Rienzi, Colonna, Ursini, Frangipani, Cafarello, Angelo, Savelli, the Nuncio, Ambassador, Nobles. Rie. WHY, this Is well, my lords, this full assemblage. Now I should have ask'd thy blessing. I have sent Thy fairest daughter. Angelo, Colonna, Rome lack'd half her state Wanting her princely columns. Col. Sir, I come A suitor to thee. Martin Ursini Rie. When last his name was on thy lips 'Well, sir, Thy suit, thy suit! If pardon, take at once Ang. Yet, mercy— Rie. Angelo, Waste not thy pleadings on a desperate cause And a resolved spirit. She awaits thee. Haste to that fairer court. My lord Colonna, This is a needful justice. Col. Noble Tribune, It is a crime which custom Rie. Ay, the law (Exit Angelo.) Of the strong against the weak-your law, the law Under the good estate. Sav. He is a noble. Rie. Therefore, A thousand times he dies. (Crossing to the centre.) Ye are noble, sirs, Col. Sick, almost to death. Rie. Ye have less cause to grieve. Rie. Ay, Madonna Laura is a blooming dame, And will become her weeds. Caf. Remember, Tribune, He hath two uncles, cardinals. Wouldst outrage Rie. The lord cardinals, Meek, pious, lowly men, and loving virtue, Col. An Ursini! Head of the Ursini! Urs. Mine only brother! Rie. And darest talk thou to me of brothers? Thou, Whose groom-wouldst have me break my own just laws, To save thy brother? thine! Hast thou forgotten When that most beautiful and blameless boy, Had open trial, is guilty, is condemn'd— And he shall die! If Col. Yet listen to us! Rie. Lords, before me all the peers, ye could range For some vile petty theft, some paltry scudi- There, midst the dangerous coil unmoved, she stood, And those poor innocent babes between the stones Sav. Yet he is noble ! Let him not die a felon's death. Rie. Again, Ye weary me. No more of this. Colonna, Thy son loves my fair daughter. 'Tis a union, And now A fair good-morrow. (Exit all but Savelli, Colonna, and Ursini.) Sav. Hath stern destiny Clothed him in this man's shape, that in a breath Col. I'll follow him! Tyrant! usurper! base-born churl! to deem That son of mine Urs. Submit, as I have done, For vengeance. From our grief and shame shall spring A second retribution. The fatal moment Of our disgrace is nigh. Ere evening close, Col. I'll take thy counsel. MITFORD 189.-SCENE FROM CATILINE. Catiline and Aurelius. Aur. WHAT answer's for this pile of bills, my lord? Cat. Who can have sent them here? Aur. Your creditors! As if some demon woke them all at once, These having been crowding on me since the morn. The interest on your bond, ten thousand more. Here, for your Persian horses-your trireme : Aur. It must be now; this day! Or, by to-morrow, we shall have no home. Aur. We are undone ! Cat. Aurelius ! All will be well; but hear me-stay-a little : On our departure-from-the city. Aur. (Indignantly and surprised.) Rome! Cat. Even so, Aurelius! even so; we must leave Rome. Cat. I know not what I am,-we must be gone! Cat. The gods will have it so! Aur. Seize on your house? Cat. Seize my last sesterce! Let them have their will. We must endure. Ay, ransack-ruin all; Tear up my father's grave, tear out my heart. The world is wide-Can we not dig or beg? Can we not find on earth a den and tomb! Aur. Before I stir, they shall hew off my hands. Aur. Now hear me, Catiline : This day 'tis three years since there was not in Rome, An eye, however haughty, but would sink When I turn'd on it: when I pass'd the streets My chariot-wheel was hung on by a host Cat. 'Twas so! 'twas so ! But it is vanish'd-gone. Aur. That day shall come again; or, in its place, One that shall be an era to the world' Cat. What's in your thoughts! Aur. Our high and hurried life Has left us strangers to each other's souls: But now we think alike. You have a sword! Have had a famous name in the legions! Cat. Hush! Aur. Have the walls ears? alas! I wish they had; And tongues too, to bear witness to my oath, And tell it to all Rome. Cat. Would you destroy? Rome's ship is rotten: Has she not cast you out; and would you sink Who'd face the pestilence in his foe's house? Cat. It will not come to this. Aur. (Haughtily.) I'll not be dragg'd, A show to all the city rabble ;-robb'd, Down to the very mantle on our backs, A pair of branded beggars! Doubtless Cicero Cat. Cursed be the ground he treads! name him no more. Aur. Doubtless, he'll see us to the city gates; "Twill be the least respect that he can pay For Catiline for him that would be consul." Cat. (Turning away.) Thus to be, like the scorpion ring'd with fire, |