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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36214-8.txt b/36214-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7e2677 --- /dev/null +++ b/36214-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3511 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Virginia, A Tragedy, by Marion Forster Gilmore + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Virginia, A Tragedy + And Other Poems + +Author: Marion Forster Gilmore + +Release Date: May 24, 2011 [EBook #36214] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA, A TRAGEDY *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, David E. Brown, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + + + + + + + + + VIRGINIA + A Tragedy + + AND OTHER POEMS + + MARION FORSTER GILMORE + + + + + VIRGINIA + + A Tragedy + + AND + + OTHER POEMS + + BY + + MARION FORSTER GILMORE + + JOHN P. MORTON & COMPANY + Incorporated + + LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY + 1910 + + + COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY + MARION FORSTER GILMORE + + + + +Dedication + + + TO MY FATHER + + Years can not cloud the light of your clear eyes, + Steadfast and bright with high integrity; + Nor rob your spirit of the strength that lies + On those firm lips; nor dim the purity + Of a high soul, which bears the shield of Love + Untarnished, as it was upon the day + When One, with tender faith, desired to prove + Her "Royal Knight," and gave her heart away. + Bear her bright shield, and smile, as years roll by-- + Years that have crowned you with the priceless crown + Of steadfast faith and worldwide charity-- + Until you reap the joy that you have sown, + In that near land, where, with a light divine, + The eyes you love through all the ages shine. + + + + +[Thanks are due to the proprietors of The Cosmopolitan Magazine and +Leslie's Weekly, for their courtesy in allowing the republication herein +of a number of poems which have previously appeared in issues of their +copyrighted magazines.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + VIRGINIA 1 + + + Stewardship 61 + + The Sea Gull 62 + + Mt. Vernon 63 + + My Mother 64 + + The Cradle Song 64 + + Out of the Dark 65 + + Niobe 66 + + To the Genius of Death, by Canova 66 + + To the Winged Victory of Samothrace 67 + + Beatrice Triumphant 68 + + The Call of the Irish Sea 68 + + The Lion of Lucerne 69 + + Sonnet to Niagara Falls 70 + + The Lost Heart 70 + + Is He Not Mine? 71 + + Two Gifts 71 + + The Moonflower 72 + + Three Kisses 72 + + A Song of the West 73 + + To Esther 74 + + The Thrush 75 + + The Light of the Star 76 + + The Message of the Pines 77 + + The Lost Sunbeam 78 + + Heritage 79 + + + + +VIRGINIA + +A Tragedy + + + + +CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY + + APPIUS CLAUDIUS, + Chief of the Ten and lawgiver of the Romans. + + MARCUS CLAUDIUS, + His client. + + OPPIUS, + One of the Ten. + + VIRGINIUS, + A Roman centurion; a plebeian. + + ICILIUS, + A tribune of the commons and lover to Virginia. + + SICINIUS, + A plebeian soldier and an enemy of the Decemvirs. + + HORATIUS, + GALBA, + MARIUS, + HORTENSIUS, + Four Roman citizens. + + TIBERIUS, + A boy of noble birth; brother to Cornelia. + + THE TEN DECEMVIRS. + + A PORTER. + + + VIRGINIA, + Daughter of Virginius. + + CORNELIA, + A patrician lady, secretly betrothed to Sicinius. + + CAMILLA, + Nurse to Virginia. + + JULIA, + A maid. + + A SIBYL. + + A SLAVE GIRL IN THE HOUSE OF APPIUS CLAUDIUS. + + SOLDIERS, LICTORS, WOMEN, RABBLE, AND SERFS. + + + _Setting--Rome._ _Time--During Supremacy of the Decemvirs._ + + + ACT I--Scene I--The Forum. Scene II--A Street in Rome. + + ACT II--Scene I--The House of Appius. Scene II--Women's + Apartments in the House of Virginius. Scene III--Garden in House + of Virginius. Scene IV--Home of Cornelia. + + ACT III--Scene I--The Forum. Scene II--Home of Virginius. Scene + III--The Forum. + + + + +VIRGINIA + +A Tragedy + + + + +ACT I. + + +Scene I--The Forum. + + _A multitude of citizens gathered therein. Disturbance shown + among them by sullen looks and murmurings. Four citizens, two in + patrician and two in plebeian garments, confer together._ + + _1st Cit._ Enough, enough! I see we all agree + Upon this common cause of our grievance; + Our ranks, our unmixed blood, our differences, + Are all forgotten--nay, methinks they shall + In time together mingle when our blood + Shall be poured forth in this most righteous cause. + + _2nd Cit._ As ever art thou eloquent, O Marius, + And just; Brutus himself were not more so. + Patrician and plebeian, equalized + By common woe, together whisper menace + To those who work such havoc as, indeed, + Was never known in Rome until to-day. + + _3rd Cit._ Ye two are nobles; we, the commons are; + Yet all are leveled by the grief we feel + For Rome, our mother city, who so low + Hath fall'n. Hark! the multitude itself + Is wroth as we, yet, e'en as we, it lacks + The courage needful for this fierce occasion. + + _4th Cit._ Ay, list indeed! Mark how the murmur swells! + + [_They turn, and follow with their eyes the gaze of the Roman + mob._ + + _Voices of lictors_ (_without_). Make way, ye Romans, way for the + noble Ten! + + _3rd Cit._ Pah! they announce them like to royal kings! + + _1st Cit._ Tyrants are ceremonious to the letter. + + _Multitude._ All hail to the lawgivers! Life and peace + Unto the Ten! + + _2nd Cit._ Jove's lightning strike them down, + The turncoats! Ah, the cowards and the curs! + Perfidious gang of fawners! Do they thus + Forget their wrongs in the wrongdoer's presence, + Or veil them with that slime, false loyalty? + + [_Enter the Ten Decemvirs, each preceded by twelve lictors armed + with fasces._ + + _4th Cit._ Lo! the presumption! How each lictor bears + Amongst his rods an axe to indicate + That life and death lie in his master's word. + Once was each tyrant pleased with one attendant + The way to clear--now must they number twelve. + + [_The Decemvirs pause a space, the while their leader, Appius + Claudius, addresses the assembled citizens._ + + _Appius._ Ye Roman citizens! Unto our ears + Murmurings hath arrived laden with strife; + And though this day ye have protested loud + Your loyalty, and hailed us with acclaim, + Ye seem but ill-content. This must not be. + We have been lenient to every class-- + What ye demand in reason ye receive. + Ye called for written laws, and lo! they hang + Within the Forum that all eyes may read. + Yet, mark ye! Read not only, but obey, + Else blood shall pour in torrents on these stones. + + [_Low, angry murmur._ + + What! would ye show your teeth, ye nobles brave, + Would bare your fangs, O ye plebeian dogs! + Your teeth are drawn, patricians, and your fangs + Are dull, indeed, ye curs! [_A hissing protest._ + What, open schism? + Ho, lictors, strike! Ah! would ye calmer grow? + Lictors, enough! Now must we on. Our time + Is pressing. + + [_As he is on the point of departing with his colleagues, his + gaze is arrested by the passing of a girl, clad all in white, + attended by her nurse, through the Forum._ + + (_To a companion._) Now, by the ghost of Ixion, behold + Yon perfect vision of most perfect beauty. + Enchanting grace! Exquisite featuring! + Youth lightly shadowed by young womanhood! + My passions, Oppius, are all awake. + Aflame and spreading fast! Why, I would burn + All Rome to own her, touch her, feel her near; + I would receive the curses of the gods, + Be hurled to lowest Hades, and endure + The tortures set for Tantalus himself + If I might call her mine. Her kiss would prove + Sufficient food for me, her liquid eyes + Would quench my thirst if I should look within + And see the tears or draw the starry light + Into my soul! O, Appius, ye are stricken! + + _Oppius._ Peace, peace, mine Appius, the maid is gone-- + Thy looks are wild, thy features are convulsed + With passion. + + _1st Cit._ See, Hortensius, yon man? + What ails him? Like a madman is his gaze, + And horrid is his flaming countenance. + + _Oppius._ Come, brother, come, my colleague, let's away. + + _Appius._ Hands off, O, foolish man, for I am dead + To protest. I have been by lightning stricken. + + _Oppius._ It is, indeed, too passionate to be + The wound from Eros' feathered shaft. + + _Appius_ (_groaning_). Ah! God! + Where has she gone? I can not see her face + Nor matchless form within the dreary crowd, + Women I spy in plenty. What a mob + Of uncouth shapes and homely featuring + These females are! She was a Cynthia, + And all beside her, hideous and bold + Bacchantes. I'll a lictor straight despatch, + To seize on her, for she belongs to me. + + _Oppius._ Nay, fool! Rash fool! Thou art not Jupiter + In power, that thou darest thus to seize, + In open daylight, objects of thy lust, + When they are daughters of free citizens. + Some shadow of excuse must herald such + Bold actions, lest the rabble rise in arms, + As in the days of fair Lucretia! + Thou canst presume, and yet in thy presumption + Play the sly part of virtue, ay, and justice, + Nor seem a mad and bigoted abductor. + I know the maid; a blameless child of one + Virginius, a soldier and a pleb. + Wait, wait, and on the morrow form thy plans, + But for this moment let the matter rest, + If thou art prudent. Come, let's on; the mob + Follows thy gaze, noting thy steadfast look. + + _Appius._ Speed morrow then. For I am now no better + Than madman; I, who hold the whole of Rome + Under my thumb, am raving only for + Nor heaven nor earth, nor power, nay, nor fame, + But for the captivation of a maid-- + But for Virginia. Onward, let us on! + I'll march into the grim, gray gates of eve + And meet the morrow ere it hath arisen, + Tear down the portals of the night and force + My way into the chamber where the morn + Dozes, a lovely slothful soul of hope, + And seizing on her, madly I'll demand + Virginia! [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II--A STREET IN ROME. + + _Enter Marius and Horatius, two patricians._ + + _Marius._ He dared! he dared! he dared! + + _Horatius._ And will dare more, + Until Rome wakens from her lethargy + And is herself again. + + _Marius._ Till then we wait, + Enduring insult, tyranny, from him, + The common enemy of nobleman + And pleb. + + _Horatius._ Alas! once was he common friend + To both--our lawgiver; what changed him so? + + _Marius._ A worm of pride that gnawed into his heart, + A blast of fiery desert wind that dried, + Withered and seared his noble disposition. + To-day he is a monster, where he was + But yesterday a leader and a god. + + _Horatius._ He angered the patricians by his show + Of democratic policy; the plebs + By barring intermarriage 'twixt the two + Opposing classes! [_Enter Virginius and Icilius._ + + _Virginius._ Blessings, health to you! + Good wishes of a Roman unto Romans. + + _Horatius_ (_bitterly_). Say rather, helpless, sullen, brooding curs! + We are no more--methinks _thou_ art no more; + Nor even thou, Icilius, our tribune. + There are no free, courageous sons of Rome, + But victims only, cowed beneath the lash + Of the Decemvirs--curses on their heads! + + _Virginius._ Methinks I'm not the dog that thou hast said, + For 'tis my part and wish to play the man. + The name of Appius I do despise, + And only bide my time to bury it + Deep in the soil, along with him who bears + Its weight. Although I will not fling myself + Upon the altar of Unreason as + A bootless sacrifice, yet am I still + Nor dog, nor worm, but one who waits and prays, + Nor prays alone, but puzzles out his plan + Of action. No, nor plans alone, but strives; + And striving, must achieve, unless the hand + Of sudden Death come in to tear the web. + Friends, we are hard pressed and we pant in pain, + Yet tyrants, howsoever strong, are still + Weaker than Justice and are shorter-lived + Than Liberty, the queen whom Justice serves. + Because our wrongs are heavy must we brood, + And chafe, and curse our stars and Appius? + What war was ever closed successfully + With sullen warriors and men untrained, + Unready or undone by foul Despair? + + _Icilius._ Thou hast inspired me and curbed my wrath, + Which held in it no reason, all unbound, + Ready to leap a lion on its prey. + Ay, there's a time for all things. I shall wait, + Knowing, Virginius, that thy words are true. + Wisdom, the gods be thanked, hath never flowed + Forth from thy lips in words of honeyed sounds, + Nor yet in pompous phrases burdened down + With ponderous eloquence, but bold and frank, + Shining as bright and ringing forth as true + As thy good sword that thou hast borne so well + In camp, palestra, or in battle-field. + + _Virginius._ My words are bold, for I am full of grief + At men's delinquency and heavy souls; + Frank--ay; because 'tis late to talk in riddles + Or metaphors, that veil the precious truth + Within; shining with fervor, ringing true, + Because the cause I do uphold is true + As life and death is real. + + _Horatius._ Thine eloquence + Is worthy of a better hearing than + This little company. I would that thou + Wouldst lead us into action, noble pleb. + + _Virginius._ My duties are at present with mine own-- + With her, my fair ewe-lamb; when she becomes + The spouse of this our friend and our tribune, + Virginius shall owe himself to none, + But feel compelled the Commonwealth alone + To serve. And here's my hand in oath that I + Shall serve it well! The gods help Appius! + + [_Enter Sicinius, in civilian garments._ + + _Marius._ Greetings, Sicinius, and health to thee! + + _Sic._ And Heaven's favor unto you, my friends. + How now! All deep in sombre conference? + + _Icilius_ (_impetuously_). Sicinius! What curse hath come to Rome, + That bends her proud and regal head beneath + The yoke of shame? The collar of the serf + Hangs heavy round her haughty neck. Ye gods! + The mightly Romulus, methinks, must find + The grave a cell that keeps him from his Rome; + How must his mighty spirit chafe when he + Receiveth tidings from the newly dead, + Concerning this, his city, now so low + Amid the dust of Wrong and Bigotry! + Tell us, thou man of action, what bold move + We needs must make. Oh! be our OEdipus! + + _Horatius._ Hist, noble tribune! Favor silence. These + Are times of peril; cast thou Caution's die. + + _Icilius_ (_amazed_). What! knowest thou not this man, Sicinius? + He who has bearded all the noble Ten, + He whose brave words of indignation ring + From hill to hill of Rome? Sicinius! + + _Horatius_ (_sullenly_). I have been absent from the town these twelve + Long moons, nor know I all that thou dost know. + + _Icilius._ Why, man, look not so sour and so sad. + + _Virginius._ Peace, youths! Sicinius hath but little chance + To speak his mind. I beg of thee that thou, + Good friend, expound thy views as to these days + Of tyranny, for Romans are at bay. + + _Sic._ If I should speak, then would I speak myself + Into my grave; so twist mine earnest tongue + As soon would wring it from its fevered roots, + Mine eyeballs blind themselves with fiery tears + Of love for Rome; my life would withered be + With all the curses breathing forth, aflame + With hate for Appius! Oh, ye gods! in what + Have we outraged you that we now are cursed + With such a blight as Famine never cast + Over the fields of plenty, withering + Alike the grain and the wild wayside bloom, + Sweeping across the vast, bright lands of peace, + And leaving staring Ruin in its way? + Oh! Rome, thou much-wronged child of Romulus, + That I might break the seals from off thine eyes, + And place a flaming sword within thy hand, + A watchword in thine ear--"Endure for her + Who is thy rightful mistress, Liberty." + A battle-cry upon thy glowing lips, + "Onward!" A prayer within thy mighty heart, + And prophecy to stir thy godlike soul + To action. But the times are ripening! [_A pause._ + Could I relate thy wrongs, I would not cease, + Nor spare myself, but speaking, sink to earth, + Worn with the task. Yet who can number them + That are as numberless as Heaven's stars? + I say, as I have said to you before, + We Romans will again secede, again + March, in a body, to the Sacred Mount, + And threaten as of old another Rome, + A nobler Rome, a Rome unbound and free, + To found thereon, or else a revolution, + Bloody and merciless and full of horrors, + Shall ravage Rome, but we be satisfied. + The fire and the sword hath ready tongues; + They fawn not to the great, nor spare the high, + They lick and bite nor fail in eloquence. + So, to the fire and the sword must we + Resort; for city, home, and cherished ones + Demand that guilty blood, as a libation, + Be poured in answer to the blood of Rome, + Which crieth to her children from the ground! + + [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE I--THE HOUSE OF APPIUS. + + _The curtain, rising, discovers a bondmaid in the center of a + spacious court, filling her pitcher at the fountain. It is + midday, and the light streams down from above, flooding the + entire space with radiance. The woman sings in an undertone, as + she turns to water the roses twined around the columns in the + background. Enter Marcus Claudius. He approaches the maiden, + leisurely._ + + _Marc._ Ah! pretty one! Fortune has favored me! + I enter in due time to proffer aid. + + _Slave._ Nay, shame on thee, a man free-born, to thus + Address a bondmaid, when there is no need. + + _Marc._ Thy humble mien is fitting, girl, but I + Am modest, and, thus far, will graciously + Demean myself. + + _Slave._ Demean thyself, indeed! + I only mocked thee, fool; thy proffered aid + I scorn. Low-born plebeian, who art thou, + To set thyself above a child of kings? + + _Marc._ (_angrily_). Ha! Have a care! Take heed! Thy saucy tongue + Eludes thee, mischief hungry. Fairest slave, + But for that very fairness which is thine, + I'd have thee lashed by him who favors me! + + _Slave_ (_wheeling about in scorn_). Who shelters, who + supports, who uses thee, + And for his own vile ends! Lends thee his brains, + His power and knowledge for thy petty, sly + Returns. He, fierce and false; thou, mean and small; + He, merciless; thou, only Marcus' friend-- + And both unscrupulous as Mercury. + + _Marc._ (_furiously_). Thou art too scathing in thy judgment, damsel! + + _Slave._ Nay, I am mild to what thou dost deserve. + + _Marc._ How darest thou, a slave, to judge me so? + + _Slave._ King Tarquin, called Superbus, or the Proud, + He was mine ancestor. And I, alone + Left of his line, in bondage languish. _Thou_,-- + What canst thou boast of? Of the blood of plebs, + Yet lower e'en than they who gave thee birth; + Despised of all, for thou art neither slave, + Nor free; thou hangest slothlike on the skirts + Of mighty men, that they may represent + Thy cause--support, succor, and plead for thee, + In gratitude for thy poor services. + Avaunt! Fawner and client, touch me not! + + [_She spurns him when he would approach her, and haughtily departs._ + + _Marc._ (_gazing after her_). Adieu, thou helpless + scorner, chained despiser, + Thy tongue hath sought to whip me sore--in vain. + A client knows not shame nor injured pride. + Nor is he haughty, for the blood of kings + Heats not his veins. So Marcus, too, is low, + Ready to stoop to aught, however base, + To gain his ends. But triumph over triumphs! + Marcus will issue forth the conqueror. + Flushed with his victory, while other men + Lie low and bite the dust because they clung + To honor! He, clean void of conscience, sucks + The sweets of life down to their sweetest dregs. [_Pauses._ + Ha! who is that? My master hath returned! + + [_Peers through a curtained doorway on the right. As he + retreats, Appius Claudius enters hurriedly. His toga is + disordered, his countenance aflame with wine and passion. He + throws himself heavily upon a couch._ + + _Appius._ Wine, fetch some wine! At once, with no delay! + + _Marc._ (_aside_). And drunk as Bacchus at his wedding-feast! + (_Aloud._) Which kind, my lord? + + _Appius._ Falernian! Mark ye, dilute it not! + + _Marc._ (_aside_). I need no prophet's eyes to see his end. + To Bacchus I assign him with due care. [_Exit._ + + _Appius_ (_in hoarse undertone_). I looked but once, + and, looking, she was gone, + Leaving me reeling, drunk with loveliness. + I have imbibed deeply this day in wine, + Yet hath it less intoxicating power + Than hath a tremor of her lashes or + A flutter of her garments! I am struck, + And heavily! [_He groans and clasps his head with his hands._ + Virginia! Elements + Are in thy name--tempest and burning flame! + My soul is tossed as though it were at sea, + My brain is floating on the vacant air, + My heart consumed in everlasting fire! + + [_Enter Marcus, bearing a goblet and an amphora._ + + _Marc._ Thy rare Falernian. + + _Appius._ Fill me the cup. [_Drinks._ + Sweet solace and indulgence of the gods, + Unequaled nectar, give me satisfaction! + Better to me this pleasure than the sight + Of fair Elysium. Such ecstasy + As is the privilege and portion of + Souls freed from Hades and its rack and wheel + And snatched to Heaven, can no sweeter be + Than is mine ecstasy, when wafted on + The summer zephyr, comes this breath, divine, + Of nectar and ambrosia in one. + Virginia, to myself, to thee, to Love, + I drink! And now, my Marcus, sit thee down! + I would confer with thee. + + _Marc._ (_seats himself_). What is thy will? + + _Appius._ Marcus, this morn I made my way in state + Through Rome--and, in the market-place, beheld + A sight that hath undone me for this day. + My heart hath slipped its leash and now is set + Hard on the trail, not to be turned aside. + + _Marc._ What vision hath the gods vouchsafed thee, then? + + _Appius._'Twas more than vision, thanks to Vulcan be, + Who did create that mortal styled a woman, + At once a snare, at once a perfect boon; + At once a curse, at once a lasting blessing. + It was a maid, a lowly, mortal maid, + A maid of mean plebeian birth as well, + Yet beautiful as though she had arisen + From out the golden heart of some fair rose, + Or drowsy, dreamy, tempting, fresh and fair, + Had issued, shyly, from the troubled depths + Of rock-bound spring, a nymph but newly born, + And shrinking from the glances of the morn. + Virginia, child of one Virginius, + Centurion of courage and renown, + She burst upon me like a revelation + Unto a prophet. She is mine as sure + As are the stars possessions of the Night. + She'll have no will but mine, no choice but mine; + She'll yield her body unto me, until + I find the chance to win her heart and soul. + I'll hold her and I'll kiss her heart away; + I'll chain her soul to mine with links of gold. + But whether she shall ever love me true + I little care, so that her lips are mine. + So that I daily touch her hands and feel + Her dusky hair blow cloudlike 'gainst my cheek. + Marcus, thou art the man to work my weal, + By aiding me in this, mine enterprise. + + _Marc._ What! Shall I play the game and thou receive + The winnings? + + _Appius_ (_haughtily_). Ay, assuredly. O, pause, + And pausing, see thyself in honest light. + Thou art my client; thou to _me_ dost owe + Thy safety, standing, possibly thy life. + I know the law--I _made_, the law, the while + Thou canst not read a letter; as a pleb + Few rights are thine--those few I gave thy class + At the expense of the patrician favor. + Break with me, and thou'lt break thy fortunes, ope + Thy chest of troubles, like the silly maid + Who brought untold misfortunes on herself + And on the world. Assist me and thou'lt gain + My favor, keep my needful, strong protection. + + _Marc._ Enough! I follow thee and will obey. + + _Appius._ E'en to the letter? + + _Marc._ To the letter, lord. + + _Appius._ Then hearken. Choose some morning, soon or late, + And hasten to the market-place. The maid + Receiveth schooling there. When she appears, + Spring forward boldly, seize her by the arm, + (And yet be not too rude in thy demeanor); + When all the multitude around demand + An explanation, say to them that she + Was born of a slave-woman in thy house, + Ere thou a client had become. And add + That she had been in secret borne away, + And, by the wife of one Virginius, + Claimed as a child; her own at birth had died, + And he, Virginius, kept in ignorance, + Grossly deceived, believeth it his flesh + And blood. The tale is wild; no proof hast thou, + Nor witnesses; and yet it is enough + Seeing that I control the Romans as + The Fates control the lives of mortal men, + And need the barest shadow of excuse + To work my will--I, who am autocrat! + Assume a righteous air, if that doth lie + Within the limits of thy doubtful, rare + Accomplishments. When they protest, then say + "To Appius for justice I will go," + And leave the rest to me. + + _Marcus._ Ay, leave to thee + The cowing of the Roman mob, for that + Lieth within the limits of _thy_ rare, + Doubtful accomplishments. So let it be. + I'll serve thee well--will my returns be worthy + The peril of my venture? + + _Appius._ Also leave + That matter unto me. + + +SCENE II--WOMEN'S APARTMENTS IN THE HOUSE OF VIRGINIUS. + + _Style of ornaments and hangings very simple. Virginia, bending + over her nurse, who is seated in a chair, appears to have just + completed the arrangement of the latter's hair._ + + _Virg._ Nay, now, let be! 'Tis most becoming so. + What! would'st thou call't presumptious to assume + The style of headdress worn by noble ladies? + Foolish Camilla! Thou art nobler far + Than many score fine dames, however high + They hold their heads or wear their tresses--so! + Oh, 'tis entrancing! Stay, I have not done. + + _Camilla_ (_groaning in mock despair_). Alack! was + ever nurse so harried by + A maid as silly and as sweet as thou! + + _Virg._ No, never! for I'm sweet because I've kissed + Thy kind old cheek so oft and have imbibed + Therefrom the sweetness only found in thee. + And I am silly--I suppose, because + The gods have made me so. Now, turn about + Thy head. How white thy hair of late hath grown! + + _Camilla._ Alack! mine age is on me! + + _Virg._ (_passionately caressing her_). Nay, not so! + Or if 'tis so, I love each silver thread. + Kiss me, Camilla--but I must proceed + With this thy toilet. Now is it complete. + Oh, Jupiter! it is a work of art! + Sweet nurse, thou wilt amaze my father when + He catches sight of thee. [_Seizes a mirror._ + Come, view thyself. + 'Tis not ill-done, for I have marked the style. + Shake not thy head at me, I prithee now. + I only sport with thee. Look not so grave. + + _Camilla._ Sweet one, because thou art so gay to-day, + I fear to-morrow thou wilt be in tears. + Excess of spirits bears excess of grief. + Thou'rt young and fair as Hero; but to her + Misfortune came and loss and heavy woe! + + _Virg._ Now, thou remindest me of Wisdom's owl-- + Croak not so somberly. Thou who art one + Whose heart is ever genial with mirth, + Wrong'st Nature to cast shadows over youth. + + _Camilla_ (_drawing Virginia to her tenderly_). My little love, + I would not seem to sigh; + Ever have I despised a sorry face, + A gloomy or foreboding disposition. + Thou hast most aptly said that I to-day + Belie my character. Forgive! Forget! + + _Virg._ (_pouting_). Forget, thou croaking raven of despair? + Thou dost expect too much. I may forgive, + But not forget. What ailest thee to-day? + Art thou not ill or weary with thy tasks? + We'll make thy labor lighter, and thy cares + As to the household now shall rest on me. + + _Camilla._ Not so, sweet child. There is no need for that. + I am not ill nor weary, nay, nor sad, + But fearful and in dread of hidden woe. + What may the morrow bring to thee, my babe, + Or to thy father, or thy lover? What, + I can not see, but only feel and dread. + + _Virg._ Camilla! Something surely ails thee now. + Oh! I am mystified and overcome + By thy prophetic words, thy drear address, + And I would probe thy meaning deeply, lest + A vision should have warned thee of a flood + Of coming tribulation. Gentle nurse, + Hast visited of late the oracle? + Speak! Speak to me! Speak to Virginia! Say! + Tell me, nor torture me upon the rack + Of fear and dread prolonged. + + _Camilla_ (_slowly_). If it were aught + That I might put to thee or e'en myself + In syllables, I'd speak. But syllables + Are clumsy things. Words are inanimate, + Dull, helpless weapons, powerless unless + The thoughts are present skillfully to wield + The blades. Then cut and thrust they mightily, + Ready to wound, or e'en with menace kill. + I know not what I fear. I know not why + Nor wherefore. Has the gift of second-sight + Been by the gods this day on me bestowed? [_A pause._ + I seem to see great sorrow brought about + By shameless wrong; I seem to see a cloud, + Laden with anguish which may soon descend + In burning drops on Rome, where'er I turn. + Who are the victims I can not discover, + But when I close mine eyes from out the black + That blinds them, lo! a knife like lightning sent + By Jove flashes upon me--and is gone! + + _Virg._ (_sobbing_). Alas! My joy is fled and all is gloom. + Sure 'tis some peril scowling o'er my father. + Mayhap e'en now he lieth in the camp, + Struck down by men who envy him his fame! + Oh! horrid thought! most dread, most cruel thought! + + _Camilla_ (_arousing herself with effort_). Nay, weep not, my + Virginia; I regret + Those vague emotions which are doubtless false + Deceiving dreams, sent me by Mercury, + Who oft delights in filling mortal minds + With gray forebodings, as thou art aware. + Quick! Kiss me, child, and dry those silly tears. + Lo! now methinks I hear thy father's step. + + _Virg._ (_joyously_). Father! mine own dear father! + + (_Voice of Virginius without._) Little one! + No welcome at the door? + + [_Virginia runs to the curtained doorway, through which her + father enters, and flings her arms in tearful ecstasy around his + neck._ + + _Virginius._ What! tears, dear heart? + + _Virg._ But smiles will clear them soon. I feared for thee-- + Most foolishly, yet ne'ertheless, I feared. + + _Virginius._ Most foolishly, indeed, my dark-haired Psyche, + Thou pure-embodied soul, my spirit's light. + Look up, dear child, and kiss thy father fond. + He's wearied and he needs his heart's restorer. + + [_The two come forward, he in his shining armor, she nestling + birdlike in the shelter of his arm._ + + My daughter, I have seen Icilius. + + _Virg._ Ah! Father! + + _Virginius_ (_mockingly_). "Ah! Father!" Ay, I saw him. Me he held + Firmly, besieging me with queries, all + Concerning thee. How had Virginia fared + While he was absent?--the presumptious boy! + Couldst thou fare otherwise than well with me? + And then with eager eyes he questioned as + To thy remarks, thy thoughts concerning him, + Thy attitude to things in general. + Where did Virginia spend her days? In school? + Was she by chance affrighted at the state + Of Rome since he had left her? Like unto + A feverish flame, he reached on every side, + Hungry for news of his Virginia. + + _Virg._ (_dreamily_). My Love! My Love! Mine own Icilius! + Oh! gentle gods, my happiness exceeds + My worth. But yet, amen! So let it be. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE III--A GARDEN OVERGROWN WITH ROSES. + + _Enter Virginia and Icilius. Twilight deepening into night._ + + _Icilius._ This is an eve of witchery, an hour + Alluring, swelled with love and weighted down + With dreams. + + _Virg._ A time when all our best ideals + Are perfected. Reality is dead, + Deep-buried in her grave, and Heaven and Earth, + Swayed by the wand of sweet Imagination, + Languish beneath the velvet robes of Night. + + _Icilius_. And 'tis a night more fair than when Dian + Cast lustre on the young, unwitting face + Of that deep-slumbering boy, Endymion. + + _Virg._ Oh! happy boy! a goddess kissed thy hair, + Mused o'er thy brows, and sighed above thy lips. + + _Icilius_. Thrice happy man, who treasures human love, + And humbly may accept that precious gift, + A mortal maiden's heart, nor sigh for more. + There is no more, nor anything so fair, + As such a dear possession. Happy he, + Who can, though but one instant, close and warm, + Hold woman's form, or kiss the starry light + Into her eyes, the blood into her cheeks! + And such a man, Virginia, am I. + + _Virg._ (_shyly_). Not once in life, dear Love, but many times. + + _Icilius._ Not once, not twice, not thrice, but many times. + + _Virg._ What might lies in the warmth of kisses given! + Like wine they strengthen, quicken, stimulate, + Like flame they warm, like moonlight satisfy. + Like stars uplift above the common world. + Dear Love, I am a weak and fearful child + And need my wine, my flame, my moon and stars, + To fit me for the years that lie ahead. + + _Icilius._ Thou lookest pale, in need of stimulant-- + + [_Kisses her._ + + Once more, sweetheart! Nay, wouldst thou draw away? + + _Virg._ Not so. Mine ears deceived me, hearing sounds + Of stealthy listeners. + + _Icilius._ Virginia, + Rest here upon this bed of roses. They + Are "red with anguish for Adonis' death," + That mortal love of Venus. Dear, recline, + And let thy tresses, darker than the night, + In the breeze fluttering, caress my cheek, + Breathing thy love for me. + + _Virg._ Icilius, + 'Twas only yestereve I wandered here. + The sun was casting forth his fading beams + In final efforts most supreme; my thoughts + Were full of peace and thee. And in the light + Shed by the homing sun--the purple, red, + And gold--I dreamed fair dreams, imagined visions. + Methought I saw the coming years of bliss, + Deepened with sorrow, lined with simple care; + The sorrow of a mortal, and the care + Of wife and mother. Then, at once, arose + Longings that I might always worthy be, + As was Eurydice of Orpheus. + Never to falter, howsoe'er I feared, + Turn not, stay not, fail not; a woman in + My services and steadfast faith, as well + As my most passionate love. My thoughts are grave; + Perchance they do accord not with thy mood? + + _Icilius._ Not so, thou spirit of sweet harmony, + My life and soul, my one bright guiding star. + Thy lover is a rude and careless man, + A Roman tribune, weighted with affairs, + Stern to my fellows, tender but to thee. + Yet when I look on thy beloved form + And perfect face, my sins are swept away, + As is the unclean wrack, upon the shore, + Swept by the ocean. Ay! and in its place + Are left pure pearls and shells and wonders such + As only dwell where man can never go-- + Thy thoughts, Virginia, pure as virgin snow. + + _Virg._ Last night I lay awake amid the dark, + Hearing the music of the fount without + My window; sharply, trebly sweet it broke + The heavy, voiceless gloom of slumbering + Nature and sleeping men. Awake, I dreamed + Of all the bliss the gentle gods have placed + Within my hold. Then, like a swelling sea, + High in my bosom rose the newborn love. + I thought of how it grew, so shy, so slow, + At first like faltering breeze that lightly stirs + And lifts the tiny feather o'er the heart + Of nesting bird, then gaming courage, grows + Into a gentle wind until the soul + Within leaps up, and mighty, strong, and free, + Soars on celestial wings above the raving sea. + + [_A silence falls, during which a light begins to break in the + eastern sky._ + + _Icilius._ We have outsighed the day; the rising moon + Her benediction smiles upon this spot, + Where breathes and hopes and loves Virginia. + + _Virg._ She signals faintly, from the brightening east, + To thee, my hero and my love. + + _Icilius._ One kiss, + One kiss in honor of fair Cynthia. + May blessings come to thee with every ray + From yonder orb which rises o'er the hills + Of Rome and lights a glory in thy hair. + Elusive soul! this moment dost thou seem + A chaste, pale spirit of the lonely moon, + A white Diana of nocturnal glades, + Yet in the magic of the ardent sun + I've seen thee flame into an Aphrodite, + A glowing type of passion and desire. + My love, my full and perfected ideal, + My Helen and my delicate Ænone. + My nymph and my incomparable queen + In one. Come closer to my arms, beloved! + I would not lose in any sense or thought + A moment spent with thee, Virginia. + + _Virg._ (_in his arms_). Closer, ay, closer, as the days go by, + Deeper and deeper, stronger and more strong, + Each in the other till we are not two, + A man and maid, but one, but one. Oh! say + How close I am to thee, Icilius? + + _Icilius._ As close as vein to leaf, or leaf to stem; + As close as is the rose-flush in the heart + Of ocean's shell unto the shell itself; + Close as the star is to its atmosphere; + Wedded as day and night, no break, no void + Between, but only faintest change and lights, + Born of a higher world, a purer sphere, + Heaven-conceived, begotten of the sky. + + [_The light visibly brightens, shining down upon the two. After + a silence they stir and slowly walk apart, watching the sky. + Icilius presently rejoins Virginia._ + + Love, thou art weary. Come within and sleep. + + _Virg._ Nay, I could never weary in thy sight. + Have I not called thy kisses and embrace + My wine, my flame, my moonlight and my stars? + I am not weary. But I'll come within-- + The morrow brings a fresh Elysium. + + _Icilius._ Oh! but the night is fair; behold each rose, + How tenderly preserves and cups its dew, + Barely awakened, lifting up its head + And smiling at the moon. One kiss before + We go within. And now, farewell, thou rose; + Farewell, thou garden of nocturnal dreams + And noon-day musings. Come, Virginia, + Let us within. + + +SCENE IV--HOME OF CORNELIA. + + _Apartment spacious and luxurious, with hangings of various + kinds. Cornelia, who is reclining in an arm chair, occupies the + center of the room; a female stands behind her in the act of + arranging her hair. On the left is a boy in rich patrician + dress, seated beside an oblong bath, engaged in sailing a tiny + fleet of vessels on the surface of the water. On the right are a + number of attendants, conversing in undertones._ + + _Cor._ Ah, gods! I am most sad and most aweary + Of this routine of state, unrestful splendor. + My lovers love not me but my possessions, + My friends are envious of my delights. + Wretched aristocrats! Unhappy we + Who call ourselves patricians, and who swear + Our race is blessed of the most blessed gods! + Say rather cursed, and with a heavy curse! + How can I give my heart to those who are + By _noble_ blood worthy and eligible, + After the Roman laws, to sue for it? + Eros with them is but an empty name; + Passion and lust and horrible ambition + Form the emotions of these "blessed" ones. + And I, unhappy, love with pure desire + Sicinius, a soldier and a pleb! + Yet hath the Ten forbidden intermarriage, + Just when those bars of difference were about + To fall away and Heaven ope for me. [_To the attendant._ + Sufficient, Julia. + + _Julia._ Nay, a few light touches + And thou wilt shine more fair, my lovely mistress, + Than heavenly Venus in her myrtle bower. + + _Cor._ (_smilingly_). But I am dark as night; she as the day, + Thou foolish maid. + + _Julia._ Believe me, thou in thy + Rich, languid charm would cast enchantment o'er + Adonis, as would keep him from the chase + Where Venus pled in vain. + + _Cor._ Tut, flatterer! + + _Julia_ (_slyly_). Methinks I'd make a model lover then + If I do flatter. Is't not so, sweet lady? + + _Cor._ (_bitterly_). Lovers are mockeries in this blackened age. + A maid may wed the low-souled fool so long + As he's high-born! The man of noble mind + Is numbered, if a common, 'mongst the dead. + + _Julia_ (_idly_). Methinks Sicinius comes here anon? + + _Cor._ (_in displeasure_). What! Insolent! Who bade thee speak, + I pray? + + _Julia_ (_softly_). Lady, mine eyes are clear and quick to see, + And thy heart's sentinels are slumbering. + I mean no insolence, by all the gods! + My motive only love and sympathy. + I, too, am a plebeian, and rejoice + To see thy gracious, noble condescension. + Yet in my joy I well could weep with pain, + Seeing the darkness of thy doubtful future. + + _Cor._ Darkness! It is a void as empty as + My heart this day is full. Begone, I pray, + Each one of you; nay, thou, my Julia, stay + And bid the bards perform a soothing lay. + + [_Exeunt maids. Sounds of a harp without in soft accompaniment._ + + _Cor._ Tiberius, come hither unto me. + + [_The boy approaches her._ + + Now kiss me, child, and talk a space with me. + + _Tib._ What melancholy broods upon thy brow, + Curves thy dear lips, and glooms within thine eyes? + + _Cor._ Brother, thou art too young to comprehend. + + _Tib._ Mayhap, for I am only twelve years old; + Yet I'm no dullard, sister, and I weep + Because I see thee sad. Methinks Sicinius + Would weep for thee as well. + + _Cor._ (_starting in dismay_). Ye gods of love! + Does all Italia observe my heart, + Which I had deemed secure within my breast? + Or possibly (although the gods forbid!) + My maidens have been gossiping to thee? + + _Tib._ (_disdainfully_). No, never; gossip reacheth not mine ears. + But oft I hear thee sigh and then, within + The selfsame breath, breathe forth a name I know; + A name all Romans know--Sicinius. + Ay, and I oft have heard thee sob, although + I fain had heard it not, since thou desirest + Thy grief held secret. Sister mine, how canst + Thou hope to wed a soldier and a pleb? + + _Cor._ Alas! Alas! Mine own Tiberius! + No hope have I, and yet I love my strength + Away--my heart and soul are all aflame + With a wild conflagration. Boy, thou seemest + Inclined to comprehend my fierce emotions, + Bitter despair and strange besieging hope, + That scarce is conscious hope, but mocked and crushed + By the stern laws of Rome and tyranny + Of the false Ten, since ever it was born. + Thy bright brown eyes are luminous with soul; + Wise, gentle brother, dost thou weep for me? + + _Tib._ (_sobbing passionately_). A curse upon those false and + dreadful Ten! + Cornelia, would that I might succor thee! + + _Cor._ Most dear, my brother, weep no more for me; + The gods, who love true lovers, do despise + Tyrants and murderers, and sure will aid + Our cause if we be patient to the end. + Time is a greybeard, and he will not haste + At any whim, and Fate, a bigot stern, + Who acts according to his quick desire; + He preys on Innocence as well as Guilt, + And none can change the fashion of his ways. [_A pause._ + Now, tell me, wast thou playing mariner, + But now, and was yon bath a mighty sea? + + _Tib._ (_brightly_). I was Æneas, our great forefather, + And I was sailing from our ancient Troy. + Oft Juno dashed our ships against the rocks + In spite, because the Trojans she abhorred; + Yet, by a miracle, lo! I was saved. + + _Cor._ And didst thou then encounter and escape + Scylla's dread arms, Charybdis' frightful jaws? + + _Tib._ Ay, and therefrom lost I three goodly men-- + Two oarsmen and my helmsman. + + _Cor._ Cruel fate! + Perchance thou hast survived these perils, so + Thou mayst give comfort to thy troubled sister. + Methinks--but what familiar sound is that? + Surely his voice dismissing his attendant-- + And now a knocking on the outer door! + The porter cometh nigh. Tiberius, + 'Tis he! I dreamed not he could come this day! + + _Tib._ Then I'll begone, sister; give me a kiss; + I'll seek thee later and relate my voyage. [_Exit._ + + _Cor._ Ah! gods! I feel as fluttered as a maid + Of the plebeians might. Thus do I share + The simple nature of his simple class, + Through my deep love for him. My haughty mien, + Patrician dignity, desert me when + Mine own beloved cometh unto me. + + (_Voice of porter without._) Most gracious mistress, + I await thy pleasure, + To usher in a visitor to thee. + + _Cor._ (_aside_). I must not seem too eager, comprehensive, + Lest e'en my faithful porter, noting it, + Let slip without my doors some foolish scandal. [_To porter._ + Who is the visitor? + + _Porter._ Sicinius. + + _Cor._ Admit Sicinius into my presence. [_Enter Sicinius and porter._ + + (_Aside._) Dear Heaven! My Love! (_Aloud._) Thou Gaius, to thy post + Begone! And Julia, do thou too withdraw. + + [_Exeunt the two. A silence