapines,
Or in the Country, ſeek to ſhun his Power.
His noble Uncle, Publius Claudius, long
Eſſay'd, to bend his haughty Soul to Virtue;
But finding all his Counſels vain, retir'd,
And at Regillum ſhun's the killing Sight
Of Rome enſlav'd, and the ſevere Reflection
That from the Claudian Houſe her Tyrant ſprung.
VIRGINIUS.
And who, my Numitorius, are the Pair,
The noble Pair, that join the Cauſe of Honour?
NUMITORIUS.
Valerius and Horatius.
VIRGINIUS.
Gen'rous Youths!
[59] Their very Names inſpire me: tremble, Appius,
Their Sires expel'd the Tarquins.
NUMITORIUS.
Yes, Virginius;
And theſe brave Youths inherit all the Virtues,
The daring Souls of their renown'd Forefathers.
Vain the patrician Name if noble Deeds
Speak not the Parent Stock: by godlike Virtue
Their Fathers gain'd the Power which theſe Decemvirs
Abuſe to vileſt Purpoſes.
VIRGINIUS.
Ye Gods!
Are theſe the Men that arrogate all Honours,
And ſcorn Alliance with us? But 'tis well,
Still let them wed in their own haughty Rank,
Nor ſtain the purer Blood of our Plebeians.
NUMITORIUS.
And dare they think, our bright Plebeian Virgins
Are only born to glut their baſer Paſſions?
VIRGINIUS.
[60]
No more; I wou'd repreſs this riſing Rage,
'Till fair Occaſion calls my Sword to Action.
Where is Virginia? She was wont to meet me
With all the Haſte of filial Piety;
Then why appears ſhe not?
NUMITORIUS.
This very Moment,
Attended by a Train of Roman Virgins,
She ſeeks the ſpotleſs Shrine of chaſte Diana.
VIRGINIUS.
'Tis well: may Heaven reward their pious Prayer.
O, Numitorius! But I will not doubt;
The Gods are juſt, and muſt be Foes to Tyrants.
(Exeunt.)

SCENE III.

[61]
[A Garden.]
APPIUS.
HOW ſlow the Minutes paſs! my panting Soul
Is ſick with Expectation and Deſire:
Wou'd Claudius were return'd! I'll to the Forum,
Aſcend the Judgment Seat, pronounce her Sentence;
Then bear her off, and loſe myſelf in Bliſs:
And ſee! he comes.

SCENE IV.

[62]
APPIUS, CLAUDIUS.
CLAUDIUS.
O, Appius! all is ruin'd:
Virginius is return'd.
APPIUS.
Return'd? Thou Traitor!
Did'ſt thou not tell me Tyro's ſwift Diſpatch
Wou'd ſtop him? But ye all are leagu'd againſt me:
Where is the tardy Slave? The Croſs ſhall teach him
What 'tis to play with Paſſions fierce as mine.
CLAUDIUS.
Tyro is not return'd, nor is he guilty:
The wily Numitorius, from the Forum,
Ev'n in the Moment when th' important Cauſe
[63] Fix'd your Attention, unobſerv'd, diſpatch'd
A Meſſenger to Algidum.
APPIUS.
'Tis well:
By Heaven their forfeit Heads ſhall pay this Boldneſs;
I'll ſeize this beauteous Virgin, tho' I raiſe
A Flame, to lay imperial Rome in Aſhes,
And even conſume myſelf.
CLAUDIUS.
Were it not wiſer,
To let the furious Tide exhauſt it's Strength,
E'er you oppos'd it's Rage? The People gather
Around Icilius, and have ſworn to aid him:
Virginius, Name has rais'd their drooping Courage;
They talk of Tribunes, threaten to reſtore
The Freedom of Appeal, to bring the Armies
Up to the Walls of Rome; and call for Vengeance
[64] On Siccius' Murderers; your ſacred Life
Will not be ſafe, if you approach the Forum:
Defer the Cauſe, you know the giddy Croud:
Tomorrow they may think your Sentence juſt;
At leaſt this headlong Heat of Mutiny,
Will cool if you oppoſe it not.
APPIUS.
O, Claudius!
I know not what to fix on: my Deſires
Are now at ſuch a Height, as threaten Madneſs
If not indulg'd; they liſten not to Reaſon;
And yet thy Words ſink deep into my Soul:
Where are my brave Patricians?
CLAUDIUS.
They attend
Your ſacred Pleaſure in the Campus Martius,
Beneath their peaceful Robes all clad in Arms:
This Moment haſte, conſult the noble Youths;
Fond Love obſtructs your Sight, and hides from View
[65] The threatening Forms of Danger which ſurround you.
APPIUS.
Gods! what a Guſt of Paſſion ſhakes my Frame!
Love, Empire, all that can enflame the Soul,
Now fire my Breaſt. O, Mars! armipotent!
By the fierce Joys the Cyprian Queen beſtows,
By laurel'd Conqueſt, and the grateful Horrors
Of ſtern, relentleſs War, aſſiſt thy Votary!
(Exeunt.)

SCENE V.

[The Street.]
VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS.
NUMITORIUS.
THE Hour of Vengeance is arriv'd, my Brother;
Theſe thoughtleſs Tyrants will deſtroy themſelves;
[66] They have thrown off the very Maſk of Virtue,
And given a Looſe to every impious Paſſion.
VIRGINIUS.
I mourn the valiant Siccius, but this Murder
May ſave my Child: that Camp was all I fear'd,
The Camp of Fabius; for at Algidum
Virginius' Wrongs will not be unreveng'd.
NUMITORIUS.
This monſtrous Cruelty ſecures them both,
And every Sword will now be drawn for Freedom.
But ſee! the brave Icilius comes to claſp thee.

SCENE VI.

VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS, ICILIUS.
ICILIUS.
VIRGINIUS here! Then Vengeance is our own.
VIRGINIUS.
And is it thus we meet again, Icilius?
[67] When laſt we parted, 'twas with other Sounds
I hop'd to greet thee; with the Voice of Joy,
Of Peace, and happy Love: this very Hour,
The Hour of my Return to Rome, I deſtin'd,
Shou'd join thee to my lovely Child.—
ICILIUS.
My Father,
Your Preſence ſaves Virginia; Life is ours,
And generous Liberty: the People, fir'd
With great Revenge for noble Siccius' Death,
And Pity for Virginia, ſwear to die
In our Defence. What Hope from Algidum?
How ſtand the Soldiers?
VIRGINIUS.
Ready for Revolt,
But aw'd beneath theſe curſt Decemvir's Power:
A Breath wou'd wake them; Diſcontentment walks
Thro' every Rank, and my Appearance there
Wou'd raiſe a Mutiny.
[68] Then all is well,
And the big Ruin burſts on Appius' Head.
NUMITORIUS.
Are all our Friends aſſembled?
ICILIUS.
All are ready
When we are ſummon'd to this curſt Tribunal:
I'm told the Tyrant wavers, Fear has ſeiz'd him,
He haſtes not to the Forum, but amidſt
His lawleſs Counſellors, wears out the Hours,
And doubts if he ſhall judge, or drop the Cauſe.
NUMITORIUS.
Thanks to the gracious Gods!
ICILIUS.
O, Numitorius!
Prophetic Fury fires my ſwelling Breaſt:
I ſee the Goddeſs Liberty, attended
By all her Train of Joys! Domeſtic Peace,
[69] Connubial Love, and every home felt Bliſs,
Around her throng, whilſt Tyranny, appal'd,
Shrinks at her awful Preſence!
VIRGINIUS.
Glorious Youth!
Thy Words arrouſe my Soul, and Hope ſucceeds
The pallid Fear that chill'd me: I ſhall live
To ſee Virginia happy in thy Arms;
To ſee thee ſtand, the Bulwark of thy Country,
Adorn'd with tribunician Power, and watchful
For Liberty and Rome.
NUMITORIUS
Yes, brave Icilius,
We ſhall again be free; theſe ſtrong Forebodings
The Gods ne'er give in vain: we yet ſhall ſee
Sweet Peace at home, and Victory abroad.
But ſhou'd the Tyrant yet relent, Virginius?
VIRGINIUS.
As well thou may'ſt expect the hungry Lion
To quit his trembling Prey: but grant he ſhou'd,
[70] There is a nobler Cauſe than private Wrongs,
The Cauſe of Rome, nor will I ſheath my Sword,
'Till theſe Decemvirs fall; ſhame on the Wretch,
Unworthy of the glorious Name of Roman,
Who ſafe himſelf, can calmly ſit at Eaſe,
The tame Spectator of his Country's Ruin:
Dear as I love my Child, I ſwear her Safety
Is but the ſecond Paſſion of my Soul.
ICILIUS.
Thou genuine Son of Rome! thou greater Brutus!
VIRGINIUS.
Had Brutus meanly ſtop'd at private Bliſs,
The Tarquins yet had tyrannis'd in Rome;
Ally'd by Birth he might have ſhar'd the Spoils
Of his unhappy Country, but he ſcorn'd
To be the firſt of Slaves, and nobly quell'd
Each ſelfiſh Paſſion for the Public Good:
Father of Rome, he led her on to Safety,
Tho' thro' his Children's Blood, for well he knew
Freedom or they muſt periſh. Ev'n the Gods
[71] Behold with Admiration ſuch firm Virtue,
And glory in their own immortal Work.
ICILIUS.
Thou godlike Man! with Wonder I behold thee,
And boaſt with Pride the Title of thy Son:
Were not Virginia fair as ſmiling Spring,
Did not the Bloom of op'ning Flowers adorn her,
Yet for thy ſake, to be ally'd to thee,
The braveſt Sons of Rome had ſought her Bed.
VIRGINIUS.
Thou doſt deſerve her, were ſhe fair as Nature,
Freſh from the forming Hands of mighty Jove:
O may I live to ſee a ſmiling Race,
Sprung from this Union, crown your nuptial Joys!
To ſee them riſe beneath the Shade of Freedom,
And copy all thy Virtues! May they dare
All Dangers for their Country, and when Rome
Demands their Lives, with virtuous Pleaſure bleed!
ICILIUS.
[72]
The coming Hour is big with great Events;
Already Appius totters, and your Arm
Is only wanting to compleat his Fall:
The God who rules the Thunder's Rage, is with us;
He wills, that all who nobly dare, be free,
And gives the brave their well-earn'd Liberty.

