Complete Works of Thomas Otway

by Thomas Otway

  Gone too already? ’twas unkindly done,

  I had not yet imparted half my Soul,

  Not a third part of its sond jealous Fears.

  But I’ll pursue him for’t, and be reveng’d;

  Hang such a tender Tale about his Heart,

  Shall make it tingle as his Life were stung.

  Nay too.... I’ll love him; never, never leave him;

  Fond as a Child, and resolute as Man.

  Ex. Lavin.

  Enter Metellus musing.

  Metell.

  Sylla this morning parts from hence to Capua,

  To head that Army. Cinna must be Consul:....

  Ay, Cinna must be. He’s a busy fellow,

  Knows how to tell a story to the Rabble,

  Hates Marius too: that, that’s the dearest point.

  I hope the Snares for Marius laid may take him.

  A hundred horse are in pursuit to find him:

  And if they catch him, his Head’s safe, that’s certain.

  Octavius will be the other.... be it so,

  An honest, simple, downright-dealing Lord:

  A little too Religious, that’s his fault.

  Enter a Servant.

  What now?

  Servant.

  A Letter left you by a Lictor,

  Who told us that it came from the Lord Sylla.

  Metellus reads the Letter.

  BLAME not, Sir, my parting

  So suddenly: just now I’ve had advice

  Of some Disturbance in the Camp at Capua.

  Commend my tender’st Faith to fair Lavinia.

  You’re Sylla’s Advocate with her and Rome.

  Enter Nurse.

  Well, Nurse.

  Nurse.

  My Lord.

  Metell.

  How does my Daughter?

  Nurse.

  Truly very ill:

  She has not slept a wink:

  Nothing but toss’d and tumbled all this night;

  I left her just now slumbering.

  This Lord Sylla does so run in her Head.

  Metell.

  Oh! were he in her Heart, Nurse!

  Nurse.

  Were he?

  Why, she thinks of nothing else, talks of nothing else, dreams of nothing else. She would needs have me ly with her th’other night. But about midnight (I’ll swear it wak’d me out of a sweet Nap) she takes me fast in her Arms, and cries, Oh my Lord Sylla! but are you, will you be true? then sigh’d, and so stretcht.... I swear I was half afraid.

  Metell.

  She’s strangely alter’d then.

  This Morning two new Consuls must be chosen.

  If they are true, those tidings thou hast brought me,

  Wait while she wakes, and tell her ’tis my pleasure,

  At my return from th’ Forum that I see her....

  [Ex. Metell.

  Nurse.

  So, so; — here will be sweet doings in time. How many hundred lies a day must I tell, to keep this Family at peace?

  Enter Lavinia.

  Lavin.

  Oh Nurse! where art thou? is my Father gone?

  Nurse.

  Gone? yes; and would I were gone too.

  Lavin.

  Why dost thou sigh? what cause hast thou to wish so?

  Wert thou distrest, unfortunate as I am,

  Thou hadst then cause.

  What shall I doe? Oh, how alone am I!

  I walk methinks as half of me were lost;

  Yet, like a maim’d Bird, flutter, flutter on,

  And fain wou’d find a Hole to hide my head in.

  Nurse.

  ‘Odds my Boddikins! but why thus drest, Madam? why in this pickle, say you now?

  Lavin.

  Seem not to wonder, nor dare to oppose me,

  For I am desperate, and resolv’d to Death.

  In this unhappy, wayward, humble Dress,

  After my Love a Pilgrimage I’ll take,

  Forsake deserted Rome, and find my Marius.

  Nurse.

  And I must stay behind to be hang d up, like an old Polecat in a Warren, for a warning to all Vermine that shall come after me. Would I were fairly dead for a week, till this were over.

  Lavin.

  This Morning’s opportunity is fair,

  When all are busy in electing Consuls;

  I shall escape unseen without the Gates,

  And this night in a Litter reach Salonium.

  Nurse.

  I care not; I’ll have nothing to doe in’t: you sha’nt stir.

  Nay, I’ll raise the House first. Why Clodius! Catulus! Sempronia! Thesbia! Men and Maids, where are you? Oh! oh! oh!...

  Lav. gets from her. Nurse falls down. [Ex. Lavin.

  Enter Clodius.

  Clod.

