Lucius Junius Brutus: or, the expulsion of the Tarquins: an historical play. By Hugh Downman.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

A Street in Rome.

Enter two Citizens, one of Collatia, the other of Rome.

FIRST CITIZEN.

I Told you how this melancholy sight, The history of the deed shewn in its true And native colours, by th' afflicted husband And father, with the artless eloquence Of real grief; how the discovery Of Brutus, and his speech, affected us. Each braver youth stood quickly by their side Array'd in arms, burning with indignation Pent in their breasts. We left Collatia And enter'd Rome; a sight so new and strange, With the arm'd multitude, first struck th' inhabitants With fear and terror: but when they beheld The order of our march, peaceful and solemn, They soon put off their fears, and throng'd to gaze Undress'd, unornamented, on her bier Lay, scarce yet cold, Lucretia's chaste remains, Beauteous in death: you might have ta'en her so, And placed her in a temple, 'twould be sworn 'Twas Venus' image cut in alabaster. Or for her hair confusedly scatter'd over Her comely face and neck, Dian, reclined After her toil upon a mount, exposed To the rude winds; while in her breast the wound She gave herself, would cause you to admire

What sacrilegious hand should dare to stab, And give a deity to death.

SECOND CITIZEN.

Where now Is this procession? And how far behind you?

FIRST CITIZEN.

They must by this have well-nigh reach'd the forum; Where Brutus, who is tribune of the guards, (A place of trust, which Tarquin only gave him, As he appear'd an object of contempt) Hath call'd together all the centuries. He and Valerius are mean time to meet The snators, who are by this convened, (The few whom Tarquin's sword hath left alive) To lay before them his intent, his plans, And to be guided by their wise advice; While in the forum, with Lucretia's corse Laid forth to view, the father and the husband Relate the manner of her death; when this Is finish'd, Brutus shall harangue the people.

SECOND CITIZEN.

Great matters, as I think, may rise from this,

FIRST CITIZEN.

The greatest that can rise; the most desired And least expected ever to have happened, If you at Rome equal in generous sentiments Us at Collatia.

SECOND CITIZEN.

What they are, I guess; And would myself with joy hazard my life, Was there a probability shewn to me Of gaining what we now so long have lost. But rash adventurers seldom meet with profit, And a dead sleep of five and twenty years, Is what men can't be easily awaked from.

But curiosity, if nothing else, Will lead me to the forum.

FIRST CITIZEN.

I'll attend you. I came this nearer way to avoid the crowd, And glad I am I found you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Forum at Rome.

Lucretius and Collatinus standing by the Body of Lucretia The Roman People round them. The Rostrum behind.

LUCRETIUS.

Thus, thus, my friends, fast as our breaking hearts Permitted utterance, have we unfolded This narrative of sad distress; for us What now remains, robb'd as we are, of all Which gave a joy to life, but to pursue The example she hath set us, to invoke The timeless destinies, and end our beings With our own wretched hands?—Oh, vile old-age! Which for her sake alone I wish'd to see! Oh, luckless youth, whose sorrow equals mine! For thou, alas, hast lost an equal blessing! Merciless villain! Dearest, dearest daughter! Yet let us mix our sorrows, let us drop Our tears together on her lifeless clay; Nor will your tender hearts, my countrymen, Forbear to sympathize with us, and join Your sigh of grief to ours.

FIRST ROMAN.

Oh, piteous deed!

SECOND ROMAN.

Oh, lamentable sight!

THIRD ROMAN.

Ill-fated husband!

FOURTH ROMAN.

Oh, lamentable sight!

THIRD ROMAN.

Ill-fated husband!

FOURTH ROMAN.

Most wretched father!

FIFTH ROMAN.

Let us all attend, And pay due honour to Lucretia's corse.

SIXTH ROMAN.

Let all our matrons mourn, and let our virgins Strew roses on her bier.

FIRST ROMAN.

Come, then away, And let us all prepare the funeral pile.

LUCRETIUS.

For this compassion—

FIRST ROMAN.

Silence all! attend!

LUCRETIUS.

For this your tenderness, my gentle friends, I thank you from my soul. But know you not, The tribune of the guards hath call'd you hither? Hear Lucius Junius first! you know not what He hath to impart to you; private affairs Must yield to public; until he hath finish'd, I will not suffer you bestow a thought On me, and mine; unusual is this call: Your meetings long neglected. Nay, I'll tell you, (For why from you should I hide any thing?) It is for me and mine that he appears; For me, for him, for every Roman here. But, lo, he comes! Make way, my countrymen; And, I beseech you, list to what he utters, With deepest silence.

FIRST ROMAN.

Room, there! room! make away!

SECOND ROMAN.

Let him ascend the rostrum.

THIRD ROMAN.

Surely this Is errant madness; hear a fool harangue!

FOURTH ROMAN.

Be patient; fool or not, is he not tribune? And don't the laws permit him to harangue?

FIFTH ROMAN.

Besides, Lucretius hath desired our silence.

SIXTH ROMAN.

Hist! he begins; methinks his looks are alter'd.

BRUTUS.