ACT FOURTH.

[73]

SCENE I.

Scene the Inſide of the TEMPLE of DIANA; at the upper End an ALTAR and STATUE of the GODDESS, on the Side Scene the Stories of NIOBE and ACTEON painted.
VIRGINIA, ICILIA, Prieſteſs, Train of Virgins.
[The Prieſteſs ſtands at the Altar whilſt this Hymn is perform'd to ſolemn Muſick.]
HYMN to DIANA.
Firſt VIRGIN.
THOU beauteous Goddeſs of the Grove,
From Jove and fair Latona ſprung!
Bright Offspring of the Thunderer's Love!
O, be thy Name for ever ſung!
[74] Ye Virgin Train! your tuneful Voices raiſe,
To ſing the chaſte Diana's deathleſs Praiſe.
Chorus of VIRGINS.
Hail! Diana! beauteous Maid!
Let thy Praiſe to Heaven aſcend!
Chaſtity's immortal Friend!
O, be preſent to our Aid!
Second VIRGIN.
Goddeſs of the rural Plain!
Thee, the Virgin pure, adores,
Thee the pregnant Dame implores
To relieve her poignant Pain,
And o'er her Infant's pliant Limbs to pour
Health, Strength, and Swiftneſs, in the natal Hour.
Chorus of VIRGINS.
Mighty Luna! Goddeſs bright!
Bring the beauteous Births to Light:
With the bleſt maternal Name
Crown the ſacred nuptial Flame.
Firſt VIRGIN.
[75]
How bleſt the choſen Train, who rove
With thee thro' Erymanthus' Grove!
Who dreadful with the pointed Dart
Transfix the tawny Lion's Heart!
Or, joyous, in the cool, tranſlucent, Wave,
Their poliſh'd Limbs at dewy Evening lave!
Chorus of VIRGINS.
Virgin Huntreſs! Queen of Night!
By thy Creſcent's trembling Light,
By thy Sports, and ſylvan Care,
Hear, O, hear! our ſpotleſs Pray'r!
Second VIRGIN.
Guardian of the woody Glades!
If thy flying Footſteps trace
Algidus' embow'ring Shades,
Or Apulia's Foreſts grace,
O, haſte, and bring, propitious to our Song,
Thy ſweet Companion, Liberty, along.
Chorus of VIRGINS.
[76]
Maid of Groves and Mountains Queen!
Leave the peaceful ſylvan Scene,
And in awful Terrors dreſt,
Pierce the Tyrant's impious Breaſt.
Both VIRGINS.
Thou Foe declar'd to guilty Flames!
To thee, behold thy Votaries bend!
O, by thy three myſterious Names,
The chaſte Virginia's Prayer attend!
Grateful, to thee, on every feſtal Day,
Shall tuneful Virgins chant the votive Lay.
Chorus of VIRGINS.
Chaſte Diana! give our Charms
Spotleſs to the Lover's Arms,
When the fated Morn ſhall riſe
Deſtin'd to our bridal Joys:
Hail Diana! beauteous Maid!
O, be preſent to our Aid!
[77][The Hymn ended, VIRGINIA kneels before the Statue whilſt the Prieſteſs puts Fire to the Altar. The Flames riſe and Thunder is heard.]
PRIESTESS.
Auſpicious Omens! Lo! the ruddy Flames
Aſcend! and from the Left the rolling Thunder
Breaks o'er the Dome! The Goddeſs guards thy Virtue.

SCENE II.

VIRGINIA, ICILIA, and the Train of VIRGINS, advance ſlowly to the Front of the Stage, the Scene ſhuts upon them.
VIRGINIA.
METHINKS my Soul is more at Eaſe Icilia,
A gentle Calm ſucceeds the Storm of Paſſion,
Smooth as the Surface of the Lake at Eve,
When every Wind ſubſides.
ICILIA.
[78]
Thanks to the Goddeſs:
Such is the ſacred Force of bleſt Religion,
Her Angel Voice can chear the drooping Soul,
And drive far off the Clouds of black Deſpair.
VIRGINIA.
Behold, the Virgins wait! Lead on, Icilia.

SCENE III.

[The Houſe of VIRGINIUS.]
VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS.
VIRGINIUS.
WHAT you relate of Appius' Tyranny
I heard, in Part, at Algidum: 'tis ſtrange
That Rome ſo long has tamely born the Yoke;
Rome! Nurſing-Mother of a Race of Heroes!
Where is the Soul that fir'd our mighty Brutus,
[79] Horatius, Mutius, and the brave Valerius?
Was it for this they drove the Tarquins hence
By Actions more than human, whilſt the Nations,
Aw'd by ſuch wondrous Virtue, gaz'd at Diſtance,
Nor dar'd to war with Gods in mortal Form?
Fought they for Appius? Did the generous Father
Doom his own Children to the Ax for him?
NUMITORIUS.
Virginia comes: unhappy, lovely, Maid!
How droop her Charms, like vernal Flow'rets, bent
Beneath the beating Storm!

SCENE IV.

[80]
VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS, VIRGINIA.
VIRGINIA.
MY Father! Then the gracious Gods have heard me.
(Runs to Virginius and kneels.)
VIRGINIUS.
Riſe, my Virginia. O, my Child! my Child!
I thought at my Return to give thee up
To brave Icilius' Arms, a virtuous Wife,
And not to yield thee to the baſe Deſires
Of thy poor Country's Tyrant: Curſes blaſt him!
Wou'd not this Face of Innocence and Beauty
Melt even a Tyger's Rage? Was it for this
I early train'd thee in the Ways of Honour,
And taught thy Soul the virtuous Pride of Rome?
VIRGINIA.
[81]
Alas! my Father—But I cannot ſpeak—
If you diſcard me, I am loſt indeed:
I am your Child; ev'n at this Hour I feel
The ſacred Force of Nature: not Icilius,
Brave as he is, and worthy of my Choice,
Is more belov'd than you.
VIRGINIUS.
Art thou a Slave?
O thou dear Pattern of thy beauteous Mother!
Ev'n in that Bluſh, the Bluſh of kindling Rage,
And honeſt Indignation, I can read
The Roman Spirit: yes, thou art my own,
Nor ſhall the wicked Arm of Power divide us.
VIRGINIA.
Look on me once again, and pity me:
By the dear Object of your youthful Tranſports,
Your much lov'd Numitoria, by the Joys
Her virtuous Fondneſs gave you, ſave my Honour,
Save me from Bonds, and brutal Violation.
VIRGINIUS.
[82]
No more, my Child; thy Fears unman my Soul.
VIRGINIA.
Why was I born to wreck my Father's Peace?
A barren Bed had bleſt him. O, Virginius!
Wou'd I had dy'd in Infancy!
VIRGINIUS.
No more;
I cannot bear this Tenderneſs, Virginia;
This ſudden Guſh of Paſſion quite o'er-whelms me,
My Heart is torn with Anguiſh. Parent Nature!
Thou art too ſtrong for Reaſon! O, my Child!
NUMITORIUS.
Thy Preſence ſoftens him too much, Virginia; Retire a while.
VIRGINIA.
Will you then calm his Anguiſh?
Tell him I am not worth this Waſte of Grief.

SCENE V.

