[]

CONSPIRACY, A TRAGEDY.

BY R. JEPHSON, ESQ.

DUBLIN: PRINTED BY GRAISBERRY & CAMPBELL, FOR JOHN ARCHER, No. 80, DAME-STREET.

1796.

PROLOGUE.

[]
THIS night with dread unuſual we appear,
(For this has been a very damning year)
Eſtabliſh'd fame perhaps in vain we bring,
Since rigid juſtice is an awful thing,
Awful and hateful, human but in part,
All frown, an outſide man, without a heart.
Such you may ſee in every ſtreet you paſs,
Juſt as like men, in plaiſter, ſtone, or braſs.
Our early Prologues in leſs cautious times,
Rail'd at the audience in permitted rhymes,
Faults there might be, they own'd, but then wou'd ſwear,
Of faults or beauties, you no judges were.
As peers, by brother peers alone are tried,
Poets alone, on poets ſhou'd decide.
With ſurly Ben this dogma firſt began,
So in ſucceſſion to pert Colley ran.
John Dryden, with a crab ſtick of harſh wit,
Rejoiced to drub the Hydra of the pit.
Tho' little then was right, and much amiſs,
Not one of all the venom'd tongues durſt hiſs.
[]On the tamed ſpirit of the cudgel'd town,
Almanzor and mad Maximin went down.
Now, by inverſion ten times more polite,
The poet's always wrong, the critic right.
Nay, ſome have found a more enlighten'd way,
And boldly cenſure who ne'er ſaw the play.
This mayn't perhaps be juſtice to the letter,
To ſee is well, but inſpiration's better.
Of old, the vehicles of wit were ſcarce,
Men judged upon the ſpot of play or farce.
By no concocted ſpite the piece was torn,
The ſhort lived Virus died where it was born.
No daily column then was gladly ſeen,
By envy raiſed, and ſcribled o'er by ſpleen.
And ſure if pleas'd or griev'd, we little gain,
By reaſoning back the pleaſure or the pain.
Still ſafely we may truſt the feeling part,
But never ſet the head againſt the heart.
For various cauſes you frequent the ſcene,
Some to diſpel, but more to indulge the ſpleen.
Some fly a dun, and ſome a railing wiſe,
And loſe the real, in fictitious life.
A paſſive miſtreſs many here purſue,
But moſt we ſee have nothing elſe to do.
Others prefer, the days dull buſineſs done,
To yawn in company than quite alone.
[]Good harmleſs ſouls! may no rude ſounds moleſt 'em
Nor paſſions, feign'd or real e'er infeſt 'em!
In times not long gone by, a noble peer,
(Unlike the ſprightly race who now trip here)
Four previous footmen his high ſtate expreſs,
And gorgeous as a ſatrap was his dreſs.
No houſehold fowl on maple perch repos'd,
As innocent of thought, more ſweetly dozed.
Warm in his muff, with periwig for cap,
Here he indulged one diſcontinuous nap.
Yates, Woodward, Cibber, Garrick charm'd in vain,
Kind Morpheus held him in his ſofter chain.
Juſt as the curtain drop'd, he heard it ſaid,
A well known ſlentor of the ſtage was dead.
"I'm glad on't (cries my lord) and why do you think?
"He roar'd ſo loud, I cou'd not ſleep one wink."
This night at times may kinder ſlumbers ſeize you,
Sleep when we're dull, and wake when we can pleaſe you.

PROLOGUE.

[]
THO' he pretends no commerce with the ſkies,
A perfect ſtranger to deep myſteries,
Nor is aſtrologer enough to make
Predictions for a new year's Almanack,
Yet for his play, the poet ſees with ſorrow,
And now foretells, what all may ſee to-morrow.
Tho' here, where genuine ſenſe with candour reigns
Fair approbation crown his tragic ſtrains,
(For oft this favour'd muſe has been before you,
Always to thank, but never to implore you)
A hundred ſterner critics ſtill remain,
To damn his labours, and your taſte arraign.
In poſts, gazettes, and chronicles they rage,
And failing to adorn, affright the ſtage.
Turn to the uſual column, there you'll ſee,
What thoſe ſage Delphic oracles decree.
Firſt for the fable; "that's a flimzy tale,
"With unſupported characters, dull, ſtale,
"Not one generic, or original.
"The ſituations want dramatic art,
"Such feeble patho's ne'er can touch the heart.
[]"Next plainly does the plagiary appear,
"This, Ha! is Richard, and that Oh! is Lear,
The Pſhaws, and Tuts are Shakſpeare, Shakſpeare clear.
Yet why this rage to damn? the thief on ſhore
Who eyes the labouring bark, when tempeſts roar,
And prays, that rocks the veſſel's ribs may break,
Means his own gain in plundering the wreck.
But tho' a thouſand foundering poets ſplit,
None thrive, and ſome muſt loſe by ſhipwreck'd wit.
Who ſteals your fame, as Shakſpeare ſaid of yore,
Enriches not himſelf but makes you poor.
The Tartar, when his comely foe lies ſlain,
Hopes with his ſpoils, his qualities to gain.
Cou'd critics every excellence deſtroy,
They nought inherit, but the barbarous joy.
Then of all cenſors, none are ſo ſevere
As thoſe, whoſe ſcenes have been exploded here.
Self rais'd to the tribunal ſeat of letters,
As rogues made juſtices, they try their betters.
Unlike the Carthage queen, the ills they bore
But indurate their callous boſoms more.
Shou'd ſome pert teacher, his own worth to enhance
Decry all rival brothers of the dance,
Swear, one was aukward, t'other's manner coarſe,
Another hobbled like a founder'd horſe,
Say wou'd you not the envious railer blame,
When once you knew, Coupee himſelf was lame?
[]Some merry idlers to the pen reſort,
And free from malice, write at us in ſport,
Like the poor pelted frogs we cry out thus,
"Alas 'tis play to you, but death to us."
Yet ſhou'd ſome genuine critic point a fault,
Our author's not too forward to be taught,
To ſage good counſel thankful he'll attend,
And think who ſpares him leaſt, is moſt his friend.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

[]
Men.
Women.

Deputies, Guards, Lictors, &c.

SCENE, ROME.

—duri magno ſed amore dolores
Polluto, notumque ſurens quid ſaemina poſſit.
VIRGIL, v. E.

CONSPIRACY, A TRAGEDY.

[]

ACT I.