Romans and friends! you see before you now No blundering ideot, bearing to your ears The mandates of a tyrant, and disgracing This rostrum with the servile repetition. By many who are present, this assertion May not be credited, so warily I've play'd th' imposture, which necessity Compell'd me to assume. For when your king, King do I call him? when the monster Tarquin Slew, as you most of you may well remember, And those who do not, may have heard reported, My father Marcus, and my elder brother, Envying their virtues, and with covetous And greedy eye, desiring to possess Their tempting wealth, what treatment at that time Could I have hoped for? Where could I have found Protection, had I not put on the mask Of unsuspected, unrevenging folly? The mask which having to this day preserved me, This day of my discovery, which I long Have wish'd, I now forever throw aside.

FIRST ROMAN.

Most wonderful!

SECOND ROMAN.

Who ever heard the like

THIRD ROMAN.

I'm lost in admiration.

FOURTH ROMAN.

'Twas well thought on, He had no other way to save himself; I should myself have done the very same.

FIFTH ROMAN.

How we were all deceived!

SIXTH ROMAN.

Aye, and the king, And his three sons, who used to laugh at him.

FOURTH ROMAN.

Well, I saw always something in his face, That look'd, I thought, like as if who should say, I am not what you take me for.

FIRST ROMAN.

Peace, peace; He can't proceed; silence; he speaks again.

BRUTUS.

Would you know why I summon'd you together? Ask you what brings me here? Behold this dagger Clotted with gore! Behold that frozen corse! See these unhappy men, whose tale of woe, Of horrid woe, you from their mouths have heard, And mingled social tears! Oh, chastity, Is this thy fate! Oh, Rome, how wilt thou mourn Thy thinn'd inhabitants, if goodness, virtue, Treated as crimes, must meet the stroke of death! If youth and beauty must be fingled out; First prey'd on by rapacious lust, then murder'd! Oh! I could mourn thy fate, Lucretia!

Could, like thy father and thy husband mourn; Could in laments vie with each Roman soul Who now beholds thee; and lament I will: I can't refrain; my heart is wrung with grief, Unutterable, inconceivable.

FIRST ROMAN.

Alas, Lucretia!

SECOND ROMAN.

Poor unhappy matron!

THIRD ROMAN.

Why wert thou good, and beautiful, and young?

FOURTH ROMAN.

Her father and her husband are half dead.

FIFTH ROMAN.

Brutus, methinks, is moved as much they.

FOURTH ROMAN.

Brutus! Why, Brutus? Didst not hear him say He was no more an ideot?

FIFTH ROMAN.

True, I heard it; But use is not so easily o'ercome.

SIXTH ROMAN.

Silence! attend: see! he proceeds again.

BRUTUS.

Did I, my countrymen, say, I could mourn Lucretia's death?—What sorrow must I feel, When I beheld before my eyes, as now, Methinks, I do, each Roman matron dead! When I behold each Roman maid abus'd! (For who shall circumscribe the range of lust? What numbers shall fill up his ravenous gorge? And bid his raging appetite be still?) When I behold each Roman citizen, Who hath a much-lov'd wife, a darling daughter,

Doom'd, like these two, to death, because with grief Surcharg'd, they do not sit in silence down, But dare proclaim their feelings?—Public murder, For such a crime shall snatch them from the world, Or they shall fall by the midnight assassin; Nor must their friends say how they met their death, But lay the blame upon their own despair.

FIRST ROMAN.

They shall not die.

SECOND ROMAN.

We will protect them both.

THIRD ROMAN.

We will defend them from the tyrant's wrath.

BRUTUS.

Defend them, say you? Miserable men! You know not what you say. Protect them both! Can you protect yourselves? You have committed Treason against the tyrant, and his brood Of monster sons; you've dared to look with pity, You've dropp'd a tear on murder'd innocence: You've seen Lucretia, and have wept her fate: You're partners with her father and her husband, In guilty sorrow. You have listen'd too To me, a wretch, who twenty lingering years, Have for your sakes imposed upon the tyrant, And borne the grossest insults. You have done All this: and do you not expect to feel The weight of punishment which is your due? Are you not Tarquin's slaves? (for so he calls you) And don't you dread the whip? Doth he not name you The herd? The beast with many heads? And will not The fury Massacre, let loose among you, Revel knee-deep in blood?

FIRST ROMAN.

Instruct us, Brutus, What we shall do.

SECOND ROMAN.

We'll follow thee in all things.

THIRD ROMAN.

Thou shalt direct us.

FOURTH ROMAN.

Give us thy commands, And we'll obey.

FIFTH ROMAN.

Instruct us, Brutus.

BRUTUS.

Must you be taught then what to do? Look there, Once more look that way. She one night alone, Outrage and violence sustain'd: not all The entreaties of her friends, her weeping father Begging, as he'd extort a gift from heaven, Not all her husband's tender supplication, Could shake her purpose: with a fearful hand, But an undaunted soul: a woman's feelings, But more than manly thought, deep in her breast She plung'd this sharp-edged steel, which set her free. Yes, thou art free, Lucretia! thou art gone, Noblest of women, where no Tarquins dwell! Lust gloats not on the dead, nor cruelty And bestial fierceness riot in the grave. Oh, most illustrious of thy sex, inspire Our spirit-wanting minds with but a portion, However small, of thy bright excellence! Yet even that, I fear, would be in vain. We are inured too much to slavery, To dare resist; we are quite reconciled. Determined still to drudge beneath the yoke: To shrink each hour at sight of some new murder, Some deed of baseness, treachery, and horror, Yet with our lips cry, Hail, all-gracious Tarquin. To work in sewers all day, shut up mid damps,