[83]
VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS.
VIRGINIUS.
NOT worth my Grief? Said ſhe not ſo, my Brother?
O, thou conſummate Pattern of all Goodneſs
What have I left but thee to ſoften Life,
To ſoothe the painful Hours of feeble Age,
And ſtrow with Flowers my Paſſage to the Grave?
NUMITORIUS.
Shake off this Grief, Virginius; ſteel your Soul
With manly Fortitude: ſhall then a Soldier,
Bred in the hardy School of daring Virtue,
Shrink at Misfortune's Breath?
VIRGINIUS.
O! Numitorius!
What is the Shock of fighting Fields to this?
[84] To this keen Throb, this tender Pang of Nature?
NUMITORIUS.
Let us be gone; e'er this at Themis' Temple
Our Friends are all aſſembled, and expect us:
The mighty Storm is gathering o'er the Tyrants,
And ready to deſcend.
VIRGINIUS.
Give me a Moment:
I muſt have Time to recollect my Soul,
Diſpel this Grief, and be again a Roman.

SCENE VI.

VIRGINIA, ICILIUS.
VIRGINIA.
SPITE of thy Courage, and my Father's Preſence,
Spite of th' auſpicious Omens from Diana,
[85] Hope has forſook my Breaſt: a Damp unuſual
Dwells on my Soul, and tells me we muſt part,
And part for ever: thou moſt lov'd of Men!
May'ſt thou be happy when my Head is low,
For I ſhall never ſee thee more, Icilius.
ICILIUS.
Why wilt thou daſh our Hopes with theſe Forebodings,
Theſe cauſeleſs Fears? are not the People ours?
Does not the Tyrant's Self confeſs our Power
By his Delays? He haſtens not to Judgment
With the fierce Hope that warm'd him Yeſterday;
But doubtful, timid, aw'd by brave Virginius,
In Conſultation waſtes the flying Hours.
VIRGINIA.
Alas, Icilius, my foreboding Soul
Will not attend to Reaſon: a cold Dew
Hangs on my Limbs, and chills my vital Powers:
We ne'er ſhall meet again; and yet 'tis hard
When I reflect how we have lov'd, Icilius;
[86] For Years have lov'd. When I remember all
Our Days of chaſte Delight, whilſt Peace and Love
Spread their ſoft Wings around us, I blaſpheme,
And think the Gods unjuſt: can'ſt thou forget
When dawning Love firſt warm'd our youthful Breaſts,
How I have ſtrove in vain to hide my Fondneſs.
While kindling Bluſhes told my ſoft Deſires?
ICILIUS.
Curſe on the Tyrant! his inhuman Soul
Knows not the Force of Love; he never felt
The Doubts, the tender, dear Anxieties,
That wait the ſoft Affections: fierce Deſire,
Which ſeeks it's Bliſs, tho' in it's Object's Ruin,
Is all his Breaſt can know: ah! how unlike
The gentle, anxious Paſſion, which informs:
My faithful Boſom! My belov'd Virginia,
Doſt thou remember with what trembling Awe
My Lips firſt told the tender Tale of Love?
[87] So beauteous did'ſt thou ſeem, ſo fair beyond
My moſt aſpiring Wiſh, that 'till this Moment
My Flame had inward burnt, had not Icilia
With gentle Friendſhip ſooth'd my daring Paſſion,
And nouriſh'd Hope. Why doſt thou weep, my Love?
VIRGINIA.
Becauſe 'tis paſt, the Seaſon of Delight,
Becauſe the coming Hours are wing'd with Horror:
Alas! our Joys were but a gaudy Dream,
And now we wake to Miſery.
ICILIUS.
Do not weep:
We ſhall be happy yet; the ſmiling Hours
Have ſtill a thouſand Joys in Store for thee.
VIRGINIA.
Wou'd I cou'd hope; but 'tis impoſſible;
Deſpair in all it's Terrors ſinks my Soul,
Scarce will my Limbs ſupport me. O, Icilius!
[88] Why are the Gods ſo cruel? But no more;
I wou'd not damp thy Courage: my Deſpair
Perhaps is only Woman's idle Fears;
I love thee, my Icilius, with ſuch Fondneſs
As may perhaps encreaſe my Dread of parting.
ICILIUS.
Why doſt thou talk of parting? we ſhall live
To bleſs, each other yet.
VIRGINIA.
My trembling Soul
Shrinks at the Thought of Death; this ſoftener, Love,
Has made a Coward of me; all my Spirit,
My Roman Reſolution, has forſook me.
ICILIUS.
Let me once more conjure thee, my Virginia,
To ſtifle theſe ill-bodings; Liberty
This Hour extends her friendly Arm to ſave thee,
And ever-ſmiling Pleaſure waits her Train;
[89] Revolving Years of Joy and Love attend
To bleſs thee, and reward thy wondrous Virtue.
VIRGINIA.
I will believe thee, I will hope the Gods
Are Friends to Innocence, and will protect us.
ICILIUS.
Thy Words revive my Soul, for, O, Virginia!
I cannot ſee thee weep, and be a Man:
Give me thy Hand, and let me ſwear upon it,
By all the chaſte Endearments of our Love,
By the paſt Hours of Peace and Innocence,
By Juno, Guardian of the Marriage Bed,
I love thee more than Life, or virtuous Fame.
VIRGINIA.
Thou will not then forget me when theſe Eyes
Are clos'd in Death!
ICILIUS.
Forget thee, my Virginia?
What doſt thou mean?
VIRGINIA.
[90]
If I muſt die, Icilius,
Let not another Maid too ſoon poſſeſs
My Place in that dear Boſom; give a little,
A little Time to Sorrow and Virginia.
What have I ſaid? O, all ye Gods, aſſiſt him
To bear my Loſs with Fortitude! Pour down
The Balm of Comfort on his bleeding Soul,
For too, too well, he loves me!
ICILIUS.
Doſt thou think
I wou'd ſurvive thy Loſs?
VIRGINIA.
Thou wou'dſt, Icilius,
Or thou haſt never lov'd: with ſtreaming Eyes
I here adjure thee, by the Love thou bear'ſt me,
By ſacred Honour, and the Name of Roman,
If ſtrong Neceſſity compels my Death,
Live to revenge the loſt Virginia's Wrongs,
[91] To drive theſe Tyrants hence, and free thy Country:
Swear this, or by the Majeſty of Rome,
By awful Jove, and that bright Virgin Goddeſs
Before whoſe Altar I ſo lately bow'd,
I ne'er will ſee thee more.
ICILIUS.
What haſt thou ſaid?
I ſwear then—O, Virginia! cruel Maid!
Is this thy Tenderneſs?—
VIRGINIA.
My Soul is lighter: may the gracious Gods
Preſerve us for each other! But ſhou'd Fate
Divide us, and my dreadful Fears be juſt,
Revenge ſhall pleaſe my Ghoſt: thy Promiſe ſpreads
A Gleam of Pleaſure round my drooping Heart:
My Country too may owe her Peace to me,
My Death may ſhake theſe Tyrants: O, Icilius!
How poor is Life to this?
ICILIUS.
[92]
Thou virtuous Maid!
Talk not of Death, Rome ſhall again be free,
And dear Virginia live to ſhare the Bleſſing:
Yes, thou ſhalt live to bleſs my faithful Arms,
To ſoothe my Pains, to ſoften every Care,
And give new Charms to Liberty itſelf.
VIRGINIA.
Where is thy Siſter, my belov'd Icilia?
Fain wou'd I ſee her, e'er I go to meet
My dreadful Sentence: once again my Soul
Wou'd reſt its Sorrows on her friendly Boſom.
ICILIUS.
I go to ſeek her, ſhe will comfort thee;
The Voice of Friendſhip is the ſweeteſt Balm
For every Woe: the Minutes call me from thee,
Perhaps I may return with News of Joy.
(Going.)
VIRGINIA.
Icilius.
ICILIUS.
[93]
My Love.
VIRGINIA.
Come back, and let me feed my Eyes upon thee;
Let me once more behold thee e'er thou go'ſt;
Not the fond Mother views her darling Babe
With ſuch ſtrong Tenderneſs as melts my Soul
At Sight of thee, nor do ſuch Fears diſtract her
When Danger hovers o'er it, as my Breaſt
Feels at the Thought of parting.
ICILIUS.
Thou ſoft Bleſſing!
Thou deareſt Gift of Heaven! no more of parting:
Turn all thy Thoughts to Liberty, and Love:
This very Moment my fond Soul diſſolves
With Paſſion too extreme; my Eyes, unwearied,
Hang on thy lovely Form, and loſt in Pleaſure,
Melt with ſoft Languiſhment. O, let me claſp thee!
One dear Embrace before we part, Virginia!
VIRGINIA.
[94]
My Father here! let us avoid his Preſence;
His Wiſdom may condemn this ill-tim'd Softneſs.

SCENE VII.

VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS.
NUMITORIUS.
I wonder much, my Brother, Appius ſent not
To ſeize you in the Camp; 'twas what I fear'd,
Tho' from Virginia, and our Friends, I hid
The ſad unpleaſing Thought.
VIRGINIUS.
Thou doſt remind me
Of what I had forgot: I met a Slave
Haſting to Algidum on Eagle's Wings;
The very Ground beneath him ſeem'd to fly;
But all unknowing of this dire Attempt,
[95] Almoſt unmark'd he paſt me.
NUMITORIUS.
Heaven aſſiſts us;
That Meſſenger was ſurely ſent by Appius.
VIRGINIUS.
Thanks to the gracious Gods he came too late.
But ſee, my Child! Wilt thou a Moment leave us.