falls. Cornelia remains seated, a + still form, most beautiful, endeavoring to calm her loving + passion, one hand upon her bosom and her eyes fixed on the face + of Sicinius, who stands motionless with admiration._ + + Sicinius! + + _Sic._ What can I say, oh, God! + Thou art too fair, thou art too wondrous fair + For me to break the spell. Awake! Awake! + Dreamer I am not wont to be, save when + Thy beauty casts a web of visions o'er me. + + _Cor._ My beauty paleth in the greater light, + O my Sicinius, of thy manhood's worth. + Awake, indeed, and greet me. I can face + Thy gaze no longer; art thou turned to stone? + + _Sic._ (_advancing, with his arm outstretched in a sudden + warmth of passion_). I turn to stone only upon the day + When I can neither claim nor clasp my love. + Till then mine arms continue flesh and blood, + My lips as warm as thine; thou radiant Soul! (_Embracing her._) + + _Cor._ Oh! stay a space! Is every curtain drawn? + + _Sic._ I do not know, for thou hast dazzled quite + My goodly eyesight, and I only see + Cornelia here and there and everywhere. + + _Cor._ Alas! I fear so greatly for our love; + Pray Heaven thou lose me not entirely! + + _Sic._ Nay, rest thee, rest thee, tremble not, beloved. + The life of Appius will soon be spanned, + And a great wave of revolution shake + Rome's center; soon I drop a mighty pebble + On her dark surface, and the rings therefrom + Into a rush of water thence shall widen. + + _Cor._ (_partly rising from her chair, her eyes alight_). + The Fates be thanked that now the foul stagnation + Of Rome, enslaved, is stirring into life; + And _thine_ the hand! Thou'rt worthy of the cause, + Thou patriot and model of a man! + + _Sic._ Oh! but I love my city and my race! + Thank God that my stern duty lieth on + The selfsame path as love for thee, my sweet. + My conscience and my happiness alike + Demand that I should aim to liberate + Rome and the Romans from the yoke of men + Who are defiling and defiled--the Ten! [_Starts suddenly._ + I came, that I might steal one glimpse of thee. + The sun is high--I may not tarry more. + + _Cor._ So soon departing? Whither wouldst thou go? + + _Sic._ Straight to the Forum--then unto the camp. + The movements of our foemen, the Sabines, + Are grave. Methinks I'll soon be called upon + To enter into active services. + Farewell, Cornelia! kiss me once again! + Sweet mistress, noble lady! fare thee well! [_Exit swiftly._ + + _Cor._ Gone! Gone! So swiftly, like an eager shaft + From Roman bow. Vanished, my gallant love! + Where shall I see him when he doth return + To me? May Mars attend and favor him, + And Victory with laurel wreath adorn + His earnest brows. Sicinius, farewell! + + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I--A CLOUDY MORNING IN THE FORUM. + + _Busy passing to and fro of citizens. Enter Cornelia and + Tiberius, attended by two slaves. The former appears + embarrassed, fluttered, and distressed, the latter troubled and + concerned._ + + _Cor._ Gods! How the people stare upon me, brother! + Alas! They reek not of a woman's heart, + But judge me bold and courting their attention, + I who am hungry for one gaze alone, + Yet can not find. So many days have passed, + No tidings from my love hath reached mine ears, + And rumors that he's dead hath driven me + Close unto madness. All my slaves have sought, + But failed to find him. I am desperate! + Surely the ears of one who loves will hear, + Surely the eyes of one who loves will see, + And learn his fate, whether for good or ill. + He will forgive me for exposing her + He loveth to the gaze of multitudes! + + _Tib._ Ay, but most likely he was called to serve + Rome in the latest skirmish with her foes. + Thy fear it is unfounded. + + _Cor._ Nay, my child, + The skirmishing they say is discontinued, + And all who fought therein returned unto + The camp, save only those who fell beneath + The Sabine spears. My Love hath not been seen, + And I can rest no longer in my house. + + [_While they speak, the already clouded sky darkens so rapidly + that all start and look out across the populated hills. A + distant peal of thunder is heard, followed by a second, greater + in volume. All press together, then a cry arises:_ "Way, make + way! The sibyl of the vale would speak! She is inspired!" _The + dense crowd parts and all swing backward in confusion. A flash + of lightning breaks the heavy gloom, followed by a muttering of + thunder. A few large raindrops fall. The sibyl enters through + the multitude, a weird, mad form, with tossing hair and wild, + disheveled garments._ + + _Sibyl._ Wail, walls of Rome, and weep, ye tender vales + Of sweet Italia! + + [_A murmur and a swaying. Voices contend for silence._ + + Oh! day of dole! + Oh, day of perfect woe! Oh, Furies' day + Of fever and of tears! Oh, black despair! + The night of tyranny hath settled o'er + Our city, roof-like shuts her from the air + Of Heaven! And the hollow, brazen dome + Of despotism closes o'er our heads; + Black tyranny and red-hot despotism! + Had I hands long enough and nails as sharp + As Hate, I'd tear in shreds the infernal web! + + [_Another peal of thunder resounds. She points toward the heavy + clouds._ + + My tongue is laden with the vast commands + Of Jove, to-day. But Rome is deaf and mad. + The gods cry out upon this tyranny, + The heavens in thunder clap their wrathful hands! + Yet Rome, the Rome of Romulus, the Rome + Of Numa and the martial kings of old, + Is deaf--is deaf and mad! Oh! woe, woe, woe! + + [_With a prolonged, shrill wail of despair she vanishes amid the + crowd. Great agitation now displayed by the majority of + citizens. Enter a runner._ + + _Run._ Ye men of Rome, I bear ill news with me! + + _The Cit._ What is't? Out with it! Dally not at all! + + _Run._ Sicinius, our leader, he is dead! + + [_A murmur of horror._ + + _Cor._ (_starting wildly forward_). Sicinius? Sicinius, the pleb? + Oh! gods of Heaven! Ye have struck me hard! + + [_She sinks insensible upon the ground. Her slaves bend over + her. Tiberius kneels beside her, sobbing bitterly._ + + _The Cit._ How died he? + + _Run._ It is said by some that he, + Being sent by the Decemvirs to select + A spot most suitable whereon to camp, + Fell into ambuscade and died along + With several comrades. + + _The Cit._ Slaughtered by the foe? + + _Run._ So it hath been reported by the few + That did escape. [_He pauses, then proceeds._ + But hearken, citizens! + The bodies lay unspoil'd, with faces turned + All toward one--that one, Sicinius. + The Ten hath hated and hath feared this man! + No more. Construe the meaning as ye list; + I must away. + + [_Exit runner. The four citizens, Horatius, Galba, Marius, and + Hortensius, approach the prone form of Cornelia._ + + _Hor._ A lady of patrician birth! Good slaves, + Can we assist thy mistress, who appears + In such a piteous and hapless plight? + + _Slave_ (_sobbing_). Alas! Alas! I know not what to do, + Or what hath come upon her suddenly. + Ah! see, she stirs! Lady, awake! awake! + + _Cor._ (_opening her eyes, but making no attempt to raise herself_). + Those words he used when last he came to me. + Oh! bitter, bitter fate! Say not awake, + But sleep eternally! Sicinius! + + _Galba._ It doth appear affection did exist + Betwixt Rome's great plebeian and this lady. + + _Tib._ Ay, sir, she loved him e'en as he loved her; + But naught was said because they feared the Ten. + Nay, I was wrong! Sicinius and fear + Are alien the one unto the other! + But rather did he bide his time until + These men should be o'erthrown and Rome be freed + From their most hateful laws and government. + + _One of the multitude._ Hark to the boy! He is a demagogue. + + _Another._ Nay, he is innocent, and therefore bold. + Parroting sentiments that are not his own. + + _A third._ And yet he speaks the truth, the naked truth. + See how this woman hath been sadly wronged, + And how her life is marred by these Decemvirs; + For surely they gave orders for the death + Of him who was a leader and a man! + Have they not feared him for these many months, + Because his tongue is sharper than a sword? + And these two, a patrician and a pleb, + Each representing classes now united + By common misery, are foully hurt, + And scarred by fierce injustice from the Ten. + Vengeance! The time is ripe for vengeance. Rome + Can bear no more. Sicinius is dead! + + [_Murmurs of_ "Sicinius is dead!" + + _Cor._ (_moaning as in pain_). Sicinius is dead! + Sicinius! + + [_Enter Virginia, followed by Camilla. She espies Cornelia and + at once approaches._ + + _Virg._ Kind citizens, let me to her, I pray. + + [_She kneels beside the fainting girl._ + + Oh, tearful sight! Ah me, most sorrowful! + Thou art Cornelia, whom I oft have seen, + Of whom I've heard from thy dear lover's lips. + I knew him well; he waits for thee beyond + The sea, in the broad Islands of the Blest, + Where heroes find a haven and a rest. + + [_She smooths the other's brow in silence for a space, and then + proceeds._ + + Look up, poor broken spirit, and discern + A friendly face and weep upon my heart. + She will not rouse herself! Good people, pray, + Press not upon her. Bring a car, O slave, + The lady is unable to return + On foot. The carriage waits without the place? + 'Tis well. And now to bring her to herself! + Cornelia, waken! But look not so cold. + Thou gentle heart! relieve the strain of grief + With tears of passion. Then come home, come home. + + _Cor._ (_rousing herself_). Tell me, who art thou, O thou noble maid? + + _Virg._ I am Virginia, whom thou knowest not. + + _Cor._ Canst thou not take me from this staring crowd? + Their eyes are knives; the very air is poison. + Oh, God! He is not dead? + + _Virg._ (_assisting her to her feet_). Come home, sweet sister. + + _Tib._ (_sobbing_). Cornelia, my Cornelia! Speak to me! + + _Virg._ Art thou Tiberius, thou tender child? + Weep not; assist me with thy stricken sister. + + [_As the three, the slaves in close attendance, are about to + make their way through the multitude, there comes a sudden + disturbance, and Marcus Claudius springs forward._ + + _Marc._ Ho! stay a bit, my servant; stay with me! + + [_He seizes rude hold on Virginia, who shrieks aloud in terror. + At once the four citizens make their way to her side._ + + Now by the gods! I only take mine own. + + _Virg._ Aid me, in Heaven's name, ye citizens! + Deliver me from shame! Icilius! + Icilius, my love, where art thou now? + + _Marc._ (_in undertone_). Thy struggles, maid, succeed in binding thee + But closer in mine arms. Hast thou a lover? + He hears thee not, and thou art my possession. + Now, still thyself. Gods! Proserpine, thou art + As strong as is Cybele's lioness! + + _Marius._ Foul slave! Loose thou the maid! Oh, insolence! + + _Hor._ Beast! I will kill thee, maim thee like a dog, + Unless thou takest thy hand from off the maid! + + _Marc._ (_panting_). Reserve thy threats and play thou warily, + Justice upholds me! + + _The multitude._ Justice! + + _Marc._ (_coolly_). Shout less loud, + Look not aghast, my masters. I will take + This girl by law--she is my rightful slave. + + _Hor._ 'Tis false! + + _Marc._ Soft, friend, be calm, hold off, I pray! + Hark! she was born a slave within my house, + And thence was stolen and declared to be + The offspring of the man Virginius, + Whose wife had borne an infant at the time, + Which on the moment of its birth had died. + Virginius himself was then away, + And on returning deemed it was his babe, + And deems so to this day. I waited long, + And now have found in this Virginia + My property. A woman hath confessed; + The one who stole her thence and fled away, + Returning but to die within the house + Of Appius, my patron, whom I serve. + + _Cam._ Oh, liar! I first clasped her in mine arms + When she was born! Remove thine impious hand! + In childhood and in girlhood I have watched + Her growth, and guarded her from shame or harm. + + _Multitude._ Ay, ay! She speaks the truth! Loose thou the maid! + She is no slave. We know Virginius. + + _Marc._ Now, I'll have justice, though it cost me e'en + My life, itself. + + _Hor._ Which it is like to, dog! + + [_He strikes him boldly with, clenched fist. The client + staggers, losing his hold on Virginia, who takes refuge with the + three citizens._ + + _Hortensius._ Where is thine evidence? + + _Galba_ (_ironically_). Ay, e'en thy word + Weighs naught with us free citizens of Rome. + + _Marc._ (_hissing between his teeth_). My word _shall_ weigh with you, + ye coward curs! + For lo! My word is--Appius! Ah--so! + + [_The mob shrinks backward at the name, and Marcus laughs in + scorn._ + + (_Vindictively._) I see it hath a little weight with you? + "Free citizens of Rome!" Ye make me laugh. + Oh! ay, I know ye'd mob me joyously, + Stone me, or cast me from Tarpeian Rock, + Save that--save that--ye _dare_ not! Appius + Would leave not one small particle of this, + His client, unavenged. Back, all of you! + The maid is mine! Ye can not say me nay. + + _One of the multitude._ But if we threaten thee, or bear her off, + And save her from thy most illegal movements, + What then? + + _Marc._ What then? To Appius Claudius + For justice I would go! + + [_Murmurs of fear are heard on every side._ + + (_With mocking smile_). Lo! now he comes + Within the Forum. + + [_Even as he speaks the Chief of the Decemvirs enters. He is + seated in a chair which is borne by four slaves._ + + _Appius_ (_frowning sombrely_). What bodes this tumult? + Who, yon lovely girl? + + _Multitude._ Justice! We would see justice, Appius! + + _Appius._ Silence! and let me hear one voice alone. + Marcus, my client, speak, for I would have + An explanation of this strange disturbance. + + _Marc._ Most noble Appius, I owned this girl, + Born in my house full sixteen years ago, + Of my slave-woman. + + _Cam._ (_boldly_). Liar! All men know + Her mother was free-born and wedded to + Virginius, centurion and pleb. + + _Appius._ Gag yonder hag, or drag her hence--I'll have + No withered woman's voice of spite exclaiming. + + _Cam._ Thy lictor shall not lay his hands upon me! + My place is here. My voice shall speak for her, + Nor fear thee, king of tyrants and despoilers! + Long have I inwardly foreseen this day, + And prayed the gods to change the hand of Fate. + It seems my prayers are valueless. But still, + Still there does yet remain to me--my _curse_! + And all shall feel its potency who dare + To lay a finger on Virginia. + + [_She faces Marcus Claudius with her arm extended and her manner + menacing._ + + Thou, fool of fools, who ventured to pollute + The purest virgin breathing in this land, + Because thou placed thy hand upon her flesh, + Which is as perfect as her perfect soul, + I curse thee--ay, and with a heavy curse, + For that which thou hast done! Thy misery + Shall soon exceed even thy trespasses, + Which in themselves are countless as the stars. + Be cursed, and live accursed and die accursed! + And be my witnesses, O, all ye gods! + + [_She turns toward Appius--her attitude becomes calm, and + majestic._ + + And as for thee--I fear thee not. My curse + Shall rest on thee according to thine actions. + This much I have to say--thy tyranny + And rule of blood is waning to its close. + Beware, nor haste thy doom before its time. + + _Marc._ (_trembling_). Seize on her, some of you, for she is mad. + + _One of the multitude._ Nay, she is gifted with strange prophecy. + She voices Jove. + + [_A tumult now arises in the background. Icilius springs forward + with a cry._ + + _Icilius._ Virginia! Turn to me! + + [_He faces Marcus Claudius, and with one blow strikes him down, + then clasps Virginia in his arms._ + + _Virginia_ (_sobbing wildly_). And hast thou come at last? + + _Icilius_ (_tenderly to her_). Courage, dear heart! + + [_To Appius._ + + Now, as a free-born Roman, I demand + An explanation and a satisfaction! + + [_To Marcus, who essays to speak._ + + Silence, thou hound, ere I forget myself + And murder thee! Thine answer, Appius? + + _Appius._ Lictor, part thou the twain. + + _Icilius._ Thou canst not, lictor! + In common manhood and as her betrothed, + Thus do I hold to her against the world. + + _Appius._ Then, lictor, strike! + + _Virginia._ Now, intervene, ye gods! + Icilius, my love! Oh! men of Rome, + Have ye indeed forgot Lucretia? + + [_Swaying of the multitude. Appius Claudius rises in his car._ + + _Appius._ Be prudent, ye who do desire to see + Full justice. We must hark to every plea, + And will to-morrow judge the case. Till then, + Thou, Marcus, guard the maiden, since the man + Virginius is absent from the town. + + [_A hissing protest from the multitude and a cry from Virginia + follows this announcement. Icilius faces the Chief Decemvir with + blazing eyes, and draws Virginia closer._ + + _Icilius._ Over my body only shall yon hound + Of Hell seize on her. I am yet a man + With strength to shield or life to sacrifice + For that which is mine own. Sleep 'neath his roof? + I'd sooner see her cold upon her bier, + Or bound upon the wheel of Ixion, + Enduring tortures of the damned themselves! + With him? I'd rather cast her to a wolf, + Who, merciful, would tear her into shreds + And leave her pure, or o'er Tarpeia's Rock, + And with mine eyes behold her perfect form + Shattered upon the kindly stones below, + Ere Marcus Claudius lay hands on her. + + _Marius._ Ay, he is right; the maiden yet is free. + The charge hath not been proven, Appius! + + _Appius._ So be it. We will acquiesce thus far, + But lictors must be stationed as a guard + About the house wherein she spends the night, + Lest she escape and law be unfulfilled. + + _Cor._ (_coming forward_). I will go thither and attend this night + Upon her. Thou, Tiberius, return + Home with the slaves. To-morrow meet me here. + + _Slave._ Lady, thy lips are white and thou art ill. + See, thou dost tremble. + + _Cor._ Woman, what of that? + How canst thou weigh my pallor with her pain-- + The anguish in her eyes? What though I shake + As with an ague? She herself is turned + To stone with horror deeper than mine own. + A living sorrow doth exceed a dead; + Death to dishonor seemeth merciful. + _Her_ blow is heavy with the weight of dread, + _Mine_ light with hope. Did she not succor me? + How can I fail her in her time of need? + + _Appius._ Lictors, take into custody yon man. + Lest he do mischief. + + _Icilius._ By the almighty gods! + Unhand me! I will kill thee, as a man + Would kill a beast. Ah! foulest trick to seize + Upon me from the rear. Oh, God! Oh, God! + + [_He sinks helpless upon the stones at Virginia's feet, two + lictors binding him firmly with cords. The storm now breaks, + shrieking in maddest fury, the lightning playing over the hills + of Rome._ + + +SCENE II--A CHAMBER IN THE HOME OF VIRGINIUS. + + _Midnight and darkness, save where the moonlight shimmers + through the columns on the left. Virginia is discovered kneeling + in the sea of radiance as though in prayer. A silence follows + the rise of the curtain; then, low at first, but louder, + clearer, gradually increasing in volume, a hymn breaks from her + lips, she kneeling still._ + + HYMN TO DIANA. + + O, thou virgin-goddess fair, + Look upon me in my sorrow; + Hear, oh, hear mine earnest prayer! + Guard me from the fatal morrow! + Purity is in thy breast + With thy silver moonbeams drest. + + Still my cheek is hot with shame, + And my heart in anguish crying; + Let me keep my spotless name, + Waking, sleeping, living, dying! + Chaste Dian, thy stainless glory + Still resounds in song and story. + + Mount thy ear within the blue, + Waft a whisper to me only! + Thou a heart hast, strong and true, + Think upon the maiden lonely. + Without thee it now would seem + Love were nothing but a dream. + + [_Cornelia suddenly appears from out the gloom behind and puts + her arms about Virginia's neck._ + + _Cor._ Love but a dream? Ah, no! The gods forfend! + + _Virginia._ Ah! Thou! [_Turns and embraces her._ + + _Cor._ No other than this broken heart; + Yet is my soul untouched by human woe, + As thine shall be untouched by human sin. + + _Virginia._ I see the face, with passion fiery, + The full voluptuous lips and greedy eyes, + I see and shudder. + + _Cor._ Marcus Claudius? + + _Virginia._ Nay, but the other. + + _Cor._ I am mystified. + + _Virginia._ None saw as I saw! He alone I fear, + Who on the morrow will decide, dear God!-- + For Marcus--yet not Marcus--but himself; + Allot _me_ as his own. (_Wildly._) I saw his look, + And felt his power! Marcus is the paw + Wherewith great Appius will seize his prey. + (_Laughs._) Virginia, his prey! He leered on me, + And in the whitening of his clenchéd hand + I marked the clash and clangor of his soul. + Dear gods! The feet of Night are leaden shod, + And yet the precious moments speed too fast. + Oh, Death! had I the courage that thou dost + Demand, I'd summon thee. Methinks I hear + E'en now the distant rustle of thy wings. + And yet--thou tarriest--thou tarriest. + + _Cor._ Would Death might choose me out as willing prey! + + _Virginia._ Dear one, thy voice is weary like the world, + Which is so old and heavy with its years; + And yet thine eyes are bright, undimmed by tears. + + _Cor._ Bright with the pain that kills by slow degrees. + Ah! for Apollo's pestilential dart, + Or but to see the shears of Atropos + Flash in Diana's beams. + + _Virginia_ (_softly_). We loved her light, + Thou--thou and I, when love was all in life, + And those, our own, the twain, Icilius + And brave Sicinius--"Ah, God! Ah, God!" + Thus cried he, my beloved, as he sank + Prone at my feet, a tyrant's prisoner. + + [_Breaks from Cornelia's grasp and glides in anguish to the + curtained doorway on the right._ + + Icilius! Icilius! Come to me! + + [_Enter a lictor--she shrinks back terrified._ + + _Lictor._ Lady, I must exhort thee to be prudent; + Such cries will but confine thee e'en more strait + Than thou art now confined. Silence is best. + So ordered Appius, our gracious lord. [_Exit lictor._ + + _Virginia_ (_sobbing softly_). I will be still! But I am so afraid, + I, innocent, know nothing of the world. + Life-bondage? Nay, methinks I am but mad. + Severed from _him_! Ah! lay me in my grave, + Rather than have my heart torn from my breast. + + [_Music is distantly heard._ + + Oh! If to pass in moonbeams from this life + Mid the pure notes of music stealing on + Into my brain and sinking in my breast, + Enveloping my soul; or to the sound + Of rushing wind--that music of the gods + Swept by Apollo's hand, or harking to + The distant murmur of the restless sea, + Striking its pearly harp of mystic sounds, + Echoed within the caves where maidens dwell, + Nereides and Oceanides, + With faces like the sheen of moonbeams, forms + Like the white foam their sire, Neptune, makes + When angered, with his trident! If to sleep, + Sleeping, to dream, and dreaming, live again + The years that now lie white upon their bier. + + [_The moon vanishes behind a cloud._ + + Ah, me! I am so utterly alone! + The moon hath veiled herself, the silence drear + Knocks on my heart, unhidden enters in, + Where once love and sweet innocence, in peace + Dwelt, all unscarred by a despoiler's hand. + It is grown cold! What was that sound I heard? + I am so sunk in solitude, so wrapped + In vacant space, so chilled, I gasp for breath, + Like drowning mariner; but for a hand + Warm, loving, to uplift me from this death + Among the living, life among the dead! + + _Cor._ Virginia! Weep or pray, but do not so! + Alas, Virginia, art thou turned to stone? + + [_Virginia, all unhearing, turns once more toward the columns + where the moon again shines through._ + + _Virginia_ (_singing_). + "In the deep dream-light thy bark thou art guiding, + Shifting thy garments, the clouds, as a sail. + Rocked o'er celestial waves thou art riding, + Hiding thy features behind a light veil. + + Dian, the spell of thy muteness cast o'er me. + Calm the wild tumult which wars in my brain, + E'er through my life may thine image, before me. + Shining and constant as ever remain." + + [_A silence falls. Virginia steals up to Cornelia, who stands + weeping alone._ + + My comfort hath not been denied me--see, + The moonbeams bear the message from the sky. + I hear a song which issues from the stars, + A song of love and hope for a reunion; + Re-born, we, who have loved and lost, shall live + Afar from sin amid the Blessed Isles, + And walk together, soul with soul, and heart + With heart; no drop of passionate blood shall be + Lost in our death, but we shall throb with love, + And laugh amid the light of suns to be. + + [_A pause. Softly a dim gray light steals through the columns; + the moon is sinking slowly. Cornelia turns in sudden terror._ + + Farewell, immortal friend, go to thy rest; + Thy kindly watch is o'er. + + _Cor._ Virginia, see! + Now dawns the cruel day when thou--when thou-- + Ye gods have mercy on us twain this day! + + [_Sobs wildly._ + + _Virginia_ (_pointing to the east_). It steals with + faltering steps and blushing cheeks. + Call it not cruel; it has wept for me. + The dew is heavy. + + (_Voice of lictor without._) See, it is the dawn. + Look, comrades! + + _Virginia_ (_starting as from out a dream_). + Ah, Cornelia! Sure, I sleep. + Is this my father's house? This four-walled cell, + This prison, and am I Virginia? + Could it have been but yesterday I woke + Within this chamber from a happy dream. + I dreamed of _him_, my love, Icilius, + And woke still with his kiss upon my lips. + I can recall the flood of morning light, + A billowed sea of light upon the wall. + I watched the changing pools and shifting waves, + And smiled; the music of the fount without, + In rising cadence, played within mine ears, + And presently the stirring of the maids + And hum of spinning reached me and I rose, + Glad, with the day. And now--Cornelia, touch + My cheek lest I be vanishing to air; + Feel if my heart yet beats. Methinks I'm dead; + Even this moment but a roving ghost. + + _Cor._ Courage, Virginia. Why, much hope is left! + To-day thy father will return, and he + Would place his soul in jeopardy for thee. + + _Virginia._ Courage, ay, courage! I am brave again. + It is the dawn. Cornelia, we will seek + The outer court and wash our tears away + In the cool fountain. Once again my cheek + Is hot with spirit and my heart beats swift + With hope and newborn trust in those I love. + + [_Exeunt the two, their arms wound round each other and + Cornelia's lips pressed to Virginia's cheek._ + + +SCENE III--THE FORUM. + + _A multitude has gathered. Appius is in the judgment seat, with + Marcus Claudius stationed beside him. Many women are weeping and + the men appear silent and angry. Appius is surrounded by a guard + of lictors. Cornelia and Tiberius are seated on the left in a + car drawn by slaves. Near the center are gathered Galba, + Hortensius, Horatius, and Marius._ + + _Marius._ This vast suspense weighs on me heavily; + I would not see that gentle maiden wronged + For all my world possessions! E'en the gods + Would shriek with horror if yon slave of Dis, + Young Marcus Claudius, should seize on her. + Why doth she not appear? + + _Hort._ She and her father, + Who hath returned, hot-foot, from camp to her, + Tarry about the town, and every man + They meet they do address with exhortations + And prayers for justice and for witnesses, + That this gross tale which men do know is false + Shall be so proven. Yet all Rome is prone + Beneath the foot of Appius and his nine + Vile colleagues. Fear is most tyrannical, + Justice is dying, Mercy now is dead. + + _Marius._ Then God alone can help the wretched maid! + + _Hor._ (_hotly_). Nay, shall she be defiled and made a slave? + Not while my hands are free, my body quick + With lifeblood, and my heart a man's. Why she + Is pure and frail as is the mountain snow. + Happy the man who stands her champion. + Happy Icilius, our young tribune! + + [_Enter Virginius in mean, plebeian garments and Virginia simply + clothed in white, her dark hair loose. A murmur of sympathy and + admiration greet their appearance, quickly suppressed. Enter + from the other side Icilius, vainly struggling in the hands of + armored soldiers. His hair is wild and greatly disheveled, his + features white and drawn with agony._ + + _Icilius._ Virginia! Ah, my God! Virginia! + + _Virginia._ My Love! My Love! My Love! + + [_He stretches out his bound arms toward her, and in a moment + with a cry she runs to him, regardless of the gazing world, and + kneeling at his feet kisses with fervor the hands in bondage for + her sake. Murmurs from the multitude._ + + _Appius_ (_rising to his feet, his face aflame_). Back, girl! Back + from him! Lictor, part the twain! + + [_Lictor unwillingly obeys, whereat Virginia rising slips away + from him to her father's side. Virginius advances, with his hand + uplifted, toward the judgment seat._ + + _Virginius._ Delay no longer in the trial of + This matter. We demand in common justice + A hearing, and at once, O, Appius! + + _Galba_ (_aside to his friends_). Mark yonder man upon the + judgment-seat. + Methinks 'tis he who coveteth the virgin, + And Marcus but his instrument. Ah, see! + The Chief is moved to acquiesce. Methinks + He fears this pleb as he once feared Sicinius. + + _Appius_ (_haughtily_). And now begins the judgment. Silence, all! + My client, Marcus Claudius, step forth. + + [_The man obeys. Virginia, shuddering, looks only at her + father._ + + _Appius._ Repeat thy statement, Claudius, we wait. + + _Marc._ O, noble Chief, and all ye men of Rome, + I but reiterate my words to-day + Spoken in explanation of my course + Of action yesternoon. A woman came + Unto the house of Appius, one moon + Ago, and came to perish on our hands. + But ere she died she made a full confession + Of having served in early years the wife + Of this our citizen, Virginius, + Who ignorantly hath been foully wronged, + For whom we feel the deepest sympathy, + And unto whom I now address myself. + + [_Turns to Virginius._ + + O, good centurion, this maid is not + Thy child in blood; but, as I said, was born + Of a slave woman in my house. Thy babe + Died on the moment of its birth. Thou wert + Away in service. Dost thou not recall? + + _Virginius_ (_in calm affirmative_). Yea, that I do recall. + (_Aside._) Thou fiend of hell! + + _Marc._ (_triumphantly_). Has he not said? This slave, who did confess + To us the truth, declared that she had played + The thief and crept most slyly to my house, + Stolen the infant of my nurse and slipped + Out, 'mid the night and gloom, which, friendly, hid + Her dastard deed. Virginia is the babe, + And, therefore, lawfully belongs to me. + + _Icilius._ Ye gods! + + _Multitude._ No proofs? No evidence? + + _Marc._ (_proudly_). My word! + + [_Much laughter and some hissing._ + + _Appius._ Silence! Virginius, speak, and be as brief + As the occasion will allow. Proceed. + + _Virginius._ Ye men of Rome! To you, and you alone, + I speak in my defense, for lo! in you + I see the qualities of common justice, + Or faintest sense of mercy, which is rare-- + And less, indeed, unto the point in hand. + For all these forty years I've lived in Rome, + A Roman 'mongst the Romans, brave amongst + The brave, and serving, ere I came of age, + My mother city. Have I shown myself + In any manner base, corruptible, + Or lying, either by my word or deed? + Ye all are witnesses of me--each man + Can see and know the truth as God can see. + This is my babe, of me begotten, born + Of her whom I so loved--her mother. Lo! + The very luster of her ebon hair + Bespeaks the woman who in honor bore + Virginia. See! The tremble of her lip. + I do not willingly display my flesh + And blood to gaze of multitudes, but that + My straits are desperate. Look upon her hand-- + The long, brown fingers are a copy true + Of these, though mine are knotted by the grip + Of sword and the guiding of the plow. + And now her eyes--Ah, no! I say too much. + Ye gods of Heaven speak for me this day! + + [_He bows his head upon Virginia's shoulder._ + + _Appius._ He faints with sudden revelation from + The gods of what is manifestly true. + Virginius, thou art deluded, or + A man, of old, deceptive. + + _Virginia._ 'Tis a lie! + He is Virginius, no more, no less! + And 'tis enough, as Rome can witness to. + Thou art not worthy to crawl on the ground + And kiss the hand which hath these many years + Battled for Rome! Thou canst but harm our flesh. + His name and mine are unstained as the flame + On Vesta's altar. + + [_Turns to where Icilius is struggling vainly in the hands of + the guard._ + + Peace, Icilius! + Of what avail is aught to such as these? + Small hope is left--and yet, O, Appius, + Wert thou not born of woman? For the one + Who gave thee life, respect her sisters now. + Let mercy dawn within thy hardened breast, + Speak but one word--one word--and many lives + Will leap and live again. Look down upon + And honor this grey head, now bowed so low; + The only stay and comfort in his age + Wouldst tear from him? His years in solitude + Will roll away, a never-ending tide. + Ye Romans, look upon your citizens, + Protect your women--lest indignant Jove + Lightnings shall send upon you, or the shield + Of Mars be taken from its sanctuary. + + [_Icilius at this moment breaks from the grasp of the soldiers + and leaps to Virginia's side. The girl lifts his bound hands and + places them against her breast, raising her eyes to his._ + + Icilius! I heard a ringing laugh, + And saw, as in a vision, a young child-- + Our flesh and blood--our souls' inheritor. + I saw adorning me, in the strange dream, + A wedding garland fresh, not clanging chains. + O, if to die within thine arms! But stay! + My father--see the workings of his face! + He suffers. Father, we shall meet again + In the Elysian fields, when I am free! + + _Appius._ Fools! Cease your maudlin tragedy! Disperse! + Come forward, slave, the judgment hath been passed. + + _Cor._ (_starting_). The judgment, and so soon! + + _Tiberius_ (_leaping from the car_). It is not so! + Virginia, stay awhile! + + _Icilius_ (_aside_). Unbind my hands, Virginia! + + _Virginia._ The knot is hard and I am dazed. I tremble. + Love, wilt thou sacrifice thy life for me? + + _Icilius._ Ah! some one loose me of these cursed bonds! + + [_He is seized by the soldiers and again forced from the young + girl's side. Cornelia steps from her car, and coming forward + kneels at the feet of Appius._ + + _Cor._ Lord Appius, behold a broken heart, + But one with gentle blood from noble veins + Forever fed. Though proud, I kneel to thee. + O, loose her bonds--restore her liberty-- + And I my wealth, my house, and e'en my life + Shall give to thee or this thy servant here. + Deep down into the dust I do incline + Myself, who am a lady of the best + And noblest line in Rome. I offer thee + My services, if thou wilt free the maid + Who did befriend me in mine hour of need. + + _Virginia._ Cornelia! To me! Nay, it shall not be! + Thou friend of friends, such sacrifice is vain. + One kiss alone I ask of thee--one kiss-- + Then silence! See, Tiberius weeps for thee. + + [_Tiberius springs with a cry into Cornelia's arms. The two draw + off together. The four citizens come forward._ + + _Galba._ O, Appius, we offer thee our lives + To do with as thou wilt--but loose the maid! + + _Appius._Petitioners, ye gods, from every side? + It shall not be, for she is Marcus' slave. + The judgment has been passed, and I have spoken! + + [_A murmuring._ + + Make way! The master comes to take his slave! + + [_Confusion. Appius rises, his face ablaze with passion._ + + Make way, ye fools! I'll call my colleagues here + With all their lictors. There will be bloodshed! + Make way! + + _Icilius._ Ah! but to have my hands about + His throat, though for a moment, for a breath; + Though for a heart-beat and, beyond me, Hell! + + _Virginia_ (_in a voice of agony_). Father! My father! + + _Virginius._ Quiet, little girl! + O, Appius, the final shred of hope, + The weakened flame, is gone--forever gone. + Before we part, indeed, one moment grant + To us aside, that I may speak with her. + + _Appius._ Haste, then, old pleb! Nor tarry long for tears. + + _Virginius._ Tears? What are they? My heart is dead and barren, + My soul athirst for death. Tears mean no more + To me than rain upon a broken stone. + + [_He leads the girl aside. All watch in breathless silence._ + + _Virginia._ O, Heavenly Powers above, deliver me, + By whirlwind or by sword, from this dread place! + Father, farewell! [_Presses his hand to her lips._ + + _Virginius._ Ah! Touch it not! + + [_Snatches a knife from a butcher._ + + Thus only can I make thee free, my daughter! + + [_He plunges it into her bosom and she falls back into the arms + of Icilius, who has freed himself and leaps to her side with a + cry. Tumult and swaying of the crowd._ + + (_Brandishing knife._) With this blood, Appius! thy life and thee + Devote I to perdition! + + [_Makes his way with the knife through the multitude. Icilius + lays her body down, murmuring,_ "Virginia, by thy blood shall + Rome be free!" [_Exit._ + + [_Camilla kneels as though stunned beside the prostrate body._ + + _Tiberius._ Ah me! Ah me! Virginia! + + [_Sinks beside her._ + + +(_Curtain._) + + _It rises again to show the collected army, with Virginius and + Icilius at the head. Appius is about to leave the seat, his + cloak around his head. Several lictors have fallen to the + ground. Camilla still kneels beside the body, gazing vacantly + before her. Virginia's dark hair falls like a shroud around + her._ + + +(_Curtain._) + + + + +POEMS + + + + +STEWARDSHIP. + + + What can I do for Thee, Almighty God, + Whose breath can wake, whose voice can calm, the sea? + Should I endeavor, with this striving brain, + Which, in its striving, errs, and, erring, turns, + And, fearful, flies from its appointed field-- + With these weak hands, that blindly grope along + The road of Truth to higher things, uplift + Those fallen by the way, whom Thou didst name + My brothers? I, to the sad, ancient world, + Speak, in unfaltering accents, of my soul's + Instinctive yearnings, loftiest ideals, + And holiest hopes of the fair destiny + Of all my fellow-souls, who tread the way? + When One has left a message, sweet, divine, + Eternal, for the fainting world to read, + Should I arise and cry, an echo faint, + Of His all-satisfying tones of Love, + And lisp my dreams of Truth? I am afraid! + Yet, trembling, still I dare not to be mute. + Remembering His vast Love, I can not choose + But humbly say the lessons I have learned. + Teach me, O God, to feel Thy silences, + And hear Thy voice aright, in wind and wave; + Teach me the upward look of Faith and Hope, + Which lifts, nor ever drags the spirit down; + Teach me the tender touch and the warm smile + Of a deep, all-embracing heart, whose light + Is the sweet essence of true Charity! + + + + +THE SEA GULL. + + + Strong-winged soul of the lifting sea, + Bird of the gale, + Launch thyself from the crags, and fly + Over the crested waves, nor sigh + For the sheltered home, but gladly hail + The sea and the open sky! + + High, low, high, low, + Over the foam, + Gliding level with the mast, + Darting close above the vast + Roll of billows--then come home, + And hide thee from the blast. + + Once again, thy pinions free + Spread to the speaking breeze! + Forward, like a mermaid light, + Onward, like to a soul as white + As the curling foam of the singing seas, + Nor shrink from the coming night. + + Rolling fog and fading light, + Spread and sail! + Fold thy pinions, breast the deep, + In the darkness, Spirit, sleep, + Soul of the gale! + + + + +MT. VERNON. + + + Home of the Dead! One glance of lingering love + We cast behind us, where our vessel's wake + Winds, foaming, backward to Virginian hills. + Home of the Dead! Retreating from thy shores + We breathe a final sigh, a last farewell. + The pillared mansion gleams amid the green, + The sombre tomb, deserted, stands alone; + While, over all, a thousand beacons burn. + The West displays a canopy of sky, + Woven by angels, flung across the hills, + Where sleeps the silent dust of Washington. + + Bleak is the wind that leaps like blade unsheathed + From out the silver scabbard of the East! + At hide and seek, among the ruffled waves, + The eerie shadows play in elvish glee. + A thief, Night steals the golden glories bright + Of Day. But still a flush of silken rose + Colors the West, stains the broad river's breast, + And casts a garland 'cross the Eastern sky. + + Behold, on either shore, reflected green, + Dim in the dying lustre of the sun, + While tips of rose, like diadems, adorn + And wreathe the gracious brows of drowsy hills. + Behold and marvel! See and comprehend! + Amid this beauty lies the sacred dust + Of one who was a hero and a man, + While all the hills that sleep about his tomb + Shine with the glory of God's holy light. + + + + +MY MOTHER. + + + Has she faded from my skies forevermore, + Like a star that slides adown the arch of Night, + Or the sunlight, swiftly paling on the shore + Of my boundless sea of hopes, that glittered bright + In the lustre of her smile? Is she gone forevermore? + Or has she but departed for a while? + + Shall I never feel her hand upon my brow? + Shall I never meet her lips in kisses sweet? + Or is it that I am denied her now, + And some day shall hear the music of her feet, + And, like Proserpine, will come, with the happy winds that blow, + Leap the years, and find, in her, my final home? + + + + +THE CRADLE SONG. + + + Adown the vista of the years, + I turn and look with silent soul, + As though to catch a muted strain + Of melody, that seems to roll + In tender cadence to my ear. + But, as I wait with eyes that long + The singer to behold--it fades, + And silence ends the Cradle Song. + + But when the shadows of the years + Have lengthened slowly to the West, + And once again I lay me down + To sleep, upon my mother's breast, + Then well I know I ne'er again + Shall cry to God, "How long? How long?" + For, to my soul, her voice will sing + A never-ending Cradle Song. + + + + +OUT OF THE DARK. + + + Out of the Dark that shrouded Thee, my Lord, + Upon that day of Passion and of Pain, + There rose a cry from Thee which rent the sky, + Piercing the shadows of the noontide gloom + In vibrant tones that rang with agony + Supreme, and, with the strength of holy grief, + Divine despair, rolled upward on the wings + Of Mystery unto the eternal Throne-- + "Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!" + + Out of the dark that lies about my soul, + Upon this day of sorrow and of pain, + I lift mine eyes and gaze with prayerful heart + Upon the tortured image of my Lord, + Then lo! the sombre shadows melt away, + And round my spirit glows a wonderous light, + By thine own Cross and Passion, blessed Lord, + And by that mystic moment of despair, + Thy world shall never know Thine awful Woe, + Nor cry to God in agony supreme-- + "Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!" + + + + +NIOBE. + +(Dedicated to the statue of Niobe, in the Uffizi Palace, Florence, +Italy.) + + + Oh! form of perfect woe, in grief unending! + Soul-anguish, mortal pangs, in marble moulded! + Oh, sobs! by us unheard, that bosom rending! + Oh, tender form! within those arms enfolded! + + With heart undaunted, has the Mother striven + Against Death's vengeance, e'en within its portal; + And when her soul with horror most is riven, + Woman, she dares to face the wrath immortal. + + So, through the ages, see those forms united + In an eternal clasp. Ah, woe transcendent! + Upon that face, its beauty all unblighted, + We read the Mother-love, supreme, resplendent! + + + + +TO THE GENIUS OF DEATH, BY CANOVA. + + + Genius of Death! Thou form as white and slim + As moonbeams, falling through the awful dome + Above thee when the deathlike night draws down; + Speak, through those sweet, still lips, whose solemn curve + Alone gives token of thine ancient, dread + Supremacy! Say that thou