Denied the sight of heaven's blessed sun, Yet in the eve, when we half-choak'd, revisit The upper air, to praise benignant Tarquin. To see his sons rush into every house, To see our wives ravish'd before our eyes; To see each ripening tender maid deflower'd; To see them kill themselves; to see their pale, And ashy corses, in the public forum, Ranged all arow—Yet then we are determined To bless kind Tarquin, mercy-loving Tarquin, And beg him to beget some dozen more Of sturdy sons, with such like acts of kindness, To bless his humble, faithful citizens. If this were not your fix'd determination, Say, would you seek instructions? Would you ask What you should do? Ask ye yon conscious walls, Which saw his poison'd brother, saw the incest Committed there, and they will cry, Revenge! Ask ye yon conscious street, where Tullia drove O'er her dead father's corse, 'twill cry, Revenge! Ask yonder senate house, whose stones are purple With human blood, and it will cry, Revenge! Go to the tomb where lies his murder'd wife, And the poor queen, who lov'd him as her son, Their unappeased ghosts will shriek, Revenge! The temples of the gods, th' all-viewing heavens, The gods themselves, shall justify the cry, And swell the general sound, Revenge! Revenge!

ALL.

Revenge! Revenge! Revenge!

BRUTUS.

And we will be reveng'd, my countrymen! Brutus shall lead you on; Brutus (a name Which will when you're reveng'd, be dearer to him, Than all the splendent titles earth can boast.) Nor I alone; see where Valerius brings

The noblest of the city! See where stand Lucretius! Collatine! Nor age nor grief Depress their spirits, so as not to seek Glorious revenge.—You are this moment free. I see the tyrant fled; his soul dies in him; The voice of liberty hath reach'd the camp. I see the gladful soldiers hasting home, Big to enjoy that freedom you possess; Each one clasps close his friend, weeps on his neck, Unable to express the bursting pleasure Stretching his heart. But, when you name revenge, His eyes flash living fire, and he resolves, With you, to hunt the monsters through the world. For tyranny, once having found a foe, Meets not with an upholder. Once again Let me pronounce you free. Again 'tis yours To bring your votes: and the first case before you, Is, what becomes of Tarquin?

ALL.

We banish him the city, we banish him the city.

BRUTUS.

And now, what course will you yourselves pursue?

ALL.

Arms, Brutus! arms! We'll march against the tyrant, Lead us against him.

BRUTUS.

If you'll by my advice be over-sway'd—

ALL.

Give it us, give it, we will follow it.

BRUTUS.

Myself, with some of the Patrician youth Well-mounted, will away unto the camp. Do you each man, furnish'd with arms, prepared For action, or advice, immediately Haste to the Campus Martius, there Valerius

Shall, with the senate, to your ears impart, And to be ratified by your consent, That plan of government by me delineated, When in my fatuous state each thought was busied For you, and Rome.—Guard well the city gates; Pay the last duties to Lucretia's corse: And soon expect to see my safe return, And with me, all your friends. Th' immortal gods Are your defence, fear nothing, but be bold.

FIRST ROMAN.

Oh, noble Brutus!

SECOND ROMAN.

Giver of liberty!

THIRD ROMAN.

Father of Rome!

FOURTH ROMAN.

Deliverer of his country!

FIFTH ROMAN.

Our guardian god!

SIXTH ROMAN.

A temple shall be his Next that of Romulus.

BRUTUS.

Oh, my dear countrymen! should I pretend T' express the joy I feel for you, the gratitude You raise within me, for this high applause Shewn to my poor deserts, the time we now Possess, were much too scant, e'en years would fail. I'm wholly yours, and long as I shall breathe The breath of life, will only live for you. Now I descend: and will accompany you Without the forum; there we'll separate; You for your arms; I, to the camp at Ardea. The gods who long have in the book of Fate Foreseen this time; the gods who hate injustice,

Who punish perfidy, and cruel deeds, Go with us both: their influence I obey, The humble instrument they have appointed To rescue you from bondage, to restore Your ancient rites, to give you days of peace, And liberty, the attribute of man. But grant me one request: tho' real joy, I know, ill brooks restraint, keep back this tumult Of your applause; your love I'd fain acquire, Heaven is my witness, I would die t' acquire it! But clamour ever shews ill-guided counsels, The voice of rashness, th' argument of numbers, Of reason destitute. Not so the plan Which we pursue, the surest grounds are ours, Maturely founded, and late brought to light. Let us accomplish then the end proposed, With prudent zeal, with decent vigour, firm Intrepid hope, and silent resolution.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Camp: Tarquin's Tent.

TARQUIN, MESSENGER, GUARDS.

TARQUIN.

Take this Collatian scare-crow, guard him safe. If that the news thou bring'st shall be found false, Prepare thee for the tortures of the cross.

MESSENGER.

My Lord, it is too true.

TARQUIN.

Away with him.

[Exeunt Messenger and guards.

