by Thomas Otway
Nurse.
Oh! how my Head akes! what a Head have I!
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My Back o’ tother side! ah! my Back! my Back!
Beshrew your heart for sending me about
To catch my Death.... This Back of mine will break.
[Drinks.
Lavin.
Indeed I’m sorry if thou art not well.
But prithee tell me, Nurse, what says my Love?
Nurse.
Why, your Love says like an honest Gentleman, and a kind Gentleman, and a handsome.... and I’ll warrant a vertuous Gentleman.
[Drinks.]
Well... what? where’s your Father?
Lavin.
Where’s my Father? why, he’s at the Senate.
How odly thou reply’st?
Your Love says like an honest Gentleman,
Where’s your Father?
Nurse.
Oh good Lady dear!
Are you so hot? marry come up, I trow.
Is this a Poultice for my aking Bones?
Henceforward do your Messages your self.
Lavin.
Nay, prithee be not angry, Nurse; I meant
No ill. Speak kindly, will my Marius come?
Nurse.
Will he? will a Duck swim?
Lavin.
Then he will come.
Nurse.
Come? why, he will come upon all four, but he’ll come.
Go, get you in, and say your Prayers: go.
Lavin.
For Blessings on my Marius and Thee.
Nurse.
Well, it would be a sad thing though....
Lavin.
What?
Nurse.
If Marius should not come now.... for there’s old doings at the Gates, they are at it ding-dong. Tantarara go the Trumpets; Shout, cry the Souldiers; Clatter go the Swords. I’ll warrant... I made no small haste....
Lavin.
And is my Marius there? alas my Fears!
[Trumpets.
The Noise comes this way. Guard my Love, ye Gods,
Or strike me with your Thunder when he falls.
[Exeunt.
SCENE THE FORUM.
Enter Marius senior, Marius junior, Granius, Sulpitius, Catulus, &c. Guards, Lictors, on one side: Metellus, Sylla, Quintus Pompeius, Guards, on the other.
[Trumpets sound a March.
Metell.
OH thou God,
Deliverer of Rome, most blest of men!
See here the Fathers of thy bleeding Country
Prostrate for Refuge at thy feet: see there
The Terrour of our Freedome, and thy Foe,
The Persecuter of thy Friends, the Scourge
Of Truth and Justice, and the Plague of Rome.
Mar. sen.
What art Thou, that canst lend thy slavish ears
To flattering Hypocrisy?
Sylla.
My Name thou hast heard,
And fled from. I am the Friend of Rome,
The Terrour and the Bane of thee her Foe.
Mar. sen.
If th’ art her Friend, why com’st thou here thus arm’d,
Slaughtering her Citizens, and laying waste her Walls?
Sylla.
To free her from a Tyrant’s Power.
Mar. sen.
Who is that Tyrant?
Sylla.
Thou, who hast opprest
Her Senate, made thy self by force a Consul,
Set free her Slaves, and arm’d ’em ‘gainst her Laws.
Mar. sen.
Hear this, ye Romans, and then judge my Wrongs.
Have I opprest you? have I forcd your Laws?
Am I a Tyrant? I, whom ye have rais’d,
For my true Services, to what I am?
Remember th’ Ambrons, Cimbri, and the Teutons;
Remember the Confederate War.
Sylla.
Where Thou,
Cold and delaying, wert by Silo brav’d,
Scorn’d by thy Souldiers, and at last compell’d
Ingloriously to quit th’ unwieldy Charge.
Remember too who banisht good Metellus,
The Friend and Parent of thy obscure Family,
That rais’d thee from a Peasant to a Lord.
Mar. sen.
Basely thou wrongst the Truth. My Actions rais’d me.
Hadst thou bin born a Peasant, still thou’dst bin so:
But I by Service to thy Country ‘ave made
My Name renown’d in Peace, and fear’d in War.
Sylla.
In the Iugurthine War, whose King was taken
Pris’ner by me, and Marius triumpht for’t.
Mar. sen.