SCENE I.
Apartments of VITELLIA.—VITELLIA, SEXTUS.
Vitellia.
THOU doſt but mock me. Muſt I hear for ever
How great thy preparations, while I know
How poor the deeds that follow. What avails it
That thy deep practices with Lentulus
Inflamed his ardor; that the fuel's laid
To wrap the towering capitol in fire;
(The appointed ſignal to begin the aſſault
On the unguarded Titus) that our friends
On the right arm diſplay a Tyrian ſcarf,
Amidſt the blaze and tumult to diſtinguiſh
The abettors of our boldneſs,—this dull tale
With nauſeous iteration ten times boaſted
Indignant I have heard. Still my revenge
Preys on itſelf, the tyrant lives to ſcorn me,
[2]Lives to uſurp a throne by right Vitellia's,
Nay worſe, to brave me by a public act
That gives my ſceptre, and his worthleſs hand
To Syrian Berenice.
Sextus.
Worthleſs hand!
Then wherefore anxious how he give that hand?
Why ſhou'd you wiſh it offer'd?
Vitellia.
To reject it.
What can I plead for thee? My own juſt rage
That burns unceaſing in this boiling breaſt,
At times ſeems heighten'd by thy fiercer flame.
What will not Sextus dare at parting from me;
Allegiance, danger, friendſhip, melt before me.
But when I fly with ready recompence,
I find the promis'd ſervice unperform'd,
Some haggar'd fear arreſts thy trembling arm,
Phantoms, and doubts, and conſcience ſhiver thee.
How can I reconcile ſuch contraries,
Such ardor with ſuch coldneſs?
Sextus.
I as well
Might bid the rapid whirlwind give me audience,
For while intemperate choler—
Vitellia.
Now I'm calm,
Now to thy caſuiſtry—if words have power
To reconcile a lover's faith and honour
With expectations, rais'd but to be cruſh'd,
With oaths diſſolv'd, even like the breath that form'd them,
[3]Thou art a rhetorician ſubtler far
Than he of Greece, or our own ſmooth-tongued Tully.
Sextus.
I know no art, nor does this cauſe require it.
If 'tis a crime to be irreſolute,
Where duty, honour, gratitude combine
To bid me not reſolve; I own the charge,
Nay ought (whate'er the forfeit) glory in it.
Cou'd I at once determine on this deed,
Did no compunctious harrowings within
Print deep the prohibition on my ſoul:
I were a monſter, madam, not a Roman.
Vitellia.
A Roman! no, give o'er that empty boaſt;
Shame of the unworthy.—Oaths are bonds with Romans,
Even at the altar of eternal Truth,
The holy fane claſp'd by thy outſtretch'd arms
I bound thee by ſuch ſacred ceremonies,
(When firſt I liſten'd to thy well-feign'd paſſion)
Ne'er to divulge what to thy faith I truſted,
And next, tho' Stygian horrors compaſs'd it
To join my vengeance; now to hear this ſound,
This windy vaunt "that Sextus is a Roman."
Sextus.
Whatever be my country, or my nature,
One character I wear indelible,
Thy fond, thy faithful lover. Oh Vitellia!
The wavering of my ſoul too ſtrongly proves
How fierce the ſtorm that ſhakes me. Yet alas!
Like the tall pine when Caurus takes his top,
[4]While the ſharp axe indents his trunk beneath,
I ſtruggle, but to fall. Say is it little,
I can even think to perpetrate a crime
To late poſterity muſt damn my fame,
Blanch the dark records of paſt villainy,
And make the name of Caeſar's treacherous friend
Stand ſingle in th' abhor'd pre-eminence!
Vitellia.
Then be the friend of Caeſar, from this hour
No more Vitellia's lover.
Sextus.
Ever, ever.
My fruitleſs turmoil in the fatal ſnare
But winds it cloſer round me. Urged by thee
Treaſon ſeems juſtice, dark aſſaſſination
Wears the bright robe of honourable vengeance.
I know the infatuation of my ſoul,
There is no crime of deepeſt ebon dye
My prompt obedience would not perpetrate.
By thee arraign'd this gracious emperor
Seems to deſerve the bloodieſt tyrant's doom,
But oh when I approach his matchleſs virtues,
My fury turns to reverence, awe, and wonder.
Vitellia.
Brave when the danger's diſtant—what more common?
The courage of our peaſants.—But go on.
Sextus.
Unjuſt Vitellia! think ere you condemn
A heart ſo torn as mine—you ſteel my arm
To wreak your dire revenge, the emperor
[5]Demands my loyalty. Thy offer'd hand
Impels on one ſide, every tye of honour
Binds me to Titus. All my love, is thine,
My duty, his. To thee when I return,
Some new diſcover'd beauty fires my ſenſe,
While in the ſoul of Titus I admire
Some freſhly blooming virtue. Scorned by thee
Life were a burden, yet to pay this price
Seals me a wretch for ever. Powers of juſtice!
Can ſhe hear this, and yet reproach her Sextus?
Vitellia.
Aſſure thyſelf of no reproach from me.
Scorn and contempt are ſilent monitors.
Sextus.
Yet think ere one irrevocable ſtroke
Deprive the world of its firſt ornament,
Rome of a father, Nature of a friend.
Revolve the heroic ſpirits of times paſt,
See him unparallel'd.
Vitellia.
He has ſome virtues,
But men like monſters only are without them.
Nero reign'd five years wiſely.—But my father!
Was there an inſult to ſink degradation
From Pride's high pinnacle to ignominy,
Unpractiſed on their emperor? Hooted, drag'd,
(The dagger at his throat) by dungeon ſlaves
O'er their polluted pavements. O juſt Ate
Appeaſe his manes with luxuriant ſlaughter!
Sextus.
[6]
What juſtice can involve him in the charge?
He not contrived, nor countenanced the outrage.
Vitellia.
No, but he profits by it. That condemns him.
Sextus.
I know him form'd with every excellence,
Brave, pious, merciful, benevolent.
Would he reward deſert, his coffers ſeem
Poor to his boundleſs liberality.
Is he conſtrain'd to puniſh, his ſweet nature
Finds ſome ſoft palliative for every wretch,
Green inexperience pleads the excuſe for one,
Grey hairs abſolves another. Every day
That paſſes o'er his head unmark'd by bounty
He calls a blank in life, and ſtrikes it off
As worthleſs to be number'd.
Vitellia.
Grant it all.
Yet ſtill he reigns.—
Sextus.
He reigns 'tis true, Vitellia!
But all the cares of royalty are his,
And all the bleſſings ours—the laurel wreath,
The Imperial purple.—
Vitellia.
Hear, majeſtic Juno!
And doſt thou come with pomp of ſounding words
The herald of my foe, to trumpet forth
His irkſome virtues? ſure thou haſt forgot
This boaſted pageant wears the diadem
His father tore from mine. Say ſhou'd he not,
(Had he a monarch's ſenſe of royal juſtice)
[7]Have ſhar'd that diadem his father raviſh'd
With her who rightly own'd it?
Sextus.
Ah Vitellia!
Is this the proof of hate? the vizor falls,
In vain its outſide varniſh wou'd diſplay
The father's wrongs, the daughter's piety,
Reveal'd beneath the genuine face diſplays
The burning fluſh of angry jealouſy.—
Vitellia.
Jealouſy!
Sextus.
Alas! too plain.
Vitellia.
How, jealouſy!
Sextus.
And muſt this deſperate hand.—
Vitellia.
I'll hear no more.
Here I abſolve thee from thy worthleſs vows,
Thus give them to the winds. Soon ſhall I find
A braver arm to vindicate my cauſe.
Sextus.
I cannot bear theſe frowns.
Vitellia.
Away, unhand me,
Let Titus bleed, and call Vitellia thine.
To them, ANNIUS.
Annius.
Sextus! the emperor ſeeks thee.
Vitellia.
Quick, be gone.
'Tis ſtrange he can afford a moment's leiſure
To any but his lovely Berenice.
Annius.
Madam, he pays th' obedience he exacts.
Governing himſelf, he learns to rule the world.
Within this hour, by his eſpecial order,
[8]The unwilling queen departed.
Sextus.
How!
Vitellia.
What ſay'ſt thou?
Annius.
Preſent I ſaw the tender ſeparation,
And ſcarce cou'd truſt the fortitude I witneſs'd.
Vitellia.
My hopes revive.
Aſide.
Sextus.
O unexampled virtue!
Vitellia.
Wou'd I had ſeen it! with what extacy
Cou'd I have heard the proud forſaken wretch
Reproach her faithleſs lover.
Annius.
Tears alone
Were her upbraidings. Gently ſhe withdrew,
Convinced the tender ſoul of Titus ſuffer'd
More than her own, by the conſtrain'd adieu.
Vitellia.
Her pride perhaps deceived her.
Annius.
No, 'twas plain
Conflict preceded conqueſt. But the ſenate,
And Rome's repeated wiſh.—
Vitellia.
The ſenate, Rome!
It is a kind of mockery to name them.
Did they not flatter Nero? Half the crimes
Of their mad emperors, Rome's ſlaves engender'd.
Her infancy was ſavage and unjuſt,
Poliſh'd depravity her riper age,
With every new refinement, ſome new guilt,
Even in her ſports and pleaſures barbarous.
But now, her rank maturity arrived,
[9]She ſoaks and fattens in groſs infamy.
If there were any righteous Jupiter,
His thunder would proclaim him. This vile city,
This ſtew of ſordid vice and luxury,
Upturn'd from its foundations, rent and cruſh'd
Would ſmoke in frightful piles, a monument
That there were gods, and Rome provok'd their ven⯑geance.
Apart to Vitellia.
Sextus.
The object of your hatred changes quickly,
'Twas Titus, now 'tis Rome. I ſee the cauſe
Of this ſo ſudden mutability.
Vitellia.
You ſee with jaundiced eye. But mark me Sextus!
Still apart.
'Twere moſt unwiſe to proſecute our vengeance,
Till the freſh gloſs of this late ſpecious act
Fades in the public eye—you look miſtruſt.
My will you have heard—obey me or reſign me.
Exit Vitellia.
Remain ANNIUS and SEXTUS.
Annius.
Why droops my friend! Why o'er thy labouring brow,
Rides that black tempeſt, while beneath, thine eye
Glares wildly to the centre?
Sextus.
Annius, Annius!
I am a wretch whom Jove's almighty arm
Cou'd ſcarce pluck from perdition. Let me warn thee,
[10]Give not unbounded empire o'er thy ſoul,
To proud revengeful woman.
Annius.
Nay my friend!
Sink not beneath the ſcorn of that coy beauty.
Yet full orb'd charms like her's, tho' paſt the bud,
Strike deeper root in the young amorous heart
Than equal youth in its freſh primy bloom,
Than Hebe or Janthe's orient ſoftneſs.
Sextus.
Their ſmiles are goddeſſes, but once inflamed,
All good perverted to its oppoſite,
Keen in the feeling of imagin'd wrongs,
They know no ties, all duties ſink beneath them,
Virtue and vice are ſhades, to fade or glow,
As their outrageous paſſions give them colour.
Annius.
I view them Sextus in a brighter mirror,
A pure expanſe unclouded and ſerene,
Thy lovely ſiſter's charms. This day my friend,
(For fair Cornelia ſmiled her approbation,)
Knit cloſe the ties of our dear amity,
And gain the emperor's conſent to join us.
Sextus.
He has heap'd his favours on me, and I know
Sighing deeply.
Unworthy as I am, will meet my wiſh
United thus to thine, with gracious ardor.
May the ſoft powers who ſmile on nuptial bliſs
Lucina, Hymen, and the Idalian love,
Strew their unfading roſes o'er your couch,
[11]And from the brightneſs of your mutual joy
Send one kind gleam to warm this chearleſs breaſt,
Annius.
Nay, do not wound me with this deep de⯑jection.
Had Fortune thus conſpired to make thee happy
I ſwear I wou'd have huſh'd my own complaints,
Nor let one inauſpicious thought intrude
To cloud my gladneſs in a friend's contentment.
Farewell. I will precede thee to the emperor,
And wait impatient till you crown my wiſhes.
Sextus.
Anon I'll follow thee. Farewell one mo⯑ment.
Exit Annius.
SEXTUS,
alone.
For ſee the fiery Lentulus appears.
Indignant of reſtraint, I know he comes,
With furious zeal to chide my cold delay,
And puſh me to deſtruction.
To him, LENTULUS.
Lent.
Well encounter'd,
All is diſpoſed, why then this dull ſuſpenſe,
Our eager friends like ſtaunch hounds in the leaſh,
Pant for the welcome ſignal to be loos'd,
And ſnuff the deſtin'd quarry.
Sextus.
Are they then
So eager to embrue their ruthleſs fangs
In the rich blood of Titus, are they weary
(Unthinking fools) to their own happineſs,
[12]Blind to the bleſſings of his gentle reign,
To heaven ungrateful, do they wiſh to ſeat
A direr Nero in the imperial chair,
And bow the knee to the remorſeleſs brother.
Lent.
Of that hereafter. No, they wiſh to avoid
The fate of poor Alienus and Marcellus,
Who with protracting councils like our own
Conſpir'd againſt Veſpaſian, and gave time
For this his ſon's preventive vigilance
To turn the deſtin'd ſlaughter on themſelves.
Sextus.
O righteous doom of black conſpiracy,
Always abhor'd, and rarely fortunate.
The blood that iſſues from a monarch's wound
Enſanguines deep the ſword which dares to ſhed it.
What gain'd the nobleſt of conſpirers, Brutus
By Caeſar's ſlaughter, but to fall himſelf
By the ſame ſteel and dying to prophane
Subſtantial virtue as an empty ſhadow?
Lent.
He made half work, he left a ſecond Caeſar.
But like ripe corn beneath the ſharpen'd ſcythe.
Here the whole Flavian line ſhall down together.
Sextus.
O Rome, prepoſterous Rome! how many tyrants
Smear'd with the blood of your beſt citizens
Have in their palaces ſlept undiſturb'd,
And ſunk in peace to execrated graves,
While this great Paragon—
Lent.
[13]
For ſhame forbear.
Theſe thoughts ſhould have preceded, not crept after
Your bold concurrence in a perilous league.
Like the vile rabble in our warlike triumphs,
Diſgracing the proud pomp they howling follow.
Where were theſe thoughts when thy young ardour found me
Brooding o'er mutter'd threats, and unſhap'd miſchief?
Thy forward zeal bad me deſpiſe complaint,
And Roman-like truſt to my arm for vengeance.
Sextus.
Oh the more villain I, and every tongue
Like thine ſhould laſh me with the memory.
But you invert the charge. Black was the hour
That knowing thee I ſhun'd not—you received me,
While yet the embrio guilt but gaſp'd within me,
With quick, preventive, keen malignity—
Lent.
And ſav'd thy puny bluſhes. But no matter,
With pride I wear the wreath, pale fear caſts from thee.
Be it thine to praiſe him Sextus, and betray:
Mine to avow my anger, and chaſtiſe:
In thee it may be guilt, in me 'tis juſtice.
Sextus.
The difference I doubt. 'Tis your's to ex⯑plain it.
Lent.
When the world's wonder, Sion's haughty Temple,
Smok'd on the ground an undiſtinguiſh'd ruin,
[14]Faſt by his ſide I fought. There he beheld
How this good arm, ſcarce ſecond to his own,
Dealt death among his foes; but when I aſk'd
To rule the province, I had help'd to conquer,
He durſt deny me—what the reaſon think you?
Becauſe thoſe outcaſts of the peopled world,
The ſcum and ſcorn of nations, Jews, vile Jews,
Accuſed me of extortion in his abſence.
Sextus.
Was that the cauſe? O god-like emperor!
How ſhall the breath of friendſhip raiſe thy name,
When hate itſelf brings wreaths to thy renown
And points its accuſation from thy virtue.
Lent.
Thou pale cold medler in a manly danger
Go with thy palſied conſcience, aſpen traitor!
Fall at the tyrant's foot, reveal thy plot,
But caſt the blame on me, or ſome brave Roman
Seduced by thy falſe tongue, and now betray'd.
Sextus.
Rail on—I have deſerv'd it—
Lent.
Be a man,
And what you durſt contrive, dare execute.
The dull are unſuſpicious. This good emperor,
Whom our prone ſenate have already godded,
(For reptiles can make gods) is penetrable
By any gallant ſteel.
Sextus.
And know'ſt thou not,
That ſhe who ſet thee on,—I bluſh to name her,
That beauteous miſchief, wou'd ſuſpend the blow.
Lent.
[15]
Be thou the floating feather of her whim,
Move or be ſtill as her caprice ordains it.
I ſhall plow on with my broad canvaſs ſpread,
Too full to waver with a woman's breath.
Tho' ſhe indeed deſerves a firmer ſex:
Woman in beauty, but a bold ſhe falcon,
That maſculinely ſoars on female pinions.
Our Clelias, Portias, Arrias riſe in her.
Sextus.
And canſt thou do this deed?
Lent.
And canſt thou aſk it?
I'm weary of this wrangling. Freeze thou here,
While I go ſend him to enjoy his godſhip.
His apotheoſis on earth is little.
Above our heads, throned near immortal Jove,
With pity he'll look down on this dim earth,
And thank me for his paſſport to the ſkies.
Exit Lentulus.
SEXTUS,
alone.
Theſe are the bitter fruits of treachery,
This thing of malice I myſelf have hatch'd,
This viper of my treaſon, with foul breath
Caſts back the venom he imbibed from me,
And ſtings while he obeys me. Shame and ruin!
I have ſtep'd midway in the ſwelling tide,
While the loud torrent thunders from above.
Where'er I turn, grim horror ſits array'd,
And ſhakes a dreadful dart. I dare not paſs,
[16]Nor can regain the ſhore. Avenging Jove!
Bare thy red arm, chuſe out thy hotteſt bolt,
And headlong hurl me to the hell I merit.
Exit.
END OF FIRST ACT.

ACT II.

