Appius and Virginia a tragedy / John Webster.

Actus Secundus Scena Prima. (Book 2)

Enter Clown whispering Virginia, after her M. Clodius with presents.

Virginia

SIrrah, go tell Calpharina, I am walking to take the air: intreat her company. Say I attend her coming.

Corbulo

Madam, I shall: but if you could walk abroad, and get an Heir, it were better, for your father hath a fair revenue, and never a son to inherit.

Virginia

You are, sirrah—

Corbulo

Yes I am sirrah: but not the party that is born to do that; though I have no Lorships, yet I have so much manners to give my betters place.

Virginia

Whom mean you by your betters?

Corbulo

I hope I have learnt to know the three degrees of compa∣rison: for though I be bonus, and you melior as well as mulier; yet my Lord Icilius is optimus.

Virginia

I see there's nothing in such private done, but you must inquire after.

Corbulo

And can you blame us (Madam) to long for the merry day, as you do for the merry night?

Virginia.

Will you be gone sir? (•…•…nd.

Corbula.

Oh yes, to my Lady 〈◊〉〈◊〉. I remember my er-

Vir.

My father's wondrous 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and withall

Exit Corbulo.

with a supprest rage left his house displeas'd, and so in post is hurried to the camp: it sads me much; to expell which melancholy, I have sent for company.

Enter Clodius and Musicians.

Clodius.

This opportunity was •…•…illy waited, it is the best part of a politician when he would compasse ought to fame his industry wisely to waite the advantage of the houres, his happie minutes are not alwayes present. Expresse your greatest art, Virginia hears you,

Song.

Vir.

Oh I conceive the occasion of this harmony. Icilius sent it, I must thank his kindnesse.

Clo.

Let not Virginia wate her contemplation so high, to call this visit an intrusion; for when she understands I tooke my message from one that did compose it with affection, I know she will not only extend pardon, but grace it with her favour.

Vir.

You mediate excuse for courtesies, as if I were so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of civi•…•…y, not to esteeme it worthy of my thanks; assure your selfe I could be longer patient to hear my eares so feasted.

Clo.

Ioyne all your voyces till you make the aire proud to usurpe your no•…•…s, and to please her with a sweet eccho; serve Virginias pleasure.

Song.

As you have been so full of gentlenesse to heare with patience what was brought to serve you so hearken with your usuall clemency •…•…o the relation of a lovers sufferings: your figure still does revell in his dreames, he banquets on your memory, yet findes not thoughts enough to satisfie his wishes, as if Virginia had compos'd his heart, and fills it with her beauty.

Vir.

I see he is a miser in his wishes, and thinks he never has enough of that which onely he possesses: but to give his wishes satisfaction, let him know his heart and mine do•…•… 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so near together,

that hourely they converse, and guard each other.

Clo.

Is faire Virginia confident she knowes her favour dwels with the same man I plead for?

Vir.

—Unto Icilius.

Clo.

Worthy faire one, I would not wrong your worth so to employ my language for a man so much beneath the merit of your beauty: he I plead for has power to make your beauty populous, your frowne shall awe the world, and in your smile great Rome shall build her happinesse; honour and wealth shall not be stil'd companions, but servants to your pleasure. Then shall Icilius (but a refin'd Citizen) boast your affection, when Lord Appius loves you.

Vir.

Blesse his great Lordship, I was much mistaken, let thy Lord know, thou Advocate of lust, all the intentions of that youth are honourable, whil'st his are fill'd with sensuality. And for a finall resolution know, our hearts in love like twins alike shall grow.

Exit.

Clo.

Had I a wife, or daughter that could please him I would devote her to him, but I must shadow this scorne, and sooth him still in lust.

Exit.

Enter six Souldiers.

1.

What newes yet of Virginius returne?

2.

Not any.

1.

O the misery of Souldiers! They doubly starve us with faire promises. We spread the earth like haile, or new reapt corne in this fierce famine; and yet patiently make our obedience the confined •…•…ile that starves us:

3.

Souldiers, let us draw our swords while we have strength to use them.

1.

'Tis a motion which nature and necessity commands.

Enter Minutius.

Minut.

Y'are of Virginius Regiment.

Omnes.

We are.

Minut.

Why doe you swarme in troopes thus? to your quarter. Is our command growne idle? to your trench. Come I'le divide you, this your conference is not without suspect of mutiny.

1.

Souldiers, shall I relate the grievances.

of the whole Regiment.

Omnes.

Boldly.

1.

Then thus my Lord.

Minut.

