ACT V

_Cassandra_ [_alone upon the stage, standing where she can see the interior of the palace, describes what is going on there; or else she sees it by clairvoyant power_]: Great deeds are done within, the cruel match For ten long years of suffering at Troy. Alas, what do they there? Arise, my soul, And take reward for thy mad prophecies. The conquered Phrygians are victors now. 'Tis well! O Troy, thou risest from the dust, 870 For thou hast now to equal ruin brought Mycenae too. Low lies thy conqueror. Oh, ne'er before has my prophetic soul So clearly seen the things of which it raved. I see, and no false image cheats my sight, I see it plainly, there, within the hall, 875 A royal feast is spread, and thronged with guests, Like that last fatal feast of ours at Troy. The couches gleam with Trojan tapestries; Their wine they quaff from rare old cups of gold That once cheered great Assaracus; and see, The king himself, in 'broidered vestment clad, Sits high in triumph at the table's head, 880 With Priam's noble spoils upon his breast. Now comes his queen and bids him put away The garment which his enemy has worn, And don instead the robe which she has made With loving thoughts of him. Oh, horrid deed! I shudder at the sight. Shall that base man, That exile, smite a king? the paramour The husband slay? The fatal hour has come. 885 The second course shall flow with royal blood, And gory streams shall mingle with the wine. And now the king has donned the deadly robe, Which gives him bound and helpless to his fate. His hands no outlet find; the clinging gown Enwraps his head in dark and smothering folds. With trembling hand the coward paramour 890 Now smites the king, but not with deadly wound; For in mid stroke his nerveless hand is stayed. But, as some shaggy boar in forest wilds, Within the net's strong meshes caught, still strives And strains to burst his bonds, yet all in vain: So Agamemnon seeks to throw aside 895 The floating, blinding folds. In vain; and yet, Though blind and bound, he seeks his enemy. Now frenzied Clytemnestra snatches up A two-edged battle-ax; and, as the priest, Before he smites the sacrificial bull, Marks well the spot and meditates his aim: So she her impious weapon balances. 900 He has the blow. 'Tis done. The severed head Hangs loosely down, and floods the trunk with gore. Nor do they even yet their weapons stay: The base-born wretch hacks at the lifeless corpse, While she, his mate, pursues her bloody task. 905 So each responds to each in infamy. Thyestes' son in very truth is he, While she to Helen proves her sisterhood. The sun stands doubtful on the edge of day; Shall he go on or backward bend his way?

[_Remains beside the altar._]

[_Enter_ Electra, _leading her little brother_, Orestes.]

_Electra:_ Flee, sole avenger of my father's death, 910 Oh, flee, and shun these impious butchers' hands. Our royal house is utterly o'erthrown, Our kingdom gone. But see, a stranger comes, His horses driven to their utmost speed; Come, brother, hide thyself beneath my robe. But, O my foolish heart, whom dost thou fear? 915 A stranger? Nay, thy foes are here at home. Put off thy fears, for close at hand I see The timely shelter of a faithful friend.

[_Enter_ Strophius _in a chariot, accompanied by his son_ Pylades.]

_Strophius:_ I, Strophius, had left my Phocian realm, And now, illustrious with th' Olympic palm, I home return. My hither course is bent To 'gratulate my friend, by whose assault 920 Has Ilium fallen after years of war. [_Noticing_ Electra's _distress_.] But why these flowing tears and looks of woe? And why these marks of fear? I recognize In thee the royal house. Electra! Why, When all is joyful here, dost thou lament?

_Electra:_ My father lies within the palace, slain 925 By Clytemnestra's hand. His son is doomed To share his father's death. Aegisthus holds The throne which he through guilty love has gained.

_Strophius:_ Oh, happiness that never long endures!

_Electra:_ By all thy kindly memories of my sire, By his proud scepter, known to all the earth, 930 And by the fickle gods, I pray thee take My brother hence, and hide him from his foes.