SCENE VIII.

VIRGINIUS, VIRGINIA.
VIRGINIUS.
I ſought thee, my Virginia; I wou'd once
Indulge a Parent's Fondneſs, e'er the Hour,
The fatal Hour, that now too near approaches.
VIRGINIA.
Why will you melt me thus?
VIRGINIUS.
[96]
My lovely Child,
When I remember thy dear dying Mother,
My Soul is loſt in Anguiſh: yet I ſee her:
She took my Hand, and preſſing it in hers,
With Looks that pierc'd my Soul, and Tears that flow'd
In ſilent Showers unbidden down her Cheek
She falt'ring juſt pronounc'd, My deareſt Lord,
Be careful of Virginia, and expir'd.
VIRGINIA.
I cannot bear this Softneſs.—
VIRGINIUS.
Weep not, my Child, I was to blame to wound
The Sweetneſs of thy Nature; but forgive me.
Yes, thou haſt all thy Mother in thy Face;
Her melting Mildneſs, her enchanting Smiles,
Chaſtis'd by Virtue: when I look upon thee
I ſee my Numitoria; ſo ſhe bloom'd
[97] When firſt ſhe gave her Beauty to my Arms:
And can I leave thee to the Tyrant's Rage?
No by the Gods of Vengeance, I will ſave thee
From his ſoul Purpoſe, tho' my Death—
VIRGINIA.
My Father,
What have you ſaid? I were a Slave indeed,
And Claudius' Claim were juſt, cou'd I ſubmit
To ſave a worthleſs Life on ſuch Conditions.
No, may the Gods, with Length of Days, and Peace,
Bleſs you, when poor Virginia is forgot!
By awful Heaven, this Dagger's friendly Point
Shall vindicate the Honour of my Race,
And ſave me from Pollution: I will ſhow
I am Virginius' Daughter.
VIRGINIUS.
Mighty Gods!
Do Slaves think thus? But I muſt hide my Tears:
(aſide.)
[98] Give me that Dagger, my lov'd Child.
VIRGINIA.
O, Sir!
Will you then rob me of my laſt Reſource?
Let not the Tyrant triumph o'er my Fame.
VIRGINIUS.
I will not, my Virginia, I will uſe it
In thine and Virtue's Cauſe: on thy Obedience
I charge thee give it.
VIRGINIA.
Take it, and remember,
(Giving the Dagger.)
Your Daughter gives her Honour to your Hands:
This was her only Pledge of Liberty.
VIRGINIUS.
I will remember; truſt thy Father's Care;
When did I e'er deny thy juſt Requeſt?
Or when, Virginia, did'ſt thou ever aſk
What ſtrict enquiring Reaſon cou'd refuſe?
Still haſt thou been the beſt, moſt duteous Child,
[99] That ever bleſt a tender Parent's Days;
My fond Heart doats upon thee. But behold,
The brave Trebonius comes! He muſt not ſee
This ſoft, unmanly, Tenderneſs, which ſhames
My Roman Fortitude, and calls me Coward.
Retire, Virginia, and exchange that Garb
Of Peace and Innocence, for ſable Weeds,
Befitting thy unhappy State.

SCENE IX.

VIRGINIUS, TREBONIUS.
TREBONIUS.
VIRGINIUS,
Your Friends expect you.
VIRGINIUS.
Pardon my Delays:
O, did'ſt thou know Virginia's Worth, Trebonius,
[100] Thou wou'd'ſt not wonder at a Father's Fondneſs:
The Patriot Soul of Clelia breathes in her;
She loves her Country with as warm a Zeal
As e'er inſpir'd the nobleſt Roman Breaſt;
Her filial Goodneſs too! Forgive theſe Tears,
How can I think of ſuch a Loſs with Patience?
TREBONIUS.
You wrong the Gods by this Deſpair, Virginius:
Let the fierce Tyrant fear; the virtuous Man,
Safe in himſelf, can brave the Frowns of Fortune:
Like the ſtrong Oak, when Clouds the Heavens deform,
He fearleſs ſtands amidſt the hoſtile Storm;
In vain the Rains deſcend, the Torrents riſe,
In vain fierce Whirlwinds rend the burſting Skies,
His firm Foundation all their Rage defies.

ACT FIFTH.

[101]

SCENE I.

[The Street.]
APPIUS, CLAUDIUS, LICTORS.
APPIUS.
NO more: my Heart diſdains thy coward Counſels:
Shall I then fear Virginius? Shall a Slave,
A vile Plebeian, awe the Soul of Appius?
By Heaven, I almoſt ſcorn myſelf for doubting;
For poorly liſtening to thy abject Fears,
And waſting precious Moments in Delay.
CLAUDIUS.
If you retreat not, certain Death attends you:
Sedition fills the Streets.
APPIUS.
[102]
Away, thou Coward!
The boldeſt of theſe Miſcreants dread my Frown:
Attempt no more to ſtop my headlong Courſe,
My boiling Blood diſdains the Voice of Reaſon;
I can no longer bear theſe eager Wiſhes:
I will poſſeſs her, tho' I ruſh on Death.
My brave Patrician Guards are gone before,
To fill the Avenues, and awe the People.
On to the Forum, Lictors. Ha! Virginius!
Let us avoid him: no, I've better thought,
Ambition yet may bend him. All retire.

SCENE II.

[103]
APPIUS, VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS.
(Claudius and Lictors at a Diſtance.)
APPIUS.
VIRGINIUS, in thy gloomy Eyes, I read,
Thy ſtern Reſentments; but thou greatly wrong'ſt me,
I but direct the ſteady Reins of Juſtice,
Nor can refuſe Redreſs: thou art abus'd;
Virginia is a Slave, and not thy Daughter.
VIRGINIUS.
Abandon'd, impious Villain! but I ſcorn
To hold Diſcourſe with thee. Away my Brother.
We'll meet thee at the Forum.
(To Appius.)
APPIUS.
I forgive thee;
The Fondneſs of a Father fills thy Heart,
[102] [...][103] [...]
[104] Tho' 'tis miſplac'd: yet hear me, brave Virginius;
Tho' well I know Virginia is a Slave,
Yet if thou give Conſent that I ſhall wed her,
Claudius, at my Requeſt, ſhall drop his Claim,
I will this very Hour divorce Sempronia,
Eſpouſe this beauteous Maid, and raiſe thee high,
Even equal with the nobleſt Roman Names.
VIRGINIUS.
Thou raiſe Virginius? Who has given thee Power
To raiſe a Roman? Am I not thy Equal?
Free as thyſelf, tho' of Plebeian Race?
By Heaven, cou'd I forgive Virginia's Wrongs,
Yet for this Inſolence, my hot Revenge
Shou'd even to Death purſue thee.
APPIUS.
Yet beware:
My Rage may riſe, and cruſh-thee.
VIRGINIUS.
[105]
By the Gods,
I almoſt pity thee. Miſtaken Man!
Who ſee'ſt not o'er thy Head th' impending Storm,
Which ſoon will burſt in Thunder. Go, diſmiſs
The Pageants of thy fancy'd Power, thoſe Lictors
Suit not a private Station.
APPIUS.
Yet Virginius,
I am thy Friend: ſo ardent is the Love
I bear Virginia, I forgive ev'n this:
I cannot live without her, give her to me,
And by imperial Jove I ſwear—
NUMITORIUS.
Wou'd Appius wed a Slave?
APPIUS.
No more of that;
She is no Slave if he accept my Offers;
Nay, more, the noble Fabius ſhall adopt her.
VIRGINIUS.
[106]
O Villain! Shameleſs Villain wer't thou great
As thy deluded Fancy repreſents thee,
I wou'd diſdain, wou'd ſpurn thy baſe Alliance,
And give Virginia to Icilius' Arms.
APPIUS.
Ha! brav'd by thee? Then hear me, thou fond Father;
E'er yonder Sun deſcends his Weſtern Road,
Thou ſhalt behold Virginia in my Arms;
Shalt hear her, ſhrieking, call in vain for Help,
Whilſt I, like Rome's great Founder, Romulus,
With manly Force compreſs her ſtruggling Beauties,
And gratify, at once, my Love and Vengeance:
Then when thy Tongue too late ſhall curſe thy Folly,
Death, in his fouleſt Shape, ſhall ſeize upon thee,
Thee, and thy Patriot Friends. Lead to the Forum.
(To the Lictors.)

SCENE III.

[107]
VIRGINIUS, NUMITORIUS.
NUMITORIUS.
ALL righteous Jove! Where ſleeps thy vengeful Thunder?
VIRGINIUS.
I cannot curſe: my Indignation choaks me.
O, Numitorius! But, no more: Away.

SCENE IV.