art not Death, + But holy Calm or silent hushed Repose. + Still are thy stern lips dumb, no hopeful breath + Exhaling! Then, from them, do I appeal + To something more divine. O'er that calm brow + And carven face, uplifted from the tomb + In speechless faith, there shines a wondrous light + That mocks the awful declaration there. + Genius of Death thou canst not be, for lo! + Thou art the Soul of Immortality! + + + + +TO THE WINGED VICTORY OF SAMOTHRACE. + + + "Winged Victory?" Unworthy is that name, + Thou marble miracle of endless Time! + I see thee standing yonder in the light, + Upon thy rude and lonely pedestal, + A shape as strange as it is beautiful. + To me, thou art a wingéd mystery, + For where, in all the ages of the past, + Years of the present, centuries to come, + Can there be found creation like to thee, + Conceived by God or Man? A miracle; + Marble in motion--yet divinely still, + As though it paused to hear its own low breath-- + Yet breathes not; pacing on its lonely height-- + Yet stirs not; heavenly wings outspread, with chaste + Angelic curve--yet not in flight extended. + Thou art not of the living nor the dead. + Thy wings do breathe of immortality, + Of Heavenly Presence, yet thy headless form, + In all its marred and mutilated grace, + Points to the clay. How can we solve thee, then? + Enigma so profound was never known + Among the many countless works of Man. + Thou art incarnate Mystery itself, + Brooding above the world; the Universe + Lies in the shadow of thine outspread wings-- + Thou silent Spirit of the Infinite! + + + + +BEATRICE TRIUMPHANT. + +(To Beatrice Cenci, as she is depicted in Guido Reni's painting of St. +Michael and the Dragon.) + + + Gold hair, blown back from radiant brow, + Crowning, like light, a maiden, martyred head, + Feet planted on the "Dragon," prone, + And mighty wings in victory outspread. + In thee what change, divinely wrought! + What wondrous resurrection from the dead! + + He lies, beneath thy righteous feet, + Who, cruel craven, caused thee to be slain; + He writhes who let thee agonize, + A captive and in undeservéd pain, + And crawls, in sight of all the world, + Forever rendered loathsome by that stain! + + And thou, bright dream of brooding light, + With woman's face and angel's stature, thou + Exquisite seraph, fresh from God, + Tell me, why wakes no awful vengeance now + On thy grave lips? Oh! Woman, wronged, + Unfold the mystery of that calm brow! + + + +THE CALL OF THE IRISH SEA. + + + Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea, + That spreads so free, gray Irish Sea-- + Your freedom mocks the shores you beat + With the booming tread of your angry feet; + The Celtic heart no longer sings + To the rhythmic rush of Freedom's wings! + Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea, + Chant Freedom's dirge, wild Irish Sea! + + Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea, + You call to me, gray Irish Sea, + I hear the harp-strings of the North, + And stirring bagpipes thrilling forth; + I dream the dreams of olden days, + I hear bold Ossian chant his lays! + Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea, + You call to me, wild Irish Sea! + + + + +THE LION OF LUCERNE. + + + Hid in a hushed retreat, a lovely dell, + Where Mother Nature sings low lullabies, + And weaves her silence like a sacred spell, + Beneath the light of deep and tender skies, + In his lone agony the Lion lies. + + Colossal creature of a sculptor's brain, + Are you the marble that you seem to be? + Inanimate, untouched by mortal pain? + Within that form, and yearning to be free, + Your soul must wrestle with Death's mystery! + + There is a height Self-sacrifice may climb, + Nearer the throne of God than any star, + A height above the wasting tide of Time, + Beyond the din of Earth's discordant jar-- + A height that untried souls scarce see afar. + + On that great height the Lion of Lucerne, + With face half-human, with majestic brow, + Lies stretched. Oh, Love! that will forever burn + On Pain's dread altar, you alone can know + The glory and the recompense for Woe! + + + + +SONNET TO NIAGARA FALLS. + + + As on the brink of that which men call Death, + Standing 'twixt Time and dread Eternity, + We pause to gaze with fear-suspended breath + On that abyss, whose depths we can not see, + So now, I stand, above thy thundering fall, + Thou Miracle, of marvels most supreme, + Who summons all the world, with trumpet call, + To adore the heavenly genius of thy stream! + In 'wildering confusion, mad disdain + Of earthly trammels, earthly tyrannies, + Shrieking, like legions of damned souls in pain, + Roaring rebellion 'neath the silent skies, + Fearful as Death, still thou dost seem to cry, + "I am the symbol of Eternity!" + + + + +THE LOST HEART. + +(A Rondeau.) + + + Where is my heart? Ah! Love, I dare not say, + I only know that it is hid away, + Somehow,--somewhere,--and somewhat restless there. + But safely hid away,--poor heart, somewhere. + + I strive to call it back to me, but nay,-- + That willful heart refuses to obey. + And do you ask, thus, in your sad, sweet way-- + You, Love, who know so well its secret lair, + Where is my heart? + + Alone, I wait and wonder, day by day, + At the poor, pulsing heart, that went astray, + Once, in the mazes of a woman's hair. + Could it forsake a labyrinth so fair? + No need for you to ask, for me to say-- + Where is my heart? + + + + +IS HE NOT MINE? + + + Is he not, mine? Although he drift from me + Into the Ocean of the Far Away, + Across the tideless and the awful sea + Of Time, while I alone must mutely stay + Within the doorway of a darkened Day; + Although he shake the dust from his light feet, + Dust of my warm Heart's Garden, yet I hold, + My Love forever, radiant, complete. + He breathes upon me when spring buds unfold, + He smiles upon me from the roses' gold; + I hear him in the tender melody + Of mating bird; his laugh rings, glad and free, + In every breeze; like stars his dear eyes shine; + His spirit is a presence, half-divine, + Which clasps, enfolds my being like a sea! + Is he not mine? + + +TWO GIFTS. + + + She laughingly gave me a rose, one day, + And the thorns were sharp,--but the rose was red, + And fragrant and warm from the sun's bright ray, + So I clasped the rose, though my fingers bled,-- + And it fluttered in petals away. + + She mockingly offered her heart, one day, + And I clasped what she gave, though my own heart bled, + I gazed in her eyes, and her soft hair lay + On my lips, and I laughed,--though the heart was dead, + And crumbled to dust away! + + + + +THE MOONFLOWER. + + + Earth star of the evening, full moon of the twilight, + Pale soul of the dusk, like a virgin in white, + With slow graceful motion, so stealthy, so silent, + She opens her heart to the kisses of night. + + Chaste blossom, ah! thus, when my own Love approaches, + And bends o'er my spirit with fervor divine, + Thus would I lay bare, in unbounded devotion, + A heart pure and tender and fragrant as thine! + + + + +THREE KISSES. + + + A rampant wind, on a golden day, + Sported and played with a wild, wild rose, + He woke her soul from its mute repose, + He kissed the heart of the wild, wild rose, + And, kissing,--kissed her leaves away,-- + And now the wind goes sighing. + + Love won me, on a golden day, + He woke my soul, with a kiss sublime, + And the whole world vanished, and Death and Time + Seemed nought at the touch of that kiss sublime! + Love, kissing,--kissed my heart away, + And now Love goes rejoicing. + + An Angel came, on pinions gray, + In his cold, white arms he clasped my Love! + Earth reeled, the sun went out above. + Oh! God! I saw Death kiss my Love, + And, kissing,--kiss his soul away-- + And now my soul goes wailing! + + + + +A SONG OF THE WEST. + + + Into the glowing West! + And lo! the vast and sunburnt plains unfold, + An endless, rippling, tideless sea of gold, + Our own dear Mother's breast; + The gaunt, the silent earth, + The bare, brown land without a single tree + Or blossom as a home for bird or bee, + It lies, endures the dearth, + And smiles in spite of thirst + And parched and craving lips. This is the best, + The better land, my own, my noble West. + + Into the West! + Green, verdant with the strength of endless light, + Immortal sunlight, radiant and bright! + Where man may work, may rest: + This is my paradise, + A land of flowers and of singing seas, + Of hoary mountain tops and giant trees, + Beneath vast arching skies, + Skies that are eloquent + With sympathy and soft, and deep and true, + Gray only when we weary of the blue, + Cloudless and all content. + + Into the West! + That mother of great men who sing her praise, + Who marvel o'er her miracles and ways, + As free and unsuppressed + As ocean's roll. + Say, O, ye creatures of the further sea, + What know ye of her grace and melody, + The grandeur of her soul? + + + + +TO ESTHER. + + + As Night, before the dawn, + In starry splendor, seems to brood + Above the world, which waits the morn, + Yet worships Night in melancholy mood, + As Night, in whom a solemn passion lies, + So brood and beam my Esther's midnight eyes. + + As sunlight on a rose + In flashing radiance seems to glow, + Warming the tender heart within, + To life and love; as early beams bestow + Upon that rose a soul which can beguile + A hundred hearts, so beams my Esther's smile. + + As love-birds, in the Spring, + Sing on the sylvan boughs at noon, + And mating-calls in echoes ring, + Or oft at night they whisper to the moon; + As stream responds to stream with tender art, + So, to mine own, replieth Esther's heart. + + As sea to distant sea, + In grand response to Passion's cry, + Declares its own vast mystery, + And answers wild entreaties with a sigh; + As waves to waves melodiously roll, + So sings to me forever--Esther's soul. + + + + +THE THRUSH. + + + It was the Thrush,--it was the joyous Thrush, + Who, with his beauteous voice, the woods addressed! + He sank from heavens unseen, and in the hush + Of floating fragrance and soft-slumbering flowers, + Dozing beneath the spell of sun-bright hours, + His summer shower of song the glade's deep heart caressed. + + Bright, speckle-breasted, angel-throated bird! + He tilted on the hedge, and piped and wooed; + Now here a note, now there, so low 'twas heard, + Ofttimes, by one deep listening ear, one only, + The ear of Silence; he, her minstrel lonely. + Was it for her divine mute blessing that he sued? + + How often I have watched him in the grass, + Familiar, small, erect, and bravely dressed + In spotted golden-brown; have seen him pass + Alertly to and fro, all blithely springing, + With elfin bounds; no longer wildly winging; + Content with Mother Earth, as though he loved her breast. + + Earth born, sky destined, living harp of song, + Beloved Thrush, pour forth your notes divine! + Whether to earth or heaven you most belong, + What the vast purpose of your melody, + Your mystic glory, your bright ecstasy, + I know not,--only this, your soul is sweet to mine. + + + + +THE LIGHT OF THE STAR. + + + Dank were the grewsome alleys of the town, + Dingy the houses of the dreary street; + The very dogs reflected degradation, + Gaunt, wolfish; while God's flowers of creation, + Young children, lacking all that makes life sweet, + Through the foul-smelling night ran up and down. + + Under a dull street light I watched them play, + Shrilling in high-pitched and unchildlike tones, + Daring the perils of the tainted city. + Then, in my heart, the horror and the pity + For human kind that in such blackness groans + Rose, and I could not drive the pall away. + + Amid such concrete evils, inbred sin, + I, groping, questioned, could Christ's kingdom come, + By any means? How could he ever enter + At wealthy portals strong, where self is center, + Or at the darkened doors of spirits dumb, + Dulled by the ancient slums' unceasing din? + + But, glancing upward, in my deep distress-- + Myself so small an atom of my race-- + I saw, above the dreadful hovels shining, + A single star. It seemed, my pain divining, + To answer from illimitable space, + And with its rays to sanctify and bless. + + Witness it bore of Law by which worlds move, + Light of the Soul, the Everlasting Mind, + Which--in its compass Earth and Heaven holding-- + Is ever like some shining scroll unfolding, + And will unfold with Time, till all mankind + Shall read Life's one solution, perfect Love. + + + + +THE MESSAGE OF THE PINES. + + + Tall Southern pines, with hearts of mystic throbbing, + Stretch your restless, weary boughs across the sunset sky, + Dark Southern pines, whose souls are ever sobbing, + I would roam through these dim aisles and learn the music of your + sigh. + Hark! the wail of hearts that can not weep! + Hush! the sigh of souls that long to sleep! + + Tall Southern pines, I seek these silent places + Only in my memory--a memory beside me moves. + Dark Southern pines, I love your solemn spaces, + And there in spirit walk, and with her spirit seek the quiet groves. + Hark! the moan of human hearts that yearn! + Hush! the plaint of dreams that would return! + + Tall Southern pines, I wrong you in my sorrow. + Harps divine, you chant a dream not passed, but yet to come! + Our two souls shall walk together, on some perfect morrow, + And through the years remain together, when your voices all are + dumb. + Hark! her spirit whispers in the grove! + Hush! I feel the presence of my Love! + + + + +THE LOST SUNBEAM. + + + Through fairy green of willows old, + Aslant the stately, virgin, cold + Form of the sycamore, + Where poplars laugh, where beeches pray, + Where breezes sigh, where streamlets sing, + And birds are ever caroling, + One morn, I saw a sunbeam stray; + This single, holy, radiant ray + On the wide earth had lost its way, + Escaped through Heaven's half-open door. + + "Where will the sunbeam find its home?" + I idly wondered. "Will it roam + Until it makes its nest + Perhaps in some dear baby's hair?" + But no! a baby's tresses shine + With their own radiance divine-- + The sun of Heaven is always there. + Or would it find a secret lair + In flowery heart? Nay, in that rare, + Deep cell, God's sun long found its rest. + + So the lone sunbeam strays at will, + And longs for Heaven and rest, until + Into the silent grove, + An old man, crippled by disease, + Creeps down the path, with weary eyes. + That are too worn to seek the skies, + With palsied limbs and shaking knees, + And fixed, dull stare, that only sees + The stony ground. Oh! stately trees! + Shade this drear form with arms of love! + + As he pursues his lonely way + Through the green wood, the shining ray + Straightway appears to dart + To that bent form, and seems to light + A glory in the thin white hair; + Then, restless still, it makes its lair + In the sad eyes, so dim of sight, + And, smiling through the sombre night, + It deeper sinks, a radiance bright, + And nestles in the old man's heart. + + + + +HERITAGE. + +(To my Mother.) + + + Everything beautiful centered in you! + All that is fair, in your spirit, my Sweet, + From the depths of the sea to the height of the blue, + Lies now at my feet. + + They are gems, they are gems you have scattered so free, + From your zenith of thought they have fallen like rain, + From the height of your love they descended to me, + In the midst of my pain! + + Thoughts like the ocean and dreams like the morn, + Pure and unsullied, most holy and true; + Dear Love, in my being there shines a new dawn, + Whose light is from you! + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + + Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Virginia, A Tragedy, by Marion Forster Gilmore + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA, A TRAGEDY *** + +***** This file should be named 36214-8.txt or 36214-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/2/1/36214/ + +Produced by David Garcia, David E. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/36214-8.zip b/36214-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe6196b --- /dev/null +++ b/36214-8.zip diff --git a/36214-h.zip b/36214-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1b5fb84 --- /dev/null +++ b/36214-h.zip diff --git a/36214-h/36214-h.htm b/36214-h/36214-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2ceaf21 --- /dev/null +++ b/36214-h/36214-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3608 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Virginia, by Marion Forster Gilmore. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + +p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + +hr {width: 33%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + +table { margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + +.pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} + +.blockquot {margin-left: 18%; margin-right: 18%; text-indent: -1.5em;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.big {font-size: 125%;} +.huge {font-size: 150%;} +.giant {font-size: 200%;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + + + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Virginia, A Tragedy, by Marion Forster Gilmore + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Virginia, A Tragedy + And Other Poems + +Author: Marion Forster Gilmore + +Release Date: May 24, 2011 [EBook #36214] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA, A TRAGEDY *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, David E. Brown, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p class="center"><span class="giant">VIRGINIA</span></p> + +<p class="center">A Tragedy</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="huge">AND OTHER POEMS</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/001.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center"><span class="big">MARION FORSTER GILMORE</span></p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="huge">VIRGINIA</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">A Tragedy</span></p> +<p class="center">AND</p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">OTHER POEMS</span></p> +<p class="center">BY</p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">MARION FORSTER GILMORE</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/005.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center"><span class="big">JOHN P. MORTON & COMPANY</span><br /> +Incorporated<br /> + +LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY<br /> + +<span class="big">1910</span></p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY<br /> +<span class="big">MARION FORSTER GILMORE</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">Dedication</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/001.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center"><span class="big">TO MY FATHER</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td> +Years can not cloud the light of your clear eyes,<br/> +Steadfast and bright with high integrity;<br /> +Nor rob your spirit of the strength that lies<br /> +On those firm lips; nor dim the purity<br /> +Of a high soul, which bears the shield of Love<br /> +Untarnished, as it was upon the day<br /> +When One, with tender faith, desired to prove<br /> +Her "Royal Knight," and gave her heart away.<br /> +Bear her bright shield, and smile, as years roll by—<br /> +Years that have crowned you with the priceless crown<br /> +Of steadfast faith and worldwide charity—<br /> +Until you reap the joy that you have sown,<br /> +In that near land, where, with a light divine,<br /> +The eyes you love through all the ages shine.</td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="blockquot">[Thanks are due to the proprietors of The Cosmopolitan Magazine and +Leslie's Weekly, for their courtesy in allowing the republication herein +of a number of poems which have previously appeared in issues of their +copyrighted magazines.]</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td align="center"><span class="huge">CONTENTS</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><img src="images/009a.png" alt="" /></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td align="right"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Virginia</span></td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><img src="images/009b.png" alt="" /></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Stewardship</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Sea Gull</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Mt. Vernon</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>My Mother</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Cradle Song</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Out of the Dark</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Niobe</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>To the Genius of Death, by Canova</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>To the Winged Victory of Samothrace </td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Beatrice Triumphant</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Call of the Irish Sea</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Lion of Lucerne</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Sonnet to Niagara Falls</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Lost Heart</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Is He Not Mine?</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Two Gifts</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Moonflower</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Three Kisses</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>A Song of the West</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>To Esther</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Thrush</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Light of the Star</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Message of the Pines</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>The Lost Sunbeam</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td>Heritage</td> <td align="right"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="giant">VIRGINIA</span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="giant">A Tragedy</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/013.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Appius Claudius</span>,<br /> +Chief of the Ten and lawgiver of the Romans.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Marcus Claudius</span>,<br /> +His client.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Oppius</span>,<br /> +One of the Ten.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Virginius</span>,<br /> +A Roman centurion; a plebeian.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Icilius</span>,<br /> +A tribune of the commons and lover to Virginia.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Sicinius</span>,<br /> +A plebeian soldier and an enemy of the Decemvirs.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Horatius</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Galba</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Marius</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">Hortensius</span>,<br /> +Four Roman citizens.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Tiberius</span>,<br /> +A boy of noble birth; brother to Cornelia.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ten Decemvirs.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Porter.</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/013.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Virginia</span>,<br /> +Daughter of Virginius.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cornelia</span>,<br /> +A patrician lady, secretly betrothed to Sicinius.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Camilla</span>,<br /> +Nurse to Virginia.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Julia</span>,<br /> +A maid.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Sibyl.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">A Slave Girl in the House of Appius Claudius.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Soldiers, Lictors, Women, Rabble, and Serfs.</span><br /> +</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Setting—Rome. Time—During Supremacy of the Decemvirs.</i></p> + +<p class="blockquot">ACT I—Scene I—The Forum. Scene II—A Street in Rome.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">ACT II—Scene I—The House of Appius. Scene II—Women's Apartments +in the House of Virginius. Scene III—Garden in House of Virginius. +Scene IV—Home of Cornelia.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">ACT III—Scene I—The Forum. Scene II—Home of Virginius. Scene +III—The Forum. </p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="giant">VIRGINIA</span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">A Tragedy</span></p> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/013.png" alt="" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">ACT I.</span></p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene I—The Forum.</span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>A multitude of citizens gathered therein. Disturbance shown among +them by sullen looks and murmurings. Four citizens, two in patrician +and two in plebeian garments, confer together.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p> +<i>1st Cit.</i> Enough, enough! I see we all agree<br /> +Upon this common cause of our grievance;<br /> +Our ranks, our unmixed blood, our differences,<br /> +Are all forgotten—nay, methinks they shall<br /> +In time together mingle when our blood<br /> +Shall be poured forth in this most righteous cause.<br /> +<br /> +<i>2nd Cit.</i> As ever art thou eloquent, O Marius,<br /> +And just; Brutus himself were not more so.<br /> +Patrician and plebeian, equalized<br /> +By common woe, together whisper menace<br /> +To those who work such havoc as, indeed,<br /> +Was never known in Rome until to-day.<br /> +<br /> +<i>3rd Cit.</i> Ye two are nobles; we, the commons are;<br /> +Yet all are leveled by the grief we feel<br /> +For Rome, our mother city, who so low<br /> +Hath fall'n. Hark! the multitude itself<br /> +Is wroth as we, yet, e'en as we, it lacks<br /> +The courage needful for this fierce occasion.<br /> +<br /> +<i>4th Cit.</i> Ay, list indeed! Mark how the murmur swells!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>They turn, and follow with their eyes the gaze of the Roman mob.</i></p> + +<p><i>Voices of lictors</i> (<i>without</i>). Make way, ye Romans, way for the noble Ten!<br /> +<br /> +<i>3rd Cit.</i> Pah! they announce them like to royal kings!<br /> +<br /> +<i>1st Cit.</i> Tyrants are ceremonious to the letter.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Multitude.</i> All hail to the lawgivers! Life and peace<br /> +Unto the Ten!<br /> +<br /> +<i>2nd Cit.</i> Jove's lightning strike them down,<br /> +The turncoats! Ah, the cowards and the curs!<br /> +Perfidious gang of fawners! Do they thus<br /> +Forget their wrongs in the wrongdoer's presence,<br /> +Or veil them with that slime, false loyalty?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter the Ten Decemvirs, each preceded by twelve lictors armed +with fasces.</i></p> + +<p><i>4th Cit.</i> Lo! the presumption! How each lictor bears<br /> +Amongst his rods an axe to indicate<br /> +That life and death lie in his master's word.<br /> +Once was each tyrant pleased with one attendant<br /> +The way to clear—now must they number twelve.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>The Decemvirs pause a space, the while their leader, Appius +Claudius, addresses the assembled citizens.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius.</i> Ye Roman citizens! Unto our ears<br /> +Murmurings hath arrived laden with strife;<br /> +And though this day ye have protested loud<br /> +Your loyalty, and hailed us with acclaim,<br /> +Ye seem but ill-content. This must not be.<br /> +We have been lenient to every class—<br /> +What ye demand in reason ye receive.<br /> +Ye called for written laws, and lo! they hang<br /> +Within the Forum that all eyes may read.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span><br /> +Yet, mark ye! Read not only, but obey,<br /> +Else blood shall pour in torrents on these stones.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Low, angry murmur.</i></p> + +<p>What! would ye show your teeth, ye nobles brave,<br /> +Would bare your fangs, O ye plebeian dogs!<br /> +Your teeth are drawn, patricians, and your fangs<br /> +Are dull, indeed, ye curs!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A hissing protest.</i></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 11em;">What, open schism?</span><br /> +Ho, lictors, strike! Ah! would ye calmer grow?<br /> +Lictors, enough! Now must we on. Our time<br /> +Is pressing.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>As he is on the point of departing with his colleagues, his gaze +is arrested by the passing of a girl, clad all in white, attended by +her nurse, through the Forum.</i></p> + +<p>(<i>To a companion.</i>) Now, by the ghost of Ixion, behold<br /> +Yon perfect vision of most perfect beauty.<br /> +Enchanting grace! Exquisite featuring!<br /> +Youth lightly shadowed by young womanhood!<br /> +My passions, Oppius, are all awake.<br /> +Aflame and spreading fast! Why, I would burn<br /> +All Rome to own her, touch her, feel her near;<br /> +I would receive the curses of the gods,<br /> +Be hurled to lowest Hades, and endure<br /> +The tortures set for Tantalus himself<br /> +If I might call her mine. Her kiss would prove<br /> +Sufficient food for me, her liquid eyes<br /> +Would quench my thirst if I should look within<br /> +And see the tears or draw the starry light<br /> +Into my soul! O, Appius, ye are stricken!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oppius.</i> Peace, peace, mine Appius, the maid is gone—<br /> +Thy looks are wild, thy features are convulsed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span><br /> +With passion.<br /> +<br /> +<i>1st Cit.</i> See, Hortensius, yon man?<br /> +What ails him? Like a madman is his gaze,<br /> +And horrid is his flaming countenance.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oppius.</i> Come, brother, come, my colleague, let's away.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Hands off, O, foolish man, for I am dead<br /> +To protest. I have been by lightning stricken.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oppius.</i> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">It is, indeed, too passionate to be</span><br /> +The wound from Eros' feathered shaft.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius</i> (<i>groaning</i>). <span style="margin-left: 5em;"> Ah! God!</span><br /> +Where has she gone? I can not see her face<br /> +Nor matchless form within the dreary crowd,<br /> +Women I spy in plenty. What a mob<br /> +Of uncouth shapes and homely featuring<br /> +These females are! She was a Cynthia,<br /> +And all beside her, hideous and bold<br /> +Bacchantes. I'll a lictor straight despatch,<br /> +To seize on her, for she belongs to me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Oppius.</i> Nay, fool! Rash fool! Thou art not Jupiter<br /> +In power, that thou darest thus to seize,<br /> +In open daylight, objects of thy lust,<br /> +When they are daughters of free citizens.<br /> +Some shadow of excuse must herald such<br /> +Bold actions, lest the rabble rise in arms,<br /> +As in the days of fair Lucretia!<br /> +Thou canst presume, and yet in thy presumption<br /> +Play the sly part of virtue, ay, and justice,<br /> +Nor seem a mad and bigoted abductor.<br /> +I know the maid; a blameless child of one<br /> +Virginius, a soldier and a pleb.<br /> +Wait, wait, and on the morrow form thy plans,<br /> +But for this moment let the matter rest,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span><br /> +If thou art prudent. Come, let's on; the mob<br /> +Follows thy gaze, noting thy steadfast look.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Speed morrow then. For I am now no better<br /> +Than madman; I, who hold the whole of Rome<br /> +Under my thumb, am raving only for<br /> +Nor heaven nor earth, nor power, nay, nor fame,<br /> +But for the captivation of a maid—<br /> +But for Virginia. Onward, let us on!<br /> +I'll march into the grim, gray gates of eve<br /> +And meet the morrow ere it hath arisen,<br /> +Tear down the portals of the night and force<br /> +My way into the chamber where the morn<br /> +Dozes, a lovely slothful soul of hope,<br /> +And seizing on her, madly I'll demand<br /> +Virginia! <span style="margin-left: 7em;"> [<i>Exeunt.</i></span></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene II—A Street in Rome.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Marius and Horatius, two patricians.</i></p> +<p> </p> +<p> +<i>Marius.</i> He dared! he dared! he dared!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Horatius.</i> <span style="margin-left: 9em;"> And will dare more,</span><br /> +Until Rome wakens from her lethargy<br /> +And is herself again.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marius.</i> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Till then we wait,</span><br /> +Enduring insult, tyranny, from him,<br /> +The common enemy of nobleman<br /> +And pleb.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Horatius.</i> Alas! once was he common friend<br /> +To both—our lawgiver; what changed him so?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marius.</i> A worm of pride that gnawed into his heart,<br /> +A blast of fiery desert wind that dried,<br /> +Withered and seared his noble disposition.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span><br /> +To-day he is a monster, where he was<br /> +But yesterday a leader and a god.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Horatius.</i> He angered the patricians by his show<br /> +Of democratic policy; the plebs<br /> +By barring intermarriage 'twixt the two<br /> +Opposing classes!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter Virginius and Icilius.</i></p> + +<p><i>Virginius.</i> Blessings, health to you!<br /> +Good wishes of a Roman unto Romans.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Horatius</i> (<i>bitterly</i>). Say rather, helpless, sullen, brooding curs!<br /> +We are no more—methinks <i>thou</i> art no more;<br /> +Nor even thou, Icilius, our tribune.<br /> +There are no free, courageous sons of Rome,<br /> +But victims only, cowed beneath the lash<br /> +Of the Decemvirs—curses on their heads!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> Methinks I'm not the dog that thou hast said,<br /> +For 'tis my part and wish to play the man.<br /> +The name of Appius I do despise,<br /> +And only bide my time to bury it<br /> +Deep in the soil, along with him who bears<br /> +Its weight. Although I will not fling myself<br /> +Upon the altar of Unreason as<br /> +A bootless sacrifice, yet am I still<br /> +Nor dog, nor worm, but one who waits and prays,<br /> +Nor prays alone, but puzzles out his plan<br /> +Of action. No, nor plans alone, but strives;<br /> +And striving, must achieve, unless the hand<br /> +Of sudden Death come in to tear the web.<br /> +Friends, we are hard pressed and we pant in pain,<br /> +Yet tyrants, howsoever strong, are still<br /> +Weaker than Justice and are shorter-lived<br /> +Than Liberty, the queen whom Justice serves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span><br /> +Because our wrongs are heavy must we brood,<br /> +And chafe, and curse our stars and Appius?<br /> +What war was ever closed successfully<br /> +With sullen warriors and men untrained,<br /> +Unready or undone by foul Despair?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Thou hast inspired me and curbed my wrath,<br /> +Which held in it no reason, all unbound,<br /> +Ready to leap a lion on its prey.<br /> +Ay, there's a time for all things. I shall wait,<br /> +Knowing, Virginius, that thy words are true.<br /> +Wisdom, the gods be thanked, hath never flowed<br /> +Forth from thy lips in words of honeyed sounds,<br /> +Nor yet in pompous phrases burdened down<br /> +With ponderous eloquence, but bold and frank,<br /> +Shining as bright and ringing forth as true<br /> +As thy good sword that thou hast borne so well<br /> +In camp, palestra, or in battle-field.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> My words are bold, for I am full of grief<br /> +At men's delinquency and heavy souls;<br /> +Frank—ay; because 'tis late to talk in riddles<br /> +Or metaphors, that veil the precious truth<br /> +Within; shining with fervor, ringing true,<br /> +Because the cause I do uphold is true<br /> +As life and death is real.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Horatius.</i> <span style="margin-left: 6em;">Thine eloquence</span><br /> +Is worthy of a better hearing than<br /> +This little company. I would that thou<br /> +Wouldst lead us into action, noble pleb.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> My duties are at present with mine own—<br /> +With her, my fair ewe-lamb; when she becomes<br /> +The spouse of this our friend and our tribune,<br /> +Virginius shall owe himself to none,<br /> +But feel compelled the Commonwealth alone<br /> +To serve. And here's my hand in oath that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span><br /> +Shall serve it well! The gods help Appius!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter Sicinius, in civilian garments.</i></p> + +<p><i>Marius.</i> Greetings, Sicinius, and health to thee!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> And Heaven's favor unto you, my friends.<br /> +How now! All deep in sombre conference?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius</i> (<i>impetuously</i>). Sicinius! What curse hath come to Rome,<br /> +That bends her proud and regal head beneath<br /> +The yoke of shame? The collar of the serf<br /> +Hangs heavy round her haughty neck. Ye gods!<br /> +The mightly Romulus, methinks, must find<br /> +The grave a cell that keeps him from his Rome;<br /> +How must his mighty spirit chafe when he<br /> +Receiveth tidings from the newly dead,<br /> +Concerning this, his city, now so low<br /> +Amid the dust of Wrong and Bigotry!<br /> +Tell us, thou man of action, what bold move<br /> +We needs must make. Oh! be our Œdipus!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Horatius.</i> Hist, noble tribune! Favor silence. These<br /> +Are times of peril; cast thou Caution's die.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius</i> (<i>amazed</i>). What! knowest thou not this man, Sicinius?<br /> +He who has bearded all the noble Ten,<br /> +He whose brave words of indignation ring<br /> +From hill to hill of Rome? Sicinius!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Horatius</i> (<i>sullenly</i>). I have been absent from the town these twelve<br /> +Long moons, nor know I all that thou dost know.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Why, man, look not so sour and so sad.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> Peace, youths! Sicinius hath but little chance<br /> +To speak his mind. I beg of thee that thou,<br /> +Good friend, expound thy views as to these days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><br /> +Of tyranny, for Romans are at bay.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> If I should speak, then would I speak myself<br /> +Into my grave; so twist mine earnest tongue<br /> +As soon would wring it from its fevered roots,<br /> +Mine eyeballs blind themselves with fiery tears<br /> +Of love for Rome; my life would withered be<br /> +With all the curses breathing forth, aflame<br /> +With hate for Appius! Oh, ye gods! in what<br /> +Have we outraged you that we now are cursed<br /> +With such a blight as Famine never cast<br /> +Over the fields of plenty, withering<br /> +Alike the grain and the wild wayside bloom,<br /> +Sweeping across the vast, bright lands of peace,<br /> +And leaving staring Ruin in its way?<br /> +Oh! Rome, thou much-wronged child of Romulus,<br /> +That I might break the seals from off thine eyes,<br /> +And place a flaming sword within thy hand,<br /> +A watchword in thine ear—"Endure for her<br /> +Who is thy rightful mistress, Liberty."<br /> +A battle-cry upon thy glowing lips,<br /> +"Onward!" A prayer within thy mighty heart,<br /> +And prophecy to stir thy godlike soul<br /> +To action. But the times are ripening! [<i>A pause.</i><br /> +Could I relate thy wrongs, I would not cease,<br /> +Nor spare myself, but speaking, sink to earth,<br /> +Worn with the task. Yet who can number them<br /> +That are as numberless as Heaven's stars?<br /> +I say, as I have said to you before,<br /> +We Romans will again secede, again<br /> +March, in a body, to the Sacred Mount,<br /> +And threaten as of old another Rome,<br /> +A nobler Rome, a Rome unbound and free,<br /> +To found thereon, or else a revolution,<br /> +Bloody and merciless and full of horrors,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span><br /> +Shall ravage Rome, but we be satisfied.<br /> +The fire and the sword hath ready tongues;<br /> +They fawn not to the great, nor spare the high,<br /> +They lick and bite nor fail in eloquence.<br /> +So, to the fire and the sword must we<br /> +Resort; for city, home, and cherished ones<br /> +Demand that guilty blood, as a libation,<br /> +Be poured in answer to the blood of Rome,<br /> +Which crieth to her children from the ground!<span style="margin-left: 5em;">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">ACT II.</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene I—the House of Appius.</span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>The curtain, rising, discovers a bondmaid in the center of a +spacious court, filling her pitcher at the fountain. It is midday, +and the light streams down from above, flooding the entire space +with radiance. The woman sings in an undertone, as she turns to +water the roses twined around the columns in the background. Enter +Marcus Claudius. He approaches the maiden, leisurely.</i> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Marc.</i> Ah! pretty one! Fortune has favored me!<br /> +I enter in due time to proffer aid.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Slave.</i> Nay, shame on thee, a man free-born, to thus<br /> +Address a bondmaid, when there is no need.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> Thy humble mien is fitting, girl, but I<br /> +Am modest, and, thus far, will graciously<br /> +Demean myself.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Slave.</i> <span style="margin-left: 5em;">Demean thyself, indeed!</span><br /> +I only mocked thee, fool; thy proffered aid<br /> +I scorn. Low-born plebeian, who art thou,<br /> +To set thyself above a child of kings?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>angrily</i>). Ha! Have a care! Take heed! Thy saucy tongue<br /> +Eludes thee, mischief hungry. Fairest slave,<br /> +But for that very fairness which is thine,<br /> +I'd have thee lashed by him who favors me!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Slave</i> (<i>wheeling about in scorn</i>). Who shelters, who supports, who uses thee,<br /> +And for his own vile ends! Lends thee his brains,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span><br /> +His power and knowledge for thy petty, sly<br /> +Returns. He, fierce and false; thou, mean and small;<br /> +He, merciless; thou, only Marcus' friend—And<br /> +both unscrupulous as Mercury.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>furiously</i>). Thou art too scathing in thy judgment, damsel!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Slave.</i> Nay, I am mild to what thou dost deserve.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> How darest thou, a slave, to judge me so?