  What’s the matter, Mistriss?

  Nurse.

  Oh Clody, Clody, dear Clody! is’t thee, my dear Clody? help me, help me up. Run to my Lord to the Forum presently: tell him his Treasury is robb’d, his House a-fire, his Daughter dead, and I mad. Run, run. You’ll not run. Oh! oh!

  [Exeunt.

  SCENE CHANGES TO THE COUNTRY.

  Enter severall Herdsmen belonging to Marius.

  1. Herds.

  GOOD morrow, Brother, you have heard the News.

  2. Herds.

  News, quoth a? trim News truly.

  1. Herds.

  Why, they say our Lord and Master’s stept a one side s there any thing in’t trow?

  2. Herds.

  Any thing in’t? alas aday! alas aday! sad times! sad times, Brother! not a penny of money stirring.

  1. Herds.

  Nay, I thought there was no good Weather towards, when my bald-fac’d Heifer stuck up her Tail Eastward, and ran back into a new Quick-set, which I had just made to keep the Swine from the Beans.

  2. Herds.

  And t’other night, as I was at Supper, in the Chimnycorner, a whole Family of Swallows, that had occupy’d the Tenement these seven years, fell down, Nest and all, into the Porridgepot, and spoil’d the Broath. Sad times! sad times, Brother!

  3. Herds.

  Did you meet no Troupers this way?

  2. Herds.

  Troupers? I saw a parcel of Raggooners, I think they call ’em, trotting along you Wood-side upon ragged Hide-bound Jades. I warrant they came for no goodness.....

  1. Herds.

  ’Twas to seek for Lord Marius, as sure as Eggs be Eggs. These-Bitious folk make more stir in the world then a thousand men. Would my Kine were all in their Stalls.

  Enter severall Souldiers in quest of Marius.

  1. Sould.

  This is the way. How now, you pack of Boobies? whose Fools are you?

  2. Herds.

  Why, we are such Fools as you are, any bodie’s Fools that will pay us our Wages.

  2. Sould.

  Do you belong to the Traitour Marius?

  1. Herds.

  We belong to Caius Marius, an’t like your Worship.

  1. Sould.

  Why, this is a civil Fellow. But you, Rogue, you are witty and be hang’d, are you?

  2. Herds.

  I’s poor enough to be witty, as you’r poor enough to be valiant. Had I but Money enough, I’d no more be a Wit then you’d be a Souldier.

  2. Sould.

  Let the hungry Churl alone.

  1. Sould.

  Hark you, you Dog, where’s your Lord, the Traitour Marius?

  2. Herds.

  In a whole Skin, if he be wise.....

  2. Sould.

  Where is he, you Pultroon?

  2. Herds.

  Look you, I keep his Cows and his Oxen here at Salonium, but I keep none of him. If you must needs know where he is, then I must needs tell you I don’t know.

  1. Sould.

  Let’s to his house hard by, and ransack that. Sirrah,

  If we miss of him, you may repent this.

  [Ex. Souldiers.

  1. Herds.

  ’Tis all
one to me, I must pay my Rent to some body.

  2. Herds.

  Why, this ’tis now to be a Great man. Heav’n keep me a Cow-keeper still.... I say....

  Enter Marius senior and Granius.

  Mar. sen.

  Where are we? are we yet not near Salonium?

  Lead me to yonder shady Poplar, where

  The poor old Marius a while may sit,

  And joy in Rest. Oh my distemper’d Head!

  The Sun has beat his Beams so hard upon me,

  That my Brain’s hot as molten Gold. My Skull!

  Oh my tormented Skull! Oh Rome! Rome! Rome!

  Hah! what are those?

  Gran.

  They seem, Sir, Rural Swains,

  Who tend the Herds that graze beneath these Woods.

  Mar. sen.

  Who are you? to what Lord do ye belong?

  2. Herds.

  We did belong to Caius Marius once: but they say he’s gone a Journey: and now we belong to one another.

  Mar. sen.

  Have ye forgot me then? ungratefull Slaves!

  Are you so willing to disown your Master?

  Who would have thought t’have found such Baseness here,

  Where Innocence seems seated by the Gods,

  As in her Virgin-nakedness untainted?

  Confusion on ye, ye sordid Earthlings.

  [Ex. all but one.