SCENE I.
The Temple of Jupiter. TITUS with Guards, Lictors, &c.—PUBLIUS with ſeveral Senators and the De⯑puties of the ſubject Provinces bringing the accuſtomed Tribute. SEXTUS and ANNIUS come forward from the oppoſite ſides, among the reſt LENTULUS.
Publius.
O FATHER of thy country! thus the ſenate
With general voice ſalute their emperor,
Nor ever did their awful rolls contain,
A vote more juſt, a title ſo deſerv'd.
Annius.
O Titus! not alone thy country's father,
She deems thee more, her guardian deity.
[17]As ſuch decrees thee temples, and hereafter
Means as a god to invoke thy ſacred name.
Publius.
This annual tribute of the ſubject ſtates
To that great work ſhe dedicates, and prays
Thy kind acceptance of the offer'd homage.
Lent.
Now the God ſpeaks, and now for oracles,
Aſide
But thy celeſtial panoply ſhall yield
To one good ſtroke from this poor mortal arm.
Titus.
Hear me ye Romans! to deſerve your love
Is the firſt wiſh that animates my breaſt,
Let not that love exceed its modeſt bounds
To ſtain the emperor's cheek and yours with bluſhes.
How wou'd the eternal movers of the world
Smile to behold my puny godhead ſhake
When the North's icy arrows ſearch'd my breaſt,
Or, while my altars ſmoked with ſacrifice,
(Shou'd fevers riot in my burning veins,)
To hear my proſtrate deity implore
Some friendly hand to moiſten my parch'd lip,
To extend a little Tiber in a cup,
And comfort immortality with water?
Annius.
Thus greatly to deſerve, and greater ſtill,
Decline the tribute of your ſubjects praiſe,
Caſts deeper ſhame on their prepoſterous zeal
Who laviſh'd on imperial Tyranny,
And monſters, miſcall'd men, the praiſe of gods.
Titus.
I not reject the offerings of your love,
[18]But wou'd apply them to a worthier purpoſe.
Veſuvius' late eruption has laid waſte
(Tremendous viſitation) the fair country.
(A prodigy reſerv'd for this ill time
That loudly warns for ſome new expiation,)
The neighbouring cities lye one cumbrous maſs
Of hideous ruin. Whom the fiery wave
Spared to deſtroy, pale Famine now devours.
This gold may bring relief to miſery.
Theſe be my temples, thus be Titus worſhip'd.
Publius.
Such temples are indeed more durable
Than pyramids whoſe proud tops pierce the ſky,
No ſtorm can ſhake them, nor no time deſtroy.
Their altars riſe in every virtuous breaſt,
And their rich incenſe is the o'erflowing heart.
Titus.
Enough, enough—I would be private friends
Annius ſtay thou. Approach, come near my Sextus.
Exeunt Publius and others.
TITUS, SEXTUS, ANNIUS.
Annius.
Now Sextus warmly urge my deareſt intereſt▪
Sextus.
Ah Sir! I dread to ſpeak—your Berenice.—
Titus.
Oh ſpare me, ſpare me. 'Twas a painful ſtruggle.
Rome and the emperor ſaw with different eyes,
Rome, that ſhe was a ſtranger and a queen,
And I, her truth and beauty.
Sextus.
Yet ſhe left you.
Titus.
[19]
Reluctantly alas, as I endured it.
The ſenate preſs'd me long to native nuptials,
I interpoſed as long with feign'd delays.
While one dear image, miſtreſs of my ſoul,
In ſilent ſoft ſecurity reign'd there,
To dictate all which caution ſeem'd to utter.
Sextus.
'Twas moſt unjuſt and cruel ſo to urge you.
Titus.
The chambers next to theſe were once the queen's,
Nor eye nor foot but mine ſhall viſit them
Since ſhe forſakes them. There I'll give my ſoul
Its burſt of anguiſh, there I'll hear her voice,
There her enchanting form ſhall ſmile before me
In all her ſoft luxuriancy of beauty.
The lute ſhe touch'd, the flowers her needle painted
Now mute or ſcatter'd as ſhe caſt them from her,
Remind me of the dear delicious hours
When my enamour'd heart ſpoke out, and own'd her.
Thy maſter there will be no emperor.
Sextus.
Yet in the ſenate be an emperor.
The name of queen we know is alien to them,
(Such is the force of rooted prejudice,)
Tho' in the imperial title they endure
More ſubjugation than Rome's ſeven kings,
Had all been Tarquins, cou'd impoſe upon them,
They tremble at the ſhade, but hug the ſubſtance.
Titus.
I rule their will, but can't remove their error.
[20]Fatal to my repoſe, or ſhade or ſubſtance.
A prey to cankerous regret within,
I ſtrive againſt the feeling which conſumes me,
My reaſon diſeſteems my heart's deſire,
Condemns the choice, and yet adores the object.
Sextus.
Thus princes are but ſubjects to opinion.
Titus.
New importunity each hour aſſails me
To fix the ſceptre in the Flavian line,
And with ſome daughter of Patrician blood
To ſhare the imperial purple. Warm eſteem
Since Rome will have me wived, with calmer fires
Muſt light the torch of Hymen. This my Sextus
Pleads for thy ſiſter moſt, dear by that tie,
And in herſelf unrival'd.
Sextus.
How, my ſiſter,
Cornelia Sir!
Titus.
Cornelia.
Annius.
Dire election!
Aſide.
Titus.
Thou Annius! bear my greetings to Cornelia.
The ſenate have my promiſe, ere the ſun
Sunk in his weſtern tent, their new Auguſta
Shou'd be proclaim'd. So tell them of my choice.
My heart can form no new engagement Sextus!
To looſe the bonds of friendſhip. Names alone
The emperor and the ſubject muſt not weaken
Strict amity like ours.
Sextus.
Oh Sir! conſider.
[21]An humbler lot will ſuit my ſiſter's fortune,
Beſides your bounties ſhower'd upon our houſe
Will fall in envious curſes on my head,
And ſink my name, but to exalt your error.
Titus.
Let Rome be envious, not thy prince unjuſt.
The friend adopted thus, holds not his place
By the light tenure of the popular breath,
But by my weigh'd ſelection.
Sextus.
'Tis too much.
Stop this profuſion of unbounded goodneſs,
Unleſs you mean to ſwell the mighty debt
Beyond my power to thank you, leſt you turn
The feelings of a heart, that knows its frailty,
To undeſerving and ingratitude.
Titus.
I cannot taſte a rough unſocial joy,
Nor truſt me wou'd it ſtir my blood one jot,
Tho' at my nod the necks of Rome ſhou'd bow
Like willows to the wind. One good man's thanks,
The warm effuſions of a ſoul obliged
To me are more than all the pageantry,
My heart partakes not, tho' my power commands.
Exeunt Titus and Sextus.
ANNIUS,
alone.
Curs'd be my fortune, curs'd the medling ſenate,
That in the blindneſs of their buſy zeal
Thus goad him to my ruin. Slaviſh drones!
That buzzing ſearch their muſty regiſters
[22]To find ſome record of paſt turpitude,
A ſanction for the meditated ſhame,
An earlier precedent of ignominy,
Then dawb their volume with ſome worſe diſgrace,
Some fouler ſtain of manhood's dignity,
And call the enrollment ſacred.—Yet why curſe them,
Hence from my breaſt this ſelfiſh vile alloy
Debaſing genuine paſſion. Let her glory
Be now thy miſtreſs. Bow to that my ſoul,
And worſhip her at diſtance. Yet 'tis hard,
To caſt away affection like a garment,
To tame young blood by cold neceſſity,
And love! for thy untutor'd fervency,
To learn the icy leſſon of reſpect.
But ſee ſhe comes.—Oh never did my eyes
Behold her half ſo beauteous as this moment.
A dear thing loſt thus puts forth all its value.
To him CORNELIA.
Cornelia.
My Annius!
Annius.
Soft Cornelia, 'tis a crime
To uſe endearments now.
Cornelia.
A crime! amazement!
Annius.
Yes a moſt dangerous crime, a new made crime,
A crime within this hour, no leſs than treaſon.
Know thou art deſtin'd to aſcend the throne
Of Rome's great maſter.—Can I utter it!
[23]Thou art his choice, the empreſs of Caeſar.
And, would'ſt thou think it, he to me aſſign'd
The barbarous taſk as ſuch to greet thee for him.
Going.
Cornelia.
The empreſs of Caeſar! which way, wherefore!
Annius.
Becauſe my deſtiny but toil'd to plague me,
Becauſe thy virtues, beauty were too bright
To bleſs theſe humble arms—farewell for ever.
I could but give a heart, and he the world.
Oh I ſhall grow diſloyal if I gaze,
And curſe the man, my duty bids me honour.
Exit Annius.
CORNELIA
alone.
Me Caeſar's empreſs! Can that name alone
Turn oaths to air, and melt the ſoul's affections,
And can the generous Titus.—No I wrong him.
He knows not our engagements. He's too good,
Too gentle, thus with tyrannous violence
Rudely to ſeize involuntary vows,
And force by power what's due alone to love.
Exit Cornelia.
[24]SCENE—An Apartment in the Palace.
TITUS meeting PUBLIUS who holds a Paper.
Shouts heard.
Titus.
Whence this rude diſſonance, whoſe barba⯑rous roar
Shakes to the centre theſe tall battlements?
Publius.
Loud as a ſtormy ſea the people ruſh
Promiſcuous to the temples, and with ſhouts
Deaf'ning the ſky, implore the gods to guard you.
Titus.
Such clamorous prayers are impiety.
They do inſtruct the gods, and not adore them.
There is more worſhip in one contrite ſigh
Breath'd from the breaſt of humble penitence,
Than in whole hecatombs and clouds of incence.
If heaven will grant me length of days, 'tis well,
But the laſt bleſſing I ſhould beg from heaven.
Publius.
'Tis the wan caſt of tranſient melancholy,
A momentary ſhade that comes and paſſes,
Can make great Titus ſpeak thus to his Romans.
Titus.
Survey man's little ſtate thro' every age,
And tell me, wherefore ſhou'd we fear to change it?
When children all our wiſhes gape at manhood,
[25]And that arriv'd, we ſigh to recollect
The lively bloſſom of our greener years,
Swearing our ſchool days were the happieſt.
Then frowns Ambition's ſtrife, and Diſappointment,
Or Friendſhip's brow eſtranged, or luckleſs love,
Unbleſs'd thus in the paſt or preſent hour,
No centre fix'd for fleeting happineſs,
Old age creeps joyleſs on, with envious ſtep
Stealing us further from each ſweet remembrance,
Till all that miniſter'd our brief delight,
Whether from pamper'd ſenſe, or flattering hope,
Lies buried in that mouldering monument.
Is that for my inſpection?
The paper held by Publius.
Publius.
It contains,
The names of thoſe raſh citizens who dared
With calumny licentious to traduce
The fame of our great emperors before you.
Titus.
A barbarous regiſter, which nought avails
To the departed, and adminiſters
Unnumber'd wiles for treachery and fraud
To enſnare the living, ſo henceforth remember
(To pluck the root up of this dangerous evil)
The informer, not the accuſed ſhall meet my wrath.
Publius.
Yet Sir, it is but juſt.
Titus.
Were juſtice urged
To rigor's iron verge, the peopled earth
Would ſwarm with herds, not men. For who has found
[26]In frail humanity the faultleſs monſter?
Guilt ſteels itſelf, and hardens in ſociety,
Beſides, 'tis dangerous truſt me to divulge
The world contains ſo little virtue, Publius!
Publius.
But Sir, there are, who with foul breath will dare
Even to traduce your name.
Titus.
Why let them, Publius!
If Levity give breath to foul diſcourſe,
It matters not; if Folly, I lament it;
If men complain with reaſon, I ſhou'd thank them,
And profit by reproof. Does Malice blame me,
I know my innocence, and ſcorn the ſlander.
To them, CORNELIA.
My fair one, my elect! my lovely empreſs!
Cornelia.
Suſpend a while that title. Hear me firſt.
A ſecret preſſes on this anxious breaſt
To you, and only you, I can diſcover.
Titus.
Publius farewell! now freely ſpeak Cornelia!
Exit Publius.
Cornelia.
That you have deign'd from all the maids of Rome
To chuſe Cornelia to partake your throne,
O emperor! I own the bright diſtinction.
Deem'd worthy of thy choice, my conſcious ſoul
Riſes in ſelf eſteem; this prompts my tongue
To truſt thy goodneſs, to conceal no thought
[27]Whoſe reſervation might upbraid my weakneſs
With mean ſuſpicion of thy matchleſs juſtice.
Titus.
Speak, freely ſpeak!
Cornelia.
Firſt, let me ſwear, there lives not,
Who more than I do, venerates thy name,
And owns thy wond'rous virtue. Yet my heart—
I fear to move your anger.—
Titus.
Pray go on.
Cornelia.
It is not mine to give. An early flame,
Felt ere I knew to name it, burn'd for Annius.
If ſo you will accept my hand,—'tis yours.
Titus.
Periſh ſo baſe a thought! for once I ſee,
(Rare ſight for kings) the viſage of bright truth
Unmaſk'd and genuine. Thou haſt nobly ventur'd,
Even when it might offend the emperor
To ſhow her undiſguis'd. My beſt Cornelia!
How much am I thy debtor. Cou'dſt thou fear
I wou'd diſturb your loves.
Cornelia.
[burſting into tears]
I knew you wou'd not.
If loſt in admiration of thy goodneſs,
My words but poorly thank you, O believe it;
Too big for ſpeech my ſwelling gratitude
Beggars the weak expreſſion of my tongue,
Moſt thankful, when moſt ſilent.
Titus.
Dear Cornelia!
Wou'dſt thou indeed be grateful, teach to others
Sincerity like thine. Bid wholeſome Truth,
[28](Coy viſitant of courts) return ſecure.
Even in her homelieſt garb ſhe ſhall be welcome,
More welcome than the practiſed harlot ſmiles,
The ambuſh'd lie of guileful flattery.
Soft are her blandiſhments, the vizor fair,
But underneath,—oh how unlike the varniſh!
Exit Titus.
To CORNELIA, VITELLIA.
Vitellia.
May I without offence preſume to offer
My early homage to my ſovereign?
May I adore that beauty, whoſe bright beams
Thus ſhine ſuperior with unrival'd radiance,
And charm the ſoul of Titus. Roman ladies
Tho' paragons before, muſt humbly ſeek
Eſpouſals in the ſenate, muſt ſubmit
To match with praetors, or poor deputies,
And leave the only Caeſar for Cornelia.
But one can be Auguſta.
Cornelia.
Inſolent!
Aſide.
But let her be deceiv'd. Such ſcorn deſerves it.
Farewell Vitellia!
Going.
Vitellia.
This diſdain becomes you.
Once we at leaſt were equal. Time has been,
Tho' now the giddy wheel's fantaſtic round
Has whirl'd thee higheſt, that Rome's proudeſt ſhe,
Even Sextus' ſiſter, even the elect of Titus,
Had ſtatue-like ſtood ſtill at my command,
[29]And bluſh'd obedience to the emperor's daughter.
Cornelia.
Enraptured with the ſenſe of boundleſs joy
My tranſports might ſeem inſult—let me fly,
From that ſtern brow, where ſmiles and love await me.
Exit Cornelia.
VITELLIA,
alone.
Muſt I endure it, bear with tame ſubmiſſion
This contumelious ſuperiority?
With what diſdain the haughty minion eyed me.
May their falſe Hymen wave Alecto's torch
To ſcatter diſcord, hate, and barrenneſs,
May furies yell around their nuptial couch,
And Jove's red lightning in the embrace conſume them.
Yawn gaping hell, ingulf them from my ſight,
To hide in Tartarus the bliſs that blaſts me.
Tremble ingrate! tremble at my rous'd fury,
Thy blood this very hour.—
To her, SEXTUS.
Sextus.
I joy to meet thee.
My ſun but riſes to renew that hope,
And his ſloped beam that dims the ſhadowy world
Takes nothing but thy beauty from my ſight,
To ſadden his decline.—
Vitellia.
Is Rome on fire?
The capitol in aſhes? Where is Lentulus?
Does Titus bleed, ſay is the tyrant dead?
Sextus.
Suſpenſion of the deed you laſt commanded.
Vitellia.
[30]
The deed ſuſpended! yet dar'ſt thou pre⯑ſume
Thus boldly to approach me, thus to greet me
As if ſecure thy preſence wou'd be welcome?
Sextus.
I heard no revocation of the order.
Vitellia.
Haſt thou not heard the inſult of this hour,
Cruel, unparalleled, and doſt thou wait
A ſignal leſs equivocal? Oh fool!
To take him for a lover, who thus poorly
Can know my wrongs, nor think they cry for vengeance.
Sextus.
Oh cou'd I find a ſingle ſpecious cauſe
To varniſh o'er the act.—
Vitellia.
A ſingle cauſe!
I'll give thee thouſands. One for ev'ry impulſe
That can excite a noble mind to daring.
Does freedom charm thee? tear away the ſhackles
That clank at the degraded ſenate's heels,
And riſe the Brutus of theſe ſervile times.
Does bright ambition fire thee? open lies
The broad ſtrait road to empire. All my train,
My friends, my title to the imperial rule,
All ſhall be thine. Say can my hand, my heart,
Crown thy deſires, fly to the enterpriſe,
Let me behold thee crimſon'd in the blood
Of this perfidious, to my arms I'll claſp thee
With fervor Juno like. Is't not enough,
Can'ſt thou ſtill heſitate? know then till now
[31]I lov'd this Titus—Still I may return,
(I dare not truſt my heart) again to love him.
Now fly. If thou can'ſt poorly ſhrink, inſenſible
To all the charms of glory, empire, love,
If thou can'ſt bear a rival who diſputes,
Uſurps and violates Vitellia's heart,
Thou art the laſt, the meaneſt of mankind.
Sextus,
O thou haſt found the way to rouſe my fury.
Love and a rival both ſhall juſtify.
I feel thy rage infuſed. Yes thou ſhalt ſee
Yon ſtately pile, yon capitol in flames.
This ſword ſhall bluſh with rich imperial blood.
My own runs back, and curdles at the thought.
Vitellia.
Doubt but a moment, and no more behold me.
Sextus.
Then vaniſh doubt. And may thy ſcorn repay me
And aggravate my ſhame, if I obey not.
Exit Sextus.
VITELLIA
alone.
Yes Titus thou ſhalt feel me, feel too late
The power of this deſpiſed, rejected beauty.
Too late ſhalt thou repent—
To her, PUBLIUS.
Publius.
Princeſs your pardon.
My tidings will I hope excuſe the intruſion,
For ſure they ſhould be welcome. Thro' the palace
The emperor ſeeks you, madam!
Vitellia.
[32]
Seeks me Publius!
Not ſo, not ſo.—Why ſhould he ſeek Vitellia?
Publius.
Can it be poſſible you know not why?
To make you partner of his throne and greatneſs.
Vitellia.
What have I done, that thou ſhou'd'ſt dare to mock me?
Publius.
To mock you lady! by my life I ſwear
He bad me in his name ſalute you empreſs.
Vitellia.
Cornelia but this hour.—
Publius.
This too I know,
Cornelia has declined his offer'd hand.
His faith was pledg'd (and that's inviolable)
By ſolemn deputation to the ſenate,
This day to name his empreſs, and th' election
Lights worthily on you. Fear of Domitian,
His ſucceſſor in power tho' not in virtue,
Shou'd our good Titus childleſs ſeek the ſkies,
With ghaſtly hue makes pale the ſenate's cheek,
Turns all the nectar of their bowls to gall,
And ſickens worſe than ſurfeits.
Vitellia.
Oh diſtraction!
Loſe not a moment—fly, begone, and find him!
Publius.
Whom madam?
Vitellia.
Sextus. Oh thou loiterer!
Publius.
What meſſage muſt I bear?
Vitellia.
Bid him return.
On all the wings of wind return, and meet me.
[33]Be ſpeedy Publius, to my chamber ſend him,
For more than life hangs on each precious moment.
Exeunt.
END OF SECOND ACT.