Brutus! it cannot be. The gods themselves Could not bestow on him the use of reason. Brutus incite the people to sedition! As soon shall the Tarpeian rock turn vo••al;

As soon the wooden Jove i'th' capitol Hurl the Vulcanian bolt. This knave hath heard Some vague report when drunk, or in his sleep Hath dream'd of this account, an unconnected, Improbable, impossible adventure.

Enter an Attendant.

My Lord, another hasty messenger Begs your immediate hearing.

TARQUIN.

Bring him before us.

MESSENGER [prostrating himself.]

Pardon, most gracious Tarquin, e'er I speak.

TARQUIN.

Speak boldly, man, for thou hast nought to fear.

MESSENGER.

I come, dread sovereign, from Rome, where Brutus Hath urged the people to rebellion.

TARQUIN.

How, and which way?

MESSENGER.

My Lord, this morn a herald, I'th' name o'th' captain of the guards, convok'd The general people to the public forum. Curious to know the cause, I too went thither. Soon was brought forth the body of Lucretia, Attended by Lucretius and her husband, And a large body of Collatian youth In arms: by turns they spake unto the people; Oft interrupted were their words, with sighs And tears—

TARQUIN.

Proceed, be brief.

MESSENGER.

They said, Lucretia

By Sextus ravish'd, had foredone herself. The people moved with pity, heard the tale, And every eye was wet.

TARQUIN.

Thy tediousness Is insupportable: haste to the end.

MESSENGER.

Then Brutus came, and mounting in the rostrum, First having shewn that his stupidity Was only forged, proceeded—

TARQUIN.

'Tis enough. No more. Without! Prepare with utmost speed A band of chosen horse! Where are my sons? Why stand you thus? Where are my sons, I say? What follow'd after he had spoke?

MESSENGER.

The people All with one voice, when he proposed the question, Of what becomes of Tarquin? cried, We banish him.

TARQUIN.

How!—Dared they?—Hah! 'tis well. What after|wards;

MESSENGER.

He then directed them first to take arms; And, while he hasted hither to the camp, To meet Valerius and the senators I'th' Campus Martius, who would lay before them A scheme of government. This having heard, I hurried straight away.

TARQUIN.

Thy loyalty Shall meet with its reward; for them—Who waits? Where are my sons? Quick bid those horsemen mount And wait for my commands. Deep hypocrite Beyond example!—Oh, I see through all.

But short shall be his reign; mysterious, dark, Unfathomable villain! But his life, His forfeit life—and the quick, easy-wrought, Inconstant crowd, them I'll reduce much lower Than beasts of burthen; they have lived too fat; Kick they their master thus?—Why did I leave One senator alive? I had done well T' have extirpated all, both root and branch. Had done is pass'd; the present hour is mine, And that shall be well used. On danger's verge To act unmoved, recoil into himself, See every train of possible design, And judge the best, is the great character Of the superior soul. This is the time Of trial, Tarquin; this the grand event, To stamp thee fortune-proof. This enemy, The tenor of his life, his perseverance, Marks the most dangerous, thence the most worthy, Thou ever hadst to cope withal. But he, If he hath gain'd not every mortal engine To aid his purpose, draws upon his head Sure ruin.—To leave Rome, and seek the camp! He falls in his own snare.

Enter ARUNS and TITUS.

My sons, you come In wish'd-for time; you know these accidents?

TITUS.

We heard them with amazement.

TARQUIN.

Where is Sextus, The ravisher of matrons; who inspires Idiots with sense, and raises insurrections Against his father?

ARUNS.

We in vain enquired; He was not in his tent.

TARQUIN.

Well may he fear To meet my presence; by th' immortal gods, This hand should slay him for a fool, a dolt! A common thief would, ere he robb'd a house, First kill the mastiff at the gate, who else Might worry him returning. As this tale By busy rumour to the soldiers' ears May get access, and if it doth, his presence May be with fatal consequence attended, Bid him still hide himself, or to withdraw Entirely from the camp. Myself will hence, And with these light-arm'd horsemen, intercept This Brutus on the road, which being done, I doubt not but to get speedy admittance Into the city, where th' unruly mob, Distract with fear, and multitude of counsels, Will of themselves be ready for submission. Should he escape my hands, in every avenue Place trusty guards, and give strict orders to them, To slay him ere he reach the camp.

TITUS.

We shall not Be wanting on our part.

TARQUIN.

Alas, my sons!

ARUNS.

What ails my father?

TARQUIN.

I am well again. A sudden damp, and creeping horror, seiz'd me. 'Tis over now. I thought my throne fix'd firm

As th' everlasting basis of the earth. Fool that I was, to trust to quibbling gods! When to the Delphic fane you took your way, What said the dark expounder, who perplexes In double maze what she pretends t'unfold? These were the words o'th' Pythian sorceress: "Beasts shall enjoy the reason of mankind, "E'er Tarquin from the snake disturbance find." This is the beast, this is the fated snake, Whom you and I have cherish'd in our bosoms; And now he brandishes his forked sting, And casts his baneful mortal venom round, Threatening destruction. But, avaunt, vain fears! I have been scared by omens: but the wretch Who yields to superstition, well deserves To fall its sacrifice. I'll haste away. Cowards and fools misfortunes antedate: In his own hand the brave man holds his fate.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Sextus's Tent.

ARUNS, SEXTUS, TITUS.

ARUNS.

