And saw him bend, by slow degrees, before me:
He’s yours, my lord, and longs to speak with you
aruns.
Will he deliver the Quirinal gate,
Messala?
messala.
Titus is commander there,
And he alone can give it us: already
His virtues have been fatal to our purpose;
He is the guardian deity of Rome:
The attack is dangerous: without his support
Success were doubtful, with it all is certain.
aruns.
If he solicited the consulship,
Thinkest thou he would refuse the sovereign power
The sure reversion of a throne with Tullia?
messala.
’Twere an affront to his exalted virtue
To offer him a throne.
aruns.
And Tullia with it?
messala.
O he adores her; and even loves her more,
Because he strives to hate; detests the father,
And rages for the daughter; dreads to speak,
Yet mourns in silence; seeks her everywhere,
Yet shuns her presence, and drinks up his tears
In secret anguish: all the rage of love
Possesses him; sometimes in storms like these
A lucky moment turns the wavering mind.
Titus, I know, is turbulent and bold;
And, if we gain him, may, perhaps, go further
Even than we wish: who knows but fierce ambition
May yet rekindle by the torch of love!
His heart would glow with pleasure, to behold
The trembling senate prostrate at his feet.
Yet, let me not deceive you with the hopes,
That Titus ever will be ours; once more,
However, I shall try his stubborn virtue.
aruns.
If still he loves, I shall depend on him:
One look of Tullia’s, one sweet word from her,
Will soften his reluctant heart much more,
Than all the arts of Aruns or Messala:
For, O, believe me, we must hope for naught
From men, but through their weakness and their follies:
Titus and Tullia must promote our cause;
The one’s ambition, and the other’s love:
These, these, my friend, are the conspirators
That best will serve the king: from them I hope
Much more than from myself.
[Exit Messala.
SCENE III.
tullia, aruns, algina.
aruns.
This letter, Madam,
With orders to deliver it to your hands,
I have received from Tarquin.
tullia.
Gracious heaven!
Preserve my father, and reverse his fate!
[She reads.
“The throne of Rome may from its ashes rise,
And he who was the conqueror of his king
Be his restorer: Titus is a hero,
He must defend that sceptre which I wish
To share with him. Remember, O my Tullia,
That Tarquin gave thee life; remember too,
My fate depends on thee; thou mayest refuse
Liguria’s king: if Titus be thy choice,
He’s mine; receive him for thy husband.”
Ha!
Read I aright! Titus! impossible!
Could Tarquin, could my father, still unmoved
In all his sorrows, thus at last relent?
How could he know, or whence—
[Turning to Messala.
Alas, my lord,
’Tis but to search the secrets of my heart
You try me thus: pity a wretched princess,
Nor spread your snares for helpless youth like mine.
aruns.
Madam, I only mean to obey your father,
And serve his honored daughter; for your secrets,
In me it were presumption to remove
The sacred veil which you have drawn before them;
My duty only bids me say, that heaven
By you determines to restore our empire.
tullia.
And is it possible, that Tullia thus
Should be the friend of Tarquin, and the wife
Of Titus?
aruns.
Doubt it not: that noble hero
Already burns to serve the royal race:
His generous heart abhors the savage fierceness
Of this new commonweal; his pride was hurt
By their refusal of his just demand:
The work’s half done, and thou must finish it.
I have not looked into his heart; but sure,
If he knows Tullia well, he must adore her:
Who could behold, unmoved, a diadem
By thee presented, and with thee adorned?
Speak to him then, for thou alone hast power
To triumph o’er this enemy of kings:
No longer let the senate boast of Titus,
Their best support, the guardian god of Rome;
But be it Tullia’s glory to possess
The great defender of her father’s cause,
And crush his foes to ruin.
SCENE IV.
tullia, algina.
tullia.
Gracious heaven!
How much I owe to thy propitious goodness!
My tears have moved thee: all is changed; and now
Thy justice, smiling on my passion, gives
New strength and freedom to the glorious flame.
Fly, my Algina, bring him hither: gods!
Does he avoid me still, or knows he