_Strophius:_ Although dead Agamemnon bids me fear, I'll brave the danger and thy brother save. Good fortune asks for faith; adversity Compels us to be true. [_Takes_ Orestes _into the chariot_.] My lad, attend: Wear this wild-olive wreath upon thy brow, 935 The noble prize I won on Pisa's plain; And hold above thy head this leafy branch, The palm of victory, that it may be A shield and omen of success to thee. And do thou too, O Pylades, my son, 940 Who dost as comrade guide thy father's car, From my example faith in friendship learn. Do you, swift steeds, before the eyes of Greece Speed on in flight, and leave this faithless land.

[_Exeunt at great speed._]

_Electra_ [_looking after them_]: So is he gone. His car at reckless pace Fast vanishes from sight. And now my foes, 945 With heart released from care, will I await, And willingly submit my head to death. Here comes the bloody conqueror of her lord, And bears upon her robes the stains of blood. Her hands still reek with gore, and in her face She bears the witness of her impious crime. 950 I'll hie me to the shrine; and, kneeling here, I'll join Cassandra in our common fear.

[_Enter_ Clytemnestra, _fresh from the murder of her husband_.]

_Clytemnestra_ [_to_ Electra]: Thou base, unfilial, and froward girl, Thy mother's foe, by what authority Dost thou, a virgin, seek the public gaze?

_Electra:_ Because I am a virgin have I left 955 The tainted home of vile adulterers.

_Clytemnestra:_ Who would believe thee chaste?

_Electra:_ I am thy child.

_Clytemnestra:_ Thou shouldst thy mother speak with gentler tongue.

_Electra:_ Shall I learn filial piety of thee?

_Clytemnestra:_ Thou hast a mannish soul, too puffed with pride; But tamed by suffering thou soon shalt learn To play a woman's part.

_Electra:_ A woman's part! Yea, truly, 'tis to wield the battle-ax. 960

_Clytemnestra:_ Thou fool, dost think thyself a match for us?

_Electra:_ "For us?" Hast thou another husband then? Speak thou as widow, for thy lord is dead.

_Clytemnestra:_ As queen I soon shall curb thy saucy tongue, And break thy pride. But meanwhile quickly tell, 965 Where is my son, where is thy brother hid?

_Electra:_ Far from Mycenae fled.

_Clytemnestra:_ Then bring him back.

_Electra:_ Bring back my father too.

_Clytemnestra:_ Where lurks the boy?

_Electra:_ In safety, where he fears no rival's power. This will content a loving mother.

_Clytemnestra:_ Yes, But not an angry one. Thou diest today. 970

_Electra:_ Oh, let me perish by thy practiced hand! Behold, I leave the altar's sheltering side; Wilt plunge the knife into my tender throat? I yield me to thy will. Or dost prefer At one fell stroke to smite away my head? My neck awaits thy deadly aim. Let crime 975 By other crime be purged. Thy hands are stained And reeking with thy murdered husband's blood: Come, cleanse them in the fresher stream of mine.

[_Enter_ Aegisthus.]

_Clytemnestra:_ Thou partner of my perils and my throne, Aegisthus, come; this most unnatural child Assails her mother and her brother hides. 980

_Aegisthus:_ Thou mad and foolish girl, restrain thy tongue, For such wild words offend thy mother's ears.

_Electra:_ Thou arch contriver of most impious crime, Wilt thou admonish me? Thou base-born wretch, Thou sister's son, and grandson of thy sire! 985

_Clytemnestra:_ Aegisthus, how canst thou restrain thy hand From smiting off her head? But hear my word: Let her give up her brother or her life.

_Aegisthus:_ Nay, rather, in some dark and stony cell Let her be straight confined; and there, perchance, By cruel tortures racked, will she give up 990 Whom now she hides. Resourceless, starving there, In dank and loathsome solitude immured, Widowed, ere wedded, exiled, scorned of all-- Then will she, though too late, to fortune yield.

_Electra:_ Oh, grant me death.

_Aegisthus:_ If thou shouldst plead for life, I'd grant thee death. A foolish ruler he, 995 Who balances by death the score of sin.

_Electra:_ Can any punishment be worse than death?

_Aegisthus:_ Yes! Life for those who wish to die. Away, Ye slaves, seek out some dark and lonely cave, Far from Mycenae's bounds; and there in chains, Confine this bold, unmanageable maid, If haply prison walls may curb her will. 1000

[Electra _is led away_.]