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Slave.</i> King Tarquin, called Superbus, or the Proud,<br /> +He was mine ancestor. And I, alone<br /> +Left of his line, in bondage languish. <i>Thou</i>,—<br /> +What canst thou boast of? Of the blood of plebs,<br /> +Yet lower e'en than they who gave thee birth;<br /> +Despised of all, for thou art neither slave,<br /> +Nor free; thou hangest slothlike on the skirts<br /> +Of mighty men, that they may represent<br /> +Thy cause—support, succor, and plead for thee,<br /> +In gratitude for thy poor services.<br /> +Avaunt! Fawner and client, touch me not!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She spurns him when he would approach her, and haughtily departs.</i> </p> + +<p><i>Marc.</i> (<i>gazing after her</i>). Adieu, thou helpless scorner, chained despiser,<br /> +Thy tongue hath sought to whip me sore—in vain.<br /> +A client knows not shame nor injured pride.<br /> +Nor is he haughty, for the blood of kings<br /> +Heats not his veins. So Marcus, too, is low,<br /> +Ready to stoop to aught, however base,<br /> +To gain his ends. But triumph over triumphs!<br /> +Marcus will issue forth the conqueror.<br /> +Flushed with his victory, while other men<br /> +Lie low and bite the dust because they clung<br /> +To honor! He, clean void of conscience, sucks<br /> +The sweets of life down to their sweetest dregs. [<i>Pauses.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span><br /> +Ha! who is that? My master hath returned!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Peers through a curtained doorway on the right. As he retreats, +Appius Claudius enters hurriedly. His toga is disordered, his +countenance aflame with wine and passion. He throws himself heavily +upon a couch.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius.</i> Wine, fetch some wine! At once, with no delay!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>aside</i>). And drunk as Bacchus at his wedding-feast!<br /> +(<i>Aloud.</i>) Which kind, my lord?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Falernian! Mark ye, dilute it not!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>aside</i>). I need no prophet's eyes to see his end.<br /> +To Bacchus I assign him with due care. [<i>Exit.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius</i> (<i>in hoarse undertone</i>). I looked but once, and, looking, she was gone,<br /> +Leaving me reeling, drunk with loveliness.<br /> +I have imbibed deeply this day in wine,<br /> +Yet hath it less intoxicating power<br /> +Than hath a tremor of her lashes or<br /> +A flutter of her garments! I am struck,<br /> +And heavily! <span style="margin-left: 7em;"> [<i>He groans and clasps his head with his hands.</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">Virginia! Elements</span><br /> +Are in thy name—tempest and burning flame!<br /> +My soul is tossed as though it were at sea,<br /> +My brain is floating on the vacant air,<br /> +My heart consumed in everlasting fire!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter Marcus, bearing a goblet and an amphora.</i></p> + +<p><i>Marc.</i> Thy rare Falernian.<br/> +<br/> +<i>Appius.</i> <span style="margin-left: 3em;"> Fill me the cup.</span> <span style="margin-left: 5em;"> [<i>Drinks.</i></span><br /> +Sweet solace and indulgence of the gods,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span><br /> +Unequaled nectar, give me satisfaction!<br /> +Better to me this pleasure than the sight<br /> +Of fair Elysium. Such ecstasy<br /> +As is the privilege and portion of<br /> +Souls freed from Hades and its rack and wheel<br /> +And snatched to Heaven, can no sweeter be<br /> +Than is mine ecstasy, when wafted on<br /> +The summer zephyr, comes this breath, divine,<br /> +Of nectar and ambrosia in one.<br /> +Virginia, to myself, to thee, to Love,<br /> +I drink! And now, my Marcus, sit thee down!<br /> +I would confer with thee.<br/> +<br/> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>seats himself</i>). What is thy will?<br/> +<br/> +<i>Appius.</i> Marcus, this morn I made my way in state<br /> +Through Rome—and, in the market-place, beheld<br /> +A sight that hath undone me for this day.<br /> +My heart hath slipped its leash and now is set<br /> +Hard on the trail, not to be turned aside.<br/> +<br/> +<i>Marc.</i> What vision hath the gods vouchsafed thee, then?<br/> +<br/> +<i>Appius.</i>'Twas more than vision, thanks to Vulcan be,<br /> +Who did create that mortal styled a woman,<br /> +At once a snare, at once a perfect boon;<br /> +At once a curse, at once a lasting blessing.<br /> +It was a maid, a lowly, mortal maid,<br /> +A maid of mean plebeian birth as well,<br /> +Yet beautiful as though she had arisen<br /> +From out the golden heart of some fair rose,<br /> +Or drowsy, dreamy, tempting, fresh and fair,<br /> +Had issued, shyly, from the troubled depths<br /> +Of rock-bound spring, a nymph but newly born,<br /> +And shrinking from the glances of the morn.<br /> +Virginia, child of one Virginius,<br /> +Centurion of courage and renown,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span><br /> +She burst upon me like a revelation<br /> +Unto a prophet. She is mine as sure<br /> +As are the stars possessions of the Night.<br /> +She'll have no will but mine, no choice but mine;<br /> +She'll yield her body unto me, until<br /> +I find the chance to win her heart and soul.<br /> +I'll hold her and I'll kiss her heart away;<br /> +I'll chain her soul to mine with links of gold.<br /> +But whether she shall ever love me true<br /> +I little care, so that her lips are mine.<br /> +So that I daily touch her hands and feel<br /> +Her dusky hair blow cloudlike 'gainst my cheek.<br /> +Marcus, thou art the man to work my weal,<br /> +By aiding me in this, mine enterprise.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> What! Shall I play the game and thou receive<br /> +The winnings?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius</i> (<i>haughtily</i>). Ay, assuredly. O, pause,<br /> +And pausing, see thyself in honest light.<br /> +Thou art my client; thou to <i>me</i> dost owe<br /> +Thy safety, standing, possibly thy life.<br /> +I know the law—I <i>made</i>, the law, the while<br /> +Thou canst not read a letter; as a pleb<br /> +Few rights are thine—those few I gave thy class<br /> +At the expense of the patrician favor.<br /> +Break with me, and thou'lt break thy fortunes, ope<br /> +Thy chest of troubles, like the silly maid<br /> +Who brought untold misfortunes on herself<br /> +And on the world. Assist me and thou'lt gain<br /> +My favor, keep my needful, strong protection.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> Enough! I follow thee and will obey.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> E'en to the letter?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">To the letter, lord.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Then hearken. Choose some morning, soon or late,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span><br /> +And hasten to the market-place. The maid<br /> +Receiveth schooling there. When she appears,<br /> +Spring forward boldly, seize her by the arm,<br /> +(And yet be not too rude in thy demeanor);<br /> +When all the multitude around demand<br /> +An explanation, say to them that she<br /> +Was born of a slave-woman in thy house,<br /> +Ere thou a client had become. And add<br /> +That she had been in secret borne away,<br /> +And, by the wife of one Virginius,<br /> +Claimed as a child; her own at birth had died,<br /> +And he, Virginius, kept in ignorance,<br /> +Grossly deceived, believeth it his flesh<br /> +And blood. The tale is wild; no proof hast thou,<br /> +Nor witnesses; and yet it is enough<br /> +Seeing that I control the Romans as<br /> +The Fates control the lives of mortal men,<br /> +And need the barest shadow of excuse<br /> +To work my will—I, who am autocrat!<br /> +Assume a righteous air, if that doth lie<br /> +Within the limits of thy doubtful, rare<br /> +Accomplishments. When they protest, then say<br /> +"To Appius for justice I will go,"<br /> +And leave the rest to me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marcus.</i> <span style="margin-left: 6em;"> Ay, leave to thee</span><br /> +The cowing of the Roman mob, for that<br /> +Lieth within the limits of <i>thy</i> rare,<br /> +Doubtful accomplishments. So let it be.<br /> +I'll serve thee well—will my returns be worthy<br /> +The peril of my venture?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> <span style="margin-left: 7em;"> Also leave</span><br /> +That matter unto me.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene II—Women's Apartments in the House of Virginius.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>Style of ornaments and hangings very simple. Virginia, bending over +her nurse, who is seated in a chair, appears to have just completed +the arrangement of the latter's hair.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Virg.</i> Nay, now, let be! 'Tis most becoming so.<br /> +What! would'st thou call't presumptious to assume<br /> +The style of headdress worn by noble ladies?<br /> +Foolish Camilla! Thou art nobler far<br /> +Than many score fine dames, however high<br /> +They hold their heads or wear their tresses—so!<br /> +Oh, 'tis entrancing! Stay, I have not done.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Camilla</i> (<i>groaning in mock despair</i>). Alack! was ever nurse so harried by<br /> +A maid as silly and as sweet as thou!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> No, never! for I'm sweet because I've kissed<br /> +Thy kind old cheek so oft and have imbibed<br /> +Therefrom the sweetness only found in thee.<br /> +And I am silly—I suppose, because<br /> +The gods have made me so. Now, turn about<br /> +Thy head. How white thy hair of late hath grown!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Camilla.</i> Alack! mine age is on me!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>passionately caressing her</i>). Nay, not so!<br /> +Or if 'tis so, I love each silver thread.<br /> +Kiss me, Camilla—but I must proceed<br /> +With this thy toilet. Now is it complete.<br /> +Oh, Jupiter! it is a work of art!<br /> +Sweet nurse, thou wilt amaze my father when<br /> +He catches sight of thee. <span style="margin-left: 6em;"> [<i>Seizes a mirror.</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">Come, view thyself.</span><br /> +'Tis not ill-done, for I have marked the style.<br /> +Shake not thy head at me, I prithee now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span><br /> +I only sport with thee. Look not so grave.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Camilla.</i> Sweet one, because thou art so gay to-day,<br /> +I fear to-morrow thou wilt be in tears.<br /> +Excess of spirits bears excess of grief.<br /> +Thou'rt young and fair as Hero; but to her<br /> +Misfortune came and loss and heavy woe!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Now, thou remindest me of Wisdom's owl—<br /> +Croak not so somberly. Thou who art one<br /> +Whose heart is ever genial with mirth,<br /> +Wrong'st Nature to cast shadows over youth.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Camilla</i> (<i>drawing Virginia to her tenderly</i>). My little love, I would not seem to sigh;<br /> +Ever have I despised a sorry face,<br /> +A gloomy or foreboding disposition.<br /> +Thou hast most aptly said that I to-day<br /> +Belie my character. Forgive! Forget!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>pouting</i>). Forget, thou croaking raven of despair?<br /> +Thou dost expect too much. I may forgive,<br /> +But not forget. What ailest thee to-day?<br /> +Art thou not ill or weary with thy tasks?<br /> +We'll make thy labor lighter, and thy cares<br /> +As to the household now shall rest on me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Camilla.</i> Not so, sweet child. There is no need for that.<br /> +I am not ill nor weary, nay, nor sad,<br /> +But fearful and in dread of hidden woe.<br /> +What may the morrow bring to thee, my babe,<br /> +Or to thy father, or thy lover? What,<br /> +I can not see, but only feel and dread.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Camilla! Something surely ails thee now.<br /> +Oh! I am mystified and overcome<br /> +By thy prophetic words, thy drear address,<br /> +And I would probe thy meaning deeply, lest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span><br /> +A vision should have warned thee of a flood<br /> +Of coming tribulation. Gentle nurse,<br /> +Hast visited of late the oracle?<br /> +Speak! Speak to me! Speak to Virginia! Say!<br /> +Tell me, nor torture me upon the rack<br /> +Of fear and dread prolonged.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Camilla</i> (<i>slowly</i>). <span style="margin-left: 5em;">If it were aught</span><br /> +That I might put to thee or e'en myself<br /> +In syllables, I'd speak. But syllables<br /> +Are clumsy things. Words are inanimate,<br /> +Dull, helpless weapons, powerless unless<br /> +The thoughts are present skillfully to wield<br /> +The blades. Then cut and thrust they mightily,<br /> +Ready to wound, or e'en with menace kill.<br /> +I know not what I fear. I know not why<br /> +Nor wherefore. Has the gift of second-sight<br /> +Been by the gods this day on me bestowed? [<i>A pause.</i><br /> +I seem to see great sorrow brought about<br /> +By shameless wrong; I seem to see a cloud,<br /> +Laden with anguish which may soon descend<br /> +In burning drops on Rome, where'er I turn.<br /> +Who are the victims I can not discover,<br /> +But when I close mine eyes from out the black<br /> +That blinds them, lo! a knife like lightning sent<br /> +By Jove flashes upon me—and is gone!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>sobbing</i>). Alas! My joy is fled and all is gloom.<br /> +Sure 'tis some peril scowling o'er my father.<br /> +Mayhap e'en now he lieth in the camp,<br /> +Struck down by men who envy him his fame!<br /> +Oh! horrid thought! most dread, most cruel thought!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Camilla</i> (<i>arousing herself with effort</i>). Nay, weep not, my Virginia; I regret<br /> +Those vague emotions which are doubtless false<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span><br /> +Deceiving dreams, sent me by Mercury,<br /> +Who oft delights in filling mortal minds<br /> +With gray forebodings, as thou art aware.<br /> +Quick! Kiss me, child, and dry those silly tears.<br /> +Lo! now methinks I hear thy father's step.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>joyously</i>). Father! mine own dear father!<br /> +<br /> +(<i>Voice of Virginius without.</i>) Little one!<br /> +No welcome at the door?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Virginia runs to the curtained doorway, through which her father +enters, and flings her arms in tearful ecstasy around his neck.</i></p> + +<p><i>Virginius.</i> What! tears, dear heart?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> But smiles will clear them soon. I feared for thee—<br /> +Most foolishly, yet ne'ertheless, I feared.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> Most foolishly, indeed, my dark-haired Psyche,<br /> +Thou pure-embodied soul, my spirit's light.<br/> +Look up, dear child, and kiss thy father fond.<br /> +He's wearied and he needs his heart's restorer.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>The two come forward, he in his shining armor, she nestling +birdlike in the shelter of his arm.</i></p> + +<p>My daughter, I have seen Icilius.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Ah! Father!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius</i> (<i>mockingly</i>). "Ah! Father!" Ay, I saw him. Me he held<br /> +Firmly, besieging me with queries, all<br /> +Concerning thee. How had Virginia fared<br /> +While he was absent?—the presumptious boy!<br /> +Couldst thou fare otherwise than well with me?<br /> +And then with eager eyes he questioned as<br /> +To thy remarks, thy thoughts concerning him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span><br /> +Thy attitude to things in general.<br /> +Where did Virginia spend her days? In school?<br /> +Was she by chance affrighted at the state<br /> +Of Rome since he had left her? Like unto<br /> +A feverish flame, he reached on every side,<br /> +Hungry for news of his Virginia.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>dreamily</i>). My Love! My Love! Mine own Icilius!<br /> +Oh! gentle gods, my happiness exceeds<br /> +My worth. But yet, amen! So let it be. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene III—A Garden overgrown with Roses.</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter Virginia and Icilius. Twilight deepening into night.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Icilius.</i> This is an eve of witchery, an hour<br /> +Alluring, swelled with love and weighted down<br /> +With dreams.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> A time when all our best ideals<br /> +Are perfected. Reality is dead,<br /> +Deep-buried in her grave, and Heaven and Earth,<br /> +Swayed by the wand of sweet Imagination,<br /> +Languish beneath the velvet robes of Night.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> And 'tis a night more fair than when Dian<br /> +Cast lustre on the young, unwitting face<br /> +Of that deep-slumbering boy, Endymion.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Oh! happy boy! a goddess kissed thy hair,<br /> +Mused o'er thy brows, and sighed above thy lips.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Thrice happy man, who treasures human love,<br /> +And humbly may accept that precious gift,<br /> +A mortal maiden's heart, nor sigh for more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span><br /> +There is no more, nor anything so fair,<br /> +As such a dear possession. Happy he,<br /> +Who can, though but one instant, close and warm,<br /> +Hold woman's form, or kiss the starry light<br /> +Into her eyes, the blood into her cheeks!<br /> +And such a man, Virginia, am I.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>shyly</i>). Not once in life, dear Love, but many times.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Not once, not twice, not thrice, but many times.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> What might lies in the warmth of kisses given!<br /> +Like wine they strengthen, quicken, stimulate,<br /> +Like flame they warm, like moonlight satisfy.<br /> +Like stars uplift above the common world.<br /> +Dear Love, I am a weak and fearful child<br /> +And need my wine, my flame, my moon and stars,<br /> +To fit me for the years that lie ahead.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Thou lookest pale, in need of stimulant— [<i>Kisses her.</i><br /> +Once more, sweetheart! Nay, wouldst thou draw away?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Not so. Mine ears deceived me, hearing sounds<br /> +Of stealthy listeners.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> <span style="margin-left: 6em;"> Virginia,</span><br /> +Rest here upon this bed of roses. They<br /> +Are "red with anguish for Adonis' death,"<br /> +That mortal love of Venus. Dear, recline,<br /> +And let thy tresses, darker than the night,<br /> +In the breeze fluttering, caress my cheek,<br /> +Breathing thy love for me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> <span style="margin-left: 9em;"> Icilius,</span><br /> +'Twas only yestereve I wandered here.<br /> +The sun was casting forth his fading beams<br /> +In final efforts most supreme; my thoughts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span><br /> +Were full of peace and thee. And in the light<br /> +Shed by the homing sun—the purple, red,<br /> +And gold—I dreamed fair dreams, imagined visions.<br /> +Methought I saw the coming years of bliss,<br /> +Deepened with sorrow, lined with simple care;<br /> +The sorrow of a mortal, and the care<br /> +Of wife and mother. Then, at once, arose<br /> +Longings that I might always worthy be,<br /> +As was Eurydice of Orpheus.<br /> +Never to falter, howsoe'er I feared,<br /> +Turn not, stay not, fail not; a woman in<br /> +My services and steadfast faith, as well<br /> +As my most passionate love. My thoughts are grave;<br /> +Perchance they do accord not with thy mood?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Not so, thou spirit of sweet harmony,<br /> +My life and soul, my one bright guiding star.<br /> +Thy lover is a rude and careless man,<br /> +A Roman tribune, weighted with affairs,<br /> +Stern to my fellows, tender but to thee.<br /> +Yet when I look on thy beloved form<br /> +And perfect face, my sins are swept away,<br /> +As is the unclean wrack, upon the shore,<br /> +Swept by the ocean. Ay! and in its place<br /> +Are left pure pearls and shells and wonders such<br /> +As only dwell where man can never go—<br /> +Thy thoughts, Virginia, pure as virgin snow.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Last night I lay awake amid the dark,<br /> +Hearing the music of the fount without<br /> +My window; sharply, trebly sweet it broke<br /> +The heavy, voiceless gloom of slumbering<br /> +Nature and sleeping men. Awake, I dreamed<br /> +Of all the bliss the gentle gods have placed<br /> +Within my hold. Then, like a swelling sea,<br /> +High in my bosom rose the newborn love.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span><br /> +I thought of how it grew, so shy, so slow,<br /> +At first like faltering breeze that lightly stirs<br /> +And lifts the tiny feather o'er the heart<br /> +Of nesting bird, then gaming courage, grows<br /> +Into a gentle wind until the soul<br /> +Within leaps up, and mighty, strong, and free,<br /> +Soars on celestial wings above the raving sea.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A silence falls, during which a light begins to break in the +eastern sky.</i></p> + +<p><i>Icilius.</i> We have outsighed the day; the rising moon<br /> +Her benediction smiles upon this spot,<br /> +Where breathes and hopes and loves Virginia.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> She signals faintly, from the brightening east,<br /> +To thee, my hero and my love.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> One kiss,<br /> +One kiss in honor of fair Cynthia.<br /> +May blessings come to thee with every ray<br /> +From yonder orb which rises o'er the hills<br /> +Of Rome and lights a glory in thy hair.<br /> +Elusive soul! this moment dost thou seem<br /> +A chaste, pale spirit of the lonely moon,<br /> +A white Diana of nocturnal glades,<br /> +Yet in the magic of the ardent sun<br /> +I've seen thee flame into an Aphrodite,<br /> +A glowing type of passion and desire.<br /> +My love, my full and perfected ideal,<br /> +My Helen and my delicate Ænone.<br /> +My nymph and my incomparable queen<br /> +In one. Come closer to my arms, beloved!<br /> +I would not lose in any sense or thought<br /> +A moment spent with thee, Virginia.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>in his arms</i>). Closer, ay, closer, as the days go by,<br /> +Deeper and deeper, stronger and more strong,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span><br /> +Each in the other till we are not two,<br /> +A man and maid, but one, but one. Oh! say<br /> +How close I am to thee, Icilius?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> As close as vein to leaf, or leaf to stem;<br /> +As close as is the rose-flush in the heart<br /> +Of ocean's shell unto the shell itself;<br /> +Close as the star is to its atmosphere;<br /> +Wedded as day and night, no break, no void<br /> +Between, but only faintest change and lights,<br /> +Born of a higher world, a purer sphere,<br /> +Heaven-conceived, begotten of the sky.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>The light visibly brightens, shining down upon the two. After a +silence they stir and slowly walk apart, watching the sky. Icilius +presently rejoins Virginia.</i></p> + +<p>Love, thou art weary. Come within and sleep.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Nay, I could never weary in thy sight.<br /> +Have I not called thy kisses and embrace<br /> +My wine, my flame, my moonlight and my stars?<br /> +I am not weary. But I'll come within—<br /> +The morrow brings a fresh Elysium.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Oh! but the night is fair; behold each rose,<br /> +How tenderly preserves and cups its dew,<br /> +Barely awakened, lifting up its head<br /> +And smiling at the moon. One kiss before<br /> +We go within. And now, farewell, thou rose;<br /> +Farewell, thou garden of nocturnal dreams<br /> +And noon-day musings. Come, Virginia,<br /> +Let us within.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene IV—Home of Cornelia.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>Apartment spacious and luxurious, with hangings of various kinds. +Cornelia, who is reclining in an arm chair, occupies the center of +the room; a female stands behind her in the act of arranging her +hair. On the left is a boy in rich patrician dress, seated beside an +oblong bath, engaged in sailing a tiny fleet of vessels on the +surface of the water. On the right are a number of attendants, +conversing in undertones.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Cor.</i> Ah, gods! I am most sad and most aweary<br /> +Of this routine of state, unrestful splendor.<br /> +My lovers love not me but my possessions,<br /> +My friends are envious of my delights.<br /> +Wretched aristocrats! Unhappy we<br /> +Who call ourselves patricians, and who swear<br /> +Our race is blessed of the most blessed gods!<br /> +Say rather cursed, and with a heavy curse!<br /> +How can I give my heart to those who are<br /> +By <i>noble</i> blood worthy and eligible,<br /> +After the Roman laws, to sue for it?<br /> +Eros with them is but an empty name;<br /> +Passion and lust and horrible ambition<br /> +Form the emotions of these "blessed" ones.<br /> +And I, unhappy, love with pure desire<br /> +Sicinius, a soldier and a pleb!<br /> +Yet hath the Ten forbidden intermarriage,<br /> +Just when those bars of difference were about<br /> +To fall away and Heaven ope for me.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>To the attendant.</i></p> + +<p>Sufficient, Julia.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Julia.</i> Nay, a few light touches<br /> +And thou wilt shine more fair, my lovely mistress,<br /> +Than heavenly Venus in her myrtle bower.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>smilingly</i>). But I am dark as night; she as the day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span><br /> +Thou foolish maid.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Julia.</i> Believe me, thou in thy<br /> +Rich, languid charm would cast enchantment o'er<br /> +Adonis, as would keep him from the chase<br /> +Where Venus pled in vain.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Tut, flatterer!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Julia</i> (<i>slyly</i>). Methinks I'd make a model lover then<br /> +If I do flatter. Is't not so, sweet lady?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>bitterly</i>). Lovers are mockeries in this blackened age.<br /> +A maid may wed the low-souled fool so long<br /> +As he's high-born! The man of noble mind<br /> +Is numbered, if a common, 'mongst the dead.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Julia</i> (<i>idly</i>). Methinks Sicinius comes here anon?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>in displeasure</i>). What! Insolent! Who bade thee speak, I pray?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Julia</i> (<i>softly</i>). Lady, mine eyes are clear and quick to see,<br /> +And thy heart's sentinels are slumbering.<br /> +I mean no insolence, by all the gods!<br /> +My motive only love and sympathy.<br /> +I, too, am a plebeian, and rejoice<br /> +To see thy gracious, noble condescension.<br /> +Yet in my joy I well could weep with pain,<br /> +Seeing the darkness of thy doubtful future.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Darkness! It is a void as empty as<br /> +My heart this day is full. Begone, I pray,<br /> +Each one of you; nay, thou, my Julia, stay<br /> +And bid the bards perform a soothing lay.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Exeunt maids. Sounds of a harp without in soft accompaniment.</i> </p> + +<p><i>Cor.</i> Tiberius, come hither unto me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>The boy approaches her.</i></p> + +<p>Now kiss me, child, and talk a space with me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> What melancholy broods upon thy brow,<br /> +Curves thy dear lips, and glooms within thine eyes?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Brother, thou art too young to comprehend.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> Mayhap, for I am only twelve years old;<br /> +Yet I'm no dullard, sister, and I weep<br /> +Because I see thee sad. Methinks Sicinius<br /> +Would weep for thee as well.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>starting in dismay</i>). Ye gods of love!<br /> +Does all Italia observe my heart,<br /> +Which I had deemed secure within my breast?<br /> +Or possibly (although the gods forbid!)<br /> +My maidens have been gossiping to thee?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> (<i>disdainfully</i>). No, never; gossip reacheth not mine ears.<br /> +But oft I hear thee sigh and then, within<br /> +The selfsame breath, breathe forth a name I know;<br /> +A name all Romans know—Sicinius.<br /> +Ay, and I oft have heard thee sob, although<br /> +I fain had heard it not, since thou desirest<br /> +Thy grief held secret. Sister mine, how canst<br /> +Thou hope to wed a soldier and a pleb?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Alas! Alas! Mine own Tiberius!<br /> +No hope have I, and yet I love my strength<br /> +Away—my heart and soul are all aflame<br /> +With a wild conflagration. Boy, thou seemest<br /> +Inclined to comprehend my fierce emotions,<br /> +Bitter despair and strange besieging hope,<br /> +That scarce is conscious hope, but mocked and crushed<br /> +By the stern laws of Rome and tyranny<br /> +Of the false Ten, since ever it was born.<br /> +Thy bright brown eyes are luminous with soul;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span><br /> +Wise, gentle brother, dost thou weep for me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> (<i>sobbing passionately</i>). A curse upon those false and dreadful Ten!<br /> +Cornelia, would that I might succor thee!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Most dear, my brother, weep no more for me;<br /> +The gods, who love true lovers, do despise<br /> +Tyrants and murderers, and sure will aid<br /> +Our cause if we be patient to the end.<br /> +Time is a greybeard, and he will not haste<br /> +At any whim, and Fate, a bigot stern,<br /> +Who acts according to his quick desire;<br /> +He preys on Innocence as well as Guilt,<br /> +And none can change the fashion of his ways. [<i>A pause.</i><br /> +Now, tell me, wast thou playing mariner,<br /> +But now, and was yon bath a mighty sea?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> (<i>brightly</i>). I was Æneas, our great forefather,<br /> +And I was sailing from our ancient Troy.<br /> +Oft Juno dashed our ships against the rocks<br /> +In spite, because the Trojans she abhorred;<br /> +Yet, by a miracle, lo! I was saved.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> And didst thou then encounter and escape<br /> +Scylla's dread arms, Charybdis' frightful jaws?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> Ay, and therefrom lost I three goodly men—<br /> +Two oarsmen and my helmsman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> <span style="margin-left: 8em;"> Cruel fate!</span><br /> +Perchance thou hast survived these perils, so<br /> +Thou mayst give comfort to thy troubled sister.<br /> +Methinks—but what familiar sound is that?<br /> +Surely his voice dismissing his attendant—<br /> +And now a knocking on the outer door!<br /> +The porter cometh nigh. Tiberius,<br /> +'Tis he! I dreamed not he could come this day!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> Then I'll begone, sister; give me a kiss;<br /> +I'll seek thee later and relate my voyage. [<i>Exit.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Ah! gods! I feel as fluttered as a maid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span><br /> +Of the plebeians might. Thus do I share<br /> +The simple nature of his simple class,<br /> +Through my deep love for him. My haughty mien,<br /> +Patrician dignity, desert me when<br /> +Mine own beloved cometh unto me.<br /> +<br /> +(<i>Voice of porter without.</i>) Most gracious mistress, I await thy pleasure,<br /> +To usher in a visitor to thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>aside</i>). I must not seem too eager, comprehensive,<br /> +Lest e'en my faithful porter, noting it,<br /> +Let slip without my doors some foolish scandal.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>To porter.</i></p> + +<p>Who is the visitor?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Porter.</i> Sicinius.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Admit Sicinius into my presence.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter Sicinius and porter.</i></p> + +<p>(<i>Aside.</i>) Dear Heaven! My Love! (<i>Aloud.</i>) Thou Gaius, to thy post<br /> +Begone! And Julia, do thou too withdraw.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Exeunt the two. A silence falls. Cornelia remains seated, a still +form, most beautiful, endeavoring to calm her loving passion, one +hand upon her bosom and her eyes fixed on the face of Sicinius, who +stands motionless with admiration.</i></p> + +<p>Sicinius!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> What can I say, oh, God!<br /> +Thou art too fair, thou art too wondrous fair<br /> +For me to break the spell. Awake! Awake!<br /> +Dreamer I am not wont to be, save when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span><br /> +Thy beauty casts a web of visions o'er me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> My beauty paleth in the greater light,<br /> +O my Sicinius, of thy manhood's worth.<br /> +Awake, indeed, and greet me. I can face<br /> +Thy gaze no longer; art thou turned to stone?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> (<i>advancing, with his arm outstretched in a sudden warmth of passion</i>). I turn to stone only upon the day<br /> +When I can neither claim nor clasp my love.<br /> +Till then mine arms continue flesh and blood,<br /> +My lips as warm as thine; thou radiant Soul! (<i>Embracing her.</i>)<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Oh! stay a space! Is every curtain drawn?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> I do not know, for thou hast dazzled quite<br /> +My goodly eyesight, and I only see<br /> +Cornelia here and there and everywhere.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Alas! I fear so greatly for our love;<br /> +Pray Heaven thou lose me not entirely!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> Nay, rest thee, rest thee, tremble not, beloved.<br /> +The life of Appius will soon be spanned,<br /> +And a great wave of revolution shake<br /> +Rome's center; soon I drop a mighty pebble<br /> +On her dark surface, and the rings therefrom<br /> +Into a rush of water thence shall widen.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>partly rising from her chair, her eyes alight</i>).<br /> +The Fates be thanked that now the foul stagnation<br /> +Of Rome, enslaved, is stirring into life;<br /> +And <i>thine</i> the hand! Thou'rt worthy of the cause,<br /> +Thou patriot and model of a man!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> Oh! but I love my city and my race!<br /> +Thank God that my stern duty lieth on<br /> +The selfsame path as love for thee, my sweet.<br /> +My conscience and my happiness alike<br /> +Demand that I should aim to liberate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span><br /> +Rome and the Romans from the yoke of men<br /> +Who are defiling and defiled—the Ten! [<i>Starts suddenly.</i><br/> +I came, that I might steal one glimpse of thee.<br /> +The sun is high—I may not tarry more.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> So soon departing? Whither wouldst thou go?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Sic.</i> Straight to the Forum—then unto the camp.<br /> +The movements of our foemen, the Sabines,<br /> +Are grave. Methinks I'll soon be called upon<br /> +To enter into active services.<br /> +Farewell, Cornelia! kiss me once again!<br /> +Sweet mistress, noble lady! fare thee well! [<i>Exit swiftly.</i><br/> +<br/> +<i>Cor.</i> Gone! Gone! So swiftly, like an eager shaft<br /> +From Roman bow. Vanished, my gallant love!<br /> +Where shall I see him when he doth return<br /> +To me? May Mars attend and favor him,<br /> +And Victory with laurel wreath adorn<br /> +His earnest brows. Sicinius, farewell!</p> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">ACT III.</span></p> +<p> </p> + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene I—A Cloudy Morning in the Forum.</span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>Busy passing to and fro of citizens. Enter Cornelia and Tiberius, +attended by two slaves. The former appears embarrassed, fluttered, +and distressed, the latter troubled and concerned.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Cor.</i> Gods! How the people stare upon me, brother!<br /> +Alas! They reek not of a woman's heart,<br /> +But judge me bold and courting their attention,<br /> +I who am hungry for one gaze alone,<br /> +Yet can not find. So many days have passed,<br /> +No tidings from my love hath reached mine ears,<br /> +And rumors that he's dead hath driven me<br /> +Close unto madness. All my slaves have sought,<br /> +But failed to find him. I am desperate!<br /> +Surely the ears of one who loves will hear,<br /> +Surely the eyes of one who loves will see,<br /> +And learn his fate, whether for good or ill.<br /> +He will forgive me for exposing her<br /> +He loveth to the gaze of multitudes!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> Ay, but most likely he was called to serve<br /> +Rome in the latest skirmish with her foes.<br /> +Thy fear it is unfounded.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Nay, my child,<br /> +The skirmishing they say is discontinued,<br /> +And all who fought therein returned unto<br /> +The camp, save only those who fell beneath<br /> +The Sabine spears. My Love hath not been seen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span><br /> +And I can rest no longer in my house.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>While they speak, the already clouded sky darkens so rapidly that +all start and look out across the populated hills. A distant peal of +thunder is heard, followed by a second, greater in volume. All press +together, then a cry arises:</i> "Way, make way! The sibyl of the vale +would speak! She is inspired!" <i>The dense crowd parts and all swing +backward in confusion. A flash of lightning breaks the heavy gloom, +followed by a muttering of thunder. A few large raindrops fall. The +sibyl enters through the multitude, a weird, mad form, with tossing +hair and wild, disheveled garments.</i></p> + +<p><i>Sibyl.</i> Wail, walls of Rome, and weep, ye tender vales<br /> +Of sweet Italia!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A murmur and a swaying. Voices contend for silence.</i></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 7em;">Oh! day of dole!</span><br /> +Oh, day of perfect woe! Oh, Furies' day<br /> +Of fever and of tears! Oh, black despair!<br /> +The night of tyranny hath settled o'er<br /> +Our city, roof-like shuts her from the air<br /> +Of Heaven! And the hollow, brazen dome<br /> +Of despotism closes o'er our heads;<br /> +Black tyranny and red-hot despotism!<br /> +Had I hands long enough and nails as sharp<br /> +As Hate, I'd tear in shreds the infernal web!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Another peal of thunder resounds. She points toward the heavy +clouds.</i></p> + +<p>My tongue is laden with the vast commands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span><br /> +Of Jove, to-day. But Rome is deaf and mad.<br /> +The gods cry out upon this tyranny,<br /> +The heavens in thunder clap their wrathful hands!<br /> +Yet Rome, the Rome of Romulus, the Rome<br /> +Of Numa and the martial kings of old,<br /> +Is deaf—is deaf and mad! Oh! woe, woe, woe!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>With a prolonged, shrill wail of despair she vanishes amid the +crowd. Great agitation now displayed by the majority of citizens. +Enter a runner.</i></p> + +<p><i>Run.</i> Ye men of Rome, I bear ill news with me!<br /> +<br /> +<i>The Cit.</i> What is't? Out with it! Dally not at all!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Run.</i> Sicinius, our leader, he is dead!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A murmur of horror.</i></p> + +<p><i>Cor.</i> (<i>starting wildly forward</i>). Sicinius? Sicinius, the pleb?<br /> +Oh! gods of Heaven! Ye have struck me hard!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She sinks insensible upon the ground. Her slaves bend over her. +Tiberius kneels beside her, sobbing bitterly.</i></p> + +<p><i>The Cit.</i> How died he?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Run.</i> It is said by some that he,<br /> +Being sent by the Decemvirs to select<br /> +A spot most suitable whereon to camp,<br /> +Fell into ambuscade and died along<br /> +With several comrades.<br /> +<br /> +<i>The Cit.</i> Slaughtered by the foe?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Run.</i> So it hath been reported by the few<br /> +That did escape. [<i>He pauses, then proceeds.</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">But hearken, citizens!</span><br /> +The bodies lay unspoil'd, with faces turned<br /> +All toward one—that one, Sicinius.<br /> +The Ten hath hated and hath feared this man!<br /> +No more. Construe the meaning as ye list;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span><br /> +I must away.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Exit runner. The four citizens, Horatius, Galba, Marius, and +Hortensius, approach the prone form of Cornelia.</i></p> + +<p><i>Hor.</i> A lady of patrician birth! Good slaves,<br /> +Can we assist thy mistress, who appears<br /> +In such a piteous and hapless plight?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Slave</i> (<i>sobbing</i>). Alas! Alas! I know not what to do,<br /> +Or what hath come upon her suddenly.<br /> +Ah! see, she stirs! Lady, awake! awake!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>opening her eyes, but making no attempt to raise herself</i>). Those words he used when last he came to me.<br /> +Oh! bitter, bitter fate! Say not awake,<br /> +But sleep eternally! Sicinius!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Galba.</i> It doth appear affection did exist<br /> +Betwixt Rome's great plebeian and this lady.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> Ay, sir, she loved him e'en as he loved her;<br /> +But naught was said because they feared the Ten.<br /> +Nay, I was wrong! Sicinius and fear<br /> +Are alien the one unto the other!<br /> +But rather did he bide his time until<br /> +These men should be o'erthrown and Rome be freed<br /> +From their most hateful laws and government.<br /> +<br /> +<i>One of the multitude.