ACT III.

SCENE I.
A Palace.—LENTULUS with ſome PLEBEIANS.
Lentulus.
YOU know your ſtations. When the ſignal's rais'd
Conſpicuous from my roof, a lofty ſtandard
With crimſon banners floating, fire the piles,
Beneath the capitol, then crowd the ways,
And bar all acceſs to extinguiſh them.
Look well for me, I ſhall approach to lead you,
And give your thirſty ſwords their glut of ſlaughter.
Shout as I cry, and ſtrike where I command you.
Be reſolute, ſpare none, and earn your drachmas.
What humble virtue, when a drachma bribes it!
Exeunt.
[34]SEXTUS with a crimſon Scarf on his Arm.
Theſe fears are well, theſe ſecret horrors tell me
I am but half a villain. Every ſhadow,
Each paſſing breath that rides th' inviſible air
Swells to a terrible form, and with ſhrill tongue
Appals me as I tread. Raſh Lentulus
Speeds to the capitol. He but begins
The bloody buſineſs he rejoices in:
And happier ſo than I am. Cou'd I think,
That I ſhou'd live to envy Lentulus!
Then yet draw back thy foot. Can love require
A ſacrifice of blood, and a friend's blood,
Murder, aſſaſſination? no Vitellia!
Thy rage, and not thy nature prompted thee.
Thy ſoul's a woman's and thy calmer thoughts
Will bleſs my diſobedience. Then prevent it—
What do I ſee? the capitol on fire.
Already 'tis begun. My curs'd remorſe,
May mourn too late, but not prevent his doom.
As he is ruſhing out, Annius meets him.
Annius.
Where doſt thou ruſh? why this diſtemper'd haſte,
What means this wild diſtraction in thy looks?
Sextus.
No queſtions now—my ſhame too ſoon will tell thee.
Ruſhes out.
[35]ANNIUS
alone.
What can this mean? "My ſhame too ſoon will tell thee."
Shame finds no harbour in a breaſt like thine,
The ſeat of truth and honour. Yet his eyes
Glared wildly, his cheek pale, his trembling palm
Cold as the graſp of death. Some ſtrong convulſion
Too fierce for utterance or concealment ſhakes him.
Oh what a mournful change in his kind temper!
Gay as the ruddy morning which he met,
Or the rous'd lark, Hyperion's harbinger,
Obvious to all.—Now gloomy, ſad, retired,
And ſhunning with miſtruſt even love that ſeeks him
Yet may the balm of friendſhip.—
To him, CORNELIA.
Cornelia.
O my Annius!
Wake ev'ry ſenſe to joy and gratitude.
The antic fortune that with cruel ſport,
But mocks us with the approach of happineſs,
Weary at length gives o'er the unequal ſtrife,
And baffled owns our ſtronger deſtiny.
Annius.
I know it all, thy matchleſs conſtancy,
And flew to glad thy brother with the tidings.
Cornelia.
Yet art thou cold to the tranſporting bliſs,
Thy wandering eyes require ſome other object,
The preſſure of thy hand but feebly holds me.
Nay now it bids me leave thee, bids my tongue
[36]For other ears reſerve the ungrateful tale,
Or wait thy better leiſure to be welcome.
Annius.
I could for ever hear, for ever hold thee.
But now a dearer intereſt than my own,
Dearer than all but thee, muſt force me hence.
A little moment in the account of time,
But tedious hours in love's ſwift calendar,
Muſt I be abſent from thee.
To them, PUBLIUS, with a Centurion.
Publius.
Noble Annius!
I grieve to find thee thus. At ſuch a time!
The capitol on fire, all Rome alarmed,
Wild conſternation ſtalking through the ſtreets,
And dangers doubled by men's ignorance,
Thus unconcerned to ſhun the public care,
And loiter, while thy country claims thy ſervice.
Annius.
Ha! then my friend's diſtraction when we parted
Aſide.
May have ſome fatal cauſe
Going.
Cornelia.
Stay, Annius ſtay!
Thou wilt not thus abandon me, expoſed
Defenceleſs to the tumult?
Annius.
For a moment
Good Publius guard her! to thy care I truſt
A dearer pledge than yon devouring flames,
Tho' Rome's ſeven hills ſmoak'd from their hot embrace,
[37]And all their wealth was mine, could raviſh from me.
Exit Annius.
Remain CORNELIA, PUBLIUS, and a Centurion.
Cornelia.
But tell me Publius whence this accident?
Publius.
So may it prove. Yet is there cauſe to fear,
'Twas not the work of chance. Some dark deſign
Untraced as yet to its pernicious ſource
Has ſpread theſe threat'ning fires. Madam retire,
And baniſh every fear. This brave Centurion
Will guard your ſafety. I muſt ſpeed to find
The deſtin'd empreſs. 'Twas the emperor's order
I ſhould take care of both.
Cornelia.
Did Titus then
Think of our ſafety?
Publius.
He to all attends,
Provides 'gainſt all. Had'ſt thou but ſeen the hero,
Serene amidſt confuſion, check the raſh,
Confirm the timorous, with threats, with praiſe,
Quick to diſcern, now urge, and now reſtrain,
You would have ſeen united in one man,
The delegate of Jove, Rome's ſword and ſhield,
The prince, the friend, the citizen, the father.
I muſt delay no longer. Now 'tis ſafe
To lead you hence. Valerius will conduct you
Clear from the capitol, he knows the paſſage.
Madam farewell! I muſt attend the princeſs.
Exit Publius. Centurion conducts Cornelia.
[38] Enter VITELLIA, looking about diſtractedly.
My ſearch is bootleſs, ſome propitious ray
Direct me where to find him. 'Tis in vain.
Then let me fly, and warn the emperor.
Sextus! 'tis he—
To her, SEXTUS, with a bloody dagger.
Sextus.
In human! yes behold him.
Know thy own enſigns: theſe diſtracted looks,
Theſe tottering knees this dagger dyed in blood.
Now ſmile, and gild theſe horrors if you can.
Thy cruel mandate is too well obey'd.
Vitellia.
What do I hear!
Sextus.
Alas too ſure Vitellia!
Titus, oh Gods! pours forth his mighty ſoul,
And throbs in death's laſt pangs
Vitellia.
Dies by thy hand?
Sextus.
I did it not. Struck with remorſe too late
I ſtrove to ſave him. Ere I could arrive
A villain of the vile confederacy
Had pierced him from behind. In vain I cried,
"Hold monſter! hold!" the fatal blow was ſped,
The aſſaſſin left his execrable ſteel
Deep in the wound, and fled. In haſte I tried
To wrench it forth, but with the reeking blade
The blood guſh'd on my robe, and oh dire fate!
The hero cloſed his eyes, and lifeleſs fell.
Vitellia.
Why am not I too dead! Oh tis too much!
[39]Had the ſame hour that ſnatch'd his precious life
Seal'd theſe ſad eyes in everlaſting night,
Had the ſame ſtroke transfix'd this throbbing heart,
How had I bleſs'd the hour, how claſp'd the wound
What endleſs miſery had this breaſt eſcaped.
Sextus.
Pity and rage impell'd me to chaſtiſe
The impious murderer. In vain I ſought him
He has eſcaped my fury. Fiends ſhall find him,
No darkneſs can conceal it. But oh Princeſs!
What ſhades will cover Sextus! Earth nor heaven
Will ſhelter or receive me. Where's my peace?
See what a price my deſperate paſſion pays
To ſatisfy thy fury.
Vitellia.
True, too true.
I am a monſter. This inhuman breaſt
Might ſuckle tigers, give to ſavage natures
More deadly fierceneſs. Blood-ſtain'd as thou art
Thy ſoul is white as Alpine ſnow compared
With my deep guilt. From this deteſted hour,
Mankind, like withering peſtilence will ſhun me.
I am the curſe which yon myſterious heaven
Hangs o'er thy deſtin'd towers, imperial Rome!
Thy ſun is ſet, let darkneſs veil the earth,
Portentous, terrible; the offended Gods
Tho' hoary Flamens choke their ſkies with incenſe,
Ne'er caſt one look to this devoted land
Abandoned o'er to man's enormity,
[40]This land of horror, guilt, and parricide.
Sextus.
Oh thou had'ſt wrongs to mitigate thy crime,
But what had I? I loſt no throne by Titus,
Tho' thouſands ſought, and merited his favour,
Still on my head the precious dew was ſhower'd.
Honour and wealth thro' all the mighty empire,
In copious ſtreams flow'd from the will of Sextus.
Cheriſh'd, beloved! and well have I repaid him.
No father's ſhade like thine, cou'd haunt my ſlumbers,
To puniſh in the ſon, the ſire's offence.
Yet villain I contrived—
Vitellia.
A father's ſhade!
Oh ſpeak no more—Can baſe hypocriſy,
Affected reverence for a father's wrongs
Waſh out the ſtains that purple all my ſoul?
A father's wrongs! a fury's jealouſy.
Revenge deviſed the tale, and hell confirm'd it.
I felt no touch of filial piety.
Deluded man! now be thy anger juſt.
Why gleams that dagger idly in thy hand?
It reeks with precious blood. Here turn the point.
One drop from that dear ſtream mix'd in my veins
At leaſt will riſe, and plead in Heaven to ſpare me.
Sextus.
Wou'dſt thou then doubly dye my hands in murder,
To waſh out blood, by blood? Unhappy princeſs!
'Twere bleſſedneſs to die. The righteous gods
[41]Reſerve us both for heavier puniſhment.
Fruitleſs remorſe, and ever gnawing anguiſh
We muſt endure while mortal, and hereafter,
All hell will rouſe to wake new torments for us.
Vitellia.
Give me my juſt pre-eminence in woe.
Can friendſhip mourn like love. Too long I feign'd,
Struggled too long to hide the ſecret from thee
Deceived thee moſt, when moſt I ſeem'd to hate him.
Sextus.
'Tis well, 'tis well! let me feel all my horror.
Vitellia.
The firſt ſtrong paſſion of my ſoul was love,
Its firſt dear object, Titus. Burſt poor boſom!
All my fond heart could wiſh, my fancy form
Was heaven contriving for me. At the moment
My fatal frenzy urged thee to the deed
I was proclaim'd his empreſs. This curs'd day
Had ſeal'd him mine. Be merciful, and kill me,
Take pity on me heaven! it chokes devours me.
'Tis inſupportable. O Titus! Titus!
Sextus.
Is this the balm thou pour'ſt into my wounds,
Firſt raiſe the aſſaſſin's arm, and then deſpiſe him?
Tho' all the world ſhould caſt me forth with ſcorn,
Abhor, purſue me, thou ſhou'dſt ſtretch thy hand
And pour the balm of comfort o'er my anguiſh.
Vitellia.
What balm, what comfort can Vitellia give thee?
Aſk it from roaring ſeas, or burning Aetna,
Their rage is calm as ſlumb'ring infancy
[42]To the wild paſſion of this ſtormy breaſt.
Theſe hornet ſounds already buzz around me,
"An emperor might be ſpared, but not a Titus.
"The land juſt panting with recover'd breath,
"Raw from the laſh of gory tyranny.
"A balmy prince healing and merciful,
"Snatch'd from the bliſs of ſweet benevolence,
"To ſatiate an Alecto's jealous fury."
Sextus.
'Twas fear, 'twas phantom when I urged his virtues.
Vitellia.
Oh let us meet no more. Each time I view thee,
Again I ſeem to urge, he bleeds again.
Thou wert too quick, too ready to obey me.
Wou'd I had found ſome dilatory ſlave,
Inſenſible and cold. He wou'd have ſooth'd,
Promis'd, but not perform'd, ſaved me from crimes
Heaven's mercy can't abſolve, nor hell can puniſh.
Vitellia ruſhes out.
SEXTUS
alone.
All is accompliſh'd. I have paſs'd the brink
Of every hope and fear. Does ought remain?
Is there a friend to truſt, and be betray'd?
A miſtreſs to impel my hand to murder,
And then diſclaim, revile me, and avoid.
Ye thoughts that drive my whirling brain to madneſs,
Ye vengeful furies that beſiege my ſoul,
[43]I will not wait your tardy miniſtry,
But leap the gulph, and plunge at once to darkneſs.
Going to ſlab himſelf, Annius enters.
Annius.
Hold thy raſh hand. The emperor requires.
Sextus.
Requires my blood. He ſhall be ſatisfied.
Struggling.
Annius.
Requires to ſee thee—
Sextus.
Where, in heaven to ſee me?
No, thoſe bright portals are for ever bar'd.