[The Houſe of VIRGINIUS.]
VIRGINIA, ICILIA.
VIRGINIA.
THOU art too kind, Icilia, thus to ſhare
My Hours of Sorrow: how ſhall I repay thee
For all thy wondrous Friendſhip?
ICILIA.
[108]
O, Virginia!
Let but the Gods preſerve thee from this Tyrant,
And I am bleſt; wilt thou forgive theſe Tears?
I came to comfort thee, but want myſelf
The Friend I meant to be: my Heart is breaking.
VIRGINIA.
In pity ſtop theſe tender Tears, Icilia,
They wound my Soul; perhaps the lawleſs Tyrant
May yet relent; may give me back to Love,
And to my weeping Friends: perhaps the Gods,
By Means we think not of, may ſave my Honour.

SCENE V.

[109]
VIRGINIA, ICILIA, NUMITORIUS, TREBONIUS.
TREBONIUS.
WHERE is Virginia? She is ſummon'd hence;
This very Moment Appius gains the Forum;
I ſaw him paſs, with haſty Steps he went,
He ſtarted oft, and caſt his Eyes around,
Then bent them gloomily to Earth; and trembled,
As if diſtracted with contending Paſſions.
VIRGINIA.
O, I ſhall faint! Support me, dear Icilia,
The dreadful Hour is come: where is Icilius?
Where is my Father? Sure they will not leave me.
TREBONIUS.
They wait without, to guard thee to the Forum,
Surrounded by their Friends: a Train of Matrons
[110] Attends thee too: diſmiſs thy Fears, Virginia,
And truſt the Roman People.
VIRGINIA.
O, Trebonius,
I fear my Heart will be too true a Prophet:
But let us go. Farewell, my dear Icilia.
ICILIA.
Stay but a Moment more. Alas! Virginia,
I have a thouſand tender Things to ſay,
But Tears prevent me: think how we have lov'd,
And pity me.—
VIRGINIA.
Forbear this cruel Kindneſs; thy Complainings
Diſarm my Soul: I wou'd be more than Woman
To meet approaching Fate; but thy fond Tears,
Have ſoften'd me, Icilia, to an Infant.
Farewell: may Heaven reward thy matchleſs Goodneſs
To thy ill-fated Friend!
ICILIA.
[111]
Another Moment,
And I have done; Why do I tremble thus?
My faltering Tongue will not perform it's Office.
O, doſt thou think we e'er ſhall meet again?
VIRGINIA.
We ſhall, Icilia; Heaven will not abandon
The virtuous in Misfortune: let us hope
For happier Days. The flying Minutes call me:
Once more, farewell, for if I ſtay a Moment
My Soul will ſink in Softneſs. Come, Trebonius;
You, Numitorius, for my ſake, will ſtay,
And chear my drooping Friend: ſpeak Comfort to her;
Bid her remember chaſte Diana's Omens,
Nor doubt th'immortal Powers. Farewell.
ICILIA.
Trebonius.

SCENE VI.

[112]
ICILIA, NUMITORIUS, TREBONIUS.
TREBONIUS.
WHAT wou'd Icilia?
ICILIA.
O, if any Pity
Dwells in your Soul, let me not feel a Moment
The Pangs of Doubt: whate'er Virginia's Fate,
Fly on the Inſtant, and acquaint me with it.
TREBONIUS.
I will, by awful Jove.

SCENE VII.

[113]
ICILIA, NUMITORIUS.
ICILIA.
IF I muſt loſe her—
O, Numitorius, from our earlieſt Youth
She was Icilia's other Self. Her Virtues—
But well thou know'ſt them—
NUMITORIUS.
Can'ſt thou doubt the Gods?
She is their Care, Icilia. I muſt leave thee;
Even this old feeble Arm in ſuch a Cauſe.—
ICILIA.
A Moment ſtay: cold Drops bedew my Face,
My trembling Limbs relax, and will not bear me.
O, do not leave me to theſe dreadful Horrors!
NUMITORIUS.
I wou'd not, but Virginia.—
ICILIA.
[114]
Hence, away!
This Moment leave me: rather let my Brain
Turn with my Fears, than my Virginia want
A Friend to aid her.
NUMITORIUS.
I'm deceiv'd, Icilia,
Or from the Forum ſounds confus'd approach us,
Sounds of Diſtreſs. I fear I've ſtaid too long.
ICILIA.
Fly to her Aid: ſtay not to anſwer me.

SCENE VIII.

ICILIA.
HARK! Sure I heard a Shrick! no, 'twas my Fears:
All is dead Silence. I ſhall go diſtracted:
This ſolemn Stillneſs o'er the Houſe affrights me:
I'll call the Slaves. Euphronia. No one anſwers.
[115] All, all are gone to learn Virginia's Fate,
Daughter of Jove! thou Virgin Goddeſs, hear!
(kneeling.)
If Virtue is thy Care, protect Virginia!
Defend her helpleſs Innocence!

SCENE IX.

ICILIA, TREBONIUS.
TREBONIUS.
ICILIA.
ICILIA.
Trebonius here! my beating Heart—O tell me,
Does my Virginia live?
TREBONIUS.
Alas, Icilia!
How ſhall I tell thee? The too partial Gods—
ICILIA.
[116]
Then all is loſt.
TREBONIUS.
Now ſummon all thy Courage,
For thou wilt need it all. Unhappy Maid!
Virginia dies this Moment. Gods ſhe faints,
What have I done? Icilia.
ICILIA.
Are there Gods,
And cou'd they ſee this? Give me Way, Trebonius,
Where is my murder'd Friend?
TREBONIUS.
A Moment hear me:
Too ſoon her breathleſs Form—
ICILIA.
No more, no more,
I cannot bear it—Theſe fond Tears—Virginia,
Thou then haſt kept thy cruel Reſolution.
TREBONIUS.
[117]
By her own Hand ſhe fell not. Spite of all
The People's mighty Promiſes, when Appius,
Raging with keen Revenge, and wild Deſire,
Unheard all Proofs, ſoon as ſhe reach'd the Forum,
Pronounc'd her Claudius' Slave, and ſent a Lictor
To ſeize her, mute they ſtood, like lifeleſs Statues,
And gave him Way: Icilius ruſh'd like Fate
To ſtab the Tyrant, but was ſoon ſurrounded;
Then poor Virginius—O, Icilia! Here
Grief ſtops my Tongue.
ICILIA.
What of Virginius? ſpeak.
TREBONIUS.
He ſnatch'd her from the Lictor:
One laſt Embrace, he cry'd, is all I aſk,
Then wilding caſting up his Eyes to Heaven;
As if complaining of the careleſs Gods;
He drew a Dagger, hid beneath his Robe,
[118] And plung'd it in her Boſom, thus, he cry'd
Thy Father keeps his Word, and ſets thee free.
ICILIA.
Cruel! inhuman, Father!
TREBONIUS.
How, Icilia!
What doſt thou mean?
ICILIA.
O, pardon, good old Man!
My frantick Rage, and let me curſe the Tyrant
Who turn'd thy Sword upon thy Age's Darling;
But Death ſhall free me from this Load of Sorrow.
TREBONIUS.
No more, Icilia; poor Deſpair becomes not
A Roman Soul: woud'ſt thou o'erwhelm thy Brother,
Already too, too wretched?
ICILIA.
My Virginia!
Did'ſt thou not tell me we ſhou'd meet again?
TREBONIUS.
[119]
Behold! ſhe comes! this Way the Matrons lead her:
Alas! how pale! how chang'd! e'er this I fear'd
The Hand of Death had ſeiz'd her.
ICILIA.
Gracious Gods!
Thus do I ſee Virginia? How I lov'd her
You beſt can tell—Was it for this—Break Heart,
And let us die together—

SCENE X.

[120]
ICILIA, VIRGINIUS, ICILIUS, TREBONIUS, VIRGINIA ſupported by Matrons.
VIRGINIA.
HERE, let me reſt, my Friends, Life ebbs apace:
O, I am ſick to Death. Where is Icilia?
TREBONIUS.
She cannot ſpeak to thee.
VIRGINIA.
Come near, Icilia.
Give me thy Hand: may every gracious Power
Shower countleſs Bleſſings on thee! May'ſt thou find
Another Friend as true as thy Virginia!
ICILIA.
[121]
O, never, never; I will follow thee:
I will not live without thee.
VIRGINIA.
Live, I charge thee:
Live for thy Brother's ſake: he ill will bear
My Loſs; ſupport him—
VIRGINIUS.
O! my Child! My Child!
Can'ſt thou forgive me? Cou'd my Death have ſav'd thee,
I wou'd have bled with Tranſport—
VIRGINIA.
Forgive? I bleſs you for the Blow that ſav'd me,
For this laſt Act may Heaven reward your Goodneſs.
But you were ever kind, the tendereſt, beſt,
And moſt indulgent Parent. O, I faint!
How my Eyes ſwim! Where is my dear Icilius?
ICILIUS.
[122]
Thou murder'd Excellence! My laboring
Soul—
I cannot ſpeak—
VIRGINIA.
My Father, my Icilius,
Revenge my Death: O, might it ſave my Country,
The Gods were kind indeed! I can no more—
My Breath grows ſhort—give me a little Air:
All-gracious Gods! preſerve, and bleſs my Father!
'Tis very dark—once more thy Hand, Icilia,
Comfort thy Brother, and remember—Oh!—
(Dies.)
ICILIA.
Speak to me once again, my dear Virginia;
O, ſhe is gone for ever!
TREBONIUS.
Lead her hence.
(To the Matrons.)

