Virginia, A Tragedy Part 7

Thou gentle heart! relieve the strain of grief With tears of pa.s.sion. Then come home, come home.

_Cor._ (_rousing herself_). Tell me, who art thou, O thou n.o.ble maid?

_Virg._ I am Virginia, whom thou knowest not.

_Cor._ Canst thou not take me from this staring crowd?

Their eyes are knives; the very air is poison.

Oh, G.o.d! He is not dead?

_Virg._ (_a.s.sisting her to her feet_). Come home, sweet sister.

_Tib._ (_sobbing_). Cornelia, my Cornelia! Speak to me!

_Virg._ Art thou Tiberius, thou tender child?

Weep not; a.s.sist me with thy stricken sister.

[_As the three, the slaves in close attendance, are about to make their way through the mult.i.tude, there comes a sudden disturbance, and Marcus Claudius springs forward._

_Marc._ Ho! stay a bit, my servant; stay with me!

[_He seizes rude hold on Virginia, who shrieks aloud in terror.

At once the four citizens make their way to her side._

Now by the G.o.ds! I only take mine own.

_Virg._ Aid me, in Heaven's name, ye citizens!

Deliver me from shame! Icilius!

Icilius, my love, where art thou now?

_Marc._ (_in undertone_). Thy struggles, maid, succeed in binding thee But closer in mine arms. Hast thou a lover?

He hears thee not, and thou art my possession.

Now, still thyself. G.o.ds! Proserpine, thou art As strong as is Cybele's lioness!

_Marius._ Foul slave! Loose thou the maid! Oh, insolence!

_Hor._ Beast! I will kill thee, maim thee like a dog, Unless thou takest thy hand from off the maid!

_Marc._ (_panting_). Reserve thy threats and play thou warily, Justice upholds me!

_The mult.i.tude._ Justice!

_Marc._ (_coolly_). Shout less loud, Look not aghast, my masters. I will take This girl by law--she is my rightful slave.

_Hor._ 'Tis false!

_Marc._ Soft, friend, be calm, hold off, I pray!

Hark! she was born a slave within my house, And thence was stolen and declared to be The offspring of the man Virginius, Whose wife had borne an infant at the time, Which on the moment of its birth had died.

Virginius himself was then away, And on returning deemed it was his babe, And deems so to this day. I waited long, And now have found in this Virginia My property. A woman hath confessed; The one who stole her thence and fled away, Returning but to die within the house Of Appius, my patron, whom I serve.

_Cam._ Oh, liar! I first clasped her in mine arms When she was born! Remove thine impious hand!

In childhood and in girlhood I have watched Her growth, and guarded her from shame or harm.

_Mult.i.tude._ Ay, ay! She speaks the truth! Loose thou the maid!

She is no slave. We know Virginius.

_Marc._ Now, I'll have justice, though it cost me e'en My life, itself.

_Hor._ Which it is like to, dog!

[_He strikes him boldly with, clenched fist. The client staggers, losing his hold on Virginia, who takes refuge with the three citizens._

_Hortensius._ Where is thine evidence?

_Galba_ (_ironically_). Ay, e'en thy word Weighs naught with us free citizens of Rome.

_Marc._ (_hissing between his teeth_). My word _shall_ weigh with you, ye coward curs!

For lo! My word is--Appius! Ah--so!

[_The mob shrinks backward at the name, and Marcus laughs in scorn._

(_Vindictively._) I see it hath a little weight with you?

"Free citizens of Rome!" Ye make me laugh.

Oh! ay, I know ye'd mob me joyously, Stone me, or cast me from Tarpeian Rock, Save that--save that--ye _dare_ not! Appius Would leave not one small particle of this, His client, unavenged. Back, all of you!

The maid is mine! Ye can not say me nay.

_One of the mult.i.tude._ But if we threaten thee, or bear her off, And save her from thy most illegal movements, What then?

_Marc._ What then? To Appius Claudius For justice I would go!

[_Murmurs of fear are heard on every side._

(_With mocking smile_). Lo! now he comes Within the Forum.

[_Even as he speaks the Chief of the Decemvirs enters. He is seated in a chair which is borne by four slaves._

_Appius_ (_frowning sombrely_). What bodes this tumult?

Who, yon lovely girl?

_Mult.i.tude._ Justice! We would see justice, Appius!

_Appius._ Silence! and let me hear one voice alone.

Marcus, my client, speak, for I would have An explanation of this strange disturbance.

_Marc._ Most n.o.ble Appius, I owned this girl, Born in my house full sixteen years ago, Of my slave-woman.

_Cam._ (_boldly_). Liar! All men know Her mother was free-born and wedded to Virginius, centurion and pleb.

_Appius._ Gag yonder hag, or drag her hence--I'll have No withered woman's voice of spite exclaiming.