_Clytemnestra_ [_indicating_ Cassandra]: But she shall die, that rival of my couch, That captive bride. Go, drag her hence at once, That she may follow him she stole from me.

_Cassandra:_ Nay, drag me not; for I with joy will go, Outstripping your desire. How eagerly I hasten to my Phrygians, to tell 1005 The news: the ocean covered with the wrecks Of Argive ships; Mycenae overthrown; The leader of a thousand leaders slain (And thus atoning for the woes of Troy) By woman's gift of wantonness and guile. Make haste! I falter not, but thank the gods, 1010 That I have lived to see my land avenged.

_Clytemnestra:_ O maddened wretch, thy death I wait to see.

_Cassandra:_ A fateful madness waits as well for thee.

OCTAVIA

OCTAVIA

A FABULA PRAETEXTA

THE ONLY EXTANT ROMAN HISTORICAL DRAMA

INTRODUCTION

The Roman historical drama had a place among the earliest products of Roman literature, and seems to have enjoyed a degree of popularity through all succeeding periods. That Roman literary genius did not find a much fuller expression through this channel was not due to a lack of national pride and patriotism, nor yet to a dearth of interesting and inspiring subjects in Roman history. The true reason is probably to be found in the fact that by the time national conditions were ripe for the development of any form of literature, the Greeks had already worked, and well worked, nearly all available fields, and had produced a mass of literature which dazzled the Roman mind when at last circumstances brought these two nations into closer contact.

The natural and immediate result was an attempt on the part of the Romans to imitate these great models. And hence we have in drama, both in tragedy and comedy, a wholesale imitation of the Greek dramas, oftentimes nothing more than a translation of these, with only here and there an attempt to produce something of a strictly native character, entirely independent of the Greek influence.

This imitative impulse was augmented by the fact that the Romans were following the line of least resistance, since it is always easier to imitate than to create. Furthermore, they had as yet developed no national pride of literature to hold them to their own lines of national development; they had no forms of their own so well established that the mere force of literary momentum would carry them steadily on toward a fuller development, in spite of the disturbing influences of the influx of other and better models. They had, indeed, developed a native Saturnian verse which, had it been allowed a free field, might have reached a high pitch of literary excellence. But it speedily gave way at the approach of the more elegant imported forms.

The overwhelming influence of Greek tragedy upon the Roman dramatists can be seen at a glance as we review the dramatic product of the Roman tragedians. We have titles and fragments of nine tragedies by Livius Andronicus, seven by Naevius, twenty-two by Ennius, thirteen by Pacuvius, forty-six by Accius, and many unassignable fragments from each of these which indicate numerous other plays of the same character. To these should be added scattering additions from nearly a score more of Roman writers during the next two hundred years after Accius. All the above-mentioned plays are on Greek subjects; and most of those whose fragments are sufficiently extensive to allow us to form an opinion of their character are either translations or close imitations of the Greeks, or are so influenced by these as to be decidedly Greek rather than Roman in character.

And what of the genuine Roman dramatic product? Speaking for the _fabula praetexta_, or Roman historical drama, alone, the entire output, so far as our records go, is contained in the following list of authors and titles.

From Naevius (265-204 B.C.) we have the _Clastidium_, written in celebration of the victory of Marcellus over Vidumarus, king of the Transpadane Gauls, whom Marcellus slew and stripped of his armor, thus gaining the rare _spolia opima_; this at Clastidium in 222 B.C. The play was probably written for the especial occasion either of the triumph of Marcellus or of the celebration of his funeral.

We have also from Naevius a play variously entitled _Lupus_ or _Romulus_ or _Alimonium Remi et Romuli_, evidently one of those dramatic reproductions of scenes in the life of a god, enacted as a part of the ceremonies of his worship. These are comparable to similar dramatic representations among the Greeks in the worship of Dionysus.

