Should shine a bright example to the world
Of every virtue: he is Rome’s support,
As such I look upon him; and the more
He has already done to serve his country,
The more I shall require of him hereafter.
Know then by what I wish the love I bear him,
Temper the heat of youth; to flatter Titus
Were death to him, and injury to Rome.
messala.
My lord, I am content to follow Titus,
To imitate his valor, not instruct him:
I have but little influence o’er your son;
But, if he deigns to listen to my counsels,
Rome soon will see how much he loves her glory.
brutus.
Go then, be careful not to soothe his errors;
For I hate tyrants much, but flatterers more.
[Exit Brutus.
SCENE V.
messala.
[Alone.
There’s not a tyrant more detestable,
More cruel than thy own relentless soul;
But I shall tread perhaps beneath my feet
The pride of all thy false insulting virtue:
Yes, thou Colossus, raised thus high above us
By a vile crowd, the thunder is prepared,
Soon shall it fall, and crush thee into ruin.
End of the Second Act.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
aruns, albinus, messala.
aruns.
[A letter in his hand.
At length, my friend, a dawn of fair success
Breaks in upon us; thou hast served me nobly,
And all is well: this letter, my Albinus,
Decides the fate of Tarquin, and of Rome.
But, tell me, have you fixed the important hour?
Have you watched closely the Quirinal gate?
If our conspirators to-night should fail
To yield the ramparts up, will your assault
Be ready? Is the king well satisfied,
Thinkest thou, Albinus, we shall bring him back
To Rome subjected, or to Rome in blood?
albinus.
My lord, by midnight all will be prepared;
Tarquin already reaps the promised harvest;
From you, once more, receives the diadem,
And owns himself indebted more to Aruns
Than to Porsenna.
aruns.
Or the envious gods,
Foes to our hapless sovereign, must destroy
Our fair design, well worthy of their aid;
Or by to-morrow’s dawn rebellious Rome
Shall own a master; Rome perhaps in ashes,
Or bathing in her blood. But better is it
A king should rule o’er an unhappy people,
Who are obedient, than in plenty’s lap,
O’er a proud nation, who are still perverse
And obstinate, because they are too happy.
Albinus, I attend the Princess here
In secret—Stay, Messala.
SCENE II.
aruns, messala.
aruns.
Touching Titus,
What has thou done? couldst thou prevail on him
To serve the cause of Tarquin? couldst thou bind
His haughty soul?
messala.
No: I presumed too far;
He is inflexible: he loves his country,
And has too much of Brutus in him; murmurs
Against the senate, but still dotes on Tullia:
Pride and ambition, love and jealousy,
Opened, I thought, a passage to his soul,
And gave my arts some promise of success;
But, strange infatuation! liberty
Prevailed o’er all: his love is desperate,
Yet Rome is stronger even than love: in vain
I strove, by slow degrees, to efface the horror
Which Rome had taught his foolish heart to feel
Even at the name of king; in vain opposed
His rooted prejudice; the very mention
Of Tarquin fired his soul; he would not hear me,
But broke off the discourse: I must have gone
Too far, had I persisted.
aruns.
Then, Messala,
There are no hopes of him.
messala.
Much less reluctant
I found his brother; one of Brutus’ sons,
At least is ours.
aruns.
Already hast thou gained
Tiberius? by what lucky art, Messala—
messala.
His own ambition did it all: long time,
With jealous eye, hath he beheld the honors
Heaped on his brother, that eclipse his own;
The wreath of laurel, and the pomp of triumph,
The waving ensigns, with the people’s love,
And Brutus’ fondness, lavished all on Titus,
Like deepest injuries, sunk into his soul,
And helped to fill the poisoned cup of envy;
Whilst Titus, void of malice or revenge,
Too much superior to be jealous of him,
Stretched forth his hand from his triumphal car,
As if he wished to give his brother part
Of all his glories: I embraced, with joy,
The lucky minute; pointed out the paths
Of glory; promised, in the name of Tarquin,
All the fair honors Rome could give, the throne