SCENE I--A CLOUDY MORNING IN THE FORUM.

_Busy passing to and fro of citizens. Enter Cornelia and Tiberius, attended by two slaves. The former appears embarrassed, fluttered, and distressed, the latter troubled and concerned._

_Cor._ Gods! How the people stare upon me, brother! Alas! They reek not of a woman's heart, But judge me bold and courting their attention, I who am hungry for one gaze alone, Yet can not find. So many days have passed, No tidings from my love hath reached mine ears, And rumors that he's dead hath driven me Close unto madness. All my slaves have sought, But failed to find him. I am desperate! Surely the ears of one who loves will hear, Surely the eyes of one who loves will see, And learn his fate, whether for good or ill. He will forgive me for exposing her He loveth to the gaze of multitudes!

_Tib._ Ay, but most likely he was called to serve Rome in the latest skirmish with her foes. Thy fear it is unfounded.

_Cor._ Nay, my child, The skirmishing they say is discontinued, And all who fought therein returned unto The camp, save only those who fell beneath The Sabine spears. My Love hath not been seen, And I can rest no longer in my house.

[_While they speak, the already clouded sky darkens so rapidly that all start and look out across the populated hills. A distant peal of thunder is heard, followed by a second, greater in volume. All press together, then a cry arises:_ "Way, make way! The sibyl of the vale would speak! She is inspired!" _The dense crowd parts and all swing backward in confusion. A flash of lightning breaks the heavy gloom, followed by a muttering of thunder. A few large raindrops fall. The sibyl enters through the multitude, a weird, mad form, with tossing hair and wild, disheveled garments._

_Sibyl._ Wail, walls of Rome, and weep, ye tender vales Of sweet Italia!

[_A murmur and a swaying. Voices contend for silence._

Oh! day of dole! Oh, day of perfect woe! Oh, Furies' day Of fever and of tears! Oh, black despair! The night of tyranny hath settled o'er Our city, roof-like shuts her from the air Of Heaven! And the hollow, brazen dome Of despotism closes o'er our heads; Black tyranny and red-hot despotism! Had I hands long enough and nails as sharp As Hate, I'd tear in shreds the infernal web!

[_Another peal of thunder resounds. She points toward the heavy clouds._

My tongue is laden with the vast commands Of Jove, to-day. But Rome is deaf and mad. The gods cry out upon this tyranny, The heavens in thunder clap their wrathful hands! Yet Rome, the Rome of Romulus, the Rome Of Numa and the martial kings of old, Is deaf--is deaf and mad! Oh! woe, woe, woe!

[_With a prolonged, shrill wail of despair she vanishes amid the crowd. Great agitation now displayed by the majority of citizens. Enter a runner._

_Run._ Ye men of Rome, I bear ill news with me!

_The Cit._ What is't? Out with it! Dally not at all!

_Run._ Sicinius, our leader, he is dead!

[_A murmur of horror._

_Cor._ (_starting wildly forward_). Sicinius? Sicinius, the pleb? Oh! gods of Heaven! Ye have struck me hard!

[_She sinks insensible upon the ground. Her slaves bend over her. Tiberius kneels beside her, sobbing bitterly._

_The Cit._ How died he?

_Run._ It is said by some that he, Being sent by the Decemvirs to select A spot most suitable whereon to camp, Fell into ambuscade and died along With several comrades.

_The Cit._ Slaughtered by the foe?

_Run._ So it hath been reported by the few That did escape. [_He pauses, then proceeds._ But hearken, citizens! The bodies lay unspoil'd, with faces turned All toward one--that one, Sicinius. The Ten hath hated and hath feared this man! No more. Construe the meaning as ye list; I must away.

[_Exit runner. The four citizens, Horatius, Galba, Marius, and Hortensius, approach the prone form of Cornelia._

_Hor._ A lady of patrician birth! Good slaves, Can we assist thy mistress, who appears In such a piteous and hapless plight?

_Slave_ (_sobbing_). Alas! Alas! I know not what to do, Or what hath come upon her suddenly. Ah! see, she stirs! Lady, awake! awake!

_Cor._ (_opening her eyes, but making no attempt to raise herself_). Those words he used when last he came to me. Oh! bitter, bitter fate! Say not awake, But sleep eternally! Sicinius!

_Galba._ It doth appear affection did exist Betwixt Rome's great plebeian and this lady.

_Tib._ Ay, sir, she loved him e'en as he loved her; But naught was said because they feared the Ten. Nay, I was wrong! Sicinius and fear Are alien the one unto the other! But rather did he bide his time until These men should be o'erthrown and Rome be freed From their most hateful laws and government.

_One of the multitude._ Hark to the boy! He is a demagogue.

_Another._ Nay, he is innocent, and therefore bold. Parroting sentiments that are not his own.

_A third._ And yet he speaks the truth, the naked truth. See how this woman hath been sadly wronged, And how her life is marred by these Decemvirs; For surely they gave orders for the death Of him who was a leader and a man! Have they not feared him for these many months, Because his tongue is sharper than a sword? And these two, a patrician and a pleb, Each representing classes now united By common misery, are foully hurt, And scarred by fierce injustice from the Ten. Vengeance! The time is ripe for vengeance. Rome Can bear no more. Sicinius is dead!

[_Murmurs of_ "Sicinius is dead!"

_Cor._ (_moaning as in pain_). Sicinius is dead! Sicinius!

[_Enter Virginia, followed by Camilla. She espies Cornelia and at once approaches._

_Virg._ Kind citizens, let me to her, I pray.