I do not blame the deed, the simple deed! Oh, you mistake me quite! the deed might stand Inroll'd; I'll read it rape, nothing but rape, Plain rape; I'd turn my eyes another way, Nor add one transient slight remark of mine To those of conscientious, babbling, sniveling, Mouth-watering knaves, who envy every man The dainty morsel they can't eat themselves. But I see wrote in equal characters, Bad consequences, such as these, to wit, Revenge, and mutiny, and insurrection,

And banishment, and loss of empire; these Denominate the deed with me, and these I still will harrass and perplex thee with; And ring thee such alarms, that thou shalt wish The cut-throat Brutus, or the cuckold Collatine, Stood by thee rather, with their sharpen'd swords Levell'd against thy throat.

SEXTUS.

Pr'ythee, no more; I don't repent the deed: as for the consequences, Thy words can't add a sting to my reflections.

ARUNS.

Yet I will sting thee, I will taunt thee still.— No, rather let me, like a loving brother, Turn thy apologist, and make excuses. As thus. When lust revels predominant, Folly and frenzy cut wild capriols In Reason's court. Or thus, with languid eye, And whining tone—When beauty fires the sense, Beauty, soft tyrant! amiable invader! Consideration turns an hood-wink'd ass. Or thus, in grave and philosophic vein— What mortal man can with his finite glance Survey the boundless waste of future time, And cull out the events which there are sown Crude, unexistent, till th' all-potent hand Of Jove, uplifts them from the dark abyss, And gives them form substantial?—Oh, man! man! What a vile fool art thou! By heaven and earth, The stalking monster man grows every day More and more stupid and ridiculous. See the erect machine! he lifts his head, Proclaims himself a godling! Bend, ye abject, Inferior animals!—Oh, could I set thee, Proud miscreant, in thy place, there's not a beast But I would raise above thee. Reason thine!

The matchless gift of speech! An ox, an ape, Could I interpret, talks as well as thou dost; His actions prove it.—Not foresee events With all thy reason! Instinct then is better. Which of the herd will plunge into the tide? Expect the liquid element to change, And bear him as on land? Did e'er the eagle Forth from his lofty ayerie dart to th' ground And not expand his wings? E'er he enjoys His loving mistress, the stern bull knows well That he must beat his rival from the pasture. But why thus throw away my time on trifles! The most insipid theme that man can talk of Is of mankind. Titus, see there! behold! He too will boast his reason; yet he knows not The veriest insect will, when trod upon, Endeavour at resistance.

TITUS.

To what purpose This tends, I can't conceive. Oh, Aruns, Aruns! E'er we set up for masters, it were well Did we ourselves still practise what we teach.

ARUNS.

Thou, with thy musty rules!—Patience herself, At opening of thy mouth, would stop her ears, Or run away fast as her heels could bear her, Pour in thy potions, Titus; his hot blood Wants cooling medicines, sedative morality. Sextus, attend; thy fever shall abate, And thou shalt fall into a leaden slumber: And so I leave you both, either to other. Wise leach, may Phoebus aid thee at thy need! So shall thy patient's health be sound as thine.

[Exit.

SEXTUS.

Adieu, dissatisfied, and chiding humorist!

TITUS.

Did I not tell thee what I fear'd would follow?

SEXTUS.

I pr'ythee, do not thou reproach me too; Rather advise me in this hour of danger How I had best dispose myself; to leave The camp, would argue fear, would argue shame; Nor would I mid the rabble so exalt Their self-conceit, to think I aught could do To make me in their presence hang my head For one, or t'other cause. Besides, I doubt not, But that our father's ever-ready mind, Which like the sierce tide 'gainst the rushing tempest Still rises stronger meeting opposition, Will prompt him with the means of wish'd success. That he will gain admittance into Rome I little question; and should Brutus turn A different way toward the camp, those bands, Which with strict orders watch each avenue, Will render us as good account of him.

[A Shout.

What sound is that? Methought it was a shout As of a multitude.

TITUS.

It was; perhaps the guards Have taken Brutus prisoner, or slain him.

Enter CLAUDIUS.

CLAUDIUS.

Fly, fly, my Lords! Brutus is in the camp; I saw him with these eyes; he waves aloft The bloody dagger; all the soldiers hear him With wildest admiration and applause. He speaks, as if he held the souls of men In his own hand, and moulded them at pleasure.

They look on him as they would view a god, Who, from a darkness which invested him, Springs forth, and knitting his stern brow in frowns, Proclaims the vengeful doom of angry Jove. Herminius and Horatius too have join'd him. All cry aloud, Revenge! Revenge on Tarquin! Death to his sons!—Fly! fly! and save yourselves!

TITUS.

Herminius and Horatius! Traitors.—How Pass'd he the guards?

CLAUDIUS.

They brought him in triumphant.

TITUS.

Where's Aruns?

CLAUDIUS.

He is fled, my Lord, to Caere, And bids you follow him with utmost haste.

TITUS.

Whither wilt thou?

SEXTUS.

I shall straitway to Gabii, As to a safe asylum. Fare thee well!

TITUS.

Farewel to Sextus!—Oh, pernicious fortune! From this day forth, I date the utter ruin Of Tarquin and his sons.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

The Walls of Rome.

TARQUIN at the Gate; above, LUCRETIUS, COLLA|TINUS, VALERIUS, and Roman People.