Come, I will not hear thee,

1.

Sir you shall: Sound all the Drums and Trumpets in the camp, to drowne my utterance, yet above them all I'le rear our just complaint. Stir not my Lord, I vow you are not safe if you but move a sinew till you heare us.

Minut.

Well sir, command us: you are the Generall.

1.

No my Lord, not I, I am almost starved; I wake in the wet trench, loaded with more cold iron then a Jaile would give a murderer, while the Generall sleeps in a field bed, and to mock our hunger feeds us with scent of the most curious fare that makes his tables crack, our pay detained by those that are our Leaders: and at once we in this sad, and unprepared plight, with the Enemy, and Famine daily sight.

Minut.

Doe you threaten us?

Omnes.

Sir you shall hear him out.

1.

You send us whips, and iron manackles, and shackles plenty, but the devill a coine. Would you would teach us that caniball trick, my Lord, which some rich men 'ith' City oft doe use: shall's one devoure another?

Minut.

Will you hear me?

1.

O Rome th'art growne a most unnaturall mother, to those have held thee by the golden locks from sinking into ruine; Romulus was fed by a she wolfe, but now our wolves instead of feeding us devoure our flesh, carouse our blood, yet are not drunk with it, for three parts of 't is water.

Minut.

Your Captaine, noble Virginius is sent Rome, for ease of all your grievances.

1.

'Tis false.

Omnes.

I, 'Tis false.

1.

Hee's stolne away from's, never to returne, and now his age will suffer him no more deale on the Enemy, belike hee'l •…•…rne an usurer, and in the City aire

cut poore mens throats at home sitting in's chaire.

Minut.

You wrong one of the honorablest Commanders.

Omnes.

Honorable Commander?

1.

Commander? I my Lord, there goes the thrist in victories, the Generall and Commanders share all the honour as they share the spoile; but in our overthrowes, where lies the blame? the common souldiers fault, ours is the shame. What is the reason that being so far distant from the affrighted enemy? wee lie 'ith' open field, subject to the sick humors of heaven and earth: unlesse you cood bestow two summers of us? shall I tell you truth, You account the expence of Ingines, and of swords, of horses and of armor dearer far, then souldiers lives.

Omnes.

Now by the gods you doe.

1.

Observe you not the ravens and the crowes have left the City surfet, and with us they make full banquets. Come you birds of death, and fill your greedy croppes with humane flesh; then to the City flie, disgorge it there before the Senate, and from thence arise a plague to choake all Rome. Omnes. And all the Suburbs▪

Minut.

Upon a souldiers word, bold Gentlemen, I expect every houre Virginius to bring fresh comfort.

Omnes.

Whom? Virginius?

1.

Now by the gods, if ever he returne, wee'le drag him to the slaughter by his locks, turned white with riot and incontinence, and leave a president to all the world, how Captaines use their souldiers.

Enter Virginius.

Minut.

See, hee's returned▪ Virginius, you are not safe, retire, your troopes are mutinous, we are begirt with Enemies more daring, and more fierce, then is the common foe.

Virg.

My Troopes, my Lord?

Minut.

Your life is threatned by these desperate men, betake you to your horse.

Virg.

My noble Lord, I never yet p•…•…oiest to teach the art of •…•…ying. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, out troopes grown mutinous?

he dares not look on me with half a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that spread this wildfire. Where is our Lieutenant?

Val.

My Lord.

Virg.

Sirrah, order our companies.

Minut.

What do you mean, my Lord?

Virg.

Take air a little, they have heated me. Sirrah, i'st you will mutiny?

3.

Not I Sir.

Virg.

Is your gall burst, you Traitor?

4.

The gods defend Sir.

Virg.

Or is your stomack sea sick, doth it rise? I'l make a passage for it.

5.

Noble Captain, I'l dye beneath your foot.

Virg.

You rough porcupine, ha. do you bristle, do you shoot your quils you rogue?

1.

They have no points to hurt you, noble Captain.

Virg.

Wast you (my nimble shaver) that would whet your sword 'gainst your Commanders throat, you sirrah?

6.

My Lord I never dream't on't.

Virg.

Slaves and cowards, what are you cholerick now? by the gods the way to purge it were to let you blood. I am i'th' center of you, and I'l make the proudest of you teach the Aspen leaf to tremble, when I breath.

Minut.

A strange Conversion.

Virg.

Advance your pikes. The word,

Omnes.

Advance your pikes.

Virg.

