Virginia, A Tragedy Part 10

_Cor._ Courage, Virginia. Why, much hope is left!

To-day thy father will return, and he Would place his soul in jeopardy for thee.

_Virginia._ Courage, ay, courage! I am brave again.

It is the dawn. Cornelia, we will seek The outer court and wash our tears away In the cool fountain. Once again my cheek Is hot with spirit and my heart beats swift With hope and newborn trust in those I love.

[_Exeunt the two, their arms wound round each other and Cornelia's lips pressed to Virginia's cheek._

SCENE III--THE FORUM.

_A mult.i.tude has gathered. Appius is in the judgment seat, with Marcus Claudius stationed beside him. Many women are weeping and the men appear silent and angry. Appius is surrounded by a guard of lictors. Cornelia and Tiberius are seated on the left in a car drawn by slaves. Near the center are gathered Galba, Hortensius, Horatius, and Marius._

_Marius._ This vast suspense weighs on me heavily; I would not see that gentle maiden wronged For all my world possessions! E'en the G.o.ds Would shriek with horror if yon slave of Dis, Young Marcus Claudius, should seize on her.

Why doth she not appear?

_Hort._ She and her father, Who hath returned, hot-foot, from camp to her, Tarry about the town, and every man They meet they do address with exhortations And prayers for justice and for witnesses, That this gross tale which men do know is false Shall be so proven. Yet all Rome is p.r.o.ne Beneath the foot of Appius and his nine Vile colleagues. Fear is most tyrannical, Justice is dying, Mercy now is dead.

_Marius._ Then G.o.d alone can help the wretched maid!

_Hor._ (_hotly_). Nay, shall she be defiled and made a slave?

Not while my hands are free, my body quick With lifeblood, and my heart a man's. Why she Is pure and frail as is the mountain snow.

Happy the man who stands her champion.

Happy Icilius, our young tribune!

[_Enter Virginius in mean, plebeian garments and Virginia simply clothed in white, her dark hair loose. A murmur of sympathy and admiration greet their appearance, quickly suppressed. Enter from the other side Icilius, vainly struggling in the hands of armored soldiers. His hair is wild and greatly disheveled, his features white and drawn with agony._

_Icilius._ Virginia! Ah, my G.o.d! Virginia!

_Virginia._ My Love! My Love! My Love!

[_He stretches out his bound arms toward her, and in a moment with a cry she runs to him, regardless of the gazing world, and kneeling at his feet kisses with fervor the hands in bondage for her sake. Murmurs from the mult.i.tude._

_Appius_ (_rising to his feet, his face aflame_). Back, girl! Back from him! Lictor, part the twain!

[_Lictor unwillingly obeys, whereat Virginia rising slips away from him to her father's side. Virginius advances, with his hand uplifted, toward the judgment seat._

_Virginius._ Delay no longer in the trial of This matter. We demand in common justice A hearing, and at once, O, Appius!

_Galba_ (_aside to his friends_). Mark yonder man upon the judgment-seat.

Methinks 'tis he who coveteth the virgin, And Marcus but his instrument. Ah, see!

The Chief is moved to acquiesce. Methinks He fears this pleb as he once feared Sicinius.

_Appius_ (_haughtily_). And now begins the judgment. Silence, all!

My client, Marcus Claudius, step forth.

[_The man obeys. Virginia, shuddering, looks only at her father._

_Appius._ Repeat thy statement, Claudius, we wait.

_Marc._ O, n.o.ble Chief, and all ye men of Rome, I but reiterate my words to-day Spoken in explanation of my course Of action yesternoon. A woman came Unto the house of Appius, one moon Ago, and came to perish on our hands.

But ere she died she made a full confession Of having served in early years the wife Of this our citizen, Virginius, Who ignorantly hath been foully wronged, For whom we feel the deepest sympathy, And unto whom I now address myself.

[_Turns to Virginius._

O, good centurion, this maid is not Thy child in blood; but, as I said, was born Of a slave woman in my house. Thy babe Died on the moment of its birth. Thou wert Away in service. Dost thou not recall?

_Virginius_ (_in calm affirmative_). Yea, that I do recall.

(_Aside._) Thou fiend of h.e.l.l!

_Marc._ (_triumphantly_). Has he not said? This slave, who did confess To us the truth, declared that she had played The thief and crept most slyly to my house, Stolen the infant of my nurse and slipped Out, 'mid the night and gloom, which, friendly, hid Her dastard deed. Virginia is the babe, And, therefore, lawfully belongs to me.

_Icilius._ Ye G.o.ds!

_Mult.i.tude._ No proofs? No evidence?

_Marc._ (_proudly_). My word!

[_Much laughter and some hissing._

_Appius._ Silence! Virginius, speak, and be as brief As the occasion will allow. Proceed.

_Virginius._ Ye men of Rome! To you, and you alone, I speak in my defense, for lo! in you I see the qualities of common justice, Or faintest sense of mercy, which is rare-- And less, indeed, unto the point in hand.

For all these forty years I've lived in Rome, A Roman 'mongst the Romans, brave amongst The brave, and serving, ere I came of age, My mother city. Have I shown myself In any manner base, corruptible, Or lying, either by my word or deed?

Ye all are witnesses of me--each man Can see and know the truth as G.o.d can see.

This is my babe, of me begotten, born Of her whom I so loved--her mother. Lo!

The very l.u.s.ter of her ebon hair Bespeaks the woman who in honor bore Virginia. See! The tremble of her lip.

I do not willingly display my flesh And blood to gaze of mult.i.tudes, but that My straits are desperate. Look upon her hand-- The long, brown fingers are a copy true Of these, though mine are knotted by the grip Of sword and the guiding of the plow.

And now her eyes--Ah, no! I say too much.

Ye G.o.ds of Heaven speak for me this day!

[_He bows his head upon Virginia's shoulder._

_Appius._ He faints with sudden revelation from The G.o.ds of what is manifestly true.

Virginius, thou art deluded, or A man, of old, deceptive.

_Virginia._ 'Tis a lie!

He is Virginius, no more, no less!

And 'tis enough, as Rome can witness to.

Thou art not worthy to crawl on the ground And kiss the hand which hath these many years Battled for Rome! Thou canst but harm our flesh.

His name and mine are unstained as the flame On Vesta's altar.

[_Turns to where Icilius is struggling vainly in the hands of the guard._

Peace, Icilius!

Of what avail is aught to such as these?

Small hope is left--and yet, O, Appius, Wert thou not born of woman? For the one Who gave thee life, respect her sisters now.

Let mercy dawn within thy hardened breast, Speak but one word--one word--and many lives Will leap and live again. Look down upon And honor this grey head, now bowed so low; The only stay and comfort in his age Wouldst tear from him? His years in solitude Will roll away, a never-ending tide.

Ye Romans, look upon your citizens, Protect your women--lest indignant Jove Lightnings shall send upon you, or the shield Of Mars be taken from its sanctuary.