LUCRETIUS.

Whate'er he says to you, ye gentle Romans, Let me intreat you answer not a word. Who's he that asks admittance?

TARQUIN.

Am I then Alter'd so much of late, that old Lucretius Knows not his king? Why are these gates fast barr'd? And who is it that dares refuse me entrance?

LUCRETIUS.

This shall I answer strait. As for my king I know thee not: tho' Tarquin well I know, And know him for a tyrant, who long time, Many a dreadful year of servitude, Held Rome inslaved; against that cruel tyrant These gates are barr'd; those who refuse him entrance Are all the Roman people, who have dared Proclaim him banish'd from their land for ever.

TARQUIN.

Is this thy gratitude, old man? From me Thou hadst th' authority thou now usurp'st, The government of Rome.

LUCRETIUS.

When thou wert king I held from thee the government, I own it. Thou from the people then didst hold thy crown, Who've since deposed thee; from the people now I hold the interregal dignity. When Brutus from the camp shall with him bring Th' enfranchis'd army, if to him and Collatine, As they've determin'd, they deliver up The delegated trust, their future consuls, I shall with readiness and pleasure yield Into their hands my transitory sway.

TARQUIN.

Had any others in the Roman state Fomented mid the people this rebellion, I should not thus have wonder'd: but that you, You three, whom I've admitted to my councils,

Loaded with honours, dignities, and gifts Of price, that you should, with th' ingrateful Brutus, Whom as my child I've foster'd, join to ruin Your gracious master, and kind benefactor, Is one of those strange accidents I labour In vain to reconcile to probability.

LUCRETIUS.

For all the various favours I've received From Tarquin and his race, I am most grateful; But chiefly grateful for my murder'd daughter.

COLLATINE.

I for my ravish'd and self-slaughter'd wife.

VALERIUS.

I, in the name of all the Roman people, Confess my gratitude; the many favours On them bestow'd, now for these many a year My greatest happiness have constituted. For Brutus, who is absent, let me thank thee, Both for his murder'd father and his brother.

TARQUIN.

Oh, Collatine, Lucretius, all the powers Who rule this universe can witness for me, How I detest that hateful deed; none feels More for the injured father and the husband; None curses more the impious perpetrator, Though from these loins he sprang, than I myself. No; let the criminal bear all the weight Of your just vengeance; let him be brought forth Before the Roman people, stand his trial, As by my royal word I swear he shall, Were he three times my son; and is his death Decreed, he surely dies. But must the innocent Be with the guilty punish'd? Must the father Bear the son's crimes? the crimes which he abhors? Yes, when I heard the tale, Lucretius,

I started back with horror, while my heart Wept tears of blood.

LUCRETIUS.

Such tears thou shedd'st over thy poison'd brother.

COLLATINE.

Such o'er thy wife, brought to her timeless end.

VALERIUS.

Such tears thou shedd'st over thy good old king.

LUCRETIUS.

Such over each assassinated noble.

COLLATINE.

Such over every murder'd Roman knight.

VALERIUS.

Such over every death-doom'd citizen.

TARQUIN.

How much you wrong my nature, you yourselves Shall be the living judges. Prove my mercy, Return to your allegiance, reconcile To my authority the ductile croud By you seduced: do this, and here I swear, In presence of the gods, by every tie Which binds mankind, my eyes shall overlook All that is pass'd; nay more, I will submit me To your advice in all things, nor shall ought That you can ask, not be by me perform'd.

LUCRETIUS.

Canst thou restore my daughter to my arms?

COLLATINE.

Canst thou call forth my wife from her dark tomb?

VALERIUS.

Canst thou bring back to life ten thousand Romans, By thy ambition slain, or cruelty?

TARQUIN.

Oh, Romans! Oh, my countrymen! to you Do I appeal from these injurious men.

Lo, here I stand, helpless, and destitute, Imploring pity only, where I ought To claim obedience; prayers are th' arms I use, Does this bespeak a tyrant?—See these locks, Grey with the cares of government! these rather Bespeak the father. I have govern'd you For five and twenty years, during which time I've fought your battles 'gainst your enemies, From whom you have return'd with honour crown'd, Loaded with spoils. I'm cover'd o'er with scars, For you received; for ill doth he deserve The name of royalty, who braves not peril, Who shrinks affrighted at the frown of death, Yet tells his subjects he's not terrible, And bids them meet the fury face to face. For you, and for your glory, hath my life Been still employ'd, I'm wearied out with toil Endured for you. To raise your name abroad, And make each kingdom round you mention Rome, And what belongs to Rome with awe—All this I've done for you. For you have borne the frost Of keen December, and for you sustain'd The torrid dog-star. Have I ever hoarded My share o'th' plunder? Fill'd my treasury With stuff which I despised, but as it served To add to Rome new lustre?—Look behind you! Are not for you these sumptuous buildings rais'd? And for your honour? Let the gods themselves Declare my motives, who now dwell in temples Fitting their dignity, and Rome's magnificence. For which of these my works am I exiled? Oh, you have been deceived, grossly deceived! If I'm accus'd of any fancied crimes Artfully lodged against me; till the time You bid me reign, I shall, as it behoves me,

Lay by my crown. Admit me then unarm'd; Thus as a suppliant, with his naked head, Admit your king; he begs at your tribunal To plead his cause; he asks but common justice; But to be heard, before he is condemn'd.