See noble Lord these are no Mutineers, these are obedient souldiers, civil men: You shal command these, if your Lordship please, to fil a ditch up with their slaughtered bodies, that with more ease you may assault some Town. So now lay down your Arms. Villains and Traitors, I here cashier you. Hence from me my poison, not worthy of our Discipline: Go beg, go beg, you mutinous rogues, brag of the service you ne'er durst look on; it were charity to hang you, for my mind gives, y'are reserv'd to rob poor market women.

Minut.

O Viginius.

Virg.

I do beseech you to confirm my sentence, as you respect me. I will stand my self for the whole Regiment, and safer far in mine owne single valour, then begirt

with cowards and with traitors.

Minut.

O my Lord, you are too severe.

Virg.

Now by the gods, my Lord, you know no discipline, to pitie them. Pretious divells? no sooner my back turn'd, but presently to mutinie?

Omnes:

dear Captaine.

Virg.

Refuse me if such traiterous rogues would not confound an Army. When doe you march? when doe you march, gentlemen?

1.

My Lord, wee'l starve first, wee'le hang first, by the gods, doe any thing ere wee'le forsake you.

Minut.

Good Virginius, limit your passion.

Virg.

Sir, you may take my place, not my just anger from me: these are they have bred a dearth i'th' campe: I'le wish our foes no greater plague then to have their company: show but among them all so many scars as stick upon this flesh, I'le pardon them.

Minut.

How now, my Lord, breathlesse?

Virg.

By your favour. I ha said. Mischiefs confound me if I could not wish my youth renewed againe, with all her sollies, onely to'ave breath enough to raile against these—'Tis too short.

Minut.

See Gentlemen, what strange distraction your falling off from duty hath begot in this most noble souldier: You may live the meanest of you to command a Troope, and then in others youle correct those faults, which in your selves you cherisht, every Captain beares in his private government that forme, which Kings should ore their Subjects, and to them should be the like obedient. We confesse you have been distrest: but can you justly challenge any commander that hath surfeted, while that your food was limited? You cannot.

Virg.

My Lord, I have shared with them an equall for▪ hunger, and cold, marcht thorough watery fens, tune, borne as great burdens as the pioneer, when scarce the ground would bear me.

Minut.

Good my Lord, give us leave to proceed; the punishment your Captaine hath inflicted

is not sufficient; for it cannot bring any example to succeeding 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of pennance worth your faulting: happily it may in you beget a certaine shame; But it will in others a strong hope of the like lenity. Yet gentlemen, you have in one thing given me such a taste of your obedience; when the fire was raised of fierce sedition, and the cheeke was swolne to sound the fatall Trumpet, then the sight of this your worthy Captaine did disperse all those unfruitfull humours, and even then convert you from feirce Tigers to stayed men: we therefore pardon you, and doe restore your Captaine to you, you unto your Captaine.

Omnes.

The gods requite you, noble Generall.

Minut.

My Lord, my Lord:

Omnes.

Your pardon noble Captaine.

Virg.

Well, you are the Generall, and the fault is quit, a souldiers teares, an elder brothers wit have little falt in them, nor doe they season things worth observing, for their want of reason. Take up your armes and use them, doe I pray, ere long youle take your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to run away.

Minut.

And what supply from Rome?

Virg.

Good store of corne.

Minut.

What entertainment there?

Virg.

Most honourable, especially by the Lord Appius. There is great hope that Appius will grow the souldiers patron: with what vehemency he urg'd our wants, and with what expedition he hasted the supplies, it is almost i•…•…redible. There's promis'd to the souldier besides their corne a bounteous donative;

(A shout.

but 'tis not certaine yet when't shall be paid.

Minut.

How for your owne particular?

Virg.

My Lord, I was not enter•…•…d fully two pikes length into the Senate, but they all stood bare, and each man offer'd me his seat: The businesse for which I went dispatcht, what guifts, what favours were done me, your good Lordship shall not hear, for you would wonder at them, onely this,

'twould make a man fight up to'th' neck in blood, to think how nobly he shall be received when he returnes to'th' City.

Minut.

'Tis well, give order the provision be divided and sent to every quarter.

Virg.

Sir, it shall. Thus men must flight their wrongs, or else conceal them, when generall safety wills us not reveale them.

Exeunt.

Enter two Petitioners at one doore, at the other M. Clodius.

1. Petit.

Pray is your Lord at leasure?

M. Clodius.

What is your suite?

1. Pet.

To accept this poore Petition which makes knowne, my many wrongs in which I crave his Justice, and upright sentence to support my cause, which else is trod downe by oppression.

