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diff --git a/36214.txt b/36214.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5dfc3c --- /dev/null +++ b/36214.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: 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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