SCENE XI.

[123]
VIRGINIUS, ICILIUS, TREBONIUS.
VIRGINIUS.
LET ſwift Deſtruction ſeize the Murderous Tyrant!
Here I devote him to the infernal Gods
By this chaſte Blood my wretched Hand has ſpilt,
May all his Children bleed before his Eyes,
And Pangs like mine, diſtract him! O, my Child!
ICILIUS.
Ye vengeful Gods! give Appius to my Sword!
Give me to ſtab his impious Heart! to drag him
Thro' all the Streets of Rome! and I will bear
This Load of Anguiſh you have laid upon me.
I will not ſhed a Tear; my Breaſt is ſteel'd
[124] With ſtern Revenge, and Horror: let us go;
Why do we waſte in Words the Hour of Blood?
VIRGINIUS.
For this alone I live: for dear Revenge
I drag a wretched Being: yes my Child
Thy Father, who to ſave thee from Pollution,
Stab'd his own Heart, thro' thine, will yet ſupport
A Life born down with Grief, to glut thy Shade
With Vengeance on the Monſter who deſtroy'd thee.

SCENE XII.

VIRGINIUS, ICILIUS, TREBONIUS, NUMITORIUS, Romans.
NUMITORIUS.
ENOUGH, my Friends, Icilius is your Tribune:
Where is Virginius? Liberty is ours:
The Tyrant falls; the People, all inſpir'd
[125] With ſudden Rage, have burſt th'enfeebling Bands
Of ſilken Indolence; a thouſand Daggers
Now drink his Blood;
To make our Freedom ſure
They name Horatius and Valerius, Conſuls,
And brave Icilius Tribune.
ICILIUS.
Let us fly:
Virginia's injured Spirit hovers o'er us,
And calls for ampler Vengeance: yes, thou dear one,
The whole accurſt Decemvirate ſhall bleed,
Thy offer'd Victims.
NUMITORIUS.
Mid'ſt the riſing Tumult;
A Meſſenger is ſeiz'd, who bears to Fabius
The Tyrant's Orders to behead brave Labeo,
And decimate the Troops: this ſeals them ours,
[126] And points their wavering Swords at the Decemvirs.
TREBONIUS.
Droop not, Virginius; let Revenge awake you;
Revenge, and Liberty: 'tis Rome that calls.
VIRGINIUS.
Yes, brave Trebonius, I obey thy Summons:
Sunk as I am beneath this Weight of Sorrow,
My bleeding Country ſhall not call in vain:
I will forget the Father, in the Roman.
Here kneel, and ſwear, by all the Gods of Vengeance,
By Liberty, and by the Soul of Rome,
To aid my juſt Revenge: ſwear on this Dagger,
Stain'd with the Blood of Innocence.
All ROMANS.
We ſwear.
VIRGINIUS.
'Tis not for me, but for yourſelves, O, Romans!
[127] That Freedom bids you wake the glorious Flame;
To ſave your blooming Virgins from Pollution:
I have no Intereſt in theſe Tyrant's Deaths:
What can I loſe? Alas! I have no Daughter.
(Looking on Virginia's Body.)
TREBONIUS.
The Moments call: why waſte we Time, Virginius?
Fly to the Camp at Algidum, and rouſe them
To Liberty, and Vengeance; whilſt Icilius,
With Numitorius haſtens to Fidenae,
And fires their Boſoms with the Tyrant's Order.
Horatius, and Valerius, with myſelf,
Will keep alive this Spirit in the City,
'Till you, by haſty Marches, bring the Soldiers,
To finiſh what the People have begun.
NUMITORIUS.
Tomorrow's riſing Dawn ſhall ſee our Eagles,
Led by Revenge, approach the Walls of Rome.
O, my Trebonius! this dear, murder'd Maid,
[128] This ſecond Lucrece, ſaves her ſuffering Country.
The Ways of Heaven are hid from human Sight,
Unſearchable to Man: tho' Juſtice lingers,
'Tis but with Rage redoubled to return,
And cruſh the Tyrant who ſecurely ſins,
Nor deems that Jove beholds his dark Offences.
TREBONIUS.
From this Event, let erring Mortals know,
Jove marks their Crimes, tho' he withholds the Blow:
Black Vengeance riſes at his dread Command,
Nor ſleeps the Thunder in th' Almighty's Hand.
O, King of Gods! ſtill guard the Roman State!
Let Death unpity'd on Ambition wait,
And every Tyrant meet with Appius' Fate!
The END.

PASTORALS, ODES, AND TRANSLATIONS.

[]

PASTORALS.

[131]

PASTORAL I.

IN that ſoft Month when Spring's reviving Power
Reſtores to bloomy Life each od'rous Flower,
Gives to th'enamel'd Meads their various Hue,
And calls the lively Verdure forth to view;
Two beauteous Nymphs, the faireſt of the Grove,
While Morning roſe, alternate, ſung of Love.
AMINTA.
See, gentle Delia, ſee the riſing Dawn
Gild the Green Valley, and the dewy Lawn!
The Lark aſcends, the Waters murmuring flow,
And breathing Winds o'er vernal Roſes blow;
Our Lambs exulting, wanton o'er the Plain,
And Nature's Charms invite the tuneful Strain,
[132] Say then, what Swain among'ſt the rural Throng
Demands the Tribute of thy matchleſs Song?
DELIA.
O, may bleſt Concord, to our Land reſtor'd,
For peaceful Crooks expel the hoſtile Sword!
Return ſoft-ſmiling Peace, ſince War's Alarms
Have raviſh'd Daphnis from his Delia's Arms.
AMINTA.
No rude Alarms diſturb Aminta's Eaſe,
Alike to her are War, and ſmiling Peace;
In ſmiling Peace ſhe ſpends the bliſsful Hours
With dear Alexis in ſequeſter'd Bowers.
DELIA.
In vain, when Zephyr wakes the genial Spring,
The feather'd Train their Notes melodious ſing;
Their Notes melodious no Delight inſpire
Since Daphnis' Voice is wanting in the Choir.
AMINTA.
To me or Spring or Autumn grateful Prove;
The Seaſons change, but not Alexis' Love:
[133] Alexis' conſtant Love, in melting Strains,
Repeating Echo warbles to the Plains:
His breathing Sighs, convey'd by fanning Gales,
Improve the Fragrance of the flowry Vales.
DELIA.
Tell me, ye ſmiling Meads! ye velvet Plains!
Why, Daphnis gone, your Verdure ſtill remains?
With heedleſs Glance I paſs your Beauties o'er;
Still, ſtill you ſmile, but O, you pleaſe no more.
AMINTA.
Sweet is the Month when bounteous Nature ſpreads
Her vernal Mantle o'er the Daiſy'd Meads;
Sweet are the pearly Dewdrops o'er the Field,
And ſweet the Scent the riſing Violets yield;
Sweet is the Breath of Zeph'rus in the Breeze:
Sure of Alexis all have learnt to pleaſe!
More ſweet the Words his opening Lips diſcloſe
Than Balm ambroſial breathing from the Roſe.
DELIA.
[134]
At Diſtance ſee the Grove in Order riſe
Where you tall Pinetree ſeems to touch the Skies!
As that fair Tree amidſt the humbler Grove,
So in the Battle ſhines the Youth I love;
His graceful Form, and martial Port, by far
Excel the nobleſt of the Sons of War.
AMINTA.
With each Perfection bleſt, my Charmer view,
Fair as the Light, and freſh as Morning Dew,
Soft as the Seaſon; as the Seaſon gay,
And tuneful as the Lark on yonder Spray.
DELIA.
The mingled Flow'rets of the ſmiling Year
Compos'd a Garland when my Swain was here;
He plac'd the Wreath around my flowing Hair,
And ſwore, my Bluſhes made the Roſe leſs fair.
AMINTA.
For dear Alexis opening Roſes bloom,
For him the balmy Lillies ſhed Perfume.
[135] But Hark!—Methinks along the neighbouring Grove
I hear the well-known Sound of him I love!
Ye Gods! 'tis he! the Woods reſound his Lays:
And ſee! in yonder verdant Bower he ſtays!
Come, beauteous Nymph! and own, my lovely Swain
Excels the faireſt Shepherds on the Plain:
Come, beauteous Nymph! and hear the melting Lay
That ſtole my young unpractis'd Soul away.

PASTORAL II.