There throned with demi-gods the hero ſits,
Nor bends his glorious eyes to earth and me.
But I am doom'd to tread the dreary realms
Where ſad Cocytus rolls his ſullen wave,
Where Phlegeton boils o'er with livid fires,
Where guilty ghoſts ſhall hiſs me from their haunts,
And yelling furies through the gloom purſue me.
Annius.
Thy reaſon is diſturb'd. Rouſe, rouſe for ſhame,
Decline not thus thy drooping brow to earth.
Why roll thy wandering eyes on vacant air
Shaping a hideous hoſt of threat'ning forms,
From the black coinage of diſtemper'd fancy?
Sextus.
Think'ſt thou, theſe horrors are fantaſtical?
I feel them here; here is ſubſtantial hell,
Here, ever whirling wheels, and gnawing vultures.
Striking his breaſt.
Annius.
Come baniſh in the emperor's embrace
[44]This gloomy brood of thick-eyed melancholy.
Now while the buſy throng ſurround his throne,
When even Indifference wears the face of zeal,
And feels, or feigns officious loyalty,
He wonders much thou art not by his ſide,
That thou cou'dſt leave him in the hour of peril.
Sextus.
That I cou'd leave him! how, is he not ſlain!
Annius.
Forbid it heaven! No, he returns unhurt,
Safe from the wild commotion.
Sextus.
Can it be!
Are my eyes falſe? Sure I beheld him fall,
Pierc'd by the aſſaſſin's dagger.
Annius.
Where beheld him?
Sextus.
In the frequented paſs that leads from hence
To the Flaminian.
Annius.
Then thy eyes deceived thee.
Some other in the throng and wild confuſion
Thy ſight miſtook for Titus.
Sextus.
How ſome other?
Say who cou'd dare to aſſume the imperial robe,
The ſacred laurel, and the ſovereign enſigns
Worn by the emperor only?
Annius.
Nay I know not.
But Titus lives (praiſe to kind heaven) unhurt.
I left him but this moment, and to ſeek thee.
Sextus.
Did I hear right? All gracious Jove I thank thee.
Falling on his knees.
[45]Sound it to lands remote, to air and ſkies,
Tranſporting word! again again repeat it!
Huſh'd be the winds! no accent breathe but this.
O much-loved prince! Unfold thy arms, receive me.
Thou ever kind and welcome! now more dear
Than all the bleſſings love cou'd ſhower upon me,
Running into his arms.
Teach me to bear this joy. Thou doſt not mock me?
Annius.
What ſtill incredulous! convince thyſelf.
Truſt thy own ſenſe, and ſee if I deceive thee.
This moment come before him.
Sextus.
Come before him!
Shew him the vile perfidious who betray'd him!
Annius.
Amazement!—Thou!
Sextus.
Yes I. 'Twas I betray'd him.
I, the prime mover of the foul ſedition,
The maſter daemon I. Go, get thee from me.
Contagion ſtrikes from my infectious touch,
My breath will blaſt thee.
Annius.
I am loſt in wonder.
Thou Sextus, thou betray the emperor!
Sextus.
Aſk me no more. Spare the reiteration.
One fatal moment Annius has undone me.
Farewell! a long, a laſt adieu to Rome.
Think ſometimes of thy friend, not what he is,
But what he was; and if his crimes will riſe
To blot the kind remembrance, oh forget not,
[46]Theſe bitter tears that ſcald his burning cheek,
How ſharp his ſufferings, how ſincere his ſorrow.
Annius.
This is indeed a dreadful cauſe for ſorrow.
Sextus.
Ay is it not, for never ceaſing ſorrow?
Farewell once more. I go for ever from thee
To mourn, and hide my guilt in ſolitude.
To fall by my own hand were cowardice.
May every God who ſees my deep remorſe
Guard him, whom I no more muſt dare to name.
Thou Annius! with thy courage and thy faith,
'Gainſt foreign danger, and domeſtic treaſon,
By day, by night, in peace, in war, defend him,
Defend him from the inconſtancy of Rome,
But moſt defend him from his treacherous friends.
Annius.
Another time explain this myſtery,
Now let me think. The plot is yet unknown.
The flames 'tis thought were ſpread by accident,
But thy precipitate flight, unhappy friend!
Will ſix on thee the ſtain.
Sextus.
What canſt thou counſel?
Annius.
Do not withdraw, but keep the ſecret cloſe.
Attend the emperor—think all paſs'd a dream,
When duſky ſpirits ruled the unwholeſome air,
And from their vaprous pinions dipt in Styx,
Shook phantoms round thy head.
Sextus.
The wounded wretch
[47](Whoe'er he was) that fell beneath the ſtroke
Ere this perhaps has given me up to ſhame.
Annius.
I'll to the place where you beheld him fall,
Examine who he was, and bring thee tidings
Of all that may concern thy life or ſafety.
Before the breaſt of Titus can admit
Suſpicion of thy faith, there will be time
To appriſe thee of the danger. Then withdraw,
Uncertain is the peril if you ſtay,
But certain, if you fly.
Sextus.
My ſcatter'd ſenſe
Scarce comprehends thy reaſon, tho' my heart
Acknowledges the kindneſs. Guide me Annius!
I go ſince you adviſe it.—But theſe cheeks
Stript of their wholeſome hue, theſe haggard eyes
Loud as the herald's throat will publiſh me.
Annius.
The leaſt delay may bring deſtruction now.
Sextus.
I go, this bloody mantle will betray me.
Annius.
Whence is that blood?
Sextus.
It ſpouted from the veins
Of the unhappy man I mourned for Titus.
Annius.
Hide it with ſtricteſt care from every eye.
Hold, as we paſs we may exchange our robes,
I will take thine, theſe crimſon drops waſh'd out
(My chamber's near) I'll meet thee with the emperor.
The preſence of a friend may bring thee comfort.
Sextus.
[48]
'Tis all I have left—wilt thou ſtill call me friend?
As juſt awaken'd from a hideous trance
The dreadful phantoms ſtill encompaſs me.
I tread with fear, and doubting every ſtep,
Am loſt in the delirium.
Annius.
Oh be gone.
END OF THIRD ACT.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace.—TITUS, CORNELIA.
Titus.
CONSPIRE againſt my life! ſaid you not ſo?
Cornelia.
Hoping my interceſſion might prevail
To obtain his pardon from your clemency,
One of the traitors made confeſſion full.
The man you know, and like the chief he follow'd
A worthleſs object of your frequent bounty:
Yet to be prais'd in this.
Titus.
[49]
Then Lentulus
Is guilty. That bad man, unfit for truſt,
Check'd by my power in his rapacity,
Wou'd wipe the memory out of paſt offence
But by tranſgreſſing deeper. In the account
Of foes like him I count my own deſert.
His enmity's a laurel. But what further?
Cornelia.
Lentulus, the impious Lentulus
Deviſed the enterpriſe, with mad deſign
To wreſt Rome's ſceptre from thy ſacred hand.
He ſired the capitol to raiſe the tumult,
And in the imperial robe and wreath expected
The giddy crowd, for ever fond of change,
And ever for the worſt, ſhou'd ſhout him up
A ſovereign for his plumage. But the robe,
(How juſt is heaven) aſſumed for thy perdition,
Aſſured his own. One of the deſperate band
Miſtaking the impoſtor for the prince,
Drench'd in the blood of Lentulus his ſteel,
Deceived but by that garment.
Titus.
Is he dead?
Cornelia.
Of that I'm yet to learn.
Titus.
Methinks 'tis ſtrange
They cou'd ſo long conceal the bold deſign.
Cornelia.
Oh generous prince! thou art not yet ſecure,
Treaſon is round thee. See this crimſon badge,
A riband ſuch as this binds up the robe
[50]O'er the right arm of every daring villain,
Shewing a riband.
Obſerve it, and be cautious.
Titus.
My fair friend!
Theſe are the joys of empire. Judge me Truth!
Have I not held my people's happineſs
Much dearer than my own, yet all my cares
Are ſown in barrenneſs, or ſhoot rank weeds
Choking the ſoil that nurs'd them. From my brow
One deſperate hand wou'd tear this hard-earn'd wreath
To wear it on his own, and ſtill more ſtrange
He finds abettors. Can it be in Rome?
Does Rome then hate thee, Titus?
Cornelia.
Think not ſo.
Think it a monſter which the matron Rome
'Gainſt Nature's courſe ſhook in convulſions forth,
Which when the ſtartled parent found to ſwell
With venom dangerous to her proper life
With her own hands ſhe ſtrangled.
Titus.
Heavenly Synod,
You know if I have ſerv'd her. You beheld
When on the banks of Iſter or of Nile,
Patient I felt the changing ſeaſon's rage,
Or ſcorch'd in ſultry Syria for her glory,
For her indulgence, cruel to myſelf,
I ſtifled my affections, baniſh'd from me
The firſt dear object of a mutual paſſion.
[51]And thus (my tears will fall) ingrateful Rome
Even thus am I requited.
Cornelia.
Never yet
Was man ſo vile, or enterprize ſo wild,
Scorn'd or deteſted by the general ſenſe,
As to want followers, from vice or folly,
Tho' hopeleſs ſtill the iſſue.
To them, SEXTUS.
Sextus.
Oh that face!
I dare not look upon it.
Titus.
Sextus welcome!
How oft have we reproved our ſatyriſts
For dark'ning Nature with black characters
Impreſs'd but by their ſpleen, nor could believe
The principles of ill ſo widely ſown
In human boſoms to give countenance
For ſuch irreverence 'gainſt our common parent.
But farewell now fond plauſibility,
Our milkineſs be henceforth turn'd to gall.
For wou'd'ſt thou think it, Titus is betray'd?
Sextus.
Alas too well I know it!
Aſide.
Titus.
Wou'd'ſt thou think
Titus is Rome's abhorrence. Thou canſt tell,
(For thou haſt viſited my inmoſt ſoul)
Have I deſerv'd to be abhor'd by Rome?
Sextus.
Abhor'd!
Titus.
Nay tell me friend.—
Sextus.
[52]
I cannot ſpeak.
Titus.
Thy tears ſpeak for thee. Come to my embrace
Why this is retribution, theſe conſole me,
Such tender proofs of thy unſhaken faith
For Rome's ingratitude.
Sextus.
I cannot bear it.
Aſide.
My ſilence is a ſecond treachery.
To them, VITELLIA.
Vitellia.
Ha! Sextus here, then all is ſecret yet.
Aſide.
Sextus.
I will ſhake off this load.
Aſide.
Vitellia.
Victorious Caeſar!
Advancing.
The gods ſtill guard thee! this auſpicious hour
Thy country 'midſt her happieſt regiſters
Shall keep enroll'd for ever. Our glad altars
When the revolving ſun renews this day,
Smoke with rich incenſe, and large hecatombs,
Atteſting thee preſerv'd, and heaven propitious.
Titus.
Thanks for this pious wiſh! yet truſt me princeſs
Nor life, nor empire do I prize ſo high
To think them worth a ſtruggle for themſelves.
Let heaven reclaim my life, and Rome her empire
Thankful for their ſhort date, I will reſign them.
But go my Sextus, in the emperor's name
Send to their homes the aſtoniſh'd citizens.
Tell them the danger's paſt, and thank their love
That made my ſafety their peculiar care
[53]When peril was to all as imminent.
That done, return. A grateful labour, Sextus,
Bears its own thanks.
Sextus.
Oh Janus, what an office!
Aſide.
Exit Sextus.
At the oppoſite door enter ANNIUS, in the robe of SEXTUS.
Annius.
Order reſumes its place, the flames are quell'd,
But wou'd our gilded palaces had choked
Their maſters with their aſhes, ere the ſhame
Of ſpreading them to catch the life of Titus
Had ſtain'd our annals. Therefore, Sir! take heed.
There are who ſeek thy death.
Titus.
Too plain I ſee it.
I read it with broad eyes, yet ſtill my heart
Combats the witneſs, and wou'd fain diſprove
The palpable conviction of their ſenſe.
While you like an ambiguous ſorcerer,
Shew me at once my fate, and warn againſt it.
'Tis paſt all doubt—Cornelia, look, behold!
The very badge, the traitorous enſign ſee
Hangs on the arm of Annius.
Cornelia.
Ha, it blinds me.
Titus.