</i> Hark to the boy! He is a demagogue.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Another.</i> Nay, he is innocent, and therefore bold.<br /> +Parroting sentiments that are not his own.<br /> +<br /> +<i>A third.</i> And yet he speaks the truth, the naked truth.<br /> +See how this woman hath been sadly wronged,<br /> +And how her life is marred by these Decemvirs;<br /> +For surely they gave orders for the death<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span><br /> +Of him who was a leader and a man!<br /> +Have they not feared him for these many months,<br /> +Because his tongue is sharper than a sword?<br /> +And these two, a patrician and a pleb,<br /> +Each representing classes now united<br /> +By common misery, are foully hurt,<br /> +And scarred by fierce injustice from the Ten.<br /> +Vengeance! The time is ripe for vengeance. Rome<br /> +Can bear no more. Sicinius is dead!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Murmurs of</i> "Sicinius is dead!"</p> + +<p><i>Cor.</i> (<i>moaning as in pain</i>). Sicinius is dead!<br /> +Sicinius!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter Virginia, followed by Camilla. She espies Cornelia and at +once approaches.</i></p> + +<p><i>Virg.</i> Kind citizens, let me to her, I pray.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She kneels beside the fainting girl.</i></p> + +<p>Oh, tearful sight! Ah me, most sorrowful!<br /> +Thou art Cornelia, whom I oft have seen,<br /> +Of whom I've heard from thy dear lover's lips.<br /> +I knew him well; he waits for thee beyond<br /> +The sea, in the broad Islands of the Blest,<br /> +Where heroes find a haven and a rest.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She smooths the other's brow in silence for a space, and then +proceeds.</i></p> + +<p>Look up, poor broken spirit, and discern<br /> +A friendly face and weep upon my heart.<br /> +She will not rouse herself! Good people, pray,<br /> +Press not upon her. Bring a car, O slave,<br /> +The lady is unable to return<br /> +On foot. The carriage waits without the place?<br /> +'Tis well. And now to bring her to herself!<br /> +Cornelia, waken! But look not so cold.<br /> +Thou gentle heart! relieve the strain of grief<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span><br /> +With tears of passion. Then come home, come home.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>rousing herself</i>). Tell me, who art thou, O thou noble maid?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> I am Virginia, whom thou knowest not.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Canst thou not take me from this staring crowd?<br /> +Their eyes are knives; the very air is poison.<br /> +Oh, God! He is not dead?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> (<i>assisting her to her feet</i>). Come home, sweet sister.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tib.</i> (<i>sobbing</i>). Cornelia, my Cornelia! Speak to me!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Art thou Tiberius, thou tender child?<br /> +Weep not; assist me with thy stricken sister.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>As the three, the slaves in close attendance, are about to make +their way through the multitude, there comes a sudden disturbance, +and Marcus Claudius springs forward.</i></p> + +<p><i>Marc.</i> Ho! stay a bit, my servant; stay with me!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He seizes rude hold on Virginia, who shrieks aloud in terror. At +once the four citizens make their way to her side.</i></p> + +<p>Now by the gods! I only take mine own.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virg.</i> Aid me, in Heaven's name, ye citizens!<br /> +Deliver me from shame! Icilius!<br /> +Icilius, my love, where art thou now?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>in undertone</i>). Thy struggles, maid, succeed in binding thee<br /> +But closer in mine arms. Hast thou a lover?<br /> +He hears thee not, and thou art my possession.<br /> +Now, still thyself. Gods! Proserpine, thou art<br /> +As strong as is Cybele's lioness!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marius.</i> Foul slave! Loose thou the maid! Oh, insolence!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hor.</i> Beast! I will kill thee, maim thee like a dog,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span><br /> +Unless thou takest thy hand from off the maid!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>panting</i>). Reserve thy threats and play thou warily,<br /> +Justice upholds me!<br /> +<br /> +<i>The multitude.</i> Justice!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>coolly</i>). Shout less loud,<br /> +Look not aghast, my masters. I will take<br /> +This girl by law—she is my rightful slave.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hor.</i> 'Tis false!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> Soft, friend, be calm, hold off, I pray!<br /> +Hark! she was born a slave within my house,<br /> +And thence was stolen and declared to be<br /> +The offspring of the man Virginius,<br /> +Whose wife had borne an infant at the time,<br /> +Which on the moment of its birth had died.<br /> +Virginius himself was then away,<br /> +And on returning deemed it was his babe,<br /> +And deems so to this day. I waited long,<br /> +And now have found in this Virginia<br /> +My property. A woman hath confessed;<br /> +The one who stole her thence and fled away,<br /> +Returning but to die within the house<br /> +Of Appius, my patron, whom I serve.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cam.</i> Oh, liar! I first clasped her in mine arms<br /> +When she was born! Remove thine impious hand!<br /> +In childhood and in girlhood I have watched<br /> +Her growth, and guarded her from shame or harm.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Multitude.</i> Ay, ay! She speaks the truth! Loose thou the maid!<br /> +She is no slave. We know Virginius.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> Now, I'll have justice, though it cost me e'en<br /> +My life, itself.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hor.</i> Which it is like to, dog!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He strikes him boldly with, clenched fist. The client staggers, +losing his hold on Virginia, who takes refuge with the three +citizens.</i></p> + +<p><i>Hortensius.</i> Where is thine evidence?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Galba</i> (<i>ironically</i>). Ay, e'en thy word<br /> +Weighs naught with us free citizens of Rome.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>hissing between his teeth</i>). My word <i>shall</i> weigh with you, ye coward curs!<br /> +For lo! My word is—Appius! Ah—so!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>The mob shrinks backward at the name, and Marcus laughs in scorn.</i></p> + +<p>(<i>Vindictively.</i>) I see it hath a little weight with you?<br /> +"Free citizens of Rome!" Ye make me laugh.<br /> +Oh! ay, I know ye'd mob me joyously,<br /> +Stone me, or cast me from Tarpeian Rock,<br /> +Save that—save that—ye <i>dare</i> not! Appius<br /> +Would leave not one small particle of this,<br /> +His client, unavenged. Back, all of you!<br /> +The maid is mine! Ye can not say me nay.<br /> +<br /> +<i>One of the multitude.</i> But if we threaten thee, or bear her off,<br /> +And save her from thy most illegal movements,<br /> +What then?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> What then? To Appius Claudius<br /> +For justice I would go!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Murmurs of fear are heard on every side.</i></p> + +<p>(<i>With mocking smile</i>). Lo! now he comes<br /> +Within the Forum.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Even as he speaks the Chief of the Decemvirs enters. He is seated +in a chair which is borne by four slaves.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius</i> (<i>frowning sombrely</i>). What bodes this tumult? Who, yon lovely girl?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Multitude.</i> Justice! We would see justice, Appius!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Silence! and let me hear one voice alone.<br /> +Marcus, my client, speak, for I would have<br /> +An explanation of this strange disturbance.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> Most noble Appius, I owned this girl,<br /> +Born in my house full sixteen years ago,<br /> +Of my slave-woman.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cam.</i> (<i>boldly</i>). Liar! All men know<br /> +Her mother was free-born and wedded to<br /> +Virginius, centurion and pleb.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Gag yonder hag, or drag her hence—I'll have<br /> +No withered woman's voice of spite exclaiming.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cam.</i> Thy lictor shall not lay his hands upon me!<br /> +My place is here. My voice shall speak for her,<br /> +Nor fear thee, king of tyrants and despoilers!<br /> +Long have I inwardly foreseen this day,<br /> +And prayed the gods to change the hand of Fate.<br /> +It seems my prayers are valueless. But still,<br /> +Still there does yet remain to me—my <i>curse</i>!<br /> +And all shall feel its potency who dare<br /> +To lay a finger on Virginia.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She faces Marcus Claudius with her arm extended and her manner +menacing.</i></p> + +<p>Thou, fool of fools, who ventured to pollute<br /> +The purest virgin breathing in this land,<br /> +Because thou placed thy hand upon her flesh,<br /> +Which is as perfect as her perfect soul,<br /> +I curse thee—ay, and with a heavy curse,<br /> +For that which thou hast done! Thy misery<br /> +Shall soon exceed even thy trespasses,<br /> +Which in themselves are countless as the stars.<br /> +Be cursed, and live accursed and die accursed!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span><br /> +And be my witnesses, O, all ye gods!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>She turns toward Appius—her attitude becomes calm, and majestic.</i></p> + +<p>And as for thee—I fear thee not. My curse<br /> +Shall rest on thee according to thine actions.<br /> +This much I have to say—thy tyranny<br /> +And rule of blood is waning to its close.<br /> +Beware, nor haste thy doom before its time.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>trembling</i>). Seize on her, some of you, for she is mad.<br /> +<br /> +<i>One of the multitude.</i> Nay, she is gifted with strange prophecy.<br /> +She voices Jove.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A tumult now arises in the background. Icilius springs forward +with a cry.</i></p> + +<p><i>Icilius.</i> Virginia! Turn to me!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He faces Marcus Claudius, and with one blow strikes him down, then +clasps Virginia in his arms.</i></p> + +<p><i>Virginia</i> (<i>sobbing wildly</i>). And hast thou come at last?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius</i> (<i>tenderly to her</i>). Courage, dear heart!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>To Appius.</i></p> + +<p>Now, as a free-born Roman, I demand<br /> +An explanation and a satisfaction!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>To Marcus, who essays to speak.</i></p> + +<p>Silence, thou hound, ere I forget myself<br /> +And murder thee! Thine answer, Appius?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Lictor, part thou the twain.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Thou canst not, lictor!<br /> +In common manhood and as her betrothed,<br /> +Thus do I hold to her against the world.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Then, lictor, strike!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> Now, intervene, ye gods!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span><br /> +Icilius, my love! Oh! men of Rome,<br /> +Have ye indeed forgot Lucretia?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Swaying of the multitude. Appius Claudius rises in his car.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius.</i> Be prudent, ye who do desire to see<br /> +Full justice. We must hark to every plea,<br /> +And will to-morrow judge the case. Till then,<br /> +Thou, Marcus, guard the maiden, since the man<br /> +Virginius is absent from the town.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A hissing protest from the multitude and a cry from Virginia +follows this announcement. Icilius faces the Chief Decemvir with +blazing eyes, and draws Virginia closer.</i></p> + +<p><i>Icilius.</i> Over my body only shall yon hound<br /> +Of Hell seize on her. I am yet a man<br /> +With strength to shield or life to sacrifice<br /> +For that which is mine own. Sleep 'neath his roof?<br /> +I'd sooner see her cold upon her bier,<br /> +Or bound upon the wheel of Ixion,<br /> +Enduring tortures of the damned themselves!<br /> +With him? I'd rather cast her to a wolf,<br /> +Who, merciful, would tear her into shreds<br /> +And leave her pure, or o'er Tarpeia's Rock,<br /> +And with mine eyes behold her perfect form<br /> +Shattered upon the kindly stones below,<br /> +Ere Marcus Claudius lay hands on her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marius.</i> Ay, he is right; the maiden yet is free.<br /> +The charge hath not been proven, Appius!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> So be it. We will acquiesce thus far,<br /> +But lictors must be stationed as a guard<br /> +About the house wherein she spends the night,<br /> +Lest she escape and law be unfulfilled.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>coming forward</i>). I will go thither and attend this night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span><br /> +Upon her. Thou, Tiberius, return<br /> +Home with the slaves. To-morrow meet me here.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Slave.</i> Lady, thy lips are white and thou art ill.<br /> +See, thou dost tremble.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Woman, what of that?<br /> +How canst thou weigh my pallor with her pain—<br /> +The anguish in her eyes? What though I shake<br /> +As with an ague? She herself is turned<br /> +To stone with horror deeper than mine own.<br /> +A living sorrow doth exceed a dead;<br /> +Death to dishonor seemeth merciful.<br /> +<i>Her</i> blow is heavy with the weight of dread,<br /> +<i>Mine</i> light with hope. Did she not succor me?<br /> +How can I fail her in her time of need?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Lictors, take into custody yon man.<br /> +Lest he do mischief.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> By the almighty gods!<br /> +Unhand me! I will kill thee, as a man<br /> +Would kill a beast. Ah! foulest trick to seize<br /> +Upon me from the rear. Oh, God! Oh, God!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He sinks helpless upon the stones at Virginia's feet, two lictors +binding him firmly with cords. The storm now breaks, shrieking in +maddest fury, the lightning playing over the hills of Rome.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene II—A Chamber in the Home of Virginius.</span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>Midnight and darkness, save where the moonlight shimmers through +the columns on the left. Virginia is discovered kneeling in the sea +of radiance as though in prayer. A silence follows the rise of the +curtain; then, low at first, but louder, clearer, gradually +increasing in volume, a hymn breaks from her lips, she kneeling +still.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hymn to Diana.</span></p> + +<p>O, thou virgin-goddess fair,<br /> +Look upon me in my sorrow;<br /> +Hear, oh, hear mine earnest prayer!<br /> +Guard me from the fatal morrow!<br /> +Purity is in thy breast<br /> +With thy silver moonbeams drest.<br /> +<br /> +Still my cheek is hot with shame,<br /> +And my heart in anguish crying;<br /> +Let me keep my spotless name,<br /> +Waking, sleeping, living, dying!<br /> +Chaste Dian, thy stainless glory<br /> +Still resounds in song and story.<br /> +<br /> +Mount thy ear within the blue,<br /> +Waft a whisper to me only!<br /> +Thou a heart hast, strong and true,<br /> +Think upon the maiden lonely.<br /> +Without thee it now would seem<br /> +Love were nothing but a dream.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Cornelia suddenly appears from out the gloom behind and puts her +arms about Virginia's neck.</i></p> + +<p><i>Cor.</i> Love but a dream? Ah, no! The gods forfend!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> Ah! Thou! [<i>Turns and embraces her.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> No other than this broken heart;<br /> +Yet is my soul untouched by human woe,<br /> +As thine shall be untouched by human sin.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> I see the face, with passion fiery,<br /> +The full voluptuous lips and greedy eyes,<br /> +I see and shudder.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Marcus Claudius?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> Nay, but the other.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> I am mystified.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> None saw as I saw! He alone I fear,<br /> +Who on the morrow will decide, dear God!—<br /> +For Marcus—yet not Marcus—but himself;<br /> +Allot <i>me</i> as his own. (<i>Wildly.</i>) I saw his look,<br /> +And felt his power! Marcus is the paw<br /> +Wherewith great Appius will seize his prey.<br /> +(<i>Laughs.</i>) Virginia, his prey! He leered on me,<br /> +And in the whitening of his clenchéd hand<br /> +I marked the clash and clangor of his soul.<br /> +Dear gods! The feet of Night are leaden shod,<br /> +And yet the precious moments speed too fast.<br /> +Oh, Death! had I the courage that thou dost<br /> +Demand, I'd summon thee. Methinks I hear<br /> +E'en now the distant rustle of thy wings.<br /> +And yet—thou tarriest—thou tarriest.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Would Death might choose me out as willing prey!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> Dear one, thy voice is weary like the world,<br /> +Which is so old and heavy with its years;<br /> +And yet thine eyes are bright, undimmed by tears.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Bright with the pain that kills by slow degrees.<br /> +Ah! for Apollo's pestilential dart,<br /> +Or but to see the shears of Atropos<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span><br /> +Flash in Diana's beams.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia</i> (<i>softly</i>). We loved her light,<br /> +Thou—thou and I, when love was all in life,<br /> +And those, our own, the twain, Icilius<br /> +And brave Sicinius—"Ah, God! Ah, God!"<br /> +Thus cried he, my beloved, as he sank<br /> +Prone at my feet, a tyrant's prisoner.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Breaks from Cornelia's grasp and glides in anguish to the +curtained doorway on the right.</i></p> + +<p>Icilius! Icilius! Come to me!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter a lictor—she shrinks back terrified.</i></p> + +<p><i>Lictor.</i> Lady, I must exhort thee to be prudent;<br /> +Such cries will but confine thee e'en more strait<br /> +Than thou art now confined. Silence is best.<br /> +So ordered Appius, our gracious lord. [<i>Exit lictor.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia</i> (<i>sobbing softly</i>). I will be still! But I am so afraid,<br /> +I, innocent, know nothing of the world.<br /> +Life-bondage? Nay, methinks I am but mad.<br /> +Severed from <i>him</i>! Ah! lay me in my grave,<br /> +Rather than have my heart torn from my breast.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Music is distantly heard.</i></p> + +<p>Oh! If to pass in moonbeams from this life<br /> +Mid the pure notes of music stealing on<br /> +Into my brain and sinking in my breast,<br /> +Enveloping my soul; or to the sound<br /> +Of rushing wind—that music of the gods<br /> +Swept by Apollo's hand, or harking to<br /> +The distant murmur of the restless sea,<br /> +Striking its pearly harp of mystic sounds,<br /> +Echoed within the caves where maidens dwell,<br /> +Nereides and Oceanides,<br /> +With faces like the sheen of moonbeams, forms<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span><br /> +Like the white foam their sire, Neptune, makes<br /> +When angered, with his trident! If to sleep,<br /> +Sleeping, to dream, and dreaming, live again<br /> +The years that now lie white upon their bier.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>The moon vanishes behind a cloud.</i></p> + +<p>Ah, me! I am so utterly alone!<br /> +The moon hath veiled herself, the silence drear<br /> +Knocks on my heart, unhidden enters in,<br /> +Where once love and sweet innocence, in peace<br /> +Dwelt, all unscarred by a despoiler's hand.<br /> +It is grown cold! What was that sound I heard?<br /> +I am so sunk in solitude, so wrapped<br /> +In vacant space, so chilled, I gasp for breath,<br /> +Like drowning mariner; but for a hand<br /> +Warm, loving, to uplift me from this death<br /> +Among the living, life among the dead!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Virginia! Weep or pray, but do not so!<br /> +Alas, Virginia, art thou turned to stone?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Virginia, all unhearing, turns once more toward the columns where +the moon again shines through.</i></p> + +<p><i>Virginia</i> (<i>singing</i>).<br /> +"In the deep dream-light thy bark thou art guiding,<br /> +Shifting thy garments, the clouds, as a sail.<br /> +Rocked o'er celestial waves thou art riding,<br /> +Hiding thy features behind a light veil.<br /> +<br /> +Dian, the spell of thy muteness cast o'er me.<br /> +Calm the wild tumult which wars in my brain,<br /> +E'er through my life may thine image, before me.<br /> +Shining and constant as ever remain."</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A silence falls. Virginia steals up to Cornelia, who stands +weeping alone.</i></p> + +<p>My comfort hath not been denied me—see,<br /> +The moonbeams bear the message from the sky.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span><br /> +I hear a song which issues from the stars,<br /> +A song of love and hope for a reunion;<br /> +Re-born, we, who have loved and lost, shall live<br /> +Afar from sin amid the Blessed Isles,<br /> +And walk together, soul with soul, and heart<br /> +With heart; no drop of passionate blood shall be<br /> +Lost in our death, but we shall throb with love,<br /> +And laugh amid the light of suns to be.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A pause. Softly a dim gray light steals through the columns; the +moon is sinking slowly. Cornelia turns in sudden terror.</i></p> + +<p>Farewell, immortal friend, go to thy rest;<br /> +Thy kindly watch is o'er.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Virginia, see!<br /> +Now dawns the cruel day when thou—when thou—<br /> +Ye gods have mercy on us twain this day! [<i>Sobs wildly.</i><br/> +<br/> +<i>Virginia</i> (<i>pointing to the east</i>). It steals with faltering steps and blushing cheeks.<br /> +Call it not cruel; it has wept for me.<br /> +The dew is heavy.<br /> +<br /> +(<i>Voice of lictor without.</i>) See, it is the dawn.<br /> +Look, comrades!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia</i> (<i>starting as from out a dream</i>). Ah, Cornelia! Sure, I sleep.<br /> +Is this my father's house? This four-walled cell,<br /> +This prison, and am I Virginia?<br /> +Could it have been but yesterday I woke<br /> +Within this chamber from a happy dream.<br /> +I dreamed of <i>him</i>, my love, Icilius,<br /> +And woke still with his kiss upon my lips.<br /> +I can recall the flood of morning light,<br /> +A billowed sea of light upon the wall.<br /> +I watched the changing pools and shifting waves,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span><br /> +And smiled; the music of the fount without,<br /> +In rising cadence, played within mine ears,<br /> +And presently the stirring of the maids<br /> +And hum of spinning reached me and I rose,<br /> +Glad, with the day. And now—Cornelia, touch<br /> +My cheek lest I be vanishing to air;<br /> +Feel if my heart yet beats. Methinks I'm dead;<br /> +Even this moment but a roving ghost.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> Courage, Virginia. Why, much hope is left!<br /> +To-day thy father will return, and he<br /> +Would place his soul in jeopardy for thee.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> Courage, ay, courage! I am brave again.<br /> +It is the dawn. Cornelia, we will seek<br /> +The outer court and wash our tears away<br /> +In the cool fountain. Once again my cheek<br /> +Is hot with spirit and my heart beats swift<br /> +With hope and newborn trust in those I love.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Exeunt the two, their arms wound round each other and Cornelia's +lips pressed to Virginia's cheek.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Scene III—The Forum.</span></p> + +<p class="blockquot"><i>A multitude has gathered. Appius is in the judgment seat, with +Marcus Claudius stationed beside him. Many women are weeping and the +men appear silent and angry. Appius is surrounded by a guard of +lictors. Cornelia and Tiberius are seated on the left in a car drawn +by slaves. Near the center are gathered Galba, Hortensius, Horatius, +and Marius.</i></p> +<p> </p> + +<p><i>Marius.</i> This vast suspense weighs on me heavily;<br /> +I would not see that gentle maiden wronged<br /> +For all my world possessions! E'en the gods<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span><br /> +Would shriek with horror if yon slave of Dis,<br /> +Young Marcus Claudius, should seize on her.<br /> +Why doth she not appear?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hort.</i> She and her father,<br /> +Who hath returned, hot-foot, from camp to her,<br /> +Tarry about the town, and every man<br /> +They meet they do address with exhortations<br /> +And prayers for justice and for witnesses,<br /> +That this gross tale which men do know is false<br /> +Shall be so proven. Yet all Rome is prone<br /> +Beneath the foot of Appius and his nine<br /> +Vile colleagues. Fear is most tyrannical,<br /> +Justice is dying, Mercy now is dead.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marius.</i> Then God alone can help the wretched maid!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Hor.</i> (<i>hotly</i>). Nay, shall she be defiled and made a slave?<br /> +Not while my hands are free, my body quick<br /> +With lifeblood, and my heart a man's. Why she<br /> +Is pure and frail as is the mountain snow.<br /> +Happy the man who stands her champion.<br /> +Happy Icilius, our young tribune!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Enter Virginius in mean, plebeian garments and Virginia simply +clothed in white, her dark hair loose. A murmur of sympathy and +admiration greet their appearance, quickly suppressed. Enter from +the other side Icilius, vainly struggling in the hands of armored +soldiers. His hair is wild and greatly disheveled, his features +white and drawn with agony.</i></p> + +<p><i>Icilius.</i> Virginia! Ah, my God! Virginia!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> My Love! My Love! My Love!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He stretches out his bound arms toward her, and in a moment with a +cry she runs to him, regardless of the gazing world, and kneeling at +his feet kisses with fervor the hands in bondage for her sake. +Murmurs from the multitude.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius</i> (<i>rising to his feet, his face aflame</i>). Back, girl! Back from him! Lictor, part the twain!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Lictor unwillingly obeys, whereat Virginia rising slips away from +him to her father's side. Virginius advances, with his hand +uplifted, toward the judgment seat.</i></p> + +<p><i>Virginius.</i> Delay no longer in the trial of<br /> +This matter. We demand in common justice<br /> +A hearing, and at once, O, Appius!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Galba</i> (<i>aside to his friends</i>). Mark yonder man upon the judgment-seat.<br /> +Methinks 'tis he who coveteth the virgin,<br /> +And Marcus but his instrument. Ah, see!<br /> +The Chief is moved to acquiesce. Methinks<br /> +He fears this pleb as he once feared Sicinius.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius</i> (<i>haughtily</i>). And now begins the judgment. Silence, all!<br /> +My client, Marcus Claudius, step forth.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>The man obeys. Virginia, shuddering, looks only at her father.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius.</i> Repeat thy statement, Claudius, we wait.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> O, noble Chief, and all ye men of Rome,<br /> +I but reiterate my words to-day<br /> +Spoken in explanation of my course<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span><br /> +Of action yesternoon. A woman came<br /> +Unto the house of Appius, one moon<br /> +Ago, and came to perish on our hands.<br /> +But ere she died she made a full confession<br /> +Of having served in early years the wife<br /> +Of this our citizen, Virginius,<br /> +Who ignorantly hath been foully wronged,<br /> +For whom we feel the deepest sympathy,<br /> +And unto whom I now address myself.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Turns to Virginius.</i></p> + +<p>O, good centurion, this maid is not<br /> +Thy child in blood; but, as I said, was born<br /> +Of a slave woman in my house. Thy babe<br /> +Died on the moment of its birth. Thou wert<br /> +Away in service. Dost thou not recall?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius</i> (<i>in calm affirmative</i>). Yea, that I do recall. (<i>Aside.</i>) Thou fiend of hell!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>triumphantly</i>). Has he not said? This slave, who did confess<br /> +To us the truth, declared that she had played<br /> +The thief and crept most slyly to my house,<br /> +Stolen the infant of my nurse and slipped<br /> +Out, 'mid the night and gloom, which, friendly, hid<br /> +Her dastard deed. Virginia is the babe,<br /> +And, therefore, lawfully belongs to me.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Ye gods!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Multitude.</i> No proofs? No evidence?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Marc.</i> (<i>proudly</i>). My word!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Much laughter and some hissing.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius.</i> Silence! Virginius, speak, and be as brief<br /> +As the occasion will allow. Proceed.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> Ye men of Rome! To you, and you alone,<br /> +I speak in my defense, for lo! in you<br /> +I see the qualities of common justice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span><br /> +Or faintest sense of mercy, which is rare—<br /> +And less, indeed, unto the point in hand.<br /> +For all these forty years I've lived in Rome,<br /> +A Roman 'mongst the Romans, brave amongst<br /> +The brave, and serving, ere I came of age,<br /> +My mother city. Have I shown myself<br /> +In any manner base, corruptible,<br /> +Or lying, either by my word or deed?<br /> +Ye all are witnesses of me—each man<br /> +Can see and know the truth as God can see.<br /> +This is my babe, of me begotten, born<br /> +Of her whom I so loved—her mother. Lo!<br /> +The very luster of her ebon hair<br /> +Bespeaks the woman who in honor bore<br /> +Virginia. See! The tremble of her lip.<br /> +I do not willingly display my flesh<br /> +And blood to gaze of multitudes, but that<br /> +My straits are desperate. Look upon her hand—<br /> +The long, brown fingers are a copy true<br /> +Of these, though mine are knotted by the grip<br /> +Of sword and the guiding of the plow.<br /> +And now her eyes—Ah, no! I say too much.<br /> +Ye gods of Heaven speak for me this day!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He bows his head upon Virginia's shoulder.</i></p> + +<p><i>Appius.</i> He faints with sudden revelation from<br /> +The gods of what is manifestly true.<br /> +Virginius, thou art deluded, or<br /> +A man, of old, deceptive.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> 'Tis a lie!<br /> +He is Virginius, no more, no less!<br /> +And 'tis enough, as Rome can witness to.<br /> +Thou art not worthy to crawl on the ground<br /> +And kiss the hand which hath these many years<br /> +Battled for Rome! Thou canst but harm our flesh.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span><br /> +His name and mine are unstained as the flame<br /> +On Vesta's altar.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Turns to where Icilius is struggling vainly in the hands of the +guard.</i></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 7em;">Peace, Icilius!</span><br /> +Of what avail is aught to such as these?<br /> +Small hope is left—and yet, O, Appius,<br /> +Wert thou not born of woman? For the one<br /> +Who gave thee life, respect her sisters now.<br /> +Let mercy dawn within thy hardened breast,<br /> +Speak but one word—one word—and many lives<br /> +Will leap and live again. Look down upon<br /> +And honor this grey head, now bowed so low;<br /> +The only stay and comfort in his age<br /> +Wouldst tear from him? His years in solitude<br /> +Will roll away, a never-ending tide.<br /> +Ye Romans, look upon your citizens,<br /> +Protect your women—lest indignant Jove<br /> +Lightnings shall send upon you, or the shield<br /> +Of Mars be taken from its sanctuary.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Icilius at this moment breaks from the grasp of the soldiers and +leaps to Virginia's side. The girl lifts his bound hands and places +them against her breast, raising her eyes to his.</i></p> + +<p>Icilius! I heard a ringing laugh,<br /> +And saw, as in a vision, a young child—<br /> +Our flesh and blood—our souls' inheritor.<br /> +I saw adorning me, in the strange dream,<br /> +A wedding garland fresh, not clanging chains.<br /> +O, if to die within thine arms! But stay!<br /> +My father—see the workings of his face!<br /> +He suffers. Father, we shall meet again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span><br /> +In the Elysian fields, when I am free!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Fools! Cease your maudlin tragedy! Disperse!<br /> +Come forward, slave, the judgment hath been passed.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Cor.</i> (<i>starting</i>). The judgment, and so soon!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Tiberius</i> (<i>leaping from the car</i>). It is not so!<br /> +Virginia, stay awhile!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius</i> (<i>aside</i>). Unbind my hands, Virginia!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> The knot is hard and I am dazed. I tremble.<br /> +Love, wilt thou sacrifice thy life for me?<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Ah! some one loose me of these cursed bonds!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He is seized by the soldiers and again forced from the young +girl's side. Cornelia steps from her car, and coming forward kneels +at the feet of Appius.</i></p> + +<p><i>Cor.</i> Lord Appius, behold a broken heart,<br /> +But one with gentle blood from noble veins<br /> +Forever fed. Though proud, I kneel to thee.<br /> +O, loose her bonds—restore her liberty—<br /> +And I my wealth, my house, and e'en my life<br /> +Shall give to thee or this thy servant here.<br /> +Deep down into the dust I do incline<br /> +Myself, who am a lady of the best<br /> +And noblest line in Rome. I offer thee<br /> +My services, if thou wilt free the maid<br /> +Who did befriend me in mine hour of need.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia.</i> Cornelia! To me! Nay, it shall not be!<br /> +Thou friend of friends, such sacrifice is vain.<br /> +One kiss alone I ask of thee—one kiss—<br /> +Then silence! See, Tiberius weeps for thee.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Tiberius springs with a cry into Cornelia's arms. The two draw off +together. The four citizens come forward.</i></p> + +<p><i>Galba.</i> O, Appius, we offer thee our lives<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span><br /> +To do with as thou wilt—but loose the maid!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i>Petitioners, ye gods, from every side?<br /> +It shall not be, for she is Marcus' slave.<br /> +The judgment has been passed, and I have spoken!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>A murmuring.</i></p> + +<p>Make way! The master comes to take his slave!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Confusion. Appius rises, his face ablaze with passion.</i></p> + +<p>Make way, ye fools! I'll call my colleagues here<br /> +With all their lictors. There will be bloodshed!<br /> +Make way!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Icilius.</i> Ah! but to have my hands about<br /> +His throat, though for a moment, for a breath;<br /> +Though for a heart-beat and, beyond me, Hell!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginia</i> (<i>in a voice of agony</i>). Father! My father!<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> Quiet, little girl!<br /> +O, Appius, the final shred of hope,<br /> +The weakened flame, is gone—forever gone.<br /> +Before we part, indeed, one moment grant<br /> +To us aside, that I may speak with her.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Appius.</i> Haste, then, old pleb! Nor tarry long for tears.<br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> Tears? What are they? My heart is dead and barren,<br /> +My soul athirst for death. Tears mean no more<br /> +To me than rain upon a broken stone.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He leads the girl aside. All watch in breathless silence.</i></p> + +<p><i>Virginia.</i> O, Heavenly Powers above, deliver me,<br /> +By whirlwind or by sword, from this dread place!<br /> +Father, farewell! [<i>Presses his hand to her lips.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Virginius.</i> Ah! Touch it not!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Snatches a knife from a butcher.</i></p> + +<p>Thus only can I make thee free, my daughter!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>He plunges it into her bosom and she falls back into the arms of +Icilius, who has freed himself and leaps to her side with a cry. +Tumult and swaying of the crowd.</i></p> + +<p>(<i>Brandishing knife.</i>) With this blood, Appius! thy life and thee<br /> +Devote I to perdition!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Makes his way with the knife through the multitude. Icilius lays +her body down, murmuring,</i> "Virginia, by thy blood shall Rome be +free!" [<i>Exit.</i></p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Camilla kneels as though stunned beside the prostrate body.</i></p> + +<p><i>Tiberius.</i> Ah me! Ah me! Virginia!</p> + +<p class="blockquot">[<i>Sinks beside her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Curtain.</i>)</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="blockquot"><i>It rises again to show the collected army, with Virginius and +Icilius at the head. Appius is about to leave the seat, his cloak +around his head. Several lictors have fallen to the ground. Camilla +still kneels beside the body, gazing vacantly before her. Virginia's +dark hair falls like a shroud around her.</i></p> + +<p class="center">(<i>Curtain.</i>)</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="huge">POEMS</span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="huge">POEMS</span></p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/013.png" alt="" /></div> +<p class="center"><span class="big">STEWARDSHIP.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +What can I do for Thee, Almighty God,<br /> +Whose breath can wake, whose voice can calm, the sea?<br /> +Should I endeavor, with this striving brain,<br /> +Which, in its striving, errs, and, erring, turns,<br /> +And, fearful, flies from its appointed field—<br /> +With these weak hands, that blindly grope along<br /> +The road of Truth to higher things, uplift<br /> +Those fallen by the way, whom Thou didst name<br /> +My brothers? I, to the sad, ancient world,<br /> +Speak, in unfaltering accents, of my soul's<br /> +Instinctive yearnings, loftiest ideals,<br /> +And holiest hopes of the fair destiny<br /> +Of all my fellow-souls, who tread the way?<br /> +When One has left a message, sweet, divine,<br /> +Eternal, for the fainting world to read,<br /> +Should I arise and cry, an echo faint,<br /> +Of His all-satisfying tones of Love,<br /> +And lisp my dreams of Truth? I am afraid!<br /> +Yet, trembling, still I dare not to be mute.<br /> +Remembering His vast Love, I can not choose<br /> +But humbly say the lessons I have learned.<br /> +Teach me, O God, to feel Thy silences,<br /> +And hear Thy voice aright, in wind and wave;<br /> +Teach me the upward look of Faith and Hope,<br /> +Which lifts, nor ever drags the spirit down;<br /> +Teach me the tender touch and the warm smile<br /> +Of a deep, all-embracing heart, whose light<br /> +Is the sweet essence of true Charity!</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE SEA GULL.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Strong-winged soul of the lifting sea,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Bird of the gale,</span><br /> +Launch thyself from the crags, and fly<br /> +Over the crested waves, nor sigh<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For the sheltered home, but gladly hail</span><br /> +The sea and the open sky!<br /> +<br /> +High, low, high, low,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Over the foam,</span><br /> +Gliding level with the mast,<br /> +Darting close above the vast<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Roll of billows—then come home,</span><br /> +And hide thee from the blast.<br /> +<br /> +Once again, thy pinions free<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Spread to the speaking breeze!</span><br /> +Forward, like a mermaid light,<br /> +Onward, like to a soul as white<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As the curling foam of the singing seas,</span><br /> +Nor shrink from the coming night.<br /> +<br /> +Rolling fog and fading light,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Spread and sail!</span><br /> +Fold thy pinions, breast the deep,<br /> +In the darkness, Spirit, sleep,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Soul of the gale!</span></td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">MT. VERNON.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Home of the Dead! One glance of lingering love<br /> +We cast behind us, where our vessel's wake<br /> +Winds, foaming, backward to Virginian hills.<br /> +Home of the Dead! Retreating from thy shores<br /> +We breathe a final sigh, a last farewell.<br /> +The pillared mansion gleams amid the green,<br /> +The sombre tomb, deserted, stands alone;<br /> +While, over all, a thousand beacons burn.<br /> +The West displays a canopy of sky,<br /> +Woven by angels, flung across the hills,<br /> +Where sleeps the silent dust of Washington.<br /> +<br /> +Bleak is the wind that leaps like blade unsheathed<br /> +From out the silver scabbard of the East!<br /> +At hide and seek, among the ruffled waves,<br /> +The eerie shadows play in elvish glee.