The _Ambracia_ and the _Sabinae_ of Ennius (239-169 B.C.) are ordinarily classed as _fabulae praetextae_, although Lucian Müller classes the fragments of the _Ambracia_ among the _Saturae_ of Ennius; while Vahlen puts the _Ambracia_ under the heading _Comoediarum et ceterorum carminum reliquiae_, and classifies the fragments of the _Sabinae_ under _ex incertis saturarum libris_. The _Ambracia_ is evidently called after the city of that name in Epirus, celebrated for the long and remarkable siege which it sustained against the Romans under M. Fulvius Nobilior. That general finally captured the city in 189 B.C. If the piece is to be considered as a play, it was, like the _Clastidium_, written in honor of a Roman general, and acted on the occasion either of his triumph or of his funeral.

We have four short fragments from the _Paulus_ of Pacuvius (220-130 B.C.), written in celebration of the exploits of L. Aemilius Paulus who conquered Perseus, king of Macedonia, in the battle of Pydna, 168 B.C.

The fragments of the plays already mentioned are too brief to afford any adequate idea of the character or content of the plays. But in the _Brutus_ of Accius (b. 170 B.C.), which centers around the expulsion of the Tarquins and the establishment of the Republic, we have a larger glimpse into the play through two most interesting fragments consisting of twelve iambic trimeters and ten trochaic tetrameters, respectively. In the first, King Tarquin relates to his seer an ill-ominous dream which he has had; the second is the seer's interpretation of this dream, pointing to Tarquin's dethronement by Brutus. Other short fragments give glimpses of the outrage of Lucretia by Sextus at Collatia, and the scene in the forum where Brutus takes his oath of office as first consul. This play, unlike its predecessors, was not written at the time of the events which it portrays, but may still be classed with them, so far as its object is concerned, since it is generally thought to have been written in honor of D. Junius Brutus who was consul in 138 B.C., and with whom the poet enjoyed an intimate friendship.

Another _praetexta_ of Accius is preserved, the _Decius_, of which eleven short fragments remain. This play celebrates the victory of Quintus Fabius Maximus and P. Decius Mus over the Samnites and Gauls at Sentinum in 295 B.C. The climax of the play would be the self-immolation of Decius after the example of his father in the Latin war of 340 B.C.

In addition to these plays of the Roman dramatists of the Republic, we have knowledge of a few which date from later times. There was a historical drama entitled _Iter_, by L. Cornelius Balbus, who dramatized the incidents of a journey which he made to Pompey's camp at Dyrrachium at the opening of civil war in 49 B.C. Balbus was under commission from Caesar to treat with the consul, L. Cornelius Lentulus, and other optimates who had fled from Rome, concerning their return to the city. The journey was a complete fiasco, so far as results were concerned; but the vanity of Balbus was so flattered by his (to him) important mission that he must needs dramatize his experiences and present the play under his own direction in his native city of Gades.

We have mention also of an _Aeneas_ by Pomponius Secundus, and of two _praetextae_ by Curiatius Maternus, entitled _Domitius_ and _Cato_.

These eleven historical plays are, as we have seen, for the most part, plays of occasion, and would be at best of but temporary interest, born of the special circumstances which inspired them. They are in no way comparable with such historical dramas on Roman subjects as Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_ or _Coriolanus_, whose interest is for all times.

We have still a twelfth play of this class, which enjoys the unique distinction of being the only Roman historical drama which has come down to us--the _Octavia_. Its authorship is unknown, although tradition gives it a place among the tragedies of Seneca, the philosopher. The general opinion of modern critics, however, is against this tradition, chiefly because one passage in the play, in the form of a prophecy, too circumstantially describes the death of Nero, which occurred three years after the death of Seneca. It is generally agreed that the play must have been written soon after the death of Nero, and by some one, possibly Maternus, who had been an eye-witness of the events, and who had been inspired by his sympathies for the unfortunate Octavia to write this story of her sufferings.

OCTAVIA

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

OCTAVIA Stepsister and wife of Nero.

_Nurse_ of Octavia.

_Poppaea_ Mistress and afterward wife of Nero.

_Ghost of Agrippina_ Mother of Nero, slain by him.

_Nero_ Emperor of Rome.

_Seneca_ Former tutor of Nero, and later one of his chief counselors.

_Prefect of Roman Soldiers._

_Messenger._

_Chorus of Romans_ Sympathetic with Octavia.

_Chorus_ Attached to the interests of the court.

THE SCENE is laid throughout in different apartments of the palace of Nero, and is concerned with the events of the year 62 A.D.