Too plain, too plain. The very form, the colour.
Vitellia.
He in our league! I have deſtroyed him too.
Aſide.
Cornelia.
[54]
Traitor!
Annius.
Amazement, and from thee Cornelia.
Titus.
And wou'd'ſt thou ſhed my blood, my ſon, my Annius.
Annius.
Sooner let furies ſeize, or lightning blaſt me!
Titus.
Diſſembling now is vain. That crimſon flag,
That bluſhing ſymbol, is the kindred badge
Of perfidy and murder.
The riband on the robe of Annius
Annius.
This, what's this?
You make me wonder. By my ſoul I ſwear
I know of no device this ſilk contains.
Vitellia.
Diſtraction comes for thought. O pitying powers!
Aſide.
Suggeſt ſome lucky artifice to ſave him.
Annius.
But Sir forgive my honeſt indignation!
My conſcious innocence aſſumes the licence.
Had any tongue—but thine—thus dared to accuſe me,
I ſhou'd not tamely ſtand to expoſtulate,
Nor put my well tried truth on affirmation,
But my quick ſword had ſtarted from my ſide,
And ſtab'd the lie in the foul ſlanderer's throat.
Titus.
The injured muſt complain, nor wou'd I check
A decent freedom in the meaneſt tongue.
Such paſſion ſhou'd have praiſe with honeſty.
Yet think not loudneſs can outorganize
The ſilent crimination of that ſilk.
Why doſt thou wear it?
Annius.
[55]
Wear it Sir? this ſilk?
Unhappy friend! No Sextus I will ſpare thee.
Aſide.
Vitellia.
Oh that the earth wou'd yawn, and ſwal⯑low me!
Aſide.
Titus.
'Tis manifeſt. Guilt chokes his utterance.
Vitellia.
Heart, heart be ſtill. Thy throbbing will betray me.
Aſide.
Titus.
Cornelia pity me. All men but me
Make friends by bounties. When I pray the Gods,
I muſt not pray againſt mine enemies
Who meet me in the glittering files of war,
But that the boſom of the friend I cheriſh,
And ſtrain to mine, may not hide daggers 'gainſt me,
That every benefit my hand confers,
By transformation moſt unnatural,
Become not, like the ooze of ebbing Nile
A bed to engender aſps and crocodiles.
Cornelia.
Meduſa's ſever'd head, that brew'd a peſt
With every drop that fell, produced no fang,
No viper keen as this ingratitude.
Titus.
May thunder ſtrike me, if I wou'd not rather
Had I unnumber'd lives at once reſign them,
Than hold one fitful feveriſh being thus
With ſuch vile thoughts, and ſuch deteſted caution.
Vitellia.
Oh for an age of bliſs, I'd not endure
Aſide.
The hell of this diſtraction in my boſom.
Titus.
Now own the improvidence of perſidy.
[56]If trifles make men jealous, oftener ſtill
Trifles betray the deep concerted wile
With all black powers of night evoked to hide it.
Behold him there, the lover for whoſe arms
Thy conſtancy refuſed Rome's diadem.
Cornelia.
Oh add not to my ſorrow. On this cheek
Deep glows the unextinguiſhable ſhame
Which that proud front ſtill bold and unabaſh'd,
Tho' native to his crime, diſdains to wear.
Titus.
Yet anſwer me, ſay moſt ungrateful man!
How could thy boſom harbour the foul thought,
To murder him who loved thee? Anſwer me.
Annius.
Appearances condemn me. Let your wiſdom
Againſt this fluttering frivolous levity,
the riband,
Weigh the whole tenor of my life, my truth
Proteſted ſtrongly, this encreaſing wonder
That almoſt ſtrangles utterance, then determine
Which ſcale preponderates.
Titus.
So may it prove.
Publius, I grieve to ſee his conſcious pangs.
My preſence doubles his diſtreſs and ſhame.
See him ſecured: and ſtraight inſtruct the ſenate
To examine his deſign, and find its ſource.
I leave thee to thy heart, a keener monitor
Than my reproaches, which henceforth I ſpare thee.
Proportion but thy ſorrow to thy ſin,
[57]And life will prove thy heavieſt puniſhment.
Exit Titus. Publius ſigns to an Officer who puts chains on Annius, and exit.
Remain ANNIUS, VITELLIA and CORNELIA.
Annius.
All is not loſt, thou ever kind and gentle,
My reſt, my harbour from the ſtorms of fate!
My tempeſt beaten boſom flies to thee,
And longs to be enfolded by thy ſoftneſs.
What means this ſcorn?
Cornelia.
Away, and come not near me
Unleſs thou mean'ſt ſtill deeper to impreſs,
My rooted deteſtation. Witneſs Dian!
Had fortune emptied her whole quiver on thee
Stript thee of wealth and honours, chang'd thy form
(Thus goodly as it is) to loathſome foulneſs,
My conſtancy had triumph'd o'er her malice,
And woes on woes had more endear'd thee to me,
But now to love thee, treacherous, baſe, ungrateful,
Were to forget myſelf, renounce my honour,
And make me ſhare the perſidy I ſcorn.
Exit Cornelia.
ANNIUS, VITELLIA,
Annius.
Yet innocent, I will abide it all.
Princeſs you gaze as I were dangerous,
Yet ſeeming, not reality, confounds me.
As from the eclipſe of black ſurrounding clouds
The ſun's effulgence breaks with double luſtre
[58]So ſhall my truth caſt off this veil of ſhame,
And ſhine more bright from baſe obſcurity.
Vitellia.
O rank not me with thoſe obdurate hearts
Which always frail, and often hypocrite,
Leſs adverſe to the crime, than the detection,
Wou'd ſharpen hard affliction's keeneſt pang
As they were charter'd againſt mortal frailty.
I have a thouſand things to ſay to thee,
I ſtaid not to upbraid, but give thee comfort.
Know Annius!
To them, SEXTUS entering.
Sextus.
Bear me whirlwinds to his feet.
Hold on your lives—Off with theſe ſhameful bonds
Shall truth and honour walk thus manacled,
While treaſon roams at large. That robe was mine,
The guilt is mine. Be quick ye tardy ſlaves!
Fix your vile fetters here—
Vitellia.
Be patient Sextus!
(He heeds me not.) Theſe have no power to free him.
Officer.
My lord, the conſuls ſend to ſummon us
To the aſſembled ſenate.
Annius.
Lead me to them.
Thou ſee'ſt what I endure. Puſh'd to the brink,
I kept thy fatal ſecret. If 'tis poſſible
Save thy own life, but O preſerve my honour.
Exit Annius guarded.
[59] Remain SEXTUS, VITELLIA.
Sextus.
Off, let me paſs.
To Vitellia who holds him.
Vitellia.
Yet hold a little moment
Sextus.
Is't not enough? What, not yet ſatisfied?
Vitellia.
Oh do not waſte theſe precious hours in ſtrife,
But fly this moment, and by flight preſerve
Thy life, and poor Vitellia's.
Sextus.
How! by flight?
And leave my guiltleſs friend expoſed to ruin.
Vitellia.
I will preſerve thy friend. Frame thou the form
Of any ſolemn oath, be heaven and hell
Atteſted for its ſanction, bind me down
To pains on earth, to Tartarus hereafter,
Write it in blood, my own blood, boiling blood,
May my remaining hours be more accurs'd,
The pangs more ſharp than thoſe I ſuffer now,
May I be ſtill more wretched.—
Sextus.
No, I ſtir not,
While the rais'd ſword hangs threatning o'er his head.
What leave him in this dire extremity,
The forfeit of my crime?
Vitellia.
How ſhall I ſwear?
By heaven, by all my hopes I will preſerve him.
Sextus.
But what avails my flight?
Vitellia.
Is that a queſtion?
[60]My honour and thy life are both ſecure.
Diſcovery muſt deſtroy thee, and my ſecret
Becomes as public as the capitol.
Sextus.
No, fear not. By my life, and all things ſacred,
Here ſhall it reſt, deep buried in my boſom,
To death I will conceal it.
Vitellia.
I cou'd truſt thee,
If leſs thy love to Titus. 'Gainſt his rigour
Thy courage wou'd ſuſtain thee. But his mercy,
His gentleneſs and friendſhip muſt ſubdue,
And melt thy ſoul to weakneſs. Hear, oh hear me!
By the dear memory of the firſt ſoft hours
That charm'd thy ſoul to fondneſs, by our loves,
By all thy hopes hold dear, I beg thee fly,
Confirm my fluttering heart. I owe thee much,
O make me more thy debtor, 'tis the boon,
The mightieſt thy affection can beſtow,
Or mine accept: It gives me peace and honour.
See on my knees I ſupplicate. Oh Sextus!
Kneels.
Let me prevail;—can'ſt thou behold me thus,
See theſe uplifted hands, theſe ſtreaming eyes?
Sextus.
Wou'd we had never met, our deſtinies
Raiſing her.
Had ſlept divided centuries aſunder.
But fate ordain'd us, dreadful inſtruments
To toil together in one Stygian web,
[61]And in the texture weave our own deſtruction:
Vitellia.
Oh impotence of wiſhes! what avail they!
The child, the dotard's waſte of hours unpriz'd,
Who was e'er wiſe or happy for a wiſh?
Will they recall time paſt, ſecure my honour,
Seal up the ſenate's ears, or break thy fall,
When the grim lictor drags thee to the rock,
(Thy mildeſt doom) to hurl thee down for ever.
Sextus.
Thy counſels have been ever fatal to me,
And ſhall I truſt them now? My deafen'd ears
Still ring with thy reproach, thy love avow'd
Even for the man you rais'd my arm to murder.
Vitellia.
Theſe were the raſh effuſions of deſpair
The laſt I e'er ſhall utter. From this hour
Let peace and gentleneſs unite our hearts.
Sorrow and ſhame have ſo ſubdued me ſince
Scarce have I power enough to aſk forgiveneſs
Yet liſten to my ſuit. Thy ſoften'd eyes
Beam ſweet compliance. Yes thou doſt conſent,
I read it in thy looks, thy ſoft'ning brow.
Turn not away, ſay do my hopes deceive me?
With my heart's wings ſpread over thee I wait.
Pity my anguiſh! Speak, oh ſpeak and eaſe me.
Sextus.
I can forgive my wrongs, and mourn thy ſorrow
I wou'd obey thee too, but my poor friend,
My generous Annius, he forbids my flight,
[62]Bids me ſuſtain a thouſand lingering deaths
Rather than poorly fly, and let him periſh.
Vitellia.
Inexorable ſtill! then take thy fate.
My fears were moſt for thee. I have a heart
Can give bold counſel in extremity,
A hand can execute. And each reſolv'd
This dagger ends our ſtrife.
Draws a dagger.
Sextus.
For pity hold!
Depend upon my faith—again I ſwear
No torture from my breaſt ſhall wring the ſecret.
To them, PUBLIUS, with a guard.
Publius.
I grieve at the ſad office, but my duty
Requires that I demand that dangerous ſword.
Sextus.
Why doſt thou aſk it?
Publius.
Know unhappy man!
Fierce Lentulus ſtill lives. You gueſs the reſt.
Vitellia.
Oh death to all my hopes!
Aſide.
Sextus.
The toils are round me.
Seeſt thou Vitellia?
Publius.
I muſt lead thee hence.
Already are the ſenators aſſembled,
To ſentence or acquit thee. 'Tis my charge
To bring thee to the trial. With reluctance
Unfelt before muſt I fulfill the office.
Follow me this way.
Exit Publius.
VITELLIA, SEXTUS.
Vitellia.
Thou ſelf ſacrificed!
[63]A moment might have ſaved thee. Now 'tis paſs'd,
Farewell, this one embrace, 'tis all I have left,
For the vaſt ruin I have brought down on thee.
Sextus.
O if prolong'd, 'twou'd make death ſmile, Vitellia!
Once I had fame and honour, both are loſt,
And 'tis but ſit, my life ſhou'd follow them.
Exit guarded.
VITELLIA,
alone.
Oh moſt compleatly wretched! ſwallow'd quick
All the proud ſtructure of my towering hopes.
Love, glory, empire to the centre ſink,
And leave me whelm'd in infamy and horror.
Hark, the invenomed whiſper ſpreads around.
My ſhame becomes the tale of babbling Rome.
Lo, Sextus drags me to the bloody bar,
And awful Titus by my rage devoted,
Mounts his tribunal, and to death conſigns me,
Then, ſince thy frantic jealouſy cou'd riſe
To mock at danger, and to ſpurn all laws,
Let one bold frenzy ſoar a nobler height,
Cut ſhort the ſpecious forms of tardy juſtice,
And ſatiate hell with voluntary blood.
Exit.
END OF FOURTH ACT.