<br /> +A thief, Night steals the golden glories bright<br /> +Of Day. But still a flush of silken rose<br /> +Colors the West, stains the broad river's breast,<br /> +And casts a garland 'cross the Eastern sky.<br /> +<br /> +Behold, on either shore, reflected green,<br /> +Dim in the dying lustre of the sun,<br /> +While tips of rose, like diadems, adorn<br /> +And wreathe the gracious brows of drowsy hills.<br /> +Behold and marvel! See and comprehend!<br /> +Amid this beauty lies the sacred dust<br /> +Of one who was a hero and a man,<br /> +While all the hills that sleep about his tomb<br /> +Shine with the glory of God's holy light.</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">MY MOTHER.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Has she faded from my skies forevermore,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Like a star that slides adown the arch of Night,</span><br /> +Or the sunlight, swiftly paling on the shore<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of my boundless sea of hopes, that glittered bright</span><br /> +In the lustre of her smile? Is she gone forevermore?<br /> +Or has she but departed for a while?<br /> +<br /> +Shall I never feel her hand upon my brow?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shall I never meet her lips in kisses sweet?</span><br /> +Or is it that I am denied her now,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And some day shall hear the music of her feet,</span><br /> +And, like Proserpine, will come, with the happy winds that blow,<br /> +Leap the years, and find, in her, my final home?</td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE CRADLE SONG.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Adown the vista of the years,<br /> +I turn and look with silent soul,<br /> +As though to catch a muted strain<br /> +Of melody, that seems to roll<br /> +In tender cadence to my ear.<br /> +But, as I wait with eyes that long<br /> +The singer to behold—it fades,<br /> +And silence ends the Cradle Song.<br /> +<br /> +But when the shadows of the years<br /> +Have lengthened slowly to the West,<br /> +And once again I lay me down<br /> +To sleep, upon my mother's breast,<br /> +Then well I know I ne'er again<br /> +Shall cry to God, "How long? How long?"<br /> +For, to my soul, her voice will sing<br /> +A never-ending Cradle Song.</td></tr></table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">OUT OF THE DARK.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Out of the Dark that shrouded Thee, my Lord,<br /> +Upon that day of Passion and of Pain,<br /> +There rose a cry from Thee which rent the sky,<br /> +Piercing the shadows of the noontide gloom<br /> +In vibrant tones that rang with agony<br /> +Supreme, and, with the strength of holy grief,<br /> +Divine despair, rolled upward on the wings<br /> +Of Mystery unto the eternal Throne—<br /> +"Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!"<br /> +<br /> +Out of the dark that lies about my soul,<br /> +Upon this day of sorrow and of pain,<br /> +I lift mine eyes and gaze with prayerful heart<br /> +Upon the tortured image of my Lord,<br /> +Then lo! the sombre shadows melt away,<br /> +And round my spirit glows a wonderous light,<br /> +By thine own Cross and Passion, blessed Lord,<br /> +And by that mystic moment of despair,<br /> +Thy world shall never know Thine awful Woe,<br /> +Nor cry to God in agony supreme—<br /> +"Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!"</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">NIOBE.</span></p> + +<p class="center">(Dedicated to the statue of Niobe, in the Uffizi Palace, Florence, +Italy.)</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td> +Oh! form of perfect woe, in grief unending!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Soul-anguish, mortal pangs, in marble moulded!</span><br /> +Oh, sobs! by us unheard, that bosom rending!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh, tender form! within those arms enfolded!</span><br /> +<br /> +With heart undaunted, has the Mother striven<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Against Death's vengeance, e'en within its portal;</span><br /> +And when her soul with horror most is riven,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Woman, she dares to face the wrath immortal.</span><br /> +<br /> +So, through the ages, see those forms united<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In an eternal clasp. Ah, woe transcendent!</span><br /> +Upon that face, its beauty all unblighted,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">We read the Mother-love, supreme, resplendent!</span></td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">TO THE GENIUS OF DEATH, BY CANOVA.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Genius of Death! Thou form as white and slim<br /> +As moonbeams, falling through the awful dome<br /> +Above thee when the deathlike night draws down;<br /> +Speak, through those sweet, still lips, whose solemn curve<br /> +Alone gives token of thine ancient, dread<br /> +Supremacy! Say that thou art not Death,<br /> +But holy Calm or silent hushed Repose.<br /> +Still are thy stern lips dumb, no hopeful breath<br /> +Exhaling! Then, from them, do I appeal<br /> +To something more divine. O'er that calm brow<br /> +And carven face, uplifted from the tomb<br /> +In speechless faith, there shines a wondrous light<br /> +That mocks the awful declaration there.<br /> +Genius of Death thou canst not be, for lo!<br /> +Thou art the Soul of Immortality!</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">TO THE WINGED VICTORY OF SAMOTHRACE.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +"Winged Victory?" Unworthy is that name,<br /> +Thou marble miracle of endless Time!<br /> +I see thee standing yonder in the light,<br /> +Upon thy rude and lonely pedestal,<br /> +A shape as strange as it is beautiful.<br /> +To me, thou art a wingéd mystery,<br /> +For where, in all the ages of the past,<br /> +Years of the present, centuries to come,<br /> +Can there be found creation like to thee,<br /> +Conceived by God or Man? A miracle;<br /> +Marble in motion—yet divinely still,<br /> +As though it paused to hear its own low breath—<br /> +Yet breathes not; pacing on its lonely height—<br /> +Yet stirs not; heavenly wings outspread, with chaste<br /> +Angelic curve—yet not in flight extended.<br /> +Thou art not of the living nor the dead.<br /> +Thy wings do breathe of immortality,<br /> +Of Heavenly Presence, yet thy headless form,<br /> +In all its marred and mutilated grace,<br /> +Points to the clay. How can we solve thee, then?<br /> +Enigma so profound was never known<br /> +Among the many countless works of Man.<br /> +Thou art incarnate Mystery itself,<br /> +Brooding above the world; the Universe<br /> +Lies in the shadow of thine outspread wings—<br /> +Thou silent Spirit of the Infinite!</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">BEATRICE TRIUMPHANT.</span></p> + +<p class="center">(To Beatrice Cenci, as she is depicted in Guido Reni's painting of St. +Michael and the Dragon.)</p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Gold hair, blown back from radiant brow,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Crowning, like light, a maiden, martyred head,</span><br /> +Feet planted on the "Dragon," prone,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And mighty wings in victory outspread.</span><br /> +In thee what change, divinely wrought!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">What wondrous resurrection from the dead!</span><br /> +<br /> +He lies, beneath thy righteous feet,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who, cruel craven, caused thee to be slain;</span><br /> +He writhes who let thee agonize,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A captive and in undeservéd pain,</span><br /> +And crawls, in sight of all the world,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Forever rendered loathsome by that stain!</span><br /> +<br /> +And thou, bright dream of brooding light,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With woman's face and angel's stature, thou</span><br /> +Exquisite seraph, fresh from God,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Tell me, why wakes no awful vengeance now</span><br /> +On thy grave lips? Oh! Woman, wronged,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unfold the mystery of that calm brow!</span></td></tr></table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE CALL OF THE IRISH SEA.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea,<br /> +That spreads so free, gray Irish Sea—<br /> +Your freedom mocks the shores you beat<br /> +With the booming tread of your angry feet;<br /> +The Celtic heart no longer sings<br /> +To the rhythmic rush of Freedom's wings!<br /> +Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea,<br /> +Chant Freedom's dirge, wild Irish Sea!<br /> +<br /> +Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span><br /> +You call to me, gray Irish Sea,<br /> +I hear the harp-strings of the North,<br /> +And stirring bagpipes thrilling forth;<br /> +I dream the dreams of olden days,<br /> +I hear bold Ossian chant his lays!<br /> +Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea,<br /> +You call to me, wild Irish Sea!</td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE LION OF LUCERNE.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Hid in a hushed retreat, a lovely dell,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where Mother Nature sings low lullabies,</span><br /> +And weaves her silence like a sacred spell,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Beneath the light of deep and tender skies,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In his lone agony the Lion lies.</span><br /> +<br /> +Colossal creature of a sculptor's brain,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Are you the marble that you seem to be?</span><br /> +Inanimate, untouched by mortal pain?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Within that form, and yearning to be free,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Your soul must wrestle with Death's mystery!</span><br /> +<br /> +There is a height Self-sacrifice may climb,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Nearer the throne of God than any star,</span><br /> +A height above the wasting tide of Time,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Beyond the din of Earth's discordant jar—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A height that untried souls scarce see afar.</span><br /> +<br /> +On that great height the Lion of Lucerne,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With face half-human, with majestic brow,</span><br /> +Lies stretched. Oh, Love! that will forever burn<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">On Pain's dread altar, you alone can know</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The glory and the recompense for Woe!</span></td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">SONNET TO NIAGARA FALLS.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +As on the brink of that which men call Death,<br /> +Standing 'twixt Time and dread Eternity,<br /> +We pause to gaze with fear-suspended breath<br /> +On that abyss, whose depths we can not see,<br /> +So now, I stand, above thy thundering fall,<br /> +Thou Miracle, of marvels most supreme,<br /> +Who summons all the world, with trumpet call,<br /> +To adore the heavenly genius of thy stream!<br /> +In 'wildering confusion, mad disdain<br /> +Of earthly trammels, earthly tyrannies,<br /> +Shrieking, like legions of damned souls in pain,<br /> +Roaring rebellion 'neath the silent skies,<br /> +Fearful as Death, still thou dost seem to cry,<br /> +"I am the symbol of Eternity!"</td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE LOST HEART.</span></p> + +<p class="center">(A Rondeau.)</p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Where is my heart? Ah! Love, I dare not say,<br /> +I only know that it is hid away,<br /> +Somehow,—somewhere,—and somewhat restless there.<br /> +But safely hid away,—poor heart, somewhere.<br /> +<br /> +I strive to call it back to me, but nay,—<br /> +That willful heart refuses to obey.<br /> +And do you ask, thus, in your sad, sweet way—<br /> +You, Love, who know so well its secret lair,<br /> +Where is my heart?<br /> +<br /> +Alone, I wait and wonder, day by day,<br /> +At the poor, pulsing heart, that went astray,<br /> +Once, in the mazes of a woman's hair.<br /> +Could it forsake a labyrinth so fair?<br /> +No need for you to ask, for me to say—<br /> +Where is my heart?</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">IS HE NOT MINE?</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Is he not, mine? Although he drift from me<br /> +Into the Ocean of the Far Away,<br /> +Across the tideless and the awful sea<br /> +Of Time, while I alone must mutely stay<br /> +Within the doorway of a darkened Day;<br /> +Although he shake the dust from his light feet,<br /> +Dust of my warm Heart's Garden, yet I hold,<br /> +My Love forever, radiant, complete.<br /> +He breathes upon me when spring buds unfold,<br /> +He smiles upon me from the roses' gold;<br /> +I hear him in the tender melody<br /> +Of mating bird; his laugh rings, glad and free,<br /> +In every breeze; like stars his dear eyes shine;<br /> +His spirit is a presence, half-divine,<br /> +Which clasps, enfolds my being like a sea!<br /> +Is he not mine?</td></tr></table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">TWO GIFTS.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She laughingly gave me a rose, one day,</span><br /> +And the thorns were sharp,—but the rose was red,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And fragrant and warm from the sun's bright ray,</span><br /> +So I clasped the rose, though my fingers bled,—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And it fluttered in petals away.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She mockingly offered her heart, one day,</span><br /> +And I clasped what she gave, though my own heart bled,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">I gazed in her eyes, and her soft hair lay</span><br /> +On my lips, and I laughed,—though the heart was dead,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And crumbled to dust away!</span></td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE MOONFLOWER.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Earth star of the evening, full moon of the twilight,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pale soul of the dusk, like a virgin in white,</span><br /> +With slow graceful motion, so stealthy, so silent,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">She opens her heart to the kisses of night.</span><br /> +<br /> +Chaste blossom, ah! thus, when my own Love approaches,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And bends o'er my spirit with fervor divine,</span><br /> +Thus would I lay bare, in unbounded devotion,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A heart pure and tender and fragrant as thine!</span></td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THREE KISSES.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +A rampant wind, on a golden day,<br /> +Sported and played with a wild, wild rose,<br /> +He woke her soul from its mute repose,<br /> +He kissed the heart of the wild, wild rose,<br /> +And, kissing,—kissed her leaves away,—<br /> +And now the wind goes sighing.<br /> +<br /> +Love won me, on a golden day,<br /> +He woke my soul, with a kiss sublime,<br /> +And the whole world vanished, and Death and Time<br /> +Seemed nought at the touch of that kiss sublime!<br /> +Love, kissing,—kissed my heart away,<br /> +And now Love goes rejoicing.<br /> +<br /> +An Angel came, on pinions gray,<br /> +In his cold, white arms he clasped my Love!<br /> +Earth reeled, the sun went out above.<br /> +Oh! God! I saw Death kiss my Love,<br /> +And, kissing,—kiss his soul away—<br /> +And now my soul goes wailing!</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">A SONG OF THE WEST.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Into the glowing West!</span><br /> +And lo! the vast and sunburnt plains unfold,<br /> +An endless, rippling, tideless sea of gold,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Our own dear Mother's breast;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The gaunt, the silent earth,</span><br /> +The bare, brown land without a single tree<br /> +Or blossom as a home for bird or bee,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">It lies, endures the dearth,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And smiles in spite of thirst</span><br /> +And parched and craving lips. This is the best,<br /> +The better land, my own, my noble West.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Into the West!</span><br /> +Green, verdant with the strength of endless light,<br /> +Immortal sunlight, radiant and bright!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where man may work, may rest:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">This is my paradise,</span><br /> +A land of flowers and of singing seas,<br /> +Of hoary mountain tops and giant trees,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Beneath vast arching skies,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Skies that are eloquent</span><br /> +With sympathy and soft, and deep and true,<br /> +Gray only when we weary of the blue,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cloudless and all content.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Into the West!</span><br /> +That mother of great men who sing her praise,<br /> +Who marvel o'er her miracles and ways,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As free and unsuppressed</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">As ocean's roll.</span><br /> +Say, O, ye creatures of the further sea,<br /> +What know ye of her grace and melody,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The grandeur of her soul?</span></td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">TO ESTHER.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As Night, before the dawn,</span><br /> +In starry splendor, seems to brood<br /> +Above the world, which waits the morn,<br /> +Yet worships Night in melancholy mood,<br /> +As Night, in whom a solemn passion lies,<br /> +So brood and beam my Esther's midnight eyes.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As sunlight on a rose</span><br /> +In flashing radiance seems to glow,<br /> +Warming the tender heart within,<br /> +To life and love; as early beams bestow<br /> +Upon that rose a soul which can beguile<br /> +A hundred hearts, so beams my Esther's smile.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As love-birds, in the Spring,</span><br /> +Sing on the sylvan boughs at noon,<br /> +And mating-calls in echoes ring,<br /> +Or oft at night they whisper to the moon;<br /> +As stream responds to stream with tender art,<br /> +So, to mine own, replieth Esther's heart.<br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">As sea to distant sea,</span><br /> +In grand response to Passion's cry,<br /> +Declares its own vast mystery,<br /> +And answers wild entreaties with a sigh;<br /> +As waves to waves melodiously roll,<br /> +So sings to me forever—Esther's soul.</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE THRUSH.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +It was the Thrush,—it was the joyous Thrush,<br /> +Who, with his beauteous voice, the woods addressed!<br /> +He sank from heavens unseen, and in the hush<br /> +Of floating fragrance and soft-slumbering flowers,<br /> +Dozing beneath the spell of sun-bright hours,<br /> +His summer shower of song the glade's deep heart caressed.<br /> +<br /> +Bright, speckle-breasted, angel-throated bird!<br /> +He tilted on the hedge, and piped and wooed;<br /> +Now here a note, now there, so low 'twas heard,<br /> +Ofttimes, by one deep listening ear, one only,<br /> +The ear of Silence; he, her minstrel lonely.<br /> +Was it for her divine mute blessing that he sued?<br /> +<br /> +How often I have watched him in the grass,<br /> +Familiar, small, erect, and bravely dressed<br /> +In spotted golden-brown; have seen him pass<br /> +Alertly to and fro, all blithely springing,<br /> +With elfin bounds; no longer wildly winging;<br /> +Content with Mother Earth, as though he loved her breast.<br /> +<br /> +Earth born, sky destined, living harp of song,<br /> +Beloved Thrush, pour forth your notes divine!<br /> +Whether to earth or heaven you most belong,<br /> +What the vast purpose of your melody,<br /> +Your mystic glory, your bright ecstasy,<br /> +I know not,—only this, your soul is sweet to mine.</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE LIGHT OF THE STAR.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Dank were the grewsome alleys of the town,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dingy the houses of the dreary street;</span><br /> +The very dogs reflected degradation,<br /> +Gaunt, wolfish; while God's flowers of creation,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Young children, lacking all that makes life sweet,</span><br /> +Through the foul-smelling night ran up and down.<br /> +<br /> +Under a dull street light I watched them play,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shrilling in high-pitched and unchildlike tones,</span><br /> +Daring the perils of the tainted city.<br /> +Then, in my heart, the horror and the pity<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For human kind that in such blackness groans</span><br /> +Rose, and I could not drive the pall away.<br /> +<br /> +Amid such concrete evils, inbred sin,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I, groping, questioned, could Christ's kingdom come,</span><br /> +By any means? How could he ever enter<br /> +At wealthy portals strong, where self is center,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or at the darkened doors of spirits dumb,</span><br /> +Dulled by the ancient slums' unceasing din?<br /> +<br /> +But, glancing upward, in my deep distress—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Myself so small an atom of my race—</span><br /> +I saw, above the dreadful hovels shining,<br /> +A single star. It seemed, my pain divining,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To answer from illimitable space,</span><br /> +And with its rays to sanctify and bless.<br /> +<br /> +Witness it bore of Law by which worlds move,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Light of the Soul, the Everlasting Mind,</span><br /> +Which—in its compass Earth and Heaven holding—<br /> +Is ever like some shining scroll unfolding,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And will unfold with Time, till all mankind</span><br /> +Shall read Life's one solution, perfect Love.</td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE MESSAGE OF THE PINES.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Tall Southern pines, with hearts of mystic throbbing,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Stretch your restless, weary boughs across the sunset sky,</span><br /> +Dark Southern pines, whose souls are ever sobbing,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I would roam through these dim aisles and learn the music of your sigh.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hark! the wail of hearts that can not weep!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hush! the sigh of souls that long to sleep!</span><br /> +<br /> +Tall Southern pines, I seek these silent places<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Only in my memory—a memory beside me moves.</span><br /> +Dark Southern pines, I love your solemn spaces,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And there in spirit walk, and with her spirit seek the quiet groves.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hark! the moan of human hearts that yearn!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hush! the plaint of dreams that would return!</span><br /> +<br /> +Tall Southern pines, I wrong you in my sorrow.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Harps divine, you chant a dream not passed, but yet to come!</span><br /> +Our two souls shall walk together, on some perfect morrow,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And through the years remain together, when your voices all are dumb.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hark! her spirit whispers in the grove!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Hush! I feel the presence of my Love!</span></td></tr></table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="big">THE LOST SUNBEAM.</span></p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Through fairy green of willows old,<br /> +Aslant the stately, virgin, cold<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Form of the sycamore,</span><br /> +Where poplars laugh, where beeches pray,<br /> +Where breezes sigh, where streamlets sing,<br /> +And birds are ever caroling,<br /> +One morn, I saw a sunbeam stray;<br /> +This single, holy, radiant ray<br /> +On the wide earth had lost its way,<br /> +Escaped through Heaven's half-open door.<br /> +<br /> +"Where will the sunbeam find its home?"<br /> +I idly wondered. "Will it roam<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Until it makes its nest</span><br /> +Perhaps in some dear baby's hair?"<br /> +But no! a baby's tresses shine<br /> +With their own radiance divine—<br /> +The sun of Heaven is always there.<br /> +Or would it find a secret lair<br /> +In flowery heart? Nay, in that rare,<br /> +Deep cell, God's sun long found its rest.<br /> +<br /> +So the lone sunbeam strays at will,<br /> +And longs for Heaven and rest, until<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Into the silent grove,</span><br /> +An old man, crippled by disease,<br /> +Creeps down the path, with weary eyes.<br /> +That are too worn to seek the skies,<br /> +With palsied limbs and shaking knees,<br /> +And fixed, dull stare, that only sees<br /> +The stony ground. Oh! stately trees!<br /> +Shade this drear form with arms of love!<br /> +<br /> +As he pursues his lonely way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span><br /> +Through the green wood, the shining ray<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Straightway appears to dart</span><br /> +To that bent form, and seems to light<br /> +A glory in the thin white hair;<br /> +Then, restless still, it makes its lair<br /> +In the sad eyes, so dim of sight,<br /> +And, smiling through the sombre night,<br /> +It deeper sinks, a radiance bright,<br /> +And nestles in the old man's heart.</td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center"><span class="big">HERITAGE.</span></p> + +<p class="center">(To my Mother.)</p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> + +<tr><td> +Everything beautiful centered in you!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">All that is fair, in your spirit, my Sweet,</span><br /> +From the depths of the sea to the height of the blue,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Lies now at my feet.</span><br /> +<br /> +They are gems, they are gems you have scattered so free,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">From your zenith of thought they have fallen like rain,</span><br /> +From the height of your love they descended to me,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the midst of my pain!</span><br /> +<br /> +Thoughts like the ocean and dreams like the morn,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pure and unsullied, most holy and true;</span><br /> +Dear Love, in my being there shines a new dawn,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whose light is from you!</span></td></tr></table> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Virginia, A Tragedy, by Marion Forster Gilmore + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA, A TRAGEDY *** + +***** This file should be named 36214-h.htm or 36214-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/2/1/36214/ + +Produced by David Garcia, David E. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Virginia, A Tragedy + And Other Poems + +Author: Marion Forster Gilmore + +Release Date: May 24, 2011 [EBook #36214] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA, A TRAGEDY *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, David E. Brown, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Kentuckiana Digital Library) + + + + + + + + + + VIRGINIA + A Tragedy + + AND OTHER POEMS + + MARION FORSTER GILMORE + + + + + VIRGINIA + + A Tragedy + + AND + + OTHER POEMS + + BY + + MARION FORSTER GILMORE + + JOHN P. MORTON & COMPANY + Incorporated + + LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY + 1910 + + + COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY + MARION FORSTER GILMORE + + + + +Dedication + + + TO MY FATHER + + Years can not cloud the light of your clear eyes, + Steadfast and bright with high integrity; + Nor rob your spirit of the strength that lies + On those firm lips; nor dim the purity + Of a high soul, which bears the shield of Love + Untarnished, as it was upon the day + When One, with tender faith, desired to prove + Her "Royal Knight," and gave her heart away. + Bear her bright shield, and smile, as years roll by-- + Years that have crowned you with the priceless crown + Of steadfast faith and worldwide charity-- + Until you reap the joy that you have sown, + In that near land, where, with a light divine, + The eyes you love through all the ages shine. + + + + +[Thanks are due to the proprietors of The Cosmopolitan Magazine and +Leslie's Weekly, for their courtesy in allowing the republication herein +of a number of poems which have previously appeared in issues of their +copyrighted magazines.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + VIRGINIA 1 + + + Stewardship 61 + + The Sea Gull 62 + + Mt. Vernon 63 + + My Mother 64 + + The Cradle Song 64 + + Out of the Dark 65 + + Niobe 66 + + To the Genius of Death, by Canova 66 + + To the Winged Victory of Samothrace 67 + + Beatrice Triumphant 68 + + The Call of the Irish Sea 68 + + The Lion of Lucerne 69 + + Sonnet to Niagara Falls 70 + + The Lost Heart 70 + + Is He Not Mine? 71 + + Two Gifts 71 + + The Moonflower 72 + + Three Kisses 72 + + A Song of the West 73 + + To Esther 74 + + The Thrush 75 + + The Light of the Star 76 + + The Message of the Pines 77 + + The Lost Sunbeam 78 + + Heritage 79 + + + + +VIRGINIA + +A Tragedy + + + + +CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY + + APPIUS CLAUDIUS, + Chief of the Ten and lawgiver of the Romans. + + MARCUS CLAUDIUS, + His client. + + OPPIUS, + One of the Ten. + + VIRGINIUS, + A Roman centurion; a plebeian. + + ICILIUS, + A tribune of the commons and lover to Virginia. + + SICINIUS, + A plebeian soldier and an enemy of the Decemvirs. + + HORATIUS, + GALBA, + MARIUS, + HORTENSIUS, + Four Roman citizens. + + TIBERIUS, + A boy of noble birth; brother to Cornelia. + + THE TEN DECEMVIRS. + + A PORTER. + + + VIRGINIA, + Daughter of Virginius. + + CORNELIA, + A patrician lady, secretly betrothed to Sicinius. + + CAMILLA, + Nurse to Virginia. + + JULIA, + A maid. + + A SIBYL. + + A SLAVE GIRL IN THE HOUSE OF APPIUS CLAUDIUS. + + SOLDIERS, LICTORS, WOMEN, RABBLE, AND SERFS. + + + _Setting--Rome._ _Time--During Supremacy of the Decemvirs._ + + + ACT I--Scene I--The Forum. Scene II--A Street in Rome. + + ACT II--Scene I--The House of Appius. Scene II--Women's + Apartments in the House of Virginius. Scene III--Garden in House + of Virginius. Scene IV--Home of Cornelia. + + ACT III--Scene I--The Forum. Scene II--Home of Virginius. Scene + III--The Forum. + + + + +VIRGINIA + +A Tragedy + + + + +ACT I. + + +Scene I--The Forum. + + _A multitude of citizens gathered therein. Disturbance shown + among them by sullen looks and murmurings. Four citizens, two in + patrician and two in plebeian garments, confer together._ + + _1st Cit._ Enough, enough! I see we all agree + Upon this common cause of our grievance; + Our ranks, our unmixed blood, our differences, + Are all forgotten--nay, methinks they shall + In time together mingle when our blood + Shall be poured forth in this most righteous cause. + + _2nd Cit._ As ever art thou eloquent, O Marius, + And just; Brutus himself were not more so. + Patrician and plebeian, equalized + By common woe, together whisper menace + To those who work such havoc as, indeed, + Was never known in Rome until to-day. + + _3rd Cit._ Ye two are nobles; we, the commons are; + Yet all are leveled by the grief we feel + For Rome, our mother city, who so low + Hath fall'n. Hark! the multitude itself + Is wroth as we, yet, e'en as we, it lacks + The courage needful for this fierce occasion. + + _4th Cit._ Ay, list indeed! Mark how the murmur swells! + + [_They turn, and follow with their eyes the gaze of the Roman + mob._ + + _Voices of lictors_ (_without_). Make way, ye Romans, way for the + noble Ten! + + _3rd Cit._ Pah! they announce them like to royal kings! + + _1st Cit._ Tyrants are ceremonious to the letter. + + _Multitude._ All hail to the lawgivers! Life and peace + Unto the Ten! + + _2nd Cit._ Jove's lightning strike them down, + The turncoats! Ah, the cowards and the curs! + Perfidious gang of fawners! Do they thus + Forget their wrongs in the wrongdoer's presence, + Or veil them with that slime, false loyalty? + + [_Enter the Ten Decemvirs, each preceded by twelve lictors armed + with fasces._ + + _4th Cit._ Lo! the presumption! How each lictor bears + Amongst his rods an axe to indicate + That life and death lie in his master's word. + Once was each tyrant pleased with one attendant + The way to clear--now must they number twelve. + + [_The Decemvirs pause a space, the while their leader, Appius + Claudius, addresses the assembled citizens._ + + _Appius._ Ye Roman citizens! Unto our ears + Murmurings hath arrived laden with strife; + And though this day ye have protested loud + Your loyalty, and hailed us with acclaim, + Ye seem but ill-content. This must not be. + We have been lenient to every class-- + What ye demand in reason ye receive. + Ye called for written laws, and lo! they hang + Within the Forum that all eyes may read. + Yet, mark ye! Read not only, but obey, + Else blood shall pour in torrents on these stones. + + [_Low, angry murmur._ + + What! would ye show your teeth, ye nobles brave, + Would bare your fangs, O ye plebeian dogs! + Your teeth are drawn, patricians, and your fangs + Are dull, indeed, ye curs! [_A hissing protest._ + What, open schism? + Ho, lictors, strike! Ah! would ye calmer grow? + Lictors, enough! Now must we on. Our time + Is pressing. + + [_As he is on the point of departing with his colleagues, his + gaze is arrested by the passing of a girl, clad all in white, + attended by her nurse, through the Forum._ + + (_To a companion._) Now, by the ghost of Ixion, behold + Yon perfect vision of most perfect beauty. + Enchanting grace! Exquisite featuring! + Youth lightly shadowed by young womanhood! + My passions, Oppius, are all awake. + Aflame and spreading fast! Why, I would burn + All Rome to own her, touch her, feel her near; + I would receive the curses of the gods, + Be hurled to lowest Hades, and endure + The tortures set for Tantalus himself + If I might call her mine. Her kiss would prove + Sufficient food for me, her liquid eyes + Would quench my thirst if I should look within + And see the tears or draw the starry light + Into my soul! O, Appius, ye are stricken! + + _Oppius._ Peace, peace, mine Appius, the maid is gone-- + Thy looks are wild, thy features are convulsed + With passion. + + _1st Cit._ See, Hortensius, yon man? + What ails him? Like a madman is his gaze, + And horrid is his flaming countenance. + + _Oppius._ Come, brother, come, my colleague, let's away. + + _Appius._ Hands off, O, foolish man, for I am dead + To protest. I have been by lightning stricken. + + _Oppius._ It is, indeed, too passionate to be + The wound from Eros' feathered shaft. + + _Appius_ (_groaning_). Ah! God! + Where has she gone? I can not see her face + Nor matchless form within the dreary crowd, + Women I spy in plenty. What a mob + Of uncouth shapes and homely featuring + These females are! She was a Cynthia, + And all beside her, hideous and bold + Bacchantes. I'll a lictor straight despatch, + To seize on her, for she belongs to me. + + _Oppius._ Nay, fool! Rash fool! Thou art not Jupiter + In power, that thou darest thus to seize, + In open daylight, objects of thy lust, + When they are daughters of free citizens. + Some shadow of excuse must herald such + Bold actions, lest the rabble rise in arms, + As in the days of fair Lucretia! + Thou canst presume, and yet in thy presumption + Play the sly part of virtue, ay, and justice, + Nor seem a mad and bigoted abductor. + I know the maid; a blameless child of one + Virginius, a soldier and a pleb. + Wait, wait, and on the morrow form thy plans, + But for this moment let the matter rest, + If thou art prudent. Come, let's on; the mob + Follows thy gaze, noting thy steadfast look. + + _Appius._ Speed morrow then. For I am now no better + Than madman; I, who hold the whole of Rome + Under my thumb, am raving only for + Nor heaven nor earth, nor power, nay, nor fame, + But for the captivation of a maid-- + But for Virginia. Onward, let us on! + I'll march into the grim, gray gates of eve + And meet the morrow ere it hath arisen, + Tear down the portals of the night and force + My way into the chamber where the morn + Dozes, a lovely slothful soul of hope, + And seizing on her, madly I'll demand + Virginia! [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II--A STREET IN ROME. + + _Enter Marius and Horatius, two patricians._ + + _Marius._ He dared! he dared! he dared! + + _Horatius._ And will dare more, + Until Rome wakens from her lethargy + And is herself again. + + _Marius._ Till then we wait, + Enduring insult, tyranny, from him, + The common enemy of nobleman + And pleb. + + _Horatius._ Alas! once was he common friend + To both--our lawgiver; what changed him so? + + _Marius._ A worm of pride that gnawed into his heart, + A blast of fiery desert wind that dried, + Withered and seared his noble disposition. + To-day he is a monster, where he was + But yesterday a leader and a god. + + _Horatius._ He angered the patricians by his show + Of democratic policy; the plebs + By barring intermarriage 'twixt the two + Opposing classes! [_Enter Virginius and Icilius._ + + _Virginius._ Blessings, health to you! + Good wishes of a Roman unto Romans. + + _Horatius_ (_bitterly_). Say rather, helpless, sullen, brooding curs! + We are no more--methinks _thou_ art no more; + Nor even thou, Icilius, our tribune. + There are no free, courageous sons of Rome, + But victims only, cowed beneath the lash + Of the Decemvirs--curses on their heads! + + _Virginius._ Methinks I'm not the dog that thou hast said, + For 'tis my part and wish to play the man. + The name of Appius I do despise, + And only bide my time to bury it + Deep in the soil, along with him who bears + Its weight. Although I will not fling myself + Upon the altar of Unreason as + A bootless sacrifice, yet am I still + Nor dog, nor worm, but one who waits and prays, + Nor prays alone, but puzzles out his plan + Of action. No, nor plans alone, but strives; + And striving, must achieve, unless the hand + Of sudden Death come in to tear the web. + Friends, we are hard pressed and we pant in pain, + Yet tyrants, howsoever strong, are still + Weaker than Justice and are shorter-lived + Than Liberty, the queen whom Justice serves. + Because our wrongs are heavy must we brood, + And chafe, and curse our stars and Appius? + What war was ever closed successfully + With sullen warriors and men untrained, + Unready or undone by foul Despair? + + _Icilius._ Thou hast inspired me and curbed my wrath, + Which held in it no reason, all unbound, + Ready to leap a lion on its prey. + Ay, there's a time for all things. I shall wait, + Knowing, Virginius, that thy words are true. + Wisdom, the gods be thanked, hath never flowed + Forth from thy lips in words of honeyed sounds, + Nor yet in pompous phrases burdened down + With ponderous eloquence, but bold and frank, + Shining as bright and ringing forth as true + As thy good sword that thou hast borne so well + In camp, palestra, or in battle-field. + + _Virginius._ My words are bold, for I am full of grief + At men's delinquency and heavy souls; + Frank--ay; because 'tis late to talk in riddles + Or metaphors, that veil the precious truth + Within; shining with fervor, ringing true, + Because the cause I do uphold is true + As life and death is real. + + _Horatius._ Thine eloquence + Is worthy of a better hearing than + This little company. I would that thou + Wouldst lead us into action, noble pleb. + + _Virginius._ My duties are at present with mine own-- + With her, my fair ewe-lamb; when she becomes + The spouse of this our friend and our tribune, + Virginius shall owe himself to none, + But feel compelled the Commonwealth alone + To serve. And here's my hand in oath that I + Shall serve it well! The gods help Appius! + + [_Enter Sicinius, in civilian garments._ + + _Marius._ Greetings, Sicinius, and health to thee! + + _Sic._ And Heaven's favor unto you, my friends. + How now! All deep in sombre conference? + + _Icilius_ (_impetuously_). Sicinius! What curse hath come to Rome, + That bends her proud and regal head beneath + The yoke of shame? The collar of the serf + Hangs heavy round her haughty neck. Ye gods! + The mightly Romulus, methinks, must find + The grave a cell that keeps him from his Rome; + How must his mighty spirit chafe when he + Receiveth tidings from the newly dead, + Concerning this, his city, now so low + Amid the dust of Wrong and Bigotry! + Tell us, thou man of action, what bold move + We needs must make. Oh! be our OEdipus! + + _Horatius._ Hist, noble tribune! Favor silence. These + Are times of peril; cast thou Caution's die. + + _Icilius_ (_amazed_). What! knowest thou not this man, Sicinius? + He who has bearded all the noble Ten, + He whose brave words of indignation ring + From hill to hill of Rome? Sicinius! + + _Horatius_ (_sullenly_). I have been absent from the town these twelve + Long moons, nor know I all that thou dost know. + + _Icilius._ Why, man, look not so sour and so sad. + + _Virginius._ Peace, youths! Sicinius hath but little chance + To speak his mind. I beg of thee that thou, + Good friend, expound thy views as to these days + Of tyranny, for Romans are at bay. + + _Sic._ If I should speak, then would I speak myself + Into my grave; so twist mine earnest tongue + As soon would wring it from its fevered roots, + Mine eyeballs blind themselves with fiery tears + Of love for Rome; my life would withered be + With all the curses breathing forth, aflame + With hate for Appius! Oh, ye gods! in what + Have we outraged you that we now are cursed + With such a blight as Famine never cast + Over the fields of plenty, withering + Alike the grain and the wild wayside bloom, + Sweeping across the vast, bright lands of peace, + And leaving staring Ruin in its way? + Oh! Rome, thou much-wronged child of Romulus, + That I might break the seals from off thine eyes, + And place a flaming sword within thy hand, + A watchword in thine ear--"Endure for her + Who is thy rightful mistress, Liberty." + A battle-cry upon thy glowing lips, + "Onward!" A prayer within thy mighty heart, + And prophecy to stir thy godlike soul + To action. But the times are ripening! [_A pause._ + Could I relate thy wrongs, I would not cease, + Nor spare myself, but