  1. Herds.

  Oh fly, my Lord, your Foes are thick abroad:

  Just now a Troup of Murtherers past this way,

  And ask’d with horrour for the Traitour Marius.

  By this time at Salonium, at your House,

  They are in search of you. Fly, fly, my Lord....

  [Exit.

  Mar. sen.

  I shall be hounded up and down the World,

  Now every Villain, that is Wretch enough

  To take the price of Bloud, dreams of my Throat.

  Help and support me till I reach the Wood,

  Then go and find thy wretched Brother out.

  Asunder we may dodge our Fate, and lose her.

  In some old hollow Tree or o’regrown Brake

  I’d rest my weary Lims, till Danger pass me.

  [Goes into the Wood.

  Enter Souldiers again.

  1. Sould.

  A thousand Crowns? ’tis a Reward might buy

  As many Lives, for they are cheap in Rome;

  And ’tis too much for one.

  2. Sould.

  Let’s set this Wood

  A flaming, if you think he’s here, and then

  Quickly you’ll see th’ old Droan crawl humming out.

  1. Sould.

  Thou always lov’st to ride full speed to Mischief. There’s no consideration in thee. Look you, when I cut a Throat, I love to doe it with as much Deliberation and Decency as a Barber cuts a Beard. I hate a slovenly Murther done hand over head: a man gets no credit by it.

  3. Sould.

  The man that spoke last spoke well. Therefore let us to you adjacent Village, and sowce our selves in good Falernum....

  [Ex. Souldiers.

  Mar. sen.

  O Villains! not a Slave of those

  But has serv’d under me, has eat my Bread,

  And felt my Bounty.... Drought! parching Drought!

  Was ever Lion thus by Dogs emboss’d?

  Oh! I could swallow Rivers: Earth yield me Water;

  Or swallow Marius down where Springs first flow.

  Enter Marius junior and Granius.

  Mar. Jun.

  My Father!

  Mar. sen.

  Oh my Sons!

  Mar. Jun.

  Why thus forlorn? stretcht on the Earth?

  Mar. sen.

  Oh! get me some Refreshment, cooling Herbs,

  And Water to allay my ravenous Thirst

  I would not trouble you if I had Strength:

  But I’m so faint that all my Lims are useless.

  Now have I not one Drachma to buy Food,

  Must we then starve? no, sure the Birds will feed us.

  Mar. Jun.

  There stands a House on yonder side o’th’ Wood,

  It seems the Mansion of some Man of note:

  I’ll go and turn a Beggar for my Father.

  Mar. sen.

  Oh my Soul’s comfort! do. Indeed I want it.

  I, who had once the plenty of the Earth,

  Now want a Root and Water. Go, my Boy,

  And see who’ll give a Morsell to poor Marius.

  Nay, I’ll not starve: no, I will plunge in Riot,

  Wallow in Plenty. Drink? I’ll drink, I’ll drink.

  Give me that Goblet hither.... Here’s a Health

  To all the Knaves and Senators in Rome.

  Mar jun.

  Repose your self a while, till we return.

  Mar. sen.

  I will; but prithee let me rave a little.

  Go, prithee go, and don’t delay. I’ll rest;

  [Ex. Mar. Jun.

  As thou shalt, Rome, if e’re my Fortune raise me.....

  Enter Lavinia.

  Another Murth’rer? this brings smiling Fate:

  A deadly Snake cloath’d in a dainty Skin.

  Lavin.

  I’ve wander’d up and down these Woods and Meadows,

  Till I have lost my way.....

  Against a tall, young, slender, well-grown Oak

  Leaning, I found Lavinia in the Bark.

  My Marius should not be far hence.

  Mar. sen.

  What art Thou,

  That dar’st to name that wretched Creature Marius?

  Lavin.

  Do not be angry, Sir, what e’re thou art;

  I am a poor unhappy Woman, driven

  By Fortune to pursue my banish’d Lord.

  Mar. sen.

  By thy dissembling Tone thou shouldst be Woman,

  And Roman too.

  Lavin.

  Indeed I am.

  Mar. sen.

  A Roman?

  If thou art so, be gone, lest Rage with Strength

  Assist my Vengeance, and I rise and kill thee.

  Lavin.

  My Father, is it you?

  Mar. sen.