ACT V.

[64]
SCENE I.
Apartment of VITELLIA.
VITELLIA,
alone.
NO reſt for the unhappy! Sleep forſakes me.
What a craz'd monſter is Conſpiracy!
Slumbers diſtracted, and unreliſh'd food,
The bright day cheerleſs, and unbleſs'd the night,
Anger, ſuſpicion, fear, and jealouſy,
Recrimination, dangerous confidence,
A foe in every eye, detection ſounding
From hollow caverns, and viewleſs winds.
Stocks, ſtones, and nature's baſeſt vermin tribes
Endued with organs to proclaim the offence,
And hiſs the treaſon to ſure puniſhment.
Break ope the chambers of a fury's den,
And find the inſide of Conſpiracy.
To VITELLIA, ZANTHIA.
I ſent thee to the Senate. Thy ſad looks
Like ſorrow's uſhers, ere I hear thy tale
Bid me forbode the worſt—Nay dry thine eyes.
Deſpair in this is bleſs'd, 'tis the dead calm
Of miſery's conſummation.—Zanthia ſpeak!
Zanthia.
[65]
Forgive my tears, the awful ſpectacle
Still ſhakes my very ſoul.—Think you beheld
The populous city pour forth all its ſwarms,
To cluſter in the forum. The robed fathers
As if they ſat not judges of the crime,
But pale and anxious were themſelves arraign'd,
Even breathing ſeem'd ſuppreſs'd by expectation,
And every eyeball ſhot beyond its ſphere.
Vitellia.
Shall I hear more, or bid thee ſpare the reſt?
My boaſted reſolution dies within me,
And like an untrain'd ſoldier ere the ſight
Shrinks at the diſtant ſounding of the charge.
But tell me all—I wiſh, yet dread to hear thee.
Zanthia.
Soon was the unhappy youth, mournful, abaſh'd,
Remorſe, not fear, ſtamp'd on his gracious viſage,
(His pale cheek reſting on his iron chain)
Led forth to judgment, while his ſtern accuſer
With eyes all fire, tho' feeble from his wound,
Flung heavy treaſons on him.
Vitellia.
Oh that tyger!
Raſh incapacity! yet driving ever
The wiſer who ſhou'd guide him to their ruin,
Name him no more,—but Sextus.
Zanthia.
Meek and ſad,
He neither ſtrove to palliate or deny,
But earneſt beg'd, as all the guilt was his,
[66]He, only he, might 'bide the puniſhment.
Vitellia.
O ancient honour! O true Roman heart,
Worthy thy firm forefather, Regulus!
Speak on, ſpeak on! let every word you utter,
Strike daggers here, and fruſtrate this my hand,
Reſolved to give him juſtice.
Zanthia.
When the conſul
With faltering voice pronounced his dreadful doom.
Vitellia.
Be brief, and tell me what.
Zanthia.
Moſt horrible!
My blood runs cold to name it. On the Arena
By ravenous lions to be torn alive.
Vitellia.
Barbarians! monſters! why revile the ſenate?
They ſentence but the crime, I made him guilty.
Haſt thou more torture for me?
Zanthia.
Thus condemn'd,
A general groan, as if the mingled throng
Had but one breaſt, ſhook all the ſpacious dome.
In copious ſtreams tears guſh'd from every eye,
He only unappall'd, with modeſt grace
In reverent ſilence bow'd to own their juſtice.
The aſſembly riſing, his attendant guard
Led him to Caeſar, who has ſince confirmed
The ſentence of the fathers, and this hour
Ill-fated Sextus dies.
Vitellia.
Led him to Caeſar!
Then Hope's laſt ray is quench'd, my ſhame reveal'd,
[67]His fate inevitable. Baſtard conſcience!
That dreading the detection, urged the deed.
Repentance for a child!—enough, retire!
Zanthia.
Pardon your faithful ſlave, I dare not leave you.
There is a deadly fixture in your eye,
Beſpeaks ſome fatal purpoſe.
Vitellia.
Yes moſt fatal.
And all the world like thee ſhould kneel in vain
To alter my reſolves.—Be near and wait me.
Exit Zanthia.
VITELLIA,
alone.
Alone he ſhall not die, the means are near me.
My father when his ſun 'gan to decline,
And fate's black cloud hung on the eve of life,
Gave me a phial, bad me treaſure it.
"Daughter (he cried) againſt adverſity,
"That cordial will deſend thee. Wait not girl!
"To be ſwept off like rubbiſh from the world,
"Nor drink as I have done, the dregs of Fortune."
Prophetic Dowry! to thy deſtined aim
My extremity ſhall uſe thee. World adieu!
And you immortal rulers of the ſky,
Who thro' the abyſs roll'd this huge globe of earth,
Call'd light from darkneſs, and made viſible
The gorgeous ſun, with thoſe bright orbs of ſire
That nightly glitter round the glowing pole,
[68]Accept my ſpirit, ſend one glorious beam
To cheer my laſt farewell to light and life.
Zanthia come forth! ſupport me to my cloſet,
Thy ſervice ſoon will end.
To her, ZANTHIA.
Zanthia.
My gracious miſtreſs?
Do I again behold thee, ſafe, unhurt?
Vitellia.
Zanthia, there are unnumber'd ways to death,
And I have choſen a ſure one.—Huſh, no tears.
Wonder, not grief, muſt grace my obſequies.
Exeunt.
Scene Changes.
CORNELIA, ANNIUS following.
Cornelia.
Support me, ſave me! Oh eternal powers
What have my eyes beheld?
Annius.
Heart thou art ſtone,
Elſe thou wou'd'ſt burſt at this.
Cornelia.
Is this their love?
O thou vile city, that but yeſterday
Caſt forth thy tribes to ſhout him to the ſky,
Deaf'ning the ears of Jove, now to the Circus
To ſee him mangled, his poor heart torn out,
They fly as volleying ſires purſued their ſpeed,
Nor caſt one look behind.
Annius.
[69]
His blood this hour
Will glut their ſavage curioſity.
The ſurly keepers by the ſenate's order
From the gaunt lions hold their wonted food
To whet their fierceneſs for the barbarous meal.
I ſaw their glaring eyes, heard the deep growl
Portentous of the carnage they expected.
Cornelia.
I am moſt miſerible. My exulting heart
Beat high with joy to find thee innocent,
But oh I little thought, a huſband's honour
Cou'd be redeem'd but by a brother's death.
Is no way left to ſave him?
Annius.
None but one,
And that he has rejected. I was preſent,
A weeping witneſs of the interview.
Soften'd almoſt to tears the gracious prince
By the dear memory of their early friendſhip,
By duty, faith and gratitude adjured him
To make a full confeſſion of the cauſe
Which wrought him to the attempt. By ſuch compliance
Deep in oblivion to entomb offence,
And give him back the wonted place he held,
Firſt in his ſoul's affection.
Cornelia.
Cou'd my brother
Hear it unmoved?
Annius.
Oh no, his ſtreaming eyes,
His breaſt convuls'd with paſſion, deep fetch'd groans,
[70]Proclaim'd th' unutterable agony.
Proſtrate to earth he fell, avow'd his crime,
And in the frantic vehemence of grief
Call'd bleſſings on his injured maſter's head,
And curſes on his own. But to reveal
The cauſe of his revolt, nor threats, nor prayers,
Favor, nor life, nor fear of death could move him.
Cornelia.
Then what remains for me. I vainly hoped
A ſiſter's tears might move him. From our infancy
The tendereſt union twined our hearts in love.
Like bloſſoms from one parent ſtock we grow,
Put forth the opening buds of youth together,
And both at once muſt wither. Oh believe it!
So dear, ſo vital is my fondneſs for him
To ſave my brother's blood I'd meet pale death
And claſp him like a bridegroom. My next hope
Was in the emperor's pity, he alas
Forbids my interceſſion.
Annius.
Never ſaw I
Paſſion ſo ſhake him. His laſt wrathful words,
(I hear their thunder ſtill) "hence to thy doom,
"Unnatural were thy deeds, thy end be dreadful."
Cornelia.
I rack my thoughts in vain. Yet oh I know
Were he not bound by ſome deluſive tie
Of ſpurious honour to this fatal ſilence,
His ſoul wou'd yield to friendſhip's ſympathy,
[71]Nor hide this ſecret canker which within
Conſumes his life in ſilence.
Annius.
Thine too with it.
But when were crimes confined in conſequence?
Yet leave me nought untried. Go ſeek the emperor,
Again embrace his knees, ſhew thy ſad eyes.
There is in woman's tears a melting power,
Man's nature can't attain, nor man reſiſt.
Perhaps he may relent.
Cornelia.
He muſt, he ſhall.
God of perſuaſion! with prevailing ſounds
Endue thy ſuppliant's tongue, ſuch as may wreſt
The brandiſh'd bolt from this imperial Jove,
Quench the red lightning of his terrible eye,
And for the fiery ſhaft of ruthleſs ire,
Infuſe ſweet peace, and melting clemency.
Exeunt.
[72]SCENE—The Circus.
TITUS, PUBLIUS, Senators, Lictors, Guards, &c.—LENTULUS and other Conſpirators in Chains at the bottom of the Stage.—ANNIUS and CORNELIA fol⯑lowing TITUS.
Titus
Before the games begin, lead Sextus hither.
Cornelia & Annius.
Oh thou, whoſe godlike nature ne'er in vain
Kneeling together.
Affliction kneel'd to, at your feet behold—
Titus.
Cornelia riſe. Think not the ſoul of Caeſar
Keeps one unſhaken tenor, while thy breaſt
Is heav'd with anguiſh, or that thick rib'd ice
Surrounds a heart cold and inſenſible,
Not to be thaw'd but by the melting power
Of drops from woman's eyes.
Cornelia.
Oh for my brother
Let my tears ſtream for ever, the cold ground
Be channel'd by my knees, no accent heard
But my perpetual prayer.
Titus.
A ſoundleſs voice
Beyond the tongues of Rome's beſt orators,
Geſture, or Hybla periods, here within
[73]Pleads for him deep, ſo truſt me, all offence
'Gainſt Titus is abſolv'd.
Cornelia.
Why then with all
Is he abſolv'd, for you and only you
Has he offended.—
Titus.
With the emperor,
The abſtract of Rome's ſtate and majeſty,
Who chiefly ſtands reſponſive for her weal
Some commutation muſt be made for mercy.
Improvident to leave a noxious ſpring
To burſt out on the general health, unſearch'd,
Would ill become my prudence, or my fanctions.
Obſerve him, pray be ſilent.
Sextus brought forward by Publius.
Cornelia.
For a moment—
But for a little moment.—Oh my brother!
Seize now the trembling criſis of thy fate.
Caſt from thy ſoul this obſtinate diſeaſe,
This vice of honour, ſhameful in the extreme.
Oaths with the wicked, in themſelves are void,
What's holy made unholy, heaven adjur'd
Againſt itſelf. It cannot be in reaſon,
In virtue leſs;—diſclaim it, oh diſclaim it,
Or reprobate at once both truth and wiſdom.
Titus.
Once more we meet. The ſenate have con⯑demn'd thee,
To a ſore puniſhment. Rome's peace diſturb'd,
[74]Offended majeſty, the laws infringed,
Friendſhip betray'd. Both earth and heaven cry out
For juſtice on thee.
Sextus.
Both ſhall be appeas'd.
Make my dire ſentence ſtill more horrible.
Oh had I lives unnumber'd as thy virtues,
And all paid down, how poor the expiation!
Titus.
Then hear my laſt award. Publius go thou
Pronounce to Lentulus, and his followers,
Forgiveneſs, life, and freedom. Romans mark:
I know, I pardon, and forget their crimes.
Cornelia.
How my heart throbs! O Gods look down on Sextus.
Titus.
I would not mix thee with the common herd
To Sextus.
The ſubjects of the ſtate, not Caeſar's friends,
But wiſhing to reſtore thee to my heart
Wou'd make thee worthy of it.
Sextus.
That vaſt treaſure,
Loſt in a ſea of guilt, and ſunk for ever,
No more muſt call me maſter.
Titus.
One condition
So oft propoſed, even now accept from Titus,
And if in all our days of life to come
One ſemblance of enſtrangement from my brow
Reprove thee by its coldneſs, call me loudly
Vindictive, baſe—aſcribe the good I mean thee,
[75]Not to my kindneſs, but my fear to puniſh.
Sextus.
New torture, new diſtraction! how deter⯑mine
Aſide.
My ſilence will offend the generous prince,
And if I ſpeak, I muſt deſtroy Vitellia.
Titus.
Have you a care more inſtant than your life?
Have you a bond more ſacred than your duty?
Have you a friend more cordial than your prince?
What no reply? Is then my pity for thee
Not worth the ſtooping for? take heed raſh man
Wake not again my anger.
Cornelia.
Sextus! brother!
Pull not the unwilling thunder on thy head,
But ſtop it yet ſuſpended.
Sextus.
Extrication
Aſide.
Is moſt impoſſible. I cannot, 'tis in vain.
Titus.
Proceed!
What doſt thou mean to tell me?
Sextus.
That the fates,
Avenging fates have hurl'd their curſes on me.
That I no longer can ſuſtain the load
Of my ſad deſtiny, that I proclaim myſelf,
A traitor, villain, that I merit death,
And as the laſt, the greateſt boon implore it.
Cornelia.
Not all the gods can ſave him.
Titus.
From this hour
All preſſures of affection quit my breaſt,
[76]Make it a plate of iron, no ſoft touch
To leave a print more than the reptile's trail
Wiped off with ſcorn and loathing. Armed files
Obſervant of my danger watch my ſteps,
Place them around my table and my couch,
My food be taſted, all my chambers ſearch'd,
For kindneſs is a fool, dulleyed and dim,
Loſing the dolt who truſts him.
Annius.
Emperor!
Titus.
Away, away! I ſhall miſtruſt myſelf,
Suſpect my head may plot againſt my heart,
My hand be arm'd 'gainſt both. My nature's frame
Is wrench'd by this convulſion.
Sextus.
Death's worſt pang
To Cornelia.
In his enkindled wrath I have proved already,
Then welcome all to come.
Titus.
Hear me ungrateful!
Tho' juſtice well might bid thy treacherous blood
Stream o'er theſe ſands, and from her ſteady throne
Unſhaken hear thee howling, yet for theſe
(Unworthy as thou art) who mourn thy folly,
I ſpare thy life, but from my ſight for ever,
From the wide precincts of imperial Rome
I baniſh thee. Approach no more this city,
Nor me thy injured maſter, elſe thy life
[77]With treble vengeance pays the diſobedience.
Sue not in vain, for by Olympian Jove!
To Cornelia.
This ſtands immutable.—Publius lead on!
VITELIA, entering attended by ZANTHIA.
Vitellia.
Stand off, and give me way. This is no time,
For forms and maiden coldneſs. View me Rome,
Behold the bridal of your deſtin'd empreſs
New pomp, new triumphs wait your new Auguſta
No Hymen now ſhall wave his ſprightly torch,
Nor choral virgins ſtrew my paths with flowers
But the fell ſiſters wind the thin ſpun thread,
And death and horror deck my funeral couch.
Titus.
Whence is that voice, that makes my boſom's chords
Turning.
Vibrate its mournful muſic? ha, our empreſs.
Vitellia.
Where is the ſenate that condemn'd young Sextus?
Where he, who durſt accuſe him? turn to me
Ye undiſcerning judges. Saw ye not
A woman's rage, a woman's jealouſy
Kindled this brand of diſcord.
Titus.
Do I wake?
Sure the red Sirius from his fiery orb
Scattering contagious frenzy thro' the air,
Has ſmote the general reaſon. All's infection.
Vitellia.
[78]
Oh Sextus, Sextus! groveling at thy feet,
Thus proſtrate on the ground let me approach thee,
Pardon thy murdreſs, whoſe fleeting ſoul
Juſt hovers at her lips, to catch that ſound,
And ſoon in night's eternal ſhade ſhall join thee.
Sextus.
Stop this wild frenzy, to the world proclaim not.—
Vitellia.
O glorious frenzy! wou'd this feeble voice,
Were loud as Jove in thunder, that the poles,
The high rais'd heaven might hear me. I proclaim
Your cruel ſentence void. Can they condemn
The obedient hand, the ſenſeleſs inſtrument,
And let the forming head, the prompting heart,
That inſtigate the crime paſs by unpuniſh'd?
Such Sextus is, the hand of my device.
By love well feign'd, by Syren ſlattery,
By tears, by ſoothing, every wile I wrought him,
To plot his maſter's death. Is Sextus guilty?
No I, and only I. Revoke his doom.
If Roman blood muſt gorge your lions maws
Caſt forth Vitellia to them.
Titus.
Both I look at,
Till wonder ſtifles anger.—Thou Vitellia
With rancorous hate to raiſe the aſſaſſin's arm
Againſt my life!
Vitellia.
[79]
Far dearer than my own.
Thy native inborn gentleneſs deceived me,
And heighten'd kindneſs to a warmer flame:
Oh 'tis the weakneſs of o'erweening love,
To think a paſſion mutual, where 'tis hoped.
I hoped thy hand, thy throne, but twice poſtponed
I cou'd not bear the affront, and ſought thy ruin.
I had no ſex, my heart was adamant.
Titus.
Then thus the long ſought myſtery's reveal'd,
And thou the cauſe of all. Reſtore his ſword.
The guilt which ſprung from love I pardon freely,
And thus embrace thee for that perilous honour
That nobly riſk'd thy life, and braved my anger..
Embracing Sextus.
Vitellia.
Then I have ſaved him! every bounteous God,
On that forgiving head ſend bleſſings down,
May laurel'd victory grace thy arms in war,
And peace in ſoft ſecurity enfold thee.
For me, a draught of deadly aconite
Winds its cold current thro my freezing veins:
Sextus farewell! this ſerpent drinks my blood.
Caeſar, I die.
Sextus.
What's this? her quivering lips
Grow pale, her gleaming eyes.
Vitellia.
Shoot their laſt ſires,
[80]Ere this I had been duſt, but hope to ſave
Thy forfeit life, like a ſtrong antidote
A little while kept in the ſtruggling ſoul.
Titus.
Poiſon'd?
Zanthia.
Too ſure, and by her own raſh hand.
Vitellia.
A father's gift, more dear than life he gave me.
Titus.
Unhappy fair one!
Vitellia.
Oh, let none lament me.
I was not form'd for happineſs on earth.
Downy it reſts on the ſoft textur'd mind,
Repelled from throbbing ſenſibility.
Paſſions too ſtrong, a pride implacable,
Had kept me reſtleſs, even with all I wiſh'd.
One glance from thee to any other woman
(Had I once call'd thee mine) had fired my brain
To ſome mad act, to end like this, in ruin.
Light ſwims before me—Titus!—Oh farewell.
Dies.
Titus.
Sextus, deluſion's victim! this way turn!
My heart once more is open to receive thee.
Let friendſhip's gentler, ſteadier flame diſpel
The ſad remembrance of that fatal paſſion.
Sextus.
May the black hour when firſt my heart con⯑ceived it
Be blotted from the Roman calendar.
Or if it circles with the round of time,
[81]Diſaſters mark it. All things thought or done
In that ill ſeaſon, like my luckleſs love,
Find ſhame their iſſue, till the dire increaſe
Of multiplied diſtractions, end like this
In blindfold rage, and deſperate ſelf deſtruction.
Stabs himſelf.
Cornelia.
Horror on horror! Annius! Publius, all!
Arreſt his furious arm. He bleeds, he dies.
Titus.
All but this blow, I cou'd have pardon'd Sextus.
This deed was all thy own, it proudly ſpurns
The life my friendſhip gave, my heart rejoiced in.
Sextus.
My prince, my friend! my father! bene⯑factor!
Moſt dear by every name, tho' wrong'd in all.
Aſk thy great heart, cou'd I ſurvive this ſhame?
Has not this gazing city ſeen me ſhackled,
Heard me pronounced a traitor, doom'd to die,
And worſe than death, have not my deeds deſerv'd it?
There was no way but this. I can no more.
Oh wou'd the darkneſs that invites my eyes
Might hide my name for ever. Oh.
dies.
Annius.
He's gone!
wringing his hands.
Titus.
Annius! I owe more tears to that pale corpſe
Than Rome ſhall ſee me ſhed. Break off the games.
[82]Let every ſad and honourable rite
Hallow their urns. Farewell ill fated pair!
My ſorrow ſhall embalm your memory,
And with your aſhes, be your frailties buried.
Curtain falls.
FINIS.