PALEMON.
AS late, to ſhun the Noonday's ſcorching Heat,
I ſought in yonder Grove a cool Retreat;
Beneath an Elm, around whoſe Branches twine
The fragrant Woodbine, and the curling Vine,
[136] Fair Doris ſat; and in a dying Strain,
The lovely Maid accus'd her faithleſs Swain.
Ye wavy Trees! ye gently murmuring Springs!
Attend! to you the wretched Doris ſings:
Oft have ye heard, but now ſhall hear no more,
The melting Vows my perjur'd Damon ſwore:
Here, while he ſung, the Winds forgot to blow,
The Leaves to tremble, and the Streams to flow;
All Nature fix'd in ſilent Wonder ſtood,
And not a breathing Breeze diſturb'd the Wood.
This Elm is Witneſs of my conſtant Flame,
Whoſe yielding Rhind is pierc'd with Damon's Name,
Beneath the Shelter of it's ſpreading Boughs
My lovely Shepherd breath'd his artful Vows;
Here, while his trembling Lips his Flame confeſt,
The ſoft Infection ſeiz'd my pitying Breaſt.
How ſweet with him to trace, at early Dawn,
The flow'ry Mead, or Dew-beſpangled Lawn,
With him at Noon to bait the ſhining Hook
[137] Where the tall Poplar trembled o'er the Brook!
Then ſmil'd the Grove, and ſmil'd the verdant Plain,
But Damon falſe, their Beauties riſe in vain.
Ah! cruel Shepherd! tho' my Tongue deny'd,
My downcaſt Eyes were ſtill on Damon's ſide.
Return, fair Charmer, to thy native Plains;
Return, and bleſs me with thy tender Strains:
For thee the Meads ſhall brighter Liveries wear,
And ſtudious Nature deck the ſmiling Year;
For thee the Flowers a fairer Bloom diſcloſe,
And Odours breath more fragrant from the Roſe.
Tho' wealthy Daphne larger Flocks may feed,
And her's the Herds that graze yon flow'ry Mead,
Yet I can boaſt unrival'd rural Strains,
And Charms that fire to Love the ſighing Swains:
Can ſordid Gain my Damon's Boſom move?
And what is Wealth, Alas! to faithful Love?
Ah! cruel Youth! no more my Tongue denies,
And Tears are all the Language of my Eyes.
[138] While ſadly thus her plaintive Numbers flow'd,
And Love unfeign'd each tuneful Grace beſtow'd,
Oppreſt with Grief ſhe ſunk upon the Plain,
Like a fair Lilly overcharg'd with Rain:
I rais'd the Maid, and bore her from the Grove,
And curs'd the Shepherd who was dead to Love.

ODES.

[139]

ODE I. To the Muſe.

BENEATH this cloſe embow'ring Shade
My languid Limbs ſupinely laid,
Thy ſoft, thy gentle Influence, brings
A Bliſs unknown to Courts and Kings.
Not ſordid Care's intruſive Power,
Nor bleak Misfortune's cruel Hour,
Can reach the raptur'd Poet's Breaſt;
Or move the Mind by thee poſſeſt.
By thee oppreſſive Want beguil'd,
Immortal Homer careleſs ſmil'd,
[140] And much-wrong'd Sappho cou'd defy
The keener Stings of Calumny.
While Care the Miſer's Pillow haunts,
With Spectres of imagin'd Wants,
Thy lenient Power my Soul inſpires
With Slumbers calm as my Deſires.
Yet Ah! while thus ſupremely bleſt,
Poetic Pleaſure fills my Breaſt,
Permit, O Muſe! one anxious Sigh,
For Britain's drooping Liberty.

ODE II. To Sappho.

NOT Philomela's liquid Throat,
Nor dear Amintor's ſofter Note
O, charmer of the Leſbian Plains!
Can equal thy melodious Strains.
[141]
When, in thy bright enchanting Page,
I view the tender, am'rous Rage,
The melting Lines my Boſom move,
And all my yielding Soul is Love.
And ſure thy raptur'd Notes have Art
To melt the ſtubborn marble Heart;
To wake the ſoft conſenting Glow
Ev'n in Amintor's Breaſt of Snow.
If magic Numbers can controul
His native Cruelty of Soul,
O, bring the ſilver-ſounding Lyre,
To wake the gentle young Deſire!
Harmonious Songſtreſs! I no more
Will Cytherea's Power adore,
Since ſuch diſſolving Numbers prove
That Sappho is the Queen of Love.

ODE III. To Friendſhip.

[142]
NO more fond Love ſhall wound my Breaſt;
In all his Smiles deceitful dreſt,
I ſcorn his coward Sway;
And now with Pleaſure can explore
The galling Chains I felt before,
Since I am free To-day.
Today with Friendſhip I'll rejoice,
While dear Lucinda's gentle Voice
Shall ſoften every Care:
O Goddeſs of the Joy ſincere!
The ſocial Sigh! the pleaſing Tear!
Thy nobler Bonds I'll wear.
When firſt, illfated, hapleſs Hour!
My Soul confeſt Amintor's Power
[143] Lucinda ſhar'd my Grief;
And leaning on her faithful Breaſt,
The fatal Paſſion I confeſt,
And found a ſoft Relief.
My Steps ſhe oft was wont to lead
Along the fair enamel'd Mead,
To ſoothe my raging Pain;
And oft with tender Converſe ſtrove
To draw the Sting of hopeleſs Love,
And make me ſmile again.
O much-lov'd Maid! while Life remains
To thee I'll conſecrate my Strains,
For thee I'll tune my Lyre;
And echoing with my ſweeteſt Lays,
The vocal Hills ſhall ſpeak the Praiſe
Of Friendſhip's ſacred Fire.

ODE IV.

[144]
O, far remov'd from my Retreat
Be Av'rice and Ambition's Feet!
Give me, unconſcious of their Power,
To taſte the peaceful ſocial Hour!
Give me, beneath the branching Vine,
The Woodbine ſweet, or Eglantine
While Evening ſheds it's balmy Dews
To court the chaſte inſpiring Muſe!
Or, with the Partner of my Soul,
To mix the Heart-expanding Bowl!
Yes, dear Sabina, when with thee
I hail the Goddeſs Liberty;
When, joyous, through the leafy Grove,
Or o'er the flow'ry Mead, we rove;
When thy dear tender Boſom ſhares
Thy faithful Delia's Joys and Cares,
Nor Pomp, nor Wealth, my Wiſhes more,
Nor the more ſoft Deceiver, Love.

ODE V. To Health.

[145]
THE Leſbian Lute no more can charm,
Nor my once-panting Boſom warm,
No more I breathe the tender ſigh;
Nor, when my beauteous Swain appears
With downcaſt Look, and ſtarting Tears,
Confeſs the Luſtre of his Eye.
With Freedom bleſt, at early Dawn,
I wander o'er the verdant Lawn,
And hail the ſweet returning Spring;
The fragrant Breeze, the feather'd Choir
To raiſe my vernal Joys conſpire,
Whilſt Peace and Health their Treaſures bring.
Come, lovely Health! divineſt Maid!
And lead me through the rural Shade!
[146] To thee the rural Shades belong;
'Tis thine to bleſs the ſimple Swain;
And, while he tries the tuneful Strain,
To raiſe the raptur'd Poet's Song.
Behold the patient Village-Hind!
No Cares diſturb his tranquil Mind
By thee, and ſweet Contentment, bleſt;
All Day he turns the ſtubborn Plain,
And meets at Eve his Infant Train
While guiltleſs Pleaſure fills his Breaſt.
O, ever good, and bounteous! ſtill
By Fountain freſh, or murmuring Rill,
Let me thy bliſsful Preſence find;
Thee, Goddeſs, thee my Steps purſue,
When careleſs of the Morning Dew,
I leave the leſſening Vales behind.

ODE VI.

[147]
WHY will dear Aminta find
Ills beyond the preſent Hour?
Why torment her gentle Mind,
With malicious Fortune's Power?
To Fate belongs Tomorrow's Dawn,
But let To-day be all our own.
While 'tis given to hear thy Voice
Breathe the Softneſs of thy Soul,
Let us, deareſt Maid, rejoice,
Let us fill the ſprightly Bowl;
And whiſpering low the favor'd Youth,
Commend his Tenderneſs and Truth.
Wherefore does thy fading Cheek
Speak the Doubt, the tender Fear?
Why that faint Effort to ſpeak?
[148] Tell me, why that ſtarting Tear?
Does Damon ſlight thy gentle Chain,
And ſigh for Rhodope again?
Ah! too plain that ſtreaming Eye
Speaks my lov'd Aminta's Pain:
Vain the Voice of feſtive Joy,
Sorrow waits the Lover's Train:
Too weak, Alas! the powerful Bowl
To cure this Sickneſs of the Soul.

ODE VII. On reading the Ode to Wiſdom in CLARISSA.