LUCRETIUS.

Who can refrain from laughter at this sight? Tarquin, the most unjust of mortal men, Requiring justice; Tarquin who ne'er heeded A suppliant's prayers, or in his wrath remember'd Sweet mercy, asking pity of a people, Whom he hath ever harrass'd with oppression? Their glory didst thou seek? No, 'twas thy own, Proud man. Hadst thou thy people's glory sought, Or hadst thou truly known wherein thy own Consisted, thou would'st have desired to see them Happy and free. What glory e'er did slaves Receive from conquest? Or what happiness Can slaves enjoy, seeing a splendid palace Or gorgeous temple?—While within the heart Freedom sits not inthron'd, and in that shrine, Where heaven's pure flame should dwell, lurks discontent, And struggling, though depress'd, the generous ardor They from their ancestors inherited, What Roman is alive to any thought But one, the secret wish of righteous vengeance? Retire, false wretch, odious to gods and men, Retire, e'er 'tis too late, lest, now provok'd, We ope our gates indeed, and rushing on thee, Thy sentence change from banishment to death.

Enter CLAUDIUS to TARQUIN.

CLAUDIUS.

I come, sent by the princess—

TARQUIN.

In thy face I read thy news; draw nearer and disclose it; But whisper low, that none may over-hear thee.

CLAUDIUS.

The guards, instead of seizing Brutus, brought him Into the camp; he gain'd the soldiers there, As he before had gain'd the citizens: Titus and Aruns are to Caere fled, Sextus to Gabii; Brutus is at hand, With all the cavalry; if you delay, My gracious lord, a moment, you are lost.

TARQUIN.

Ye factious demagogues! and stubborn people! Once more attend your king! This messenger Brings me advice, the army is at hand To aid their master; Brutus, the arch-rebel, Is by their loyal ardor done to death; Now then prepare to feel the utmost weight Of my avengement; if I enter in In all my terror, by th' immortal gods, I will have no remorse; I'll shew no pity; I'll decimate the rebel crew, your limbs Shall feed the foxes, and each bird obscene, Unburied, scatter'd o'er the blood-stain'd earth. What do ye tremble?—Yet deluded people, If e'er the army come you ope your gates, Throw down your wearpons, ask my clemency; You shall, as little as you have deserv'd it, Or may expect such clemency from me,

All meet with mercy and a gracious pardon; Nay, and at your request, I'll spare your leaders, Provided they exile themselves from Rome.

VALERIUS.

Tyrant, thou speak'st in vain, thy artifice Is shallow, and pierced through; I saw pale fear Sit on the chalk'd face of thy messenger. The army can't degenerate so far From those brave men whom they have left behind; They are not from thy native place Tarquinii, But Romans born, and will with joy receive Him who proclaims them free.—But should he perish, Should Brutus (which avert, ye righteous powers!) Have fail'd in his great enterprize, and met A glorious death (glorious in such a cause, And hallow'd, though by th' hands of villains slain, Of regal fools;) know, Tarquin, there are still Enough t' assume the part which he began; Not one, but fifty Brutus's are here, Who will, in the defence of liberty, Resist thy power, till the last drop shall leave Their noble hearts: we are resolved, while life Is ours, to live like men; if die we must, As soon or late all shall, like men to die.

[Shout at a distance.

LUCRETIUS.

Hear, tyrant! hear! this is the sound of fate, Which peals forth thy destruction; 'tis the shout Of liberty, the signal of success; Brutus returns in triumph; let us all Prepare in worthy manner to receive Our great deliverer. This is the hour, By destiny decreed, to teach mankind, But chiefly guilty kings, that there are gods Who care for mortal deeds, and rule with justice

The realms of heaven above, and earth below.

[Exeunt.

TARQUIN.

Ye furies, glut yourselves! if there are gods, Who bend so much from their prerogative, To league with rebel subjects 'gainst their kings; Make sure your work! strike here! blast me at once! Use me, as I would use the Roman people, Were they all as one worm beneath my feet! Thus would I trample them, and thus.—I leave thee, High-towering city, keep thy bulwarks firm, With double strength cement thy stones together: For if I err not, I'll raise such a flame Throughout Hetruria, as shall not be quench'd Till thou and all thy sons be burnt as stubble Fired with one general blaze; should to their aid Their traitors' guardian gods descend, I'll bear The hurrying storm along the troubled air, By vengeance rais'd, impell'd by brave despair.

[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Rome.

BRUTUS and COLLATINUS as Consuls with Lictors, VA|LERIUS, LUCRETIUS, and others.

BRUTUS.

Indeed, my noble friends, you judge me rightly; These honours little move the mind of Brutus. Ne'er did I covet gew-gaws, or the farce Of wind-blown pomp. 'Tis not the purple robe, The curule chair, the lictors' keen-edg'd ax Inforcing homage, which e'er drew one thought Of mine aside. But to behold a state Deliver'd from oppression, to expel Base ignominious slavery, with those Who forg'd her chains for a free people's neck,

To see that people bless'd with liberty, And think that we shall hand down to our children The most invaluable gift of heaven, 'Twas this expectancy alone, which cast A light through that black shade in which I dwelt, And now this having seen, could I enjoy Th' assurance of its being still continued, Again, without a scruple, I'd retreat To my obscurity, known to myself Alone, hail'd by no tongue, seen by no eye.