speaking, sink to earth, + Worn with the task. Yet who can number them + That are as numberless as Heaven's stars? + I say, as I have said to you before, + We Romans will again secede, again + March, in a body, to the Sacred Mount, + And threaten as of old another Rome, + A nobler Rome, a Rome unbound and free, + To found thereon, or else a revolution, + Bloody and merciless and full of horrors, + Shall ravage Rome, but we be satisfied. + The fire and the sword hath ready tongues; + They fawn not to the great, nor spare the high, + They lick and bite nor fail in eloquence. + So, to the fire and the sword must we + Resort; for city, home, and cherished ones + Demand that guilty blood, as a libation, + Be poured in answer to the blood of Rome, + Which crieth to her children from the ground! + + [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACT II. + + +SCENE I--THE HOUSE OF APPIUS. + + _The curtain, rising, discovers a bondmaid in the center of a + spacious court, filling her pitcher at the fountain. It is + midday, and the light streams down from above, flooding the + entire space with radiance. The woman sings in an undertone, as + she turns to water the roses twined around the columns in the + background. Enter Marcus Claudius. He approaches the maiden, + leisurely._ + + _Marc._ Ah! pretty one! Fortune has favored me! + I enter in due time to proffer aid. + + _Slave._ Nay, shame on thee, a man free-born, to thus + Address a bondmaid, when there is no need. + + _Marc._ Thy humble mien is fitting, girl, but I + Am modest, and, thus far, will graciously + Demean myself. + + _Slave._ Demean thyself, indeed! + I only mocked thee, fool; thy proffered aid + I scorn. Low-born plebeian, who art thou, + To set thyself above a child of kings? + + _Marc._ (_angrily_). Ha! Have a care! Take heed! Thy saucy tongue + Eludes thee, mischief hungry. Fairest slave, + But for that very fairness which is thine, + I'd have thee lashed by him who favors me! + + _Slave_ (_wheeling about in scorn_). Who shelters, who + supports, who uses thee, + And for his own vile ends! Lends thee his brains, + His power and knowledge for thy petty, sly + Returns. He, fierce and false; thou, mean and small; + He, merciless; thou, only Marcus' friend-- + And both unscrupulous as Mercury. + + _Marc._ (_furiously_). Thou art too scathing in thy judgment, damsel! + + _Slave._ Nay, I am mild to what thou dost deserve. + + _Marc._ How darest thou, a slave, to judge me so? + + _Slave._ King Tarquin, called Superbus, or the Proud, + He was mine ancestor. And I, alone + Left of his line, in bondage languish. _Thou_,-- + What canst thou boast of? Of the blood of plebs, + Yet lower e'en than they who gave thee birth; + Despised of all, for thou art neither slave, + Nor free; thou hangest slothlike on the skirts + Of mighty men, that they may represent + Thy cause--support, succor, and plead for thee, + In gratitude for thy poor services. + Avaunt! Fawner and client, touch me not! + + [_She spurns him when he would approach her, and haughtily departs._ + + _Marc._ (_gazing after her_). Adieu, thou helpless + scorner, chained despiser, + Thy tongue hath sought to whip me sore--in vain. + A client knows not shame nor injured pride. + Nor is he haughty, for the blood of kings + Heats not his veins. So Marcus, too, is low, + Ready to stoop to aught, however base, + To gain his ends. But triumph over triumphs! + Marcus will issue forth the conqueror. + Flushed with his victory, while other men + Lie low and bite the dust because they clung + To honor! He, clean void of conscience, sucks + The sweets of life down to their sweetest dregs. [_Pauses._ + Ha! who is that? My master hath returned! + + [_Peers through a curtained doorway on the right. As he + retreats, Appius Claudius enters hurriedly. His toga is + disordered, his countenance aflame with wine and passion. He + throws himself heavily upon a couch._ + + _Appius._ Wine, fetch some wine! At once, with no delay! + + _Marc._ (_aside_). And drunk as Bacchus at his wedding-feast! + (_Aloud._) Which kind, my lord? + + _Appius._ Falernian! Mark ye, dilute it not! + + _Marc._ (_aside_). I need no prophet's eyes to see his end. + To Bacchus I assign him with due care. [_Exit._ + + _Appius_ (_in hoarse undertone_). I looked but once, + and, looking, she was gone, + Leaving me reeling, drunk with loveliness. + I have imbibed deeply this day in wine, + Yet hath it less intoxicating power + Than hath a tremor of her lashes or + A flutter of her garments! I am struck, + And heavily! [_He groans and clasps his head with his hands._ + Virginia! Elements + Are in thy name--tempest and burning flame! + My soul is tossed as though it were at sea, + My brain is floating on the vacant air, + My heart consumed in everlasting fire! + + [_Enter Marcus, bearing a goblet and an amphora._ + + _Marc._ Thy rare Falernian. + + _Appius._ Fill me the cup. [_Drinks._ + Sweet solace and indulgence of the gods, + Unequaled nectar, give me satisfaction! + Better to me this pleasure than the sight + Of fair Elysium. Such ecstasy + As is the privilege and portion of + Souls freed from Hades and its rack and wheel + And snatched to Heaven, can no sweeter be + Than is mine ecstasy, when wafted on + The summer zephyr, comes this breath, divine, + Of nectar and ambrosia in one. + Virginia, to myself, to thee, to Love, + I drink! And now, my Marcus, sit thee down! + I would confer with thee. + + _Marc._ (_seats himself_). What is thy will? + + _Appius._ Marcus, this morn I made my way in state + Through Rome--and, in the market-place, beheld + A sight that hath undone me for this day. + My heart hath slipped its leash and now is set + Hard on the trail, not to be turned aside. + + _Marc._ What vision hath the gods vouchsafed thee, then? + + _Appius._'Twas more than vision, thanks to Vulcan be, + Who did create that mortal styled a woman, + At once a snare, at once a perfect boon; + At once a curse, at once a lasting blessing. + It was a maid, a lowly, mortal maid, + A maid of mean plebeian birth as well, + Yet beautiful as though she had arisen + From out the golden heart of some fair rose, + Or drowsy, dreamy, tempting, fresh and fair, + Had issued, shyly, from the troubled depths + Of rock-bound spring, a nymph but newly born, + And shrinking from the glances of the morn. + Virginia, child of one Virginius, + Centurion of courage and renown, + She burst upon me like a revelation + Unto a prophet. She is mine as sure + As are the stars possessions of the Night. + She'll have no will but mine, no choice but mine; + She'll yield her body unto me, until + I find the chance to win her heart and soul. + I'll hold her and I'll kiss her heart away; + I'll chain her soul to mine with links of gold. + But whether she shall ever love me true + I little care, so that her lips are mine. + So that I daily touch her hands and feel + Her dusky hair blow cloudlike 'gainst my cheek. + Marcus, thou art the man to work my weal, + By aiding me in this, mine enterprise. + + _Marc._ What! Shall I play the game and thou receive + The winnings? + + _Appius_ (_haughtily_). Ay, assuredly. O, pause, + And pausing, see thyself in honest light. + Thou art my client; thou to _me_ dost owe + Thy safety, standing, possibly thy life. + I know the law--I _made_, the law, the while + Thou canst not read a letter; as a pleb + Few rights are thine--those few I gave thy class + At the expense of the patrician favor. + Break with me, and thou'lt break thy fortunes, ope + Thy chest of troubles, like the silly maid + Who brought untold misfortunes on herself + And on the world. Assist me and thou'lt gain + My favor, keep my needful, strong protection. + + _Marc._ Enough! I follow thee and will obey. + + _Appius._ E'en to the letter? + + _Marc._ To the letter, lord. + + _Appius._ Then hearken. Choose some morning, soon or late, + And hasten to the market-place. The maid + Receiveth schooling there. When she appears, + Spring forward boldly, seize her by the arm, + (And yet be not too rude in thy demeanor); + When all the multitude around demand + An explanation, say to them that she + Was born of a slave-woman in thy house, + Ere thou a client had become. And add + That she had been in secret borne away, + And, by the wife of one Virginius, + Claimed as a child; her own at birth had died, + And he, Virginius, kept in ignorance, + Grossly deceived, believeth it his flesh + And blood. The tale is wild; no proof hast thou, + Nor witnesses; and yet it is enough + Seeing that I control the Romans as + The Fates control the lives of mortal men, + And need the barest shadow of excuse + To work my will--I, who am autocrat! + Assume a righteous air, if that doth lie + Within the limits of thy doubtful, rare + Accomplishments. When they protest, then say + "To Appius for justice I will go," + And leave the rest to me. + + _Marcus._ Ay, leave to thee + The cowing of the Roman mob, for that + Lieth within the limits of _thy_ rare, + Doubtful accomplishments. So let it be. + I'll serve thee well--will my returns be worthy + The peril of my venture? + + _Appius._ Also leave + That matter unto me. + + +SCENE II--WOMEN'S APARTMENTS IN THE HOUSE OF VIRGINIUS. + + _Style of ornaments and hangings very simple. Virginia, bending + over her nurse, who is seated in a chair, appears to have just + completed the arrangement of the latter's hair._ + + _Virg._ Nay, now, let be! 'Tis most becoming so. + What! would'st thou call't presumptious to assume + The style of headdress worn by noble ladies? + Foolish Camilla! Thou art nobler far + Than many score fine dames, however high + They hold their heads or wear their tresses--so! + Oh, 'tis entrancing! Stay, I have not done. + + _Camilla_ (_groaning in mock despair_). Alack! was + ever nurse so harried by + A maid as silly and as sweet as thou! + + _Virg._ No, never! for I'm sweet because I've kissed + Thy kind old cheek so oft and have imbibed + Therefrom the sweetness only found in thee. + And I am silly--I suppose, because + The gods have made me so. Now, turn about + Thy head. How white thy hair of late hath grown! + + _Camilla._ Alack! mine age is on me! + + _Virg._ (_passionately caressing her_). Nay, not so! + Or if 'tis so, I love each silver thread. + Kiss me, Camilla--but I must proceed + With this thy toilet. Now is it complete. + Oh, Jupiter! it is a work of art! + Sweet nurse, thou wilt amaze my father when + He catches sight of thee. [_Seizes a mirror._ + Come, view thyself. + 'Tis not ill-done, for I have marked the style. + Shake not thy head at me, I prithee now. + I only sport with thee. Look not so grave. + + _Camilla._ Sweet one, because thou art so gay to-day, + I fear to-morrow thou wilt be in tears. + Excess of spirits bears excess of grief. + Thou'rt young and fair as Hero; but to her + Misfortune came and loss and heavy woe! + + _Virg._ Now, thou remindest me of Wisdom's owl-- + Croak not so somberly. Thou who art one + Whose heart is ever genial with mirth, + Wrong'st Nature to cast shadows over youth. + + _Camilla_ (_drawing Virginia to her tenderly_). My little love, + I would not seem to sigh; + Ever have I despised a sorry face, + A gloomy or foreboding disposition. + Thou hast most aptly said that I to-day + Belie my character. Forgive! Forget! + + _Virg._ (_pouting_). Forget, thou croaking raven of despair? + Thou dost expect too much. I may forgive, + But not forget. What ailest thee to-day? + Art thou not ill or weary with thy tasks? + We'll make thy labor lighter, and thy cares + As to the household now shall rest on me. + + _Camilla._ Not so, sweet child. There is no need for that. + I am not ill nor weary, nay, nor sad, + But fearful and in dread of hidden woe. + What may the morrow bring to thee, my babe, + Or to thy father, or thy lover? What, + I can not see, but only feel and dread. + + _Virg._ Camilla! Something surely ails thee now. + Oh! I am mystified and overcome + By thy prophetic words, thy drear address, + And I would probe thy meaning deeply, lest + A vision should have warned thee of a flood + Of coming tribulation. Gentle nurse, + Hast visited of late the oracle? + Speak! Speak to me! Speak to Virginia! Say! + Tell me, nor torture me upon the rack + Of fear and dread prolonged. + + _Camilla_ (_slowly_). If it were aught + That I might put to thee or e'en myself + In syllables, I'd speak. But syllables + Are clumsy things. Words are inanimate, + Dull, helpless weapons, powerless unless + The thoughts are present skillfully to wield + The blades. Then cut and thrust they mightily, + Ready to wound, or e'en with menace kill. + I know not what I fear. I know not why + Nor wherefore. Has the gift of second-sight + Been by the gods this day on me bestowed? [_A pause._ + I seem to see great sorrow brought about + By shameless wrong; I seem to see a cloud, + Laden with anguish which may soon descend + In burning drops on Rome, where'er I turn. + Who are the victims I can not discover, + But when I close mine eyes from out the black + That blinds them, lo! a knife like lightning sent + By Jove flashes upon me--and is gone! + + _Virg._ (_sobbing_). Alas! My joy is fled and all is gloom. + Sure 'tis some peril scowling o'er my father. + Mayhap e'en now he lieth in the camp, + Struck down by men who envy him his fame! + Oh! horrid thought! most dread, most cruel thought! + + _Camilla_ (_arousing herself with effort_). Nay, weep not, my + Virginia; I regret + Those vague emotions which are doubtless false + Deceiving dreams, sent me by Mercury, + Who oft delights in filling mortal minds + With gray forebodings, as thou art aware. + Quick! Kiss me, child, and dry those silly tears. + Lo! now methinks I hear thy father's step. + + _Virg._ (_joyously_). Father! mine own dear father! + + (_Voice of Virginius without._) Little one! + No welcome at the door? + + [_Virginia runs to the curtained doorway, through which her + father enters, and flings her arms in tearful ecstasy around his + neck._ + + _Virginius._ What! tears, dear heart? + + _Virg._ But smiles will clear them soon. I feared for thee-- + Most foolishly, yet ne'ertheless, I feared. + + _Virginius._ Most foolishly, indeed, my dark-haired Psyche, + Thou pure-embodied soul, my spirit's light. + Look up, dear child, and kiss thy father fond. + He's wearied and he needs his heart's restorer. + + [_The two come forward, he in his shining armor, she nestling + birdlike in the shelter of his arm._ + + My daughter, I have seen Icilius. + + _Virg._ Ah! Father! + + _Virginius_ (_mockingly_). "Ah! Father!" Ay, I saw him. Me he held + Firmly, besieging me with queries, all + Concerning thee. How had Virginia fared + While he was absent?--the presumptious boy! + Couldst thou fare otherwise than well with me? + And then with eager eyes he questioned as + To thy remarks, thy thoughts concerning him, + Thy attitude to things in general. + Where did Virginia spend her days? In school? + Was she by chance affrighted at the state + Of Rome since he had left her? Like unto + A feverish flame, he reached on every side, + Hungry for news of his Virginia. + + _Virg._ (_dreamily_). My Love! My Love! Mine own Icilius! + Oh! gentle gods, my happiness exceeds + My worth. But yet, amen! So let it be. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE III--A GARDEN OVERGROWN WITH ROSES. + + _Enter Virginia and Icilius. Twilight deepening into night._ + + _Icilius._ This is an eve of witchery, an hour + Alluring, swelled with love and weighted down + With dreams. + + _Virg._ A time when all our best ideals + Are perfected. Reality is dead, + Deep-buried in her grave, and Heaven and Earth, + Swayed by the wand of sweet Imagination, + Languish beneath the velvet robes of Night. + + _Icilius_. And 'tis a night more fair than when Dian + Cast lustre on the young, unwitting face + Of that deep-slumbering boy, Endymion. + + _Virg._ Oh! happy boy! a goddess kissed thy hair, + Mused o'er thy brows, and sighed above thy lips. + + _Icilius_. Thrice happy man, who treasures human love, + And humbly may accept that precious gift, + A mortal maiden's heart, nor sigh for more. + There is no more, nor anything so fair, + As such a dear possession. Happy he, + Who can, though but one instant, close and warm, + Hold woman's form, or kiss the starry light + Into her eyes, the blood into her cheeks! + And such a man, Virginia, am I. + + _Virg._ (_shyly_). Not once in life, dear Love, but many times. + + _Icilius._ Not once, not twice, not thrice, but many times. + + _Virg._ What might lies in the warmth of kisses given! + Like wine they strengthen, quicken, stimulate, + Like flame they warm, like moonlight satisfy. + Like stars uplift above the common world. + Dear Love, I am a weak and fearful child + And need my wine, my flame, my moon and stars, + To fit me for the years that lie ahead. + + _Icilius._ Thou lookest pale, in need of stimulant-- + + [_Kisses her._ + + Once more, sweetheart! Nay, wouldst thou draw away? + + _Virg._ Not so. Mine ears deceived me, hearing sounds + Of stealthy listeners. + + _Icilius._ Virginia, + Rest here upon this bed of roses. They + Are "red with anguish for Adonis' death," + That mortal love of Venus. Dear, recline, + And let thy tresses, darker than the night, + In the breeze fluttering, caress my cheek, + Breathing thy love for me. + + _Virg._ Icilius, + 'Twas only yestereve I wandered here. + The sun was casting forth his fading beams + In final efforts most supreme; my thoughts + Were full of peace and thee. And in the light + Shed by the homing sun--the purple, red, + And gold--I dreamed fair dreams, imagined visions. + Methought I saw the coming years of bliss, + Deepened with sorrow, lined with simple care; + The sorrow of a mortal, and the care + Of wife and mother. Then, at once, arose + Longings that I might always worthy be, + As was Eurydice of Orpheus. + Never to falter, howsoe'er I feared, + Turn not, stay not, fail not; a woman in + My services and steadfast faith, as well + As my most passionate love. My thoughts are grave; + Perchance they do accord not with thy mood? + + _Icilius._ Not so, thou spirit of sweet harmony, + My life and soul, my one bright guiding star. + Thy lover is a rude and careless man, + A Roman tribune, weighted with affairs, + Stern to my fellows, tender but to thee. + Yet when I look on thy beloved form + And perfect face, my sins are swept away, + As is the unclean wrack, upon the shore, + Swept by the ocean. Ay! and in its place + Are left pure pearls and shells and wonders such + As only dwell where man can never go-- + Thy thoughts, Virginia, pure as virgin snow. + + _Virg._ Last night I lay awake amid the dark, + Hearing the music of the fount without + My window; sharply, trebly sweet it broke + The heavy, voiceless gloom of slumbering + Nature and sleeping men. Awake, I dreamed + Of all the bliss the gentle gods have placed + Within my hold. Then, like a swelling sea, + High in my bosom rose the newborn love. + I thought of how it grew, so shy, so slow, + At first like faltering breeze that lightly stirs + And lifts the tiny feather o'er the heart + Of nesting bird, then gaming courage, grows + Into a gentle wind until the soul + Within leaps up, and mighty, strong, and free, + Soars on celestial wings above the raving sea. + + [_A silence falls, during which a light begins to break in the + eastern sky._ + + _Icilius._ We have outsighed the day; the rising moon + Her benediction smiles upon this spot, + Where breathes and hopes and loves Virginia. + + _Virg._ She signals faintly, from the brightening east, + To thee, my hero and my love. + + _Icilius._ One kiss, + One kiss in honor of fair Cynthia. + May blessings come to thee with every ray + From yonder orb which rises o'er the hills + Of Rome and lights a glory in thy hair. + Elusive soul! this moment dost thou seem + A chaste, pale spirit of the lonely moon, + A white Diana of nocturnal glades, + Yet in the magic of the ardent sun + I've seen thee flame into an Aphrodite, + A glowing type of passion and desire. + My love, my full and perfected ideal, + My Helen and my delicate AEnone. + My nymph and my incomparable queen + In one. Come closer to my arms, beloved! + I would not lose in any sense or thought + A moment spent with thee, Virginia. + + _Virg._ (_in his arms_). Closer, ay, closer, as the days go by, + Deeper and deeper, stronger and more strong, + Each in the other till we are not two, + A man and maid, but one, but one. Oh! say + How close I am to thee, Icilius? + + _Icilius._ As close as vein to leaf, or leaf to stem; + As close as is the rose-flush in the heart + Of ocean's shell unto the shell itself; + Close as the star is to its atmosphere; + Wedded as day and night, no break, no void + Between, but only faintest change and lights, + Born of a higher world, a purer sphere, + Heaven-conceived, begotten of the sky. + + [_The light visibly brightens, shining down upon the two. After + a silence they stir and slowly walk apart, watching the sky. + Icilius presently rejoins Virginia._ + + Love, thou art weary. Come within and sleep. + + _Virg._ Nay, I could never weary in thy sight. + Have I not called thy kisses and embrace + My wine, my flame, my moonlight and my stars? + I am not weary. But I'll come within-- + The morrow brings a fresh Elysium. + + _Icilius._ Oh! but the night is fair; behold each rose, + How tenderly preserves and cups its dew, + Barely awakened, lifting up its head + And smiling at the moon. One kiss before + We go within. And now, farewell, thou rose; + Farewell, thou garden of nocturnal dreams + And noon-day musings. Come, Virginia, + Let us within. + + +SCENE IV--HOME OF CORNELIA. + + _Apartment spacious and luxurious, with hangings of various + kinds. Cornelia, who is reclining in an arm chair, occupies the + center of the room; a female stands behind her in the act of + arranging her hair. On the left is a boy in rich patrician + dress, seated beside an oblong bath, engaged in sailing a tiny + fleet of vessels on the surface of the water. On the right are a + number of attendants, conversing in undertones._ + + _Cor._ Ah, gods! I am most sad and most aweary + Of this routine of state, unrestful splendor. + My lovers love not me but my possessions, + My friends are envious of my delights. + Wretched aristocrats! Unhappy we + Who call ourselves patricians, and who swear + Our race is blessed of the most blessed gods! + Say rather cursed, and with a heavy curse! + How can I give my heart to those who are + By _noble_ blood worthy and eligible, + After the Roman laws, to sue for it? + Eros with them is but an empty name; + Passion and lust and horrible ambition + Form the emotions of these "blessed" ones. + And I, unhappy, love with pure desire + Sicinius, a soldier and a pleb! + Yet hath the Ten forbidden intermarriage, + Just when those bars of difference were about + To fall away and Heaven ope for me. [_To the attendant._ + Sufficient, Julia. + + _Julia._ Nay, a few light touches + And thou wilt shine more fair, my lovely mistress, + Than heavenly Venus in her myrtle bower. + + _Cor._ (_smilingly_). But I am dark as night; she as the day, + Thou foolish maid. + + _Julia._ Believe me, thou in thy + Rich, languid charm would cast enchantment o'er + Adonis, as would keep him from the chase + Where Venus pled in vain. + + _Cor._ Tut, flatterer! + + _Julia_ (_slyly_). Methinks I'd make a model lover then + If I do flatter. Is't not so, sweet lady? + + _Cor._ (_bitterly_). Lovers are mockeries in this blackened age. + A maid may wed the low-souled fool so long + As he's high-born! The man of noble mind + Is numbered, if a common, 'mongst the dead. + + _Julia_ (_idly_). Methinks Sicinius comes here anon? + + _Cor._ (_in displeasure_). What! Insolent! Who bade thee speak, + I pray? + + _Julia_ (_softly_). Lady, mine eyes are clear and quick to see, + And thy heart's sentinels are slumbering. + I mean no insolence, by all the gods! + My motive only love and sympathy. + I, too, am a plebeian, and rejoice + To see thy gracious, noble condescension. + Yet in my joy I well could weep with pain, + Seeing the darkness of thy doubtful future. + + _Cor._ Darkness! It is a void as empty as + My heart this day is full. Begone, I pray, + Each one of you; nay, thou, my Julia, stay + And bid the bards perform a soothing lay. + + [_Exeunt maids. Sounds of a harp without in soft accompaniment._ + + _Cor._ Tiberius, come hither unto me. + + [_The boy approaches her._ + + Now kiss me, child, and talk a space with me. + + _Tib._ What melancholy broods upon thy brow, + Curves thy dear lips, and glooms within thine eyes? + + _Cor._ Brother, thou art too young to comprehend. + + _Tib._ Mayhap, for I am only twelve years old; + Yet I'm no dullard, sister, and I weep + Because I see thee sad. Methinks Sicinius + Would weep for thee as well. + + _Cor._ (_starting in dismay_). Ye gods of love! + Does all Italia observe my heart, + Which I had deemed secure within my breast? + Or possibly (although the gods forbid!) + My maidens have been gossiping to thee? + + _Tib._ (_disdainfully_). No, never; gossip reacheth not mine ears. + But oft I hear thee sigh and then, within + The selfsame breath, breathe forth a name I know; + A name all Romans know--Sicinius. + Ay, and I oft have heard thee sob, although + I fain had heard it not, since thou desirest + Thy grief held secret. Sister mine, how canst + Thou hope to wed a soldier and a pleb? + + _Cor._ Alas! Alas! Mine own Tiberius! + No hope have I, and yet I love my strength + Away--my heart and soul are all aflame + With a wild conflagration. Boy, thou seemest + Inclined to comprehend my fierce emotions, + Bitter despair and strange besieging hope, + That scarce is conscious hope, but mocked and crushed + By the stern laws of Rome and tyranny + Of the false Ten, since ever it was born. + Thy bright brown eyes are luminous with soul; + Wise, gentle brother, dost thou weep for me? + + _Tib._ (_sobbing passionately_). A curse upon those false and + dreadful Ten! + Cornelia, would that I might succor thee! + + _Cor._ Most dear, my brother, weep no more for me; + The gods, who love true lovers, do despise + Tyrants and murderers, and sure will aid + Our cause if we be patient to the end. + Time is a greybeard, and he will not haste + At any whim, and Fate, a bigot stern, + Who acts according to his quick desire; + He preys on Innocence as well as Guilt, + And none can change the fashion of his ways. [_A pause._ + Now, tell me, wast thou playing mariner, + But now, and was yon bath a mighty sea? + + _Tib._ (_brightly_). I was AEneas, our great forefather, + And I was sailing from our ancient Troy. + Oft Juno dashed our ships against the rocks + In spite, because the Trojans she abhorred; + Yet, by a miracle, lo! I was saved. + + _Cor._ And didst thou then encounter and escape + Scylla's dread arms, Charybdis' frightful jaws? + + _Tib._ Ay, and therefrom lost I three goodly men-- + Two oarsmen and my helmsman. + + _Cor._ Cruel fate! + Perchance thou hast survived these perils, so + Thou mayst give comfort to thy troubled sister. + Methinks--but what familiar sound is that? + Surely his voice dismissing his attendant-- + And now a knocking on the outer door! + The porter cometh nigh. Tiberius, + 'Tis he! I dreamed not he could come this day! + + _Tib._ Then I'll begone, sister; give me a kiss; + I'll seek thee later and relate my voyage. [_Exit._ + + _Cor._ Ah! gods! I feel as fluttered as a maid + Of the plebeians might. Thus do I share + The simple nature of his simple class, + Through my deep love for him. My haughty mien, + Patrician dignity, desert me when + Mine own beloved cometh unto me. + + (_Voice of porter without._) Most gracious mistress, + I await thy pleasure, + To usher in a visitor to thee. + + _Cor._ (_aside_). I must not seem too eager, comprehensive, + Lest e'en my faithful porter, noting it, + Let slip without my doors some foolish scandal. [_To porter._ + Who is the visitor? + + _Porter._ Sicinius. + + _Cor._ Admit Sicinius into my presence. [_Enter Sicinius and porter._ + + (_Aside._) Dear Heaven! My Love! (_Aloud._) Thou Gaius, to thy post + Begone! And Julia, do thou too withdraw. + + [_Exeunt the two. A silence falls. Cornelia remains seated, a + still form, most beautiful, endeavoring to calm her loving + passion, one hand upon her bosom and her eyes fixed on the face + of Sicinius, who stands motionless with admiration._ + + Sicinius! + + _Sic._ What can I say, oh, God! + Thou art too fair, thou art too wondrous fair + For me to break the spell. Awake! Awake! + Dreamer I am not wont to be, save when + Thy beauty casts a web of visions o'er me. + + _Cor._ My beauty paleth in the greater light, + O my Sicinius, of thy manhood's worth. + Awake, indeed, and greet me. I can face + Thy gaze no longer; art thou turned to stone? + + _Sic._ (_advancing, with his arm outstretched in a sudden + warmth of passion_). I turn to stone only upon the day + When I can neither claim nor clasp my love. + Till then mine arms continue flesh and blood, + My lips as warm as thine; thou radiant Soul! (_Embracing her._) + + _Cor._ Oh! stay a space! Is every curtain drawn? + + _Sic._ I do not know, for thou hast dazzled quite + My goodly eyesight, and I only see + Cornelia here and there and everywhere. + + _Cor._ Alas! I fear so greatly for our love; + Pray Heaven thou lose me not entirely! + + _Sic._ Nay, rest thee, rest thee, tremble not, beloved. + The life of Appius will soon be spanned, + And a great wave of revolution shake + Rome's center; soon I drop a mighty pebble + On her dark surface, and the rings therefrom + Into a rush of water thence shall widen. + + _Cor._ (_partly rising from her chair, her eyes alight_). + The Fates be thanked that now the foul stagnation + Of Rome, enslaved, is stirring into life; + And _thine_ the hand! Thou'rt worthy of the cause, + Thou patriot and model of a man! + + _Sic._ Oh! but I love my city and my race! + Thank God that my stern duty lieth on + The selfsame path as love for thee, my sweet. + My conscience and my happiness alike + Demand that I should aim to liberate + Rome and the Romans from the yoke of men + Who are defiling and defiled--the Ten! [_Starts suddenly._ + I came, that I might steal one glimpse of thee. + The sun is high--I may not tarry more. + + _Cor._ So soon departing? Whither wouldst thou go? + + _Sic._ Straight to the Forum--then unto the camp. + The movements of our foemen, the Sabines, + Are grave. Methinks I'll soon be called upon + To enter into active services. + Farewell, Cornelia! kiss me once again! + Sweet mistress, noble lady! fare thee well! [_Exit swiftly._ + + _Cor._ Gone! Gone! So swiftly, like an eager shaft + From Roman bow. Vanished, my gallant love! + Where shall I see him when he doth return + To me? May Mars attend and favor him, + And Victory with laurel wreath adorn + His earnest brows. Sicinius, farewell! + + + + +ACT III. + + +SCENE I--A CLOUDY MORNING IN THE FORUM. + + _Busy passing to and fro of citizens. Enter Cornelia and + Tiberius, attended by two slaves. The former appears + embarrassed, fluttered, and distressed, the latter troubled and + concerned._ + + _Cor._ Gods! How the people stare upon me, brother! + Alas! They reek not of a woman's heart, + But judge me bold and courting their attention, + I who am hungry for one gaze alone, + Yet can not find. So many days have passed, + No tidings from my love hath reached mine ears, + And rumors that he's dead hath driven me + Close unto madness. All my slaves have sought, + But failed to find him. I am desperate! + Surely the ears of one who loves will hear, + Surely the eyes of one who loves will see, + And learn his fate, whether for good or ill. + He will forgive me for exposing her + He loveth to the gaze of multitudes! + + _Tib._ Ay, but most likely he was called to serve + Rome in the latest skirmish with her foes. + Thy fear it is unfounded. + + _Cor._ Nay, my child, + The skirmishing they say is discontinued, + And all who fought therein returned unto + The camp, save only those who fell beneath + The Sabine spears. My Love hath not been seen, + And I can rest no longer in my house. + + [_While they speak, the already clouded sky darkens so rapidly + that all start and look out across the populated hills. A + distant peal of thunder is heard, followed by a second, greater + in volume. All press together, then a cry arises:_ "Way, make + way! The sibyl of the vale would speak! She is inspired!" _The + dense crowd parts and all swing backward in confusion. A flash + of lightning breaks the heavy gloom, followed by a muttering of + thunder. A few large raindrops fall. The sibyl enters through + the multitude, a weird, mad form, with tossing hair and wild, + disheveled garments._ + + _Sibyl._ Wail, walls of Rome, and weep, ye tender vales + Of sweet Italia! + + [_A murmur and a swaying. Voices contend for silence._ + + Oh! day of dole! + Oh, day of perfect woe! Oh, Furies' day + Of fever and of tears! Oh, black despair! + The night of tyranny hath settled o'er + Our city, roof-like shuts her from the air + Of Heaven! And the hollow, brazen dome + Of despotism closes o'er our heads; + Black tyranny and red-hot despotism! + Had I hands long enough and nails as sharp + As Hate, I'd tear in shreds the infernal web! + + [_Another peal of thunder resounds. She points toward the heavy + clouds._ + + My tongue is laden with the vast commands + Of Jove, to-day. But Rome is deaf and mad. + The gods cry out upon this tyranny, + The heavens in thunder clap their wrathful hands! + Yet Rome, the Rome of Romulus, the Rome + Of Numa and the martial kings of old, + Is deaf--is deaf and mad! Oh! woe, woe, woe! + + [_With a prolonged, shrill wail of despair she vanishes amid the + crowd. Great agitation now displayed by the majority of + citizens. Enter a runner._ + + _Run._ Ye men of Rome, I bear ill news with me! + + _The Cit._ What is't? Out with it! Dally not at all! + + _Run._ Sicinius, our leader, he is dead! + + [_A murmur of horror._ + + _Cor._ (_starting wildly forward_). Sicinius? Sicinius, the pleb? + Oh! gods of Heaven! Ye have struck me hard! + + [_She sinks insensible upon the ground. Her slaves bend over + her. Tiberius kneels beside her, sobbing bitterly._ + + _The Cit._ How died he? + + _Run._ It is said by some that he, + Being sent by the Decemvirs to select + A spot most suitable whereon to camp, + Fell into ambuscade and died along + With several comrades. + + _The Cit._ Slaughtered by the foe? + + _Run._ So it hath been reported by the few + That did escape. [_He pauses, then proceeds._ + But hearken, citizens! + The bodies lay unspoil'd, with faces turned + All toward one--that one, Sicinius. + The Ten hath hated and hath feared this man! + No more. Construe the meaning as ye list; + I must away. + + [_Exit runner. The four citizens, Horatius, Galba, Marius, and + Hortensius, approach the prone form of Cornelia._ + + _Hor._ A lady of patrician birth! Good slaves, + Can we assist thy mistress, who appears + In such a piteous and hapless plight? + + _Slave_ (_sobbing_). Alas! Alas! I know not what to do, + Or what hath come upon her suddenly. + Ah! see, she stirs! Lady, awake! awake! + + _Cor._ (_opening her eyes, but making no attempt to raise herself_). + Those words he used when last he came to me. + Oh! bitter, bitter fate! Say not awake, + But sleep eternally! Sicinius! + + _Galba._ It doth appear affection did exist + Betwixt Rome's great plebeian and this lady. + + _Tib._ Ay, sir, she loved him e'en as he loved her; + But naught was said because they feared the Ten. + Nay, I was wrong! Sicinius and fear + Are alien the one unto the other! + But rather did he bide his time until + These men should be o'erthrown and Rome be freed + From their most hateful laws and government. + + _One of the multitude._ Hark to the boy! He is a demagogue. + + _Another._ Nay, he is innocent, and therefore bold. + Parroting sentiments that are not his own. + + _A third._ And yet he speaks the truth, the naked truth. + See how this woman hath been sadly wronged, + And how her life is marred by these Decemvirs; + For surely they gave orders for the death + Of him who was a leader and a man! + Have they not feared him for these many months, + Because his tongue is sharper than a sword? + And these two, a patrician and a pleb, + Each representing classes now united + By common misery, are foully hurt, + And scarred by fierce injustice from the Ten. + Vengeance! The time is ripe for vengeance. Rome + Can bear no more. Sicinius is dead! + + [_Murmurs of_ "Sicinius is dead!" + + _Cor._ (_moaning as in pain_). Sicinius is dead! + Sicinius! + + [_Enter Virginia, followed by Camilla. She espies Cornelia and + at once approaches._ + + _Virg._ Kind citizens, let me to her, I pray. + + [_She kneels beside the fainting girl._ + + Oh, tearful sight! Ah me, most sorrowful! + Thou art Cornelia, whom I oft have seen, + Of whom I've heard from thy dear lover's lips. + I knew him well; he waits for thee beyond + The sea, in the broad Islands of the Blest, + Where heroes find a haven and a rest. + + [_She smooths the other's brow in silence for a space, and then + proceeds._ + + Look up, poor broken spirit, and discern + A friendly face and weep upon my heart. + She will not rouse herself! Good people, pray, + Press not upon her. Bring a car, O slave, + The lady is unable to return + On foot. The carriage waits without the place? + 'Tis well. And now to bring her to herself! + Cornelia, waken! But look not so cold. + Thou gentle heart! relieve the strain of grief + With tears of passion. Then come home, come home. + + _Cor._ (_rousing herself_). Tell me, who art thou, O thou noble maid? + + _Virg._ I am Virginia, whom thou knowest not. + + _Cor._ Canst thou not take me from this staring crowd? + Their eyes are knives; the very air is poison. + Oh, God! He is not dead? + + _Virg._ (_assisting her to her feet_). Come home, sweet sister. + + _Tib._ (_sobbing_). Cornelia, my Cornelia! Speak to me! + + _Virg._ Art thou Tiberius, thou tender child? + Weep not; assist me with thy stricken sister. + + [_As the three, the slaves in close attendance, are about to + make their way through the multitude, there comes a sudden + disturbance, and Marcus Claudius springs forward._ + + _Marc._ Ho! stay a bit, my servant; stay with me! + + [_He seizes rude hold on Virginia, who shrieks aloud in terror. + At once the four citizens make their way to her side._ + + Now by the gods! I only take mine own. + + _Virg._ Aid me, in Heaven's name, ye citizens! + Deliver me from shame! Icilius! + Icilius, my love, where art thou now? + + _Marc._ (_in undertone_). Thy struggles, maid, succeed in binding thee + But closer in mine arms. Hast thou a lover? + He hears thee not, and thou art my possession. + Now, still thyself. Gods! Proserpine, thou art + As strong as is Cybele's lioness! + + _Marius._ Foul slave! Loose thou the maid! Oh, insolence! + + _Hor._ Beast! I will kill thee, maim thee like a dog, + Unless thou takest thy hand from off the maid! + + _Marc._ (_panting_). Reserve thy threats and play thou warily, + Justice upholds me! + + _The multitude._ Justice! + + _Marc._ (_coolly_). Shout less loud, + Look not aghast, my masters. I will take + This girl by law--she is my rightful slave. + + _Hor._ 'Tis false! + + _Marc._ Soft, friend, be calm, hold off, I pray! + Hark! she was born a slave within my house, + And thence was stolen and declared to be + The offspring of the man Virginius, + Whose wife had borne an infant at the time, + Which on the moment of its birth had died. + Virginius himself was then away, + And on returning deemed it was his babe, + And deems so to this day. I waited long, + And now have found in this Virginia + My property. A woman hath confessed; + The one who stole her thence and fled away, + Returning but to die within the house + Of Appius, my patron, whom I serve. + + _Cam._ Oh, liar! I first clasped her in mine arms + When she was born! Remove thine impious hand! + In childhood and in girlhood I have watched + Her growth, and guarded her from shame or harm. + + _Multitude._ Ay, ay! She speaks the truth! Loose thou the maid! + She is no slave. We know Virginius. + + _Marc._ Now, I'll have justice, though it cost me e'en + My life, itself. + + _Hor._ Which it is like to, dog! + + [_He strikes him boldly with, clenched fist. The client + staggers, losing his hold on Virginia, who takes refuge with the + three citizens._ + + _Hortensius._ Where is thine evidence? + + _Galba_ (_ironically_). Ay, e'en thy word + Weighs naught with us free citizens of Rome. + + _Marc._ (_hissing between his teeth_). My word _shall_ weigh with you, + ye coward curs! + For lo! My word is--Appius! Ah--so! + + [_The mob shrinks backward at the name, and Marcus laughs in + scorn._ + + (_Vindictively._) I see it hath a little weight with you? + "Free citizens of Rome!" Ye make me laugh. + Oh! ay, I know ye'd mob me joyously, + Stone me, or cast me from Tarpeian Rock, + Save that--save that--ye _dare_ not! Appius + Would leave not one small particle of this, + His client, unavenged. Back, all of you! + The maid is mine! Ye can not say me nay. + + _One of the multitude._ But if we threaten thee, or bear her off, + And save her from thy most illegal movements, + What then? + + _Marc._ What then? To Appius Claudius + For justice I would go! + + [_Murmurs of fear are heard on every side._ + + (_With mocking smile_). Lo! now he comes + Within the Forum. + + [_Even as he speaks the Chief of the Decemvirs enters. He is + seated in a chair which is borne by four slaves._ + + _Appius_ (_frowning sombrely_). What bodes this tumult? + Who, yon lovely girl? + + _Multitude._ Justice! We would see justice, Appius! + + _Appius._ Silence! and let me hear one voice alone. + Marcus, my client, speak, for I would have + An explanation of this strange disturbance. + + _Marc._ Most noble Appius, I owned this girl, + Born in my house full sixteen years ago, + Of my slave-woman. + + _Cam._ (_boldly_). Liar! All men know + Her mother was free-born and wedded to + Virginius, centurion and pleb. + + _Appius._ Gag yonder hag, or drag her hence--I'll have + No withered woman's voice of spite exclaiming. + + _Cam._ Thy lictor shall not lay his hands upon me! + My place is here. My voice shall speak for her, + Nor fear thee, king of tyrants and despoilers! + Long have I inwardly foreseen this day, + And prayed the gods to change the hand of Fate. + It seems my prayers are valueless. But still, + Still there does yet remain to me--my _curse_! + And all shall feel its potency who dare + To lay a finger on Virginia. + + [_She faces Marcus Claudius with her arm extended and her manner + menacing._ + + Thou, fool of fools, who ventured to pollute + The purest virgin breathing in this land, + Because thou placed thy hand upon her flesh, + Which is as perfect as her perfect soul, + I curse thee--ay, and with a heavy curse, + For that which thou hast done! Thy misery + Shall soon exceed even thy trespasses, + Which in themselves are countless as the stars. + Be cursed, and live accursed and die accursed! + And be my witnesses, O, all ye gods! + + [_She turns toward Appius--her attitude becomes calm, and + majestic._ + + And as for thee--I fear thee not. My curse + Shall rest on thee according to thine actions. + This much I have to say--thy tyranny + And rule of blood is waning to its close. + Beware, nor haste thy doom before its time. + + _Marc._ (_trembling_). Seize on her, some of you, for she is mad. + + _One of the multitude._ Nay, she is gifted with strange prophecy. + She voices Jove. + + [_A tumult now arises in the background. Icilius springs forward + with a cry._ + + _Icilius._ Virginia! Turn to me! + + [_He faces Marcus Claudius, and with one blow strikes him down, + then clasps Virginia in his arms._ + + _Virginia_ (_sobbing wildly_). And hast thou come at last? + + _Icilius_ (_tenderly to her_). Courage, dear heart! + + [_To Appius._ + + Now, as a free-born Roman, I demand + An explanation and a satisfaction! + + [_To Marcus, who essays to speak._ + + Silence, thou hound, ere I forget myself + And murder thee! Thine answer, Appius? + + _Appius._ Lictor, part thou the twain. + + _Icilius._ Thou canst not, lictor! + In common manhood and as her betrothed, + Thus do I hold to her against the world. + + _Appius._ Then, lictor, strike! + + _Virginia._ Now, intervene, ye gods! + Icilius, my love! Oh! men of Rome, + Have ye indeed forgot Lucretia? + + [_Swaying of the multitude. Appius Claudius rises in his car._ + + _Appius._ Be prudent, ye who do desire to see + Full justice. We must hark to every plea, + And will to-morrow judge the case. Till then, + Thou, Marcus, guard the maiden, since the man + Virginius is absent from the town. + + [_A hissing protest from the multitude and a cry from Virginia + follows this announcement. Icilius faces the Chief Decemvir with + blazing eyes, and draws Virginia closer._ + + _Icilius._ Over my body only shall yon hound + Of Hell seize on her. I am yet a man + With strength to shield or life to sacrifice + For that which is mine own. Sleep 'neath his roof? + I'd sooner see her cold upon her bier, + Or bound upon the wheel of Ixion, + Enduring tortures of the damned themselves! + With him? I'd rather cast her to a wolf, + Who, merciful, would tear her into shreds + And leave her pure, or o'er Tarpeia's Rock, + And with mine eyes behold her perfect form + Shattered upon the kindly stones below, + Ere Marcus Claudius lay hands on her. + + _Marius._ Ay, he is right; the maiden yet is free. + The charge hath not been proven, Appius! + + _Appius._ So be it. We will acquiesce thus far, + But lictors must be stationed as a guard + About the house wherein she spends the night, + Lest she escape and law be unfulfilled. + + _Cor._ (_coming forward_). I will go thither and attend this night + Upon her. Thou, Tiberius, return + Home with the slaves. To-morrow meet me here. + + _Slave._ Lady, thy lips are white and thou art ill. + See, thou dost tremble. + + _Cor._ Woman, what of that? + How canst thou weigh my pallor with her pain-- + The anguish in her eyes? What though I shake + As with an ague? She herself is turned + To stone with horror deeper than mine own. + A living sorrow doth exceed a dead; + Death to dishonor seemeth merciful. + _Her_ blow is heavy with the weight of dread, + _Mine_ light with hope. Did she not succor me? + How can I fail her in her time of need? + + _Appius._ Lictors, take into custody yon man. + Lest he do mischief. + + _Icilius._ By the almighty gods! + Unhand me! I will kill thee, as a man + Would kill a beast. Ah! foulest trick to seize + Upon me from the rear. Oh, God! Oh, God! + + [_He sinks helpless upon the stones at Virginia's feet, two + lictors binding him firmly with cords. The storm now breaks, + shrieking in maddest fury, the lightning playing over the hills + of Rome._ + + +SCENE II--A CHAMBER IN THE HOME OF VIRGINIUS. + + _Midnight and darkness, save where the moonlight shimmers + through the columns on the left. Virginia is discovered kneeling + in the sea of radiance as though in prayer. A silence follows + the rise of the curtain; then, low at first, but louder, + clearer, gradually increasing in volume, a hymn breaks from her + lips, she kneeling still._ + + HYMN TO DIANA. + + O, thou virgin-goddess fair, + Look upon me in my sorrow; + Hear, oh, hear mine earnest prayer! + Guard me from the fatal morrow! + Purity is in thy breast + With thy silver moonbeams drest. + + Still my cheek is hot with shame, + And my heart in anguish crying; + Let me keep my spotless name, + Waking, sleeping, living, dying! + Chaste Dian, thy stainless glory + Still resounds in song and story. + + Mount thy ear within the blue, + Waft a whisper to me only! + Thou a heart hast, strong and true, + Think upon the maiden lonely. + Without thee it now would seem + Love were nothing but a dream. + + [_Cornelia suddenly appears from out the gloom behind and puts + her arms about Virginia's neck._ + + _Cor._ Love but a dream? Ah, no! The gods forfend! + + _Virginia._ Ah! Thou! [_Turns and embraces her._ + + _Cor._ No other than this broken heart; + Yet is my soul untouched by human woe, + As thine shall be untouched by human sin. + + _Virginia._ I see the face, with passion fiery, + The full voluptuous lips and greedy eyes, + I see and shudder. + + _Cor._ Marcus Claudius? + + _Virginia._ Nay, but the other. + + _Cor._ I am mystified. + + _Virginia._ None saw as I saw! He alone I fear, + Who on the morrow will decide, dear God!