LET Carter ſing, in loftieſt Lays,
Immortal Wiſdom's deathleſs Praiſe;
Pleas'd to applaud her tuneful Name,
My Notes ſhall join the Voice of Fame.
[149]
To me the Powers benign, decree
A Soul from pining Envy free,
That can ſuperior Worth admire,
And liſten pleas'd to Carter's Lyre.
Enough for me, that on the Plains,
Bright Cecil hears my humbler Strains:
Can pining Envy touch the Breaſt,
In Cecil's partial Favor bleſt?

ODE VIII.

AWAY! nor talk of flow'ry Chains,
Of dear Diſtreſs, and pleaſing Pains;
But learn this uſeful Truth from me,
That Pleaſure dwells with Liberty.
Me, let the vagrant Muſes lead
To wander careleſs o'er the Mead;
Or, ſoft repos'd, beſide the Stream,
To taſte the wild poetic Dream.
[150]
Let glowing Fancy paint the Scene
Of airy Pindus, ever green;
Around the Delian God, in State,
Let all his tuneful Servants wait.
And ſee! where Sappho ſits alone!
Her flowing Robe, her looſen'd Zone,
Th' ambroſial Scents her Locks diffuſe,
Diſtinguiſh well the Leſbian Muſe.
A roſy Smile o'erſpreads her Face,
Her Mein aſſumes a ſweeter Grace;
She waves her ſnowy Hand, and ſee!
My gentle Lyre, ſhe points to thee!
She takes, ſhe tries my trembling Lyre,
And ſwelling, Lo! the Notes aſpire!
She ſtrikes the Strings, and all around
Liſtening Echoes catch the Sound.
Ah! could the raptur'd Maid impart
To me her ſweet harmonious Art,
[151] The ſilver Nine
A River in Northamptonſhire.
, in ſofteſt Strain,
Shou'd hear my warbling Lute complain.

ODE IX.

O, thou, my lov'd, my lateſt Choice!
To whom my riper Vows are paid!
Though thoughtleſs of thy heav'nly Voice,
I firſt the plaintive Strain eſſay'd;
Be thou, O, Fame! my ſweeteſt, beſt Reward,
And crown with deathleſs Bays thy raptur'd Bard.
Awhile, by Sappho's Numbers fir'd,
I touch'd the languid, Leſbian String;
But now by thee arrous'd, inſpir'd,
Of nobler Themes I burn to ſing;
Of godlike Britain's Liberty and Laws,
And Heroes bleeding in her beauteous Cauſe.
[152]
So wanders wild the gen'rous Steed,
In wanton Youth, of Eaſe poſſeſt;
Serene he crops the flow'ry Mead,
No thought of Glory fires his Breaſt:
But when he hears the Trumpet's Sound from far,
His Soul dilates, and ſwelling, pants for War.
O, beauteous Liberty! for thee
The Rhine's unhappy Exiles roam,
Forc'd by a Tyrant's hard Decree,
To quit their dear paternal Home:
By thee Helvetia's barren Mountains ſmile,
Nor envy fair Campania's fruitful Soil.
Nor be my weaker Sex deny'd
To breathe the glorious Patriot Strain;
Since we can boaſt, with pleaſing Pride,
The Virgin Queen's triumphant Reign:
When Tyranny forſook th'enfranchis'd Land,
And Freedom roſe beneath a female Hand.
[153]
With Freedom roſe her genuine Train,
The Stateſman wiſe, the letter'd Sage,
The laurel'd Bard, the Chieftain plain,
And own'd a new Auguſtan Age:
Around the great Eliza's dreaded Throne,
Victorious Eſſex, Drake, and Raleigh, ſhone.
Then blameleſs Walſingham aroſe,
At once his Queen's and Country's Friend,
Skill'd to diſcern their lurking Foes,
And from the ſecret Dart defend:
And deathleſs Bacon's comprehenſive Soul,
Of boundleſs Science graſp'd th'amazing whole.
But ſee, to guide the golden Reins
Of Empire, mighty Burghley riſe!
He pours forth Plenty o'er the Plains;
Calm, ſteady, uncorrupted, wiſe:
O, ſacred Shade! accept the grateful Lay,
Each Britiſh Voice muſt to thy Virtues pay.
[154]
Then too, the favor'd Muſes ſmil'd;
And ſporting on the Banks of Thame,
Strong-fancy'd Spencer, Shakespear wild,
And Sydney, hail'd Eliza's Name:
Then manly Johnſon's juſtly pictur'd Page,
And humorous Fletcher's ſhook the laughing Stage.
O, might thoſe glorious Days return!
Wou'd Stateſmen, fir'd by Burghley's Name,
With ancient Britiſh Ardor burn,
Scorn ſelfiſh Views, and pant for Fame!
Again our conquering Arms ſhou'd Gallia weep,
And Albion reign triumphant o'er the Deep.
Prophetic, Lo! my raptur'd Mind
Beholds as rolling Minutes move,
A Patriot-Monarch
The Author wou'd not be miſunderſtood as meaning any Diſreſpect to a Name for which ſhe has the greateſt Veneration: all ſhe meant was to expreſs the Hopes almoſt univerſally conceiv'd, at the Time this Ode was wrote, of a moſt amiable Prince, who dy'd not long after, lamented by a whole People; and like Titus, left behind him the Character of, the Friend of Human kind.
, who ſhall find
His Safety in his People's Love:
[155] Unbrib'd, around, his grateful Subjects ſtand,
While baſe Corruption bluſhing leaves the Land.
Then o'er Britannia's beauteous Iſle
Shall Peace and Arts together riſe;
Encourag'd by the royal Smile,
Shall future Homers reach the Skies:
Each modeſt Muſe ſhall raiſe her drooping Head,
Nor pine, neglected, in the barren Shade.
But, whither, fir'd, wou'd Fancy rove,
And ſoaring, dare the lofty Theme?
Me beſt beſeems, amid the Grove,
To paint the Mead, or murmuring Stream:
There let me warble ſtill my artleſs Lays,
Too bleſt in beauteous Cecil's gen'rous Praiſe.
END of the ODES.

IMITATIONS.
La bella CACCIATRICE.

[156]
From GUARINI.
DONNA, laſciate i boſchi:
Che fú ben Cintia Cacciatrice anch'ella,
Ma non fú, come voi, leggiadra; e bella;
Voi avete beltate
Da far preda di Cori, e non di belve:
Vener infra le ſelve,
Star non conviene, e ſe convien, deh ſiate
Fera ſolo á le fiere, á mé benigna,
Cintia ne' boſchi, e nel mio ſen Ciprigna.
IMITATED.
Leave, O leave the woody Glade!
Leave thy Sports, my beauteous Maid!
[157] Cynthia, of immortal Race,
Lov'd, 'tis true, the Sylvan Chaſe,
Shining in terrific Arms,
But Cynthia cou'd not boaſt thy Charms:
Thy lovely Form was made to fire
Each am'rous Heart with young Deſire,
And, beauteous as the Dawn of Day,
To take the Hunters, not the Prey:
Nor Beauty's Charms, nor ſmiling Love,
Become the monſter-breeding Grove:
Yet if thy Breaſt with Anger burn,
On furious Beaſts thy Fury turn;
Purſue the Savage o'er the Plain,
But ſtill be gentle to thy Swain:
Like Cynthia in the Woods be ſeen,
But in my Arms, the Cyprian Queen.
From the SAME.
Felice, chi vi mira;
Má piú felice chi per voi ſoſpira;
Feliciſſimo poi
[158] Chi, ſoſpirando, fá ſoſpirar voi,
Ben hebbe amica Stella,
Chi per Donna ſi bella
Può far Contento in un l'Occhio, e deſio;
E ſicuro può dir, quel Core è mio.
IMITATED.
How bleſt, my Fair, who on thy Face,
Uncheck'd by Fear may fondly gaze!
Who when he breathes the tender Sigh,
Beholds no Anger in thine Eye!
Ah! then, what Joys await the Swain,
Who fondly pleads, nor pleads in vain!
Who ſees thy panting Boſom riſe,
And gently heave with mutual Sighs!
O, happieſt of the Sons of Earth!
What friendly Star o'er-rul'd thy Birth,
That thus with Love-conſenting Eyes,
For thee the brighteſt Virgin dies?
Thy Vows have rais'd th'extatic Fire,
Erminia melts with ſoft Deſire:
[159] Thy Voice, with Rapture all divine
Secure may ſay, this Heart is mine.
From the SAME.
Occhi, Stelle mortali,
Miniſtre dè miei mali,
Chel' in ſogno anco moſtrate,
Che mio morir bramate,
Se chiuſi m'uccidete,
Aperti, che farete?
IMITATED.
Ye beauteous Eyes! ye mortal Stars!
Ye lovely Miniſters of Ill!
How ſhall I meet your magic Force,
That ev'n in Sleep have Pow'r to kill?
If clos'd, ye ſteal our Souls away,
Who can reſiſt your opening Ray?
The END.
Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5105 Virginia a tragedy with odes pastorals and translations By Mrs Brooke. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-6093-1