M. Clodius.

My Lords hand is the prop of Innocence, and if your cause be worthy his supportance it cannot fall.

1. Petitioner.

The gods of Rome protect him.

Clodius.

What, is your paper too petitionary?

2. Petit.

It leanes upon the Justice of the Judge, your noble Lord, the very stay of Rome.

Clodius.

And surer basis, for a poore mans cause, she cannot yeeld. Your papers I'le deliver, and when my Lord ascends the Judgement seate, you shall find gracious comfort.

Enter Icilius troubled.

Icilius.

Where's your Lord?

Clodius.

Icilius? faire Virginia's late betroth'd?

Icilius.

Your eares, I hope, you have not forfeited, that you returne no answer. Where's your Lord?

Clodius.

At's studie.

Icilius.

I desire admittance to him.

Clodius.

Please you attend, I'le know his Lordships pleasure. Icilius? I pray heaven she have not blab'd.

Icilius.

Attend? a petty Lawyer t'other day, glad of a fee, but cal'd to eminent place, even to his betters, now the word's, Attend. This gowned office, what a breadth it bears? how many tempests waite upon his frowne?

Enter Clodius.

Clodius.

All the petitioners withdraw. L. Appius

must have this place more private▪ as a favour, reserv'd for you, Icilius. Here's my Lord.

Enter Appius with Lictors afors him.

Appius.

Be gone, this place is only spar'd for us, and you Icilius. Now your business.

Icil.

May I speak it freely?

App.

We have suffering ears, A heart the sof•…•…est downe may penetrate. Proceed.

Icil.

My Lord.

App.

We are private, Pray your courtefie.

Icil.

My duty.

App.

Leave that to th' publick eye of Rome, and of Romes people. Clodius there.

Clod.

My Lord.

App.

Place me a second Chaire; that done, remove your self. So now, your absence Clodius. Icilius sit, this grace we make not common unto the noblest Romane, but to you our love affords it freely. Now your suit?

Icil.

It is, you would be kind unto the Camp.

App.

Wherein, Icilius, doth the Camp touch thee?

Icil.

Thus: Old Virginius, now my father in Law, kept from the publick pay, consumes himself, sels his Revenues, turnes his plate to coyn, to wage his souldiers, and supply the Camp, wasting that useful substance which indeed should rise to me, as my Virginia's Dowry.

App.

We meet that opposition thus Icilius. The Camps supplies doth not consist in us, but those that keep the common Treasury; speak or intreat we may, but not command. But Sir, I wonder, you so brave a Youth, son to a thrifty Romane, should ally you, and knit your strong armes to such falling branches; which rather in their ruine will bear down your strength, then you support their rottenness. Be swayed by me, fly from that ruinous house. whose fall may crush you; and contract with mine, whose bases are of Marble, deeply fixt to •…•…uger all gusts and impending stormes. Ca•…•… off that beggars daughter, poor Virginia, whose dowry and beauty, I'l see trebled both,

in one •…•…lly'd to me. Smile you Icilius?

Icil.

My Lord, my Lord, think you, I can imagine your close and sparing hand can be profuse to give that man a Palace, whom you late deny'd a cottage? Will you from your own coffers grant me a treble Dowry, yet interpose me a poor third from the common Treasury? You must move me by possibilities, for I have brains; give first your hand and Seal, that old Virginius shall receive his pay both for himself and souldiers, and that done, I shall perhaps be soon induc'd to think, that you who with such willingness did that—

App.

Is my Love mispriz'd?

Icil.

Not to Virginia.

App.

Virginia?

Icil.

Yes Virginia, Lustful Lord. I did but trace your cunning all this while. You would bestow me on some Appian Trull, and for that dross to cheat me of my Gold; for this the Camp pines, and the City smarts. All Rome fares worse for thy incontinence.

App.

Mine boy?

Icil.

Thine Judg. This hand hath intercepted thy Letters, and perus'd thy tempting guests, these ears have heard thy amorous passions, wretch, these eyes beheld thy treacherous name subscrib'd. A Judg, a Divel.

App.

Come I'•…•…hear no more.

Icil.

Sit still, or by the powerful Gods of Rome I'l nail thee to the Chair. But suffer me, I'l offend nothing but thine ears.

App.

Our Secretary.

Icil.

Tempt not a Lovers fury, if thou dost now by my vow, insculpt in heaven, I'l send thee.—

App.

You see I am patient.

Icil.

But withal revengeless.

App.

So, say on.

Icil.