Thou stol’st him basely, stolst him at the price
Of his Wive’s Lust: thou barterd’st his Betraying,
And in the Capitol hast Pageants set
In memory of thy Vanity and Shame.
Syll.
Thy Shame.
Mar. sen.
My Honour, proud presumptuous Boy,
Who wouldst be gaudy in an unfit Dress,
And wear my cast off Glories after me.
Syll.
I’d rather wear some Beggar’s rotten Rags,
By him left dangling on a high-way Hedge,
Then soil my Laurels with a Leaf of thine,
Thou scorn’d Plebeian.
Mar. sen.
Worst Perdition catch thee.
Syll.
Disband that Rout of Rebells at thy heels,
And yield thy self to Justice and the Senate.
Mar. sen.
Justice from Thee demanded on my Head?
First clear thy self, quit thy usurpt Command;
Approach and kneel to me, whom thou hast wrong’d.
Syll.
Upon thy Neck I would.
Mar. sen.
As soon thou’dst take
A Lion by the beard: thou dar’st not think on’t.
Syll.
I dare, and more.
Mar. sen.
Then, Gods, I take your word,
If there be truth in you, I shall not fall
This day. My Friends and Fellow-souldiers, now
Fight as I’ve seen you: for the Life of Sylla,
Leave it to me; for much Revenge must go
Along with Death when such a Victim bleeds.
Syll.
My Lords, withdraw.
Metell.
No, trust the Gods, I’ll see
My Country’s Fate, and with her live or dy.
Mar. sen.
Now, Sylla.
Syll.
Now, my Veterans, consider
You fight for Laws, for Liberty, and Life.
Mar. sen.
Rebellion never wanted that Pretence.
Thou Shadow of what I have bin, thou Puppet
Of that great State and Honours I have born,
If thou’lt doe something worthy of thy place,
Let’s join our Battel with a Force may glut
The Throat of Death, and choak him with himself;
As fiercely as destroying Whirlwinds rise,
Or as Clouds dash when Thunder shakes the Skies.
[Trumpets sound a Charge: They fight.
Re-enter Marius senior taken by Sylla’s party.
Mar. sen.
Forsaken, and a Pris’ner? Is this all
That’s left of Marius? the old naked Trunk
Of that tall Pine that was? Away, ye Shrubs,
Ye clinging Brambles; do not clog me thus,
But let me run into the Jaws of Death,
And finish my ill Fate. Or must I be
Preserv’d a publick Spectacle, expos’d
To Scorn, and make a Holyday for Slaves?
Oh! that Thought’s Hell. Sure I should know thy Face.
Thou hast born Office under me. If e’re
In my best Fortune
I deserv’d thy Friendship,
Give me a Roman’s Death, and set me free,
That no Dishonour in my Age o’retake me.
Officer.
I’ve serv’d and lov’d you well: nor would I see
Your Fall.... My Orders were, to save your Life.
Mar. sen.
Thou’rt a Time-server, that canst flatter Misery.
Enter Marius junior, Granius and Sulpitius, Prisoners.
My Sons in Bonds too and Sulpitius?
Sulpit.
Yes, the Rat-catchers have trapt me. Now must I
Be food for Crows, and stink upon a Tree,
Whilst Coxcombs strowl abroad on Holydays,
To take the Air, and see me rot. A pox
On Fortune, and a pox on that first Fool
That taught the world Ambition.
Enter Quint. Pompeius, four Lictors before him.
Q. Pomp.
Draw near,
Ye men of Rome, and hear the Law pronounc’d.
Thou Marius, whose Ambition and whose Pride
Has cost so many Lives, the first that e’re
Wag’d Civil Wars in Rome, Thee and thy Sons,
Thy Family and Kin, with that vile Slave
And Minister of all thy Outrages,
The curst Sulpitius, Banishment’s thy lot;
After to morrow’s Dawn if found i’th’ City,
Death be thy Doom: so hath the Senate said.
So flourish Peace and Liberty in Rome.