[_She kneels beside the fainting girl._

Oh, tearful sight! Ah me, most sorrowful! Thou art Cornelia, whom I oft have seen, Of whom I've heard from thy dear lover's lips. I knew him well; he waits for thee beyond The sea, in the broad Islands of the Blest, Where heroes find a haven and a rest.

[_She smooths the other's brow in silence for a space, and then proceeds._

Look up, poor broken spirit, and discern A friendly face and weep upon my heart. She will not rouse herself! Good people, pray, Press not upon her. Bring a car, O slave, The lady is unable to return On foot. The carriage waits without the place? 'Tis well. And now to bring her to herself! Cornelia, waken! But look not so cold. Thou gentle heart! relieve the strain of grief With tears of passion. Then come home, come home.

_Cor._ (_rousing herself_). Tell me, who art thou, O thou noble 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, God! He is not dead?

_Virg._ (_assisting 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; assist me with thy stricken sister.

[_As the three, the slaves in close attendance, are about to make their way through the multitude, 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 gods! 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. Gods! 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 multitude._ 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.

_Multitude._ 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 multitude._ 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?

_Multitude._ 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 noble 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.

_Cam._ Thy lictor shall not lay his hands upon me! My place is here. My voice shall speak for her, Nor fear thee, king of tyrants and despoilers! Long have I inwardly foreseen this day, And prayed the gods to change the hand of Fate. It seems my prayers are valueless. But still, Still there does yet remain to me--my _curse_! And all shall feel its potency who dare To lay a finger on Virginia.

[_She faces Marcus Claudius with her arm extended and her manner menacing._

Thou, fool of fools, who ventured to pollute The purest virgin breathing in this land, Because thou placed thy hand upon her flesh, Which is as perfect as her perfect soul, I curse thee--ay, and with a heavy curse, For that which thou hast done! Thy misery Shall soon exceed even thy trespasses, Which in themselves are countless as the stars. Be cursed, and live accursed and die accursed! And be my witnesses, O, all ye gods!

[_She turns toward Appius--her attitude becomes calm, and majestic._

And as for thee--I fear thee not. My curse Shall rest on thee according to thine actions. This much I have to say--thy tyranny And rule of blood is waning to its close. Beware, nor haste thy doom before its time.

_Marc._ (_trembling_). Seize on her, some of you, for she is mad.

_One of the multitude._ Nay, she is gifted with strange prophecy. She voices Jove.

[_A tumult now arises in the background. Icilius springs forward with a cry._

_Icilius._ Virginia! Turn to me!

[_He faces Marcus Claudius, and with one blow strikes him down, then clasps Virginia in his arms._

_Virginia_ (_sobbing wildly_). And hast thou come at last?

_Icilius_ (_tenderly to her_). Courage, dear heart!

[_To Appius._

Now, as a free-born Roman, I demand An explanation and a satisfaction!

[_To Marcus, who essays to speak._

Silence, thou hound, ere I forget myself And murder thee! Thine answer, Appius?

_Appius._ Lictor, part thou the twain.

_Icilius._ Thou canst not, lictor! In common manhood and as her betrothed, Thus do I hold to her against the world.

_Appius._ Then, lictor, strike!

_Virginia._ Now, intervene, ye gods! Icilius, my love! Oh! men of Rome, Have ye indeed forgot Lucretia?

[_Swaying of the multitude. Appius Claudius rises in his car._

_Appius._ Be prudent, ye who do desire to see Full justice. We must hark to every plea, And will to-morrow judge the case. Till then, Thou, Marcus, guard the maiden, since the man Virginius is absent from the town.

[_A hissing protest from the multitude and a cry from Virginia follows this announcement. Icilius faces the Chief Decemvir with blazing eyes, and draws Virginia closer._

_Icilius._ Over my body only shall yon hound Of Hell seize on her. I am yet a man With strength to shield or life to sacrifice For that which is mine own. Sleep 'neath his roof? I'd sooner see her cold upon her bier, Or bound upon the wheel of Ixion, Enduring tortures of the damned themselves! With him? I'd rather cast her to a wolf, Who, merciful, would tear her into shreds And leave her pure, or o'er Tarpeia's Rock, And with mine eyes behold her perfect form Shattered upon the kindly stones below, Ere Marcus Claudius lay hands on her.

_Marius._ Ay, he is right; the maiden yet is free. The charge hath not been proven, Appius!

_Appius._ So be it. We will acquiesce thus far, But lictors must be stationed as a guard About the house wherein she spends the night, Lest she escape and law be unfulfilled.

_Cor._ (_coming forward_). I will go thither and attend this night Upon her. Thou, Tiberius, return Home with the slaves. To-morrow meet me here.

_Slave._ Lady, thy lips are white and thou art ill. See, thou dost tremble.

_Cor._ Woman, what of that? How canst thou weigh my pallor with her pain-- The anguish in her eyes? What though I shake As with an ague? She herself is turned To stone with horror deeper than mine own. A living sorrow doth exceed a dead; Death to dishonor seemeth merciful. _Her_ blow is heavy with the weight of dread, _Mine_ light with hope. Did she not succor me? How can I fail her in her time of need?

_Appius._ Lictors, take into custody yon man. Lest he do mischief.

_Icilius._ By the almighty gods! Unhand me! I will kill thee, as a man Would kill a beast. Ah! foulest trick to seize Upon me from the rear. Oh, God! Oh, God!

[_He sinks helpless upon the stones at Virginia's feet, two lictors binding him firmly with cords. The storm now breaks, shrieking in maddest fury, the lightning playing over the hills of Rome._