Hope not of any grace, or the least favour, I am so covetous of Virginia's love, I cannot spare thee the least look, glance, touch. Divide one bare imaginary thought into a thousand, thousand parts, and that I'l not afford thee.

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App.

Thou shalt not.

Icil.

Nay, I will not. Hadst thou a Judges place above those Judges that judg all souls, having power to sentence me, I would not bribe thee, no not with one hair from her fair temples.

App.

Thou shouldst not.

Icil.

Nay, I would not. Think not her Beauty shall have leave to crown thy lustfull hopes with the least spark of blisse, or have thine ears charm'd with the ravishing sound even of her harshest phrase.

App.

I will not.

Icil.

Nay, thou shalt not. Shee's mine, my soul is crownd in her desire, to her I'ld travell through a land of fire.

App.

Now have you done?

Icil.

I have spoke my thoughts.

App.

Then will thy fury give me leave to speak?

Icil.

I pray say on.

App.

Icilius, I must chide you, and withall tell you, your rashnesse hath made forfeiture even of your precious life, which wee esteeme too deer to call in question. I•…•… I wisht you of my allyance, graft into my blood, condemn you me for that? Oh see the rashnesse and blind misprision of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 youth! As for the Maid Virginia, wee are far even in least thought from her; and for those Letters, Tokens and Presents, wee acknowledg none. Alas, though great in place, wee are not gods. If any false impostor hath usurpt our hand or greatnesse in his own behoof, can wee help that? Icilius, there's our hand, your rashnesse we remit; let's have hereafter your love and best opinion. For your suit, repair to us at both our better leisures, wee'l breathe in it new life.

Icil.

I crave your •…•…don.

App.

Granted ere crav'd, my good Icilius.

Icil.

—Morrow.

App.

It is no more indeed. Morrow Icilius. If any of our servants wait, without, command them in.

Icil.

I shall.

App.

Our Secretary, we have use for him. Icilius, send him hither. Again good morrow.

Exit Icilius.

Go to thy death, thy life is doom'd and cast. Appius be circumspect, and be not rash in blood as th'art in lust: Be murderous stil, but when thou strik'st, with unseen weapons kill.

Enter Clodius.

Clod.

My Honourable Lord.

Appius.

Deride me, dog?

Clod.

Who hath stirr'd up this tempest in your brow?

App.

Not you? Fie, you?

Clod.

All you Panthean Gods, confound me, if my soul be accessary to your distractions.

Appius.

To send a ruffian higher, even to my closet, first, to brave my Greatness, play with my beard, revile me, taunt me, hisse me; nay after all these deep disparagements, threat me with steel, and menace me unarm'd, to nail me to my seat, if I but mov'd: all these are slight, slight toyes.

Clod.

Icilius do this?

App.

Ruffian Icilius, he that in the front of a smooth Citizen, bears the rugged soul of a most base Bandetto.

Clod.

He shall die for't.

App.

Be not too rash.

Clo.

Were there no more men to support great Rome, even falling Rome should perish, ere he stand: I'l after him, and kill him.

App.

Stay, I charge thee. Lend me a patient ear; To right our wrongs, we must not menace with a publick hand; we stand in the worlds eye, and shall be taxt of the least violence, where we revenge: We should smile smoothest where our hate's most deep, and when our spleen's broad waking, seem to sleep. Let the young man play still upon the bit, till we have brought and train'd him to our lure; Great men should strike but once, and then strike sure.

Clod.

Love you Virginia still?

App.

Do I still live?

Clod.

Then she's your own. Virginius is, you say, still in the Camp.

App.

True.

Clod.

Now in his absence will I claim Virginia to be the daughter of a bond woman, and slave to me; to prove which, I'l produce firme proofs, notes probable, sound Witnesses; then having with your Lictors summond her, I'l bring the cause before your Judgement Seat, where, upon my infallid evidence, you may pronounce the sentence on my side, and she become your Strumpet not your Bride.

App.

Thou hast a copius brain, but how in this shall we dispose Icilius?

Clod.

If he spurne clap him up close, there's wayes to charm his spleen. By this no scandal can redound to you; the Cause is mine; you but the Sentencer upon that evidence which I shall bring. The business is, to 'ave Warrants by Arrest. to answer such things at the Judgment Bar as can be laid against her; Ere her friends can be assembled, ere her self can study her answer or scarce know her cause of summons to descant on the matter, Appius may examine, try, and doom Virginia. But all this must be sudden.

App.

Thou art born to mount me high above Icilius scorn. I'l leave it to thy manage.

Exeunt.

Explicit Actus secundus.