VALERIUS.

That may not be; yet in her infancy, Her joints quite slack, unable to perform Their motions, and proceed alone, Rome wants Thy thinking head, thy executive hand, And father's care.—I will not say my joy Superior is to thine, but sure 'tis equal, At least the force of it can't strain a point Beyond its present stretch. Lucretius too, And Collatine, may now feel comfort, calm As a mild evening, when the sun looks forth Placidly shining, after the fierce storms Which overwhelm'd the day.

LUCRETIUS.

We do, we do.

COLLATINE.

Such fellow-feeling with my noble colleague, Methinks my spirit hath, that I almost, To see this hour, could venture to pass through Those agonies, which tore my soul in twain.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER.

All health to Rome! her senate! and her consuls!

BRUTUS.

Speak on what thou hast farther to impart.

MESSENGER.

I hither come, sent by th' inhabitants Of Gabii; they desire to mix with you Their share of pleasure, for your late success, And pray the gods you daily may increase In every earthly blessing. They intreat You'll still esteem them as your firm allies, And ancient friends. Chiefly they hail the man, Who first conceived, and dared, with brave resolve, Reduce to action what his mind inspired. Lastly, I bring advice of Sextus' death, Who came no sooner to the gates of Gabii, Without his usual train attending him, Than mindful of their injuries sustain'd, Resenting his most cruel deeds, to which They had been long unwilling witnesses, The populace surrounding him, with clubs And stones, the weapons which first came to hand, Slew the unpitied homicide.

BRUTUS.

This message Thou must deliver to th' assembled fathers, From them receive thy answer. Now, Lucretia, Thy ghost may cease to wander o'er the earth, And rest in peace.

LUCRETIUS.

Blessed inhabitants Of Gabii! Oh, ye gods, your ways are just! Now will I sit me down, and try to bear Hateful old age, th' affliction of mortality, But hastening on its remedy and cure.

COLLATINE.

Yet I regret the villain should be slain By any hand but mine.

Enter CLAUDIUS.

CLAUDIUS.

Is Brutus here? My business is with him.

BRUTUS.

Another messenger! I know thee well; disclose thy errand strait.

CLAUDIUS

I come from Aruns; what he bade me utter, If liberty of speech be granted me, I shall deliver.

BRUTUS.

Speak; thy words are free.

CLAUDIUS.

Then thus he says, tell Brutus, tell that traitor, That fool who was, that knave who ever will be; That should I meet him in the field of battle, Were his skull trebly thicker than it is, I'd thoroughly examine its contents. Is this denied me? When I bear the sway With Titus, which perhaps he may remember We earn'd together, I will send to Delphi, On purpose, for that cudgel he presented Unto the God; with which each day his shoulders Shall be so flay'd, that he shall wish his feign'd Were turn'd to real insensibility, Treated with this correction during life. Ask him too, if his bravery wars with women, And whether he hath slain the aged queen?

BRUTUS.

And dost thou bring no other message?

CLAUDIUS.

None.

BRUTUS.

'Tis worthy of the sender, and the sent. Go tell thy pleasant master, that I bear Jointly with Collatine, chief sway in Rome: Tell him the oracle is now fulfill'd; Tell him I kiss'd my mother when I fell, E'en in the very portico o'th' temple, The earth, the general parent of us all. And if 'twill farther please him, that the cudgel, I to the god presented, was an emblem Expressive of myself, a golden rod Beneath a case of wood. As to his threats, Tell him I heed them as the chiding gale, Or th' ocean wave beating at the fix'd base Of a high promontory. Though should I meet him Mid the ensanguin'd field in glorious fight, Engag'd for the great cause of liberty, I'll dare the proudest of my country's foes, And with the sword of vengeance, on his crest Engrave a mark indelible: tell him No Roman murders women: that we leave To Tarquin and his sons; even the croud Pursued her only through the streets with curses, Invok'd the furies of her parents on her, And saw her pass the city gate; so hence In safety go, to him who sent thee hither.

[Exit Claudius.

VALERIUS.

That missionary did but ill deserve So civil a discharge.

BRUTUS.

Were Aruns us, Neither would he have found it. Now, my friends, To-morrow will Horatius and Herminius, The Ardeates having to a truce agreed For fifteen years, lead all the army homeward.

Then in the common meeting of the people, Lest they should think two kings instead of one (Though chosen annually) may lord it o'er them; One of us, Collatine, will lay aside Our symbols of command, only resumed Alternate month by month. The good Papirius, King of the holy things, shall offer up Our general sacrifice, while we again, And every individual then assembled, Both for ourselves and our posterity, Renew our solemn oath ne'er to admit One of the Tarquin race. This night (more grateful Than clouds-of inconse) let our secret prayers, Our private gratitude, and thanks, ascend To the high-ruling powers. For howsoe'er, Vain man may think he plans with arduous care, 'Tis they alone his sentiments inspire, They fill his breast with more than mortal fire, 'Tis they alone light up the patriot flame, They lift the humble, and the haughty tame, They every human accident foresee, To them not accident, but certainty.

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