Appendix A EPILOGUE.

[]
SUCH is the force of cuſtom's powerful ſway
An Epilogue muſt finiſh every play,
But when, or where, or why the mode began,
Tell it ſome ſtage-read ſcholar, if he can.
I know enough for me, that 'tis the faſhion,
Which governs this, and every other nation.
And yet to try with ſome poor paltry jeſt
To chaſe all tragic feelings from the breaſt,
Appears to my weak judgment, let me own,
Like filling of the pail, to kick it down.
Nor leſs abſurd than if ſome beauteous queen
With mantle flowing and majeſtic mein,
More admiration of her charms to gain
Shou'd chuſe a Monkey to bear up her train.
Pray tell would Handel's oratorio's pleaſe
If clos'd with Bobbin Joan, or Butter'd Peas?
Yet ſince the tyrant cuſtom bids us try,
To make you laugh, whom we before made cry,
I wiſh with all my heart our Proteus poet
Had rhym'd me ſomething merry that would do it.
[]No matter what, of homely Gills, or Jacks,
Or Beaux with ſpider legs, and lizard backs.
How the bold ſpirit of the modern dame
Throned in her car, drives the high road to fame,
While more delight the labour can afford,
To rule four courſers, than obey one lord.
Behold, incumbent o'er her ponies backs,
The ſounding laſh our female Jehu ſmacks,
Thro' her ſmall fingers plys her ſkilful reins,
And cheers the nags with hoarſe equeſtrian ſtrains.
"Gee Rainbow, Peacock, Button, gee along
Then ſquares her elbows, and confounds the throng
While her ſoft boſom too robuſtly feels,
A man like glory from her kindling wheels.
At theſe perhaps you have ſometimes laugh'd before,
Yet faith I wiſh you'd laugh at them once more.
I'd do my beſt to oblige you, as I live,
Then in return for once to oblige me ſtrive.
Nor now to modern France can we reſort,
Murder and crimes make melancholy ſport.
Once, 'twas a happy land for all conditions,
Now, all is aſſignats and requiſitions
Nor does the war with Holland promiſe much,
For who e'er brought home fancy from the Dutch?
Pepper and cheeſe they had, let us not wrong 'em,
But ſcarce one ſprig of bays e'er grew among 'em.
[]The uſe of language as moſt travellers tell
They think, was only given to buy and ſell,
And when three weighty words, the price is ſpoke,
Mynheer ſinks down again to mum and ſmoke.
But now 'tis time to drop the mimic art,
And breathe one wiſh that ſwells each honeſt heart.
May Britain's ſon's with victory by their ſide
Make Holland ſhake, and humble Gallia's pride
The God of battle thro' all dangers guard 'em,
And their beſt meed, a Nation's thanks reward 'em!
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