Ex. Quint. Pompeius, Lictors crying Liberty.
Mar. sen.
I thank ye, Gods, upon my knees I thank ye,
For plaguing me above all other men.
Come, ye young Hero’s, kneel and praise the Heav’ns,
For crowning thus your youthfull Hopes. Ha, ha, ha!
What pleasant Game hath Fortune play’d to day?
Oh! I could burst with Laughter. Why, now Rome’s
At Peace. But may it be as short and vain,
As Joys but dreamt of, or as Sick mens Slumbers.
Now let’s take hands, and bending to the Earth,
To all th’Infernall Powers let us swear.
All.
We swear.
Mar. sen.
That’s well: By all the Destinies,
By all the Furies, and the Fiends that wait
About the Throne of Hell, and by Hell’s King,
We’ll bring Destruction to this cursed City;
Let not one Stone of all her Tow’rs stand safe.
Mar. Jun.
Let not her Temples nor her Gods escape.
Gran.
Let Husbands in their Wives Embraces perish.
Mar. sen.
Her Young men massacred,
Sulpit.
Her Virgins ravisht.
Mar. Jun.
And let her Lovers all my Torments feel,
Doating like me, and like me banished.
Thus let ’em Curse, thus raving tear their Hair,
And fall upon the ground as I do now.
Mar. sen.
Rise then, and to Lavinia go. This Night’s
Thy own.
Mar. Jun.
And ever after Pain and Sorrow.
But go thou, find Lavinia’s Woman out....
[To his servant.
Tell her I’ll come, and bid her chear my Love,
For I’ll not fail, but in this Night enjoy
Whole Life, and forgive Nature what’s to come.
Mar. sen.
Thus then let’s part; each take his several way,
As to a Task of Darkness: when we meet
In hated Exile, we’ll compute Accompts,
And see what Mischief each has gather’d then.
For, Rome, I shall be yet once more thy Lord,
If Oracles have truth, and Augurs ly not.
For yet a Child, and in my Father’s Fields
Playing, I seven young Eagles chanc’d to find;
Which gathering up I to my Parents bore.
The Gods were sought: who promis’d me from thence
As many times the Consulate in Rome.
Six times already I’ve that Office bore,
And so far has the Prophecy prov’d true.
But if I’ve manag’d ill the time that’s past,
And too remiss six elder Fortunes lost,
The youngest Darling Fate is yet to come,
And Thou shalt feel me then, Ungratefull Rome.
[Exeunt.
The end of the Third ACT.
ACT IV.
SCENE THE GARDEN.
Enter Lavinia and Marius junior.
Lavin.
WILT thou be gone? it is not yet near Day.
It was the Nightingale, and not the Lark,
That pierc’d the fearfull hollow of thy Ear.
Nightly on yon Pomegranate-tree she sings.
Believe me, Love, it was the Nightingale.
Mar. Jun.
Oh! ’twas the Lark, the Herald of the Morn,
No Nightingale. Look, Love, what envious Streaks
Of Light embroider all the cloudy East.
Night’s Candles are burnt out, and jocund Day
Upon the Mountain-tops sits gally drest,
Whilst all the Birds bring Musick to his Levy.
I must be gone and live, or stay and dy.....
Lavin.
Oh! oh! what wretched Fortune is my lot!
Sure, giving Thee, Heav’n grew too far in Debt
To pay, till Bankrupt-like it broke; whilst I,
A poor compounding Creditor, am forc’d
To take a Mite for endless Summs of Joy.
Mar. Jun.
Let me be taken, let me suffer Death,
I am content, so Thou wilt have it so....
By Heav’n, yon gray is not the Morning’s Eye,
But the Reflexion of pale Cynthia’s Brightness.
Nor is’t the Lark we hear, whose Notes do beat
So high, and Echo in the Vault of Heav’n.
I’m all desire to stay, no will to go.
How is’t, my Soul? let’s talk: It is not Day.
Lavin.
Oh! it is, it is.... Fly hence away, my Marius.