  Now thou art Woman;

  For Lies are in thee. I? am I thy Father?

  I ne’r was yet so curst; none of thy Sex

  E’re sprung from me. My Offspring all are Males,

  The Nobler sort of Beasts entit’led Men.

  Lavin.

  I am your Daughter, if your Son’s my Lord.

  Have you ne’r heard Lavinia’s name in Rome,

  That wedded with the Son of Marius?

  Mar. sen.

  Hah!

  Art thou that fond, that kind and doting thing,

  That lest her Father for a banisht Husband?

  Come near —

  And let me bless thee, though thy Name’s my Foe.

  Lavin.

  Alas! my Father, you seem much opprest:

  Your Lips are parcht, bloud-shot your Eyes and sunk.

  Will you partake such Fruits as I have gather’d?

  Taste, Sir, this Peach, and this Pomegranate; both are

  Ripe and refreshing.

  Mar. sen.

  What? all this from Thee,

  Thou Angel, whom the Gods have sent to aid me?

  I don’t deserve thy Bounty.

  Lavin.

  Here, Sir,’s more.

  I found a Crystall Spring too in the Wood,

  And took some Water; ’tis most soft and cool.

  Mar. sen.

  An Emperour’s Feast! but I shall rob thee.

  Lavin.

  No, I’ve eat, and slak’d my Thirst. But where’s my Lord,

  My dearest Marius?

  Mar. sen.

  To th’ neighbouring Village

  He’s gone, to beg his Father’s Dinner, Daughter.

  Lavin.

  Will you then call me Daughter? will you
own it?

  I’m much o’repaid for all the Wrongs of Fortune.

  But surely Marius can’t be brought to want.

  I’ve Gold and Jewels too, and they’l buy Food.

  Enter Marius junior.

  Mar. sen.

  See here, my Marius, what the Gods have sent us.

  See thy Lavinia.

  Mar. Jun.

  Hah!

  [They run and embrace.

  Mar. sen.

  What? dumb at meeting?

  Mar. Jun.

  Why weeps my Love?

  Lavin.

  I cannot speak, Tears so obstruct my Words,

  And choak me with unutterable Joy.

  Mar. Jun.

  Oh my Heart’s Joy!

  Lavin.

  My Soul!

  Mar. Jun.

  But hast thou left

  Thy Father’s House, the Pomp and State of Rome,

  To follow desart Misery?

  Lavin.

  I come

  To bear a part in every thing that’s thine,

  Be’t Happiness or Sorrow. In these Woods,

  Whilst from pursuing Enemies you’re safe,

  I’ll range about, and find the Fruits and Springs,

  Gather cool Sedges, Daffadills and Lillies,

  And softest Camomill to make us Beds,

  Whereon my Love and I at night will sleep,

  And dream of better Fortune.

  Enter Granius and Servant with Wine and Meat.

  Mar. sen.

  Yet more Plenty

  Sure Comus, the God of Feasting, haunts these Woods,

  And means to entertain us as his Guests.

  Servant.

  I am sent hither, Marius, from my Lord,

  Sextilius the Praetor, to relieve thee,

  And warn thee that thou straight depart this place,

  Else he the Senate’s Edict must obey,

  And treat thee as the Foe of Rome.

  Mar. sen.

  But did he,

  Did he, Sextilius, bid thee say all this?

  Was he too proud to come and see his Master,

  That rais’d him out of nothing? Was he not

  My menial Servant once, and wip’d these Shoes,

  Ran by my Chariot-wheels, my Pleasures watcht,

  And fed upon the Voidings of my Table?

  Durst he affront me with a sordid Alms?

  And send a saucy Message by a Slave?

  Hence with thy Scraps: back to thy Teeth I dash ’em.

  Be gone whilst thou art safe. Hold, stay a little.

  Serv.

  What Answer would you have me carry back?

  Mar. sen.

  Go to Sextilius, tell him thou hast seen

  Poor Caius Marius banish’d from his Country,

  Sitting in Sorrow on the naked Earth,

  Amidst an ample Fortune once his own,

  Where now he cannot claim a Turf to sleep on.

  [Ex. Servant.

  How am I fallen! Musick? sure, the Gods

  [Soft Musick.

  Are mad, or have design’d to make me so.

  Enter Martha.