-- + For Marcus--yet not Marcus--but himself; + Allot _me_ as his own. (_Wildly._) I saw his look, + And felt his power! Marcus is the paw + Wherewith great Appius will seize his prey. + (_Laughs._) Virginia, his prey! He leered on me, + And in the whitening of his clenched hand + I marked the clash and clangor of his soul. + Dear gods! The feet of Night are leaden shod, + And yet the precious moments speed too fast. + Oh, Death! had I the courage that thou dost + Demand, I'd summon thee. Methinks I hear + E'en now the distant rustle of thy wings. + And yet--thou tarriest--thou tarriest. + + _Cor._ Would Death might choose me out as willing prey! + + _Virginia._ Dear one, thy voice is weary like the world, + Which is so old and heavy with its years; + And yet thine eyes are bright, undimmed by tears. + + _Cor._ Bright with the pain that kills by slow degrees. + Ah! for Apollo's pestilential dart, + Or but to see the shears of Atropos + Flash in Diana's beams. + + _Virginia_ (_softly_). We loved her light, + Thou--thou and I, when love was all in life, + And those, our own, the twain, Icilius + And brave Sicinius--"Ah, God! Ah, God!" + Thus cried he, my beloved, as he sank + Prone at my feet, a tyrant's prisoner. + + [_Breaks from Cornelia's grasp and glides in anguish to the + curtained doorway on the right._ + + Icilius! Icilius! Come to me! + + [_Enter a lictor--she shrinks back terrified._ + + _Lictor._ Lady, I must exhort thee to be prudent; + Such cries will but confine thee e'en more strait + Than thou art now confined. Silence is best. + So ordered Appius, our gracious lord. [_Exit lictor._ + + _Virginia_ (_sobbing softly_). I will be still! But I am so afraid, + I, innocent, know nothing of the world. + Life-bondage? Nay, methinks I am but mad. + Severed from _him_! Ah! lay me in my grave, + Rather than have my heart torn from my breast. + + [_Music is distantly heard._ + + Oh! If to pass in moonbeams from this life + Mid the pure notes of music stealing on + Into my brain and sinking in my breast, + Enveloping my soul; or to the sound + Of rushing wind--that music of the gods + Swept by Apollo's hand, or harking to + The distant murmur of the restless sea, + Striking its pearly harp of mystic sounds, + Echoed within the caves where maidens dwell, + Nereides and Oceanides, + With faces like the sheen of moonbeams, forms + Like the white foam their sire, Neptune, makes + When angered, with his trident! If to sleep, + Sleeping, to dream, and dreaming, live again + The years that now lie white upon their bier. + + [_The moon vanishes behind a cloud._ + + Ah, me! I am so utterly alone! + The moon hath veiled herself, the silence drear + Knocks on my heart, unhidden enters in, + Where once love and sweet innocence, in peace + Dwelt, all unscarred by a despoiler's hand. + It is grown cold! What was that sound I heard? + I am so sunk in solitude, so wrapped + In vacant space, so chilled, I gasp for breath, + Like drowning mariner; but for a hand + Warm, loving, to uplift me from this death + Among the living, life among the dead! + + _Cor._ Virginia! Weep or pray, but do not so! + Alas, Virginia, art thou turned to stone? + + [_Virginia, all unhearing, turns once more toward the columns + where the moon again shines through._ + + _Virginia_ (_singing_). + "In the deep dream-light thy bark thou art guiding, + Shifting thy garments, the clouds, as a sail. + Rocked o'er celestial waves thou art riding, + Hiding thy features behind a light veil. + + Dian, the spell of thy muteness cast o'er me. + Calm the wild tumult which wars in my brain, + E'er through my life may thine image, before me. + Shining and constant as ever remain." + + [_A silence falls. Virginia steals up to Cornelia, who stands + weeping alone._ + + My comfort hath not been denied me--see, + The moonbeams bear the message from the sky. + I hear a song which issues from the stars, + A song of love and hope for a reunion; + Re-born, we, who have loved and lost, shall live + Afar from sin amid the Blessed Isles, + And walk together, soul with soul, and heart + With heart; no drop of passionate blood shall be + Lost in our death, but we shall throb with love, + And laugh amid the light of suns to be. + + [_A pause. Softly a dim gray light steals through the columns; + the moon is sinking slowly. Cornelia turns in sudden terror._ + + Farewell, immortal friend, go to thy rest; + Thy kindly watch is o'er. + + _Cor._ Virginia, see! + Now dawns the cruel day when thou--when thou-- + Ye gods have mercy on us twain this day! + + [_Sobs wildly._ + + _Virginia_ (_pointing to the east_). It steals with + faltering steps and blushing cheeks. + Call it not cruel; it has wept for me. + The dew is heavy. + + (_Voice of lictor without._) See, it is the dawn. + Look, comrades! + + _Virginia_ (_starting as from out a dream_). + Ah, Cornelia! Sure, I sleep. + Is this my father's house? This four-walled cell, + This prison, and am I Virginia? + Could it have been but yesterday I woke + Within this chamber from a happy dream. + I dreamed of _him_, my love, Icilius, + And woke still with his kiss upon my lips. + I can recall the flood of morning light, + A billowed sea of light upon the wall. + I watched the changing pools and shifting waves, + And smiled; the music of the fount without, + In rising cadence, played within mine ears, + And presently the stirring of the maids + And hum of spinning reached me and I rose, + Glad, with the day. And now--Cornelia, touch + My cheek lest I be vanishing to air; + Feel if my heart yet beats. Methinks I'm dead; + Even this moment but a roving ghost. + + _Cor._ Courage, Virginia. Why, much hope is left! + To-day thy father will return, and he + Would place his soul in jeopardy for thee. + + _Virginia._ Courage, ay, courage! I am brave again. + It is the dawn. Cornelia, we will seek + The outer court and wash our tears away + In the cool fountain. Once again my cheek + Is hot with spirit and my heart beats swift + With hope and newborn trust in those I love. + + [_Exeunt the two, their arms wound round each other and + Cornelia's lips pressed to Virginia's cheek._ + + +SCENE III--THE FORUM. + + _A multitude has gathered. Appius is in the judgment seat, with + Marcus Claudius stationed beside him. Many women are weeping and + the men appear silent and angry. Appius is surrounded by a guard + of lictors. Cornelia and Tiberius are seated on the left in a + car drawn by slaves. Near the center are gathered Galba, + Hortensius, Horatius, and Marius._ + + _Marius._ This vast suspense weighs on me heavily; + I would not see that gentle maiden wronged + For all my world possessions! E'en the gods + Would shriek with horror if yon slave of Dis, + Young Marcus Claudius, should seize on her. + Why doth she not appear? + + _Hort._ She and her father, + Who hath returned, hot-foot, from camp to her, + Tarry about the town, and every man + They meet they do address with exhortations + And prayers for justice and for witnesses, + That this gross tale which men do know is false + Shall be so proven. Yet all Rome is prone + Beneath the foot of Appius and his nine + Vile colleagues. Fear is most tyrannical, + Justice is dying, Mercy now is dead. + + _Marius._ Then God alone can help the wretched maid! + + _Hor._ (_hotly_). Nay, shall she be defiled and made a slave? + Not while my hands are free, my body quick + With lifeblood, and my heart a man's. Why she + Is pure and frail as is the mountain snow. + Happy the man who stands her champion. + Happy Icilius, our young tribune! + + [_Enter Virginius in mean, plebeian garments and Virginia simply + clothed in white, her dark hair loose. A murmur of sympathy and + admiration greet their appearance, quickly suppressed. Enter + from the other side Icilius, vainly struggling in the hands of + armored soldiers. His hair is wild and greatly disheveled, his + features white and drawn with agony._ + + _Icilius._ Virginia! Ah, my God! Virginia! + + _Virginia._ My Love! My Love! My Love! + + [_He stretches out his bound arms toward her, and in a moment + with a cry she runs to him, regardless of the gazing world, and + kneeling at his feet kisses with fervor the hands in bondage for + her sake. Murmurs from the multitude._ + + _Appius_ (_rising to his feet, his face aflame_). Back, girl! Back + from him! Lictor, part the twain! + + [_Lictor unwillingly obeys, whereat Virginia rising slips away + from him to her father's side. Virginius advances, with his hand + uplifted, toward the judgment seat._ + + _Virginius._ Delay no longer in the trial of + This matter. We demand in common justice + A hearing, and at once, O, Appius! + + _Galba_ (_aside to his friends_). Mark yonder man upon the + judgment-seat. + Methinks 'tis he who coveteth the virgin, + And Marcus but his instrument. Ah, see! + The Chief is moved to acquiesce. Methinks + He fears this pleb as he once feared Sicinius. + + _Appius_ (_haughtily_). And now begins the judgment. Silence, all! + My client, Marcus Claudius, step forth. + + [_The man obeys. Virginia, shuddering, looks only at her + father._ + + _Appius._ Repeat thy statement, Claudius, we wait. + + _Marc._ O, noble Chief, and all ye men of Rome, + I but reiterate my words to-day + Spoken in explanation of my course + Of action yesternoon. A woman came + Unto the house of Appius, one moon + Ago, and came to perish on our hands. + But ere she died she made a full confession + Of having served in early years the wife + Of this our citizen, Virginius, + Who ignorantly hath been foully wronged, + For whom we feel the deepest sympathy, + And unto whom I now address myself. + + [_Turns to Virginius._ + + O, good centurion, this maid is not + Thy child in blood; but, as I said, was born + Of a slave woman in my house. Thy babe + Died on the moment of its birth. Thou wert + Away in service. Dost thou not recall? + + _Virginius_ (_in calm affirmative_). Yea, that I do recall. + (_Aside._) Thou fiend of hell! + + _Marc._ (_triumphantly_). Has he not said? This slave, who did confess + To us the truth, declared that she had played + The thief and crept most slyly to my house, + Stolen the infant of my nurse and slipped + Out, 'mid the night and gloom, which, friendly, hid + Her dastard deed. Virginia is the babe, + And, therefore, lawfully belongs to me. + + _Icilius._ Ye gods! + + _Multitude._ No proofs? No evidence? + + _Marc._ (_proudly_). My word! + + [_Much laughter and some hissing._ + + _Appius._ Silence! Virginius, speak, and be as brief + As the occasion will allow. Proceed. + + _Virginius._ Ye men of Rome! To you, and you alone, + I speak in my defense, for lo! in you + I see the qualities of common justice, + Or faintest sense of mercy, which is rare-- + And less, indeed, unto the point in hand. + For all these forty years I've lived in Rome, + A Roman 'mongst the Romans, brave amongst + The brave, and serving, ere I came of age, + My mother city. Have I shown myself + In any manner base, corruptible, + Or lying, either by my word or deed? + Ye all are witnesses of me--each man + Can see and know the truth as God can see. + This is my babe, of me begotten, born + Of her whom I so loved--her mother. Lo! + The very luster of her ebon hair + Bespeaks the woman who in honor bore + Virginia. See! The tremble of her lip. + I do not willingly display my flesh + And blood to gaze of multitudes, but that + My straits are desperate. Look upon her hand-- + The long, brown fingers are a copy true + Of these, though mine are knotted by the grip + Of sword and the guiding of the plow. + And now her eyes--Ah, no! I say too much. + Ye gods of Heaven speak for me this day! + + [_He bows his head upon Virginia's shoulder._ + + _Appius._ He faints with sudden revelation from + The gods of what is manifestly true. + Virginius, thou art deluded, or + A man, of old, deceptive. + + _Virginia._ 'Tis a lie! + He is Virginius, no more, no less! + And 'tis enough, as Rome can witness to. + Thou art not worthy to crawl on the ground + And kiss the hand which hath these many years + Battled for Rome! Thou canst but harm our flesh. + His name and mine are unstained as the flame + On Vesta's altar. + + [_Turns to where Icilius is struggling vainly in the hands of + the guard._ + + Peace, Icilius! + Of what avail is aught to such as these? + Small hope is left--and yet, O, Appius, + Wert thou not born of woman? For the one + Who gave thee life, respect her sisters now. + Let mercy dawn within thy hardened breast, + Speak but one word--one word--and many lives + Will leap and live again. Look down upon + And honor this grey head, now bowed so low; + The only stay and comfort in his age + Wouldst tear from him? His years in solitude + Will roll away, a never-ending tide. + Ye Romans, look upon your citizens, + Protect your women--lest indignant Jove + Lightnings shall send upon you, or the shield + Of Mars be taken from its sanctuary. + + [_Icilius at this moment breaks from the grasp of the soldiers + and leaps to Virginia's side. The girl lifts his bound hands and + places them against her breast, raising her eyes to his._ + + Icilius! I heard a ringing laugh, + And saw, as in a vision, a young child-- + Our flesh and blood--our souls' inheritor. + I saw adorning me, in the strange dream, + A wedding garland fresh, not clanging chains. + O, if to die within thine arms! But stay! + My father--see the workings of his face! + He suffers. Father, we shall meet again + In the Elysian fields, when I am free! + + _Appius._ Fools! Cease your maudlin tragedy! Disperse! + Come forward, slave, the judgment hath been passed. + + _Cor._ (_starting_). The judgment, and so soon! + + _Tiberius_ (_leaping from the car_). It is not so! + Virginia, stay awhile! + + _Icilius_ (_aside_). Unbind my hands, Virginia! + + _Virginia._ The knot is hard and I am dazed. I tremble. + Love, wilt thou sacrifice thy life for me? + + _Icilius._ Ah! some one loose me of these cursed bonds! + + [_He is seized by the soldiers and again forced from the young + girl's side. Cornelia steps from her car, and coming forward + kneels at the feet of Appius._ + + _Cor._ Lord Appius, behold a broken heart, + But one with gentle blood from noble veins + Forever fed. Though proud, I kneel to thee. + O, loose her bonds--restore her liberty-- + And I my wealth, my house, and e'en my life + Shall give to thee or this thy servant here. + Deep down into the dust I do incline + Myself, who am a lady of the best + And noblest line in Rome. I offer thee + My services, if thou wilt free the maid + Who did befriend me in mine hour of need. + + _Virginia._ Cornelia! To me! Nay, it shall not be! + Thou friend of friends, such sacrifice is vain. + One kiss alone I ask of thee--one kiss-- + Then silence! See, Tiberius weeps for thee. + + [_Tiberius springs with a cry into Cornelia's arms. The two draw + off together. The four citizens come forward._ + + _Galba._ O, Appius, we offer thee our lives + To do with as thou wilt--but loose the maid! + + _Appius._Petitioners, ye gods, from every side? + It shall not be, for she is Marcus' slave. + The judgment has been passed, and I have spoken! + + [_A murmuring._ + + Make way! The master comes to take his slave! + + [_Confusion. Appius rises, his face ablaze with passion._ + + Make way, ye fools! I'll call my colleagues here + With all their lictors. There will be bloodshed! + Make way! + + _Icilius._ Ah! but to have my hands about + His throat, though for a moment, for a breath; + Though for a heart-beat and, beyond me, Hell! + + _Virginia_ (_in a voice of agony_). Father! My father! + + _Virginius._ Quiet, little girl! + O, Appius, the final shred of hope, + The weakened flame, is gone--forever gone. + Before we part, indeed, one moment grant + To us aside, that I may speak with her. + + _Appius._ Haste, then, old pleb! Nor tarry long for tears. + + _Virginius._ Tears? What are they? My heart is dead and barren, + My soul athirst for death. Tears mean no more + To me than rain upon a broken stone. + + [_He leads the girl aside. All watch in breathless silence._ + + _Virginia._ O, Heavenly Powers above, deliver me, + By whirlwind or by sword, from this dread place! + Father, farewell! [_Presses his hand to her lips._ + + _Virginius._ Ah! Touch it not! + + [_Snatches a knife from a butcher._ + + Thus only can I make thee free, my daughter! + + [_He plunges it into her bosom and she falls back into the arms + of Icilius, who has freed himself and leaps to her side with a + cry. Tumult and swaying of the crowd._ + + (_Brandishing knife._) With this blood, Appius! thy life and thee + Devote I to perdition! + + [_Makes his way with the knife through the multitude. Icilius + lays her body down, murmuring,_ "Virginia, by thy blood shall + Rome be free!" [_Exit._ + + [_Camilla kneels as though stunned beside the prostrate body._ + + _Tiberius._ Ah me! Ah me! Virginia! + + [_Sinks beside her._ + + +(_Curtain._) + + _It rises again to show the collected army, with Virginius and + Icilius at the head. Appius is about to leave the seat, his + cloak around his head. Several lictors have fallen to the + ground. Camilla still kneels beside the body, gazing vacantly + before her. Virginia's dark hair falls like a shroud around + her._ + + +(_Curtain._) + + + + +POEMS + + + + +STEWARDSHIP. + + + What can I do for Thee, Almighty God, + Whose breath can wake, whose voice can calm, the sea? + Should I endeavor, with this striving brain, + Which, in its striving, errs, and, erring, turns, + And, fearful, flies from its appointed field-- + With these weak hands, that blindly grope along + The road of Truth to higher things, uplift + Those fallen by the way, whom Thou didst name + My brothers? I, to the sad, ancient world, + Speak, in unfaltering accents, of my soul's + Instinctive yearnings, loftiest ideals, + And holiest hopes of the fair destiny + Of all my fellow-souls, who tread the way? + When One has left a message, sweet, divine, + Eternal, for the fainting world to read, + Should I arise and cry, an echo faint, + Of His all-satisfying tones of Love, + And lisp my dreams of Truth? I am afraid! + Yet, trembling, still I dare not to be mute. + Remembering His vast Love, I can not choose + But humbly say the lessons I have learned. + Teach me, O God, to feel Thy silences, + And hear Thy voice aright, in wind and wave; + Teach me the upward look of Faith and Hope, + Which lifts, nor ever drags the spirit down; + Teach me the tender touch and the warm smile + Of a deep, all-embracing heart, whose light + Is the sweet essence of true Charity! + + + + +THE SEA GULL. + + + Strong-winged soul of the lifting sea, + Bird of the gale, + Launch thyself from the crags, and fly + Over the crested waves, nor sigh + For the sheltered home, but gladly hail + The sea and the open sky! + + High, low, high, low, + Over the foam, + Gliding level with the mast, + Darting close above the vast + Roll of billows--then come home, + And hide thee from the blast. + + Once again, thy pinions free + Spread to the speaking breeze! + Forward, like a mermaid light, + Onward, like to a soul as white + As the curling foam of the singing seas, + Nor shrink from the coming night. + + Rolling fog and fading light, + Spread and sail! + Fold thy pinions, breast the deep, + In the darkness, Spirit, sleep, + Soul of the gale! + + + + +MT. VERNON. + + + Home of the Dead! One glance of lingering love + We cast behind us, where our vessel's wake + Winds, foaming, backward to Virginian hills. + Home of the Dead! Retreating from thy shores + We breathe a final sigh, a last farewell. + The pillared mansion gleams amid the green, + The sombre tomb, deserted, stands alone; + While, over all, a thousand beacons burn. + The West displays a canopy of sky, + Woven by angels, flung across the hills, + Where sleeps the silent dust of Washington. + + Bleak is the wind that leaps like blade unsheathed + From out the silver scabbard of the East! + At hide and seek, among the ruffled waves, + The eerie shadows play in elvish glee. + A thief, Night steals the golden glories bright + Of Day. But still a flush of silken rose + Colors the West, stains the broad river's breast, + And casts a garland 'cross the Eastern sky. + + Behold, on either shore, reflected green, + Dim in the dying lustre of the sun, + While tips of rose, like diadems, adorn + And wreathe the gracious brows of drowsy hills. + Behold and marvel! See and comprehend! + Amid this beauty lies the sacred dust + Of one who was a hero and a man, + While all the hills that sleep about his tomb + Shine with the glory of God's holy light. + + + + +MY MOTHER. + + + Has she faded from my skies forevermore, + Like a star that slides adown the arch of Night, + Or the sunlight, swiftly paling on the shore + Of my boundless sea of hopes, that glittered bright + In the lustre of her smile? Is she gone forevermore? + Or has she but departed for a while? + + Shall I never feel her hand upon my brow? + Shall I never meet her lips in kisses sweet? + Or is it that I am denied her now, + And some day shall hear the music of her feet, + And, like Proserpine, will come, with the happy winds that blow, + Leap the years, and find, in her, my final home? + + + + +THE CRADLE SONG. + + + Adown the vista of the years, + I turn and look with silent soul, + As though to catch a muted strain + Of melody, that seems to roll + In tender cadence to my ear. + But, as I wait with eyes that long + The singer to behold--it fades, + And silence ends the Cradle Song. + + But when the shadows of the years + Have lengthened slowly to the West, + And once again I lay me down + To sleep, upon my mother's breast, + Then well I know I ne'er again + Shall cry to God, "How long? How long?" + For, to my soul, her voice will sing + A never-ending Cradle Song. + + + + +OUT OF THE DARK. + + + Out of the Dark that shrouded Thee, my Lord, + Upon that day of Passion and of Pain, + There rose a cry from Thee which rent the sky, + Piercing the shadows of the noontide gloom + In vibrant tones that rang with agony + Supreme, and, with the strength of holy grief, + Divine despair, rolled upward on the wings + Of Mystery unto the eternal Throne-- + "Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!" + + Out of the dark that lies about my soul, + Upon this day of sorrow and of pain, + I lift mine eyes and gaze with prayerful heart + Upon the tortured image of my Lord, + Then lo! the sombre shadows melt away, + And round my spirit glows a wonderous light, + By thine own Cross and Passion, blessed Lord, + And by that mystic moment of despair, + Thy world shall never know Thine awful Woe, + Nor cry to God in agony supreme-- + "Eli! Eli! Lama Sabacthani!" + + + + +NIOBE. + +(Dedicated to the statue of Niobe, in the Uffizi Palace, Florence, +Italy.) + + + Oh! form of perfect woe, in grief unending! + Soul-anguish, mortal pangs, in marble moulded! + Oh, sobs! by us unheard, that bosom rending! + Oh, tender form! within those arms enfolded! + + With heart undaunted, has the Mother striven + Against Death's vengeance, e'en within its portal; + And when her soul with horror most is riven, + Woman, she dares to face the wrath immortal. + + So, through the ages, see those forms united + In an eternal clasp. Ah, woe transcendent! + Upon that face, its beauty all unblighted, + We read the Mother-love, supreme, resplendent! + + + + +TO THE GENIUS OF DEATH, BY CANOVA. + + + Genius of Death! Thou form as white and slim + As moonbeams, falling through the awful dome + Above thee when the deathlike night draws down; + Speak, through those sweet, still lips, whose solemn curve + Alone gives token of thine ancient, dread + Supremacy! Say that thou art not Death, + But holy Calm or silent hushed Repose. + Still are thy stern lips dumb, no hopeful breath + Exhaling! Then, from them, do I appeal + To something more divine. O'er that calm brow + And carven face, uplifted from the tomb + In speechless faith, there shines a wondrous light + That mocks the awful declaration there. + Genius of Death thou canst not be, for lo! + Thou art the Soul of Immortality! + + + + +TO THE WINGED VICTORY OF SAMOTHRACE. + + + "Winged Victory?" Unworthy is that name, + Thou marble miracle of endless Time! + I see thee standing yonder in the light, + Upon thy rude and lonely pedestal, + A shape as strange as it is beautiful. + To me, thou art a winged mystery, + For where, in all the ages of the past, + Years of the present, centuries to come, + Can there be found creation like to thee, + Conceived by God or Man? A miracle; + Marble in motion--yet divinely still, + As though it paused to hear its own low breath-- + Yet breathes not; pacing on its lonely height-- + Yet stirs not; heavenly wings outspread, with chaste + Angelic curve--yet not in flight extended. + Thou art not of the living nor the dead. + Thy wings do breathe of immortality, + Of Heavenly Presence, yet thy headless form, + In all its marred and mutilated grace, + Points to the clay. How can we solve thee, then? + Enigma so profound was never known + Among the many countless works of Man. + Thou art incarnate Mystery itself, + Brooding above the world; the Universe + Lies in the shadow of thine outspread wings-- + Thou silent Spirit of the Infinite! + + + + +BEATRICE TRIUMPHANT. + +(To Beatrice Cenci, as she is depicted in Guido Reni's painting of St. +Michael and the Dragon.) + + + Gold hair, blown back from radiant brow, + Crowning, like light, a maiden, martyred head, + Feet planted on the "Dragon," prone, + And mighty wings in victory outspread. + In thee what change, divinely wrought! + What wondrous resurrection from the dead! + + He lies, beneath thy righteous feet, + Who, cruel craven, caused thee to be slain; + He writhes who let thee agonize, + A captive and in undeserved pain, + And crawls, in sight of all the world, + Forever rendered loathsome by that stain! + + And thou, bright dream of brooding light, + With woman's face and angel's stature, thou + Exquisite seraph, fresh from God, + Tell me, why wakes no awful vengeance now + On thy grave lips? Oh! Woman, wronged, + Unfold the mystery of that calm brow! + + + +THE CALL OF THE IRISH SEA. + + + Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea, + That spreads so free, gray Irish Sea-- + Your freedom mocks the shores you beat + With the booming tread of your angry feet; + The Celtic heart no longer sings + To the rhythmic rush of Freedom's wings! + Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea, + Chant Freedom's dirge, wild Irish Sea! + + Gray Irish Sea, wild Irish Sea, + You call to me, gray Irish Sea, + I hear the harp-strings of the North, + And stirring bagpipes thrilling forth; + I dream the dreams of olden days, + I hear bold Ossian chant his lays! + Wild Irish Sea, gray Irish Sea, + You call to me, wild Irish Sea! + + + + +THE LION OF LUCERNE. + + + Hid in a hushed retreat, a lovely dell, + Where Mother Nature sings low lullabies, + And weaves her silence like a sacred spell, + Beneath the light of deep and tender skies, + In his lone agony the Lion lies. + + Colossal creature of a sculptor's brain, + Are you the marble that you seem to be? + Inanimate, untouched by mortal pain? + Within that form, and yearning to be free, + Your soul must wrestle with Death's mystery! + + There is a height Self-sacrifice may climb, + Nearer the throne of God than any star, + A height above the wasting tide of Time, + Beyond the din of Earth's discordant jar-- + A height that untried souls scarce see afar. + + On that great height the Lion of Lucerne, + With face half-human, with majestic brow, + Lies stretched. Oh, Love! that will forever burn + On Pain's dread altar, you alone can know + The glory and the recompense for Woe! + + + + +SONNET TO NIAGARA FALLS. + + + As on the brink of that which men call Death, + Standing 'twixt Time and dread Eternity, + We pause to gaze with fear-suspended breath + On that abyss, whose depths we can not see, + So now, I stand, above thy thundering fall, + Thou Miracle, of marvels most supreme, + Who summons all the world, with trumpet call, + To adore the heavenly genius of thy stream! + In 'wildering confusion, mad disdain + Of earthly trammels, earthly tyrannies, + Shrieking, like legions of damned souls in pain, + Roaring rebellion 'neath the silent skies, + Fearful as Death, still thou dost seem to cry, + "I am the symbol of Eternity!" + + + + +THE LOST HEART. + +(A Rondeau.) + + + Where is my heart? Ah! Love, I dare not say, + I only know that it is hid away, + Somehow,--somewhere,--and somewhat restless there. + But safely hid away,--poor heart, somewhere. + + I strive to call it back to me, but nay,-- + That willful heart refuses to obey. + And do you ask, thus, in your sad, sweet way-- + You, Love, who know so well its secret lair, + Where is my heart? + + Alone, I wait and wonder, day by day, + At the poor, pulsing heart, that went astray, + Once, in the mazes of a woman's hair. + Could it forsake a labyrinth so fair? + No need for you to ask, for me to say-- + Where is my heart? + + + + +IS HE NOT MINE? + + + Is he not, mine? Although he drift from me + Into the Ocean of the Far Away, + Across the tideless and the awful sea + Of Time, while I alone must mutely stay + Within the doorway of a darkened Day; + Although he shake the dust from his light feet, + Dust of my warm Heart's Garden, yet I hold, + My Love forever, radiant, complete. + He breathes upon me when spring buds unfold, + He smiles upon me from the roses' gold; + I hear him in the tender melody + Of mating bird; his laugh rings, glad and free, + In every breeze; like stars his dear eyes shine; + His spirit is a presence, half-divine, + Which clasps, enfolds my being like a sea! + Is he not mine? + + +TWO GIFTS. + + + She laughingly gave me a rose, one day, + And the thorns were sharp,--but the rose was red, + And fragrant and warm from the sun's bright ray, + So I clasped the rose, though my fingers bled,-- + And it fluttered in petals away. + + She mockingly offered her heart, one day, + And I clasped what she gave, though my own heart bled, + I gazed in her eyes, and her soft hair lay + On my lips, and I laughed,--though the heart was dead, + And crumbled to dust away! + + + + +THE MOONFLOWER. + + + Earth star of the evening, full moon of the twilight, + Pale soul of the dusk, like a virgin in white, + With slow graceful motion, so stealthy, so silent, + She opens her heart to the kisses of night. + + Chaste blossom, ah! thus, when my own Love approaches, + And bends o'er my spirit with fervor divine, + Thus would I lay bare, in unbounded devotion, + A heart pure and tender and fragrant as thine! + + + + +THREE KISSES. + + + A rampant wind, on a golden day, + Sported and played with a wild, wild rose, + He woke her soul from its mute repose, + He kissed the heart of the wild, wild rose, + And, kissing,--kissed her leaves away,-- + And now the wind goes sighing. + + Love won me, on a golden day, + He woke my soul, with a kiss sublime, + And the whole world vanished, and Death and Time + Seemed nought at the touch of that kiss sublime! + Love, kissing,--kissed my heart away, + And now Love goes rejoicing. + + An Angel came, on pinions gray, + In his cold, white arms he clasped my Love! + Earth reeled, the sun went out above. + Oh! God! I saw Death kiss my Love, + And, kissing,--kiss his soul away-- + And now my soul goes wailing! + + + + +A SONG OF THE WEST. + + + Into the glowing West! + And lo! the vast and sunburnt plains unfold, + An endless, rippling, tideless sea of gold, + Our own dear Mother's breast; + The gaunt, the silent earth, + The bare, brown land without a single tree + Or blossom as a home for bird or bee, + It lies, endures the dearth, + And smiles in spite of thirst + And parched and craving lips. This is the best, + The better land, my own, my noble West. + + Into the West! + Green, verdant with the strength of endless light, + Immortal sunlight, radiant and bright! + Where man may work, may rest: + This is my paradise, + A land of flowers and of singing seas, + Of hoary mountain tops and giant trees, + Beneath vast arching skies, + Skies that are eloquent + With sympathy and soft, and deep and true, + Gray only when we weary of the blue, + Cloudless and all content. + + Into the West! + That mother of great men who sing her praise, + Who marvel o'er her miracles and ways, + As free and unsuppressed + As ocean's roll. + Say, O, ye creatures of the further sea, + What know ye of her grace and melody, + The grandeur of her soul? + + + + +TO ESTHER. + + + As Night, before the dawn, + In starry splendor, seems to brood + Above the world, which waits the morn, + Yet worships Night in melancholy mood, + As Night, in whom a solemn passion lies, + So brood and beam my Esther's midnight eyes. + + As sunlight on a rose + In flashing radiance seems to glow, + Warming the tender heart within, + To life and love; as early beams bestow + Upon that rose a soul which can beguile + A hundred hearts, so beams my Esther's smile. + + As love-birds, in the Spring, + Sing on the sylvan boughs at noon, + And mating-calls in echoes ring, + Or oft at night they whisper to the moon; + As stream responds to stream with tender art, + So, to mine own, replieth Esther's heart. + + As sea to distant sea, + In grand response to Passion's cry, + Declares its own vast mystery, + And answers wild entreaties with a sigh; + As waves to waves melodiously roll, + So sings to me forever--Esther's soul. + + + + +THE THRUSH. + + + It was the Thrush,--it was the joyous Thrush, + Who, with his beauteous voice, the woods addressed! + He sank from heavens unseen, and in the hush + Of floating fragrance and soft-slumbering flowers, + Dozing beneath the spell of sun-bright hours, + His summer shower of song the glade's deep heart caressed. + + Bright, speckle-breasted, angel-throated bird! + He tilted on the hedge, and piped and wooed; + Now here a note, now there, so low 'twas heard, + Ofttimes, by one deep listening ear, one only, + The ear of Silence; he, her minstrel lonely. + Was it for her divine mute blessing that he sued? + + How often I have watched him in the grass, + Familiar, small, erect, and bravely dressed + In spotted golden-brown; have seen him pass + Alertly to and fro, all blithely springing, + With elfin bounds; no longer wildly winging; + Content with Mother Earth, as though he loved her breast. + + Earth born, sky destined, living harp of song, + Beloved Thrush, pour forth your notes divine! + Whether to earth or heaven you most belong, + What the vast purpose of your melody, + Your mystic glory, your bright ecstasy, + I know not,--only this, your soul is sweet to mine. + + + + +THE LIGHT OF THE STAR. + + + Dank were the grewsome alleys of the town, + Dingy the houses of the dreary street; + The very dogs reflected degradation, + Gaunt, wolfish; while God's flowers of creation, + Young children, lacking all that makes life sweet, + Through the foul-smelling night ran up and down. + + Under a dull street light I watched them play, + Shrilling in high-pitched and unchildlike tones, + Daring the perils of the tainted city. + Then, in my heart, the horror and the pity + For human kind that in such blackness groans + Rose, and I could not drive the pall away. + + Amid such concrete evils, inbred sin, + I, groping, questioned, could Christ's kingdom come, + By any means? How could he ever enter + At wealthy portals strong, where self is center, + Or at the darkened doors of spirits dumb, + Dulled by the ancient slums' unceasing din? + + But, glancing upward, in my deep distress-- + Myself so small an atom of my race-- + I saw, above the dreadful hovels shining, + A single star. It seemed, my pain divining, + To answer from illimitable space, + And with its rays to sanctify and bless. + + Witness it bore of Law by which worlds move, + Light of the Soul, the Everlasting Mind, + Which--in its compass Earth and Heaven holding-- + Is ever like some shining scroll unfolding, + And will unfold with Time, till all mankind + Shall read Life's one solution, perfect Love. + + + + +THE MESSAGE OF THE PINES. + + + Tall Southern pines, with hearts of mystic throbbing, + Stretch your restless, weary boughs across the sunset sky, + Dark Southern pines, whose souls are ever sobbing, + I would roam through these dim aisles and learn the music of your + sigh. + Hark! the wail of hearts that can not weep! + Hush! the sigh of souls that long to sleep! + + Tall Southern pines, I seek these silent places + Only in my memory--a memory beside me moves. + Dark Southern pines, I love your solemn spaces, + And there in spirit walk, and with her spirit seek the quiet groves. + Hark! the moan of human hearts that yearn! + Hush! the plaint of dreams that would return! + + Tall Southern pines, I wrong you in my sorrow. + Harps divine, you chant a dream not passed, but yet to come! + Our two souls shall walk together, on some perfect morrow, + And through the years remain together, when your voices all are + dumb. + Hark! her spirit whispers in the grove! + Hush! I feel the presence of my Love! + + + + +THE LOST SUNBEAM. + + + Through fairy green of willows old, + Aslant the stately, virgin, cold + Form of the sycamore, + Where poplars laugh, where beeches pray, + Where breezes sigh, where streamlets sing, + And birds are ever caroling, + One morn, I saw a sunbeam stray; + This single, holy, radiant ray + On the wide earth had lost its way, + Escaped through Heaven's half-open door. + + "Where will the sunbeam find its home?" + I idly wondered. "Will it roam + Until it makes its nest + Perhaps in some dear baby's hair?" + But no! a baby's tresses shine + With their own radiance divine-- + The sun of Heaven is always there. + Or would it find a secret lair + In flowery heart? Nay, in that rare, + Deep cell, God's sun long found its rest. + + So the lone sunbeam strays at will, + And longs for Heaven and rest, until + Into the silent grove, + An old man, crippled by disease, + Creeps down the path, with weary eyes. + That are too worn to seek the skies, + With palsied limbs and shaking knees, + And fixed, dull stare, that only sees + The stony ground. Oh! stately trees! + Shade this drear form with arms of love! + + As he pursues his lonely way + Through the green wood, the shining ray + Straightway appears to dart + To that bent form, and seems to light + A glory in the thin white hair; + Then, restless still, it makes its lair + In the sad eyes, so dim of sight, + And, smiling through the sombre night, + It deeper sinks, a radiance bright, + And nestles in the old man's heart. + + + + +HERITAGE. + +(To my Mother.) + + + Everything beautiful centered in you! + All that is fair, in your spirit, my Sweet, + From the depths of the sea to the height of the blue, + Lies now at my feet. + + They are gems, they are gems you have scattered so free, + From your zenith of thought they have fallen like rain, + From the height of your love they descended to me, + In the midst of my pain! + + Thoughts like the ocean and dreams like the morn, + Pure and unsullied, most holy and true; + Dear Love, in my being there shines a new dawn, + Whose light is from you! + + + + +Transcriber's Notes: + + + Passages in italics are indicated by _italics_. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Virginia, A Tragedy, by Marion Forster Gilmore + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA, A TRAGEDY *** + +***** This file should be named 36214.txt or 36214.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/2/1/36214/ + +Produced by David Garcia, David E. 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