It is the Lark, and out of tune she sings,
With grating Discords and unpleasing Strainings.
Some say the Lark and loathsome Toad change Eyes:
Now I could wish they had chang’d Voices too;
Or that a Lethargy had seiz’d the Morning,
And she had slept, and never wak’d agen,
To part me from th’ Embraces of my Love.
What shall become of Me, when Thou art gone?
Mar. Jun.
The Gods that heard our Vows, and know our Loves,
Seing my Faith, and thy unspotted Truth,
Will sure take care, and let no Wrongs annoy thee.
Upon my Knees I’ll ask ’em every day,
How my Lavinia does: and every night,
In the severe Distresses of my Fate,
As I perhaps shall wander through the Desart,
And want a place to rest my weary Head on,
I’ll count the Stars, and bless ’em as they shine,
And court ’em all for my Lavinia’s Safety.
Lavin.
Oh Banishment! eternal Banishment!
Ne’r to return! must we ne’r meet agen?
My Heart will break, I cannot think that Thought
And live. Cou’d I but see to th’ end of Woe,
There were some Comfort .... but eternall Torment
Is even insupportable to Thought.
It cannot be that we shall part for ever.
Mar. Jun.
No, for my Banishment may be recall’d;
My Father once more hold a Pow’r in Rome:
Then shall I boldly claim Lavinia mine,
Whilst happiest men shall envy at the Blessing,
And Poets write
the Wonders of our Loves.
Lavin.
If by my Father’s Cruelty I’m forc’d,
When left alone, to yield to Sylla’s Claim,
Defenseless as I am, and thou far from me,
If, as I must, I rather dy then suffer’t,
What a sad Tale will that be when ’tis told thee?
I know not what to fear, or hope, or think,
Or say, or doe. I cannot let thee go.
Mar. Jun.
A Thousand things would, to this purpose said,
But sharpen and add weight to parting Sorrow.
Oh my Lavinia! if my Heart e’re stray,....
[Kneels.
Or any other Beauty ever charm me,
If I live not entirely onely thine,
In that curst moment when my Soul forsakes thee,
May I be hither brought a Captive bound,
T’adorn the Triumph of my basest Foe.
Lavin.
And if I live not faithfull to the Lord
Of my first Vows, my dearest onely Marius,
May I be brought to Poverty and Scorn,
Hooted by Slaves forth from thy gates, O Rome,
Till flying to the Woods t’ avoid my Shame,
Sharp Hunger, Cold, or some worse Fate destroy me;
And not one Tree vouchsafe a Leaf to hide me.
Mar. Jun.
What needs all this? —
Lavin.
Oh! I could find out things
To talk to thee for ever.
Mar. Jun.
Weep not; the time
We had to stay together has bin employ’d
In richest Love.....
Lavin.
We ought to summon all
The spirit of soft Passion up, to chear
Our Hearts thus lab’ring with the pangs of Parting.
Oh my poor Marius!
Mar. Jun.
Ah my kind Lavinia!
Lavin.
But dost thou think we e’re shall meet agen?
Mar. Jun.
I doubt it not, and all these Woes shall serve
For sweet Discourses in our time to come.
Lavin.
Alas! I have an ill-divining Soul;
Methinks I see thee, now thou’rt from my Arms,
Like a stark Ghost with Horrour in thy Visage.
Either my Eye-sight fails, or thou look’st pale.
Mar. Jun.
And trust me, Love, in my Eye so dost Thou.
Dry Sorrow drinks our Bloud.... Farewell.
Lavin.
Farewell then.
[Ex. Mar. Jun.
Nurse within.
Madam.
Lavin.
My Nurse.
Nurse within.
Your Father’s up, and Day-light broke abroad.
Be wary, look about you.....
Lavin.
Hah! is he gone? My Lord, my Husband, Friend,
I must hear from thee every day i’th’ hour:
For absent Minutes seem as many Days.
Oh! by this reck’ning I shall be most old,
E’re I agen behold my Marius. Nay,