A little worthless village cur, all night

Bay with incessant noise the silver moon,

While she, serene, throned in her pearléd car,
Sailed in full state along--But Sextus' judgment
Owns not his words,—and the resemblance glances
On others, not on him.

Ser. Let it glance where and upon whom it will,
Sextus is mighty careless of the matter.

Now hear what I have seen. I've seen young men,
Who, having fancied they have found perfection-
Col. Sextus, no more-lest I forget myself,
And thee. I tell thee, prince-

Aruns. Nay, hold!

Sextus, you go too far.

Sex. Why, pray, good sir, may I not praise the wife Of this same testy, froward husband here, But on his cheek offence must quivering sit? And dreamed of insult!-the abortive child Of misconstruction, whose near-sighted eye Discerns not jest for real.

humour:

Col. I heed you not-jest on; I'll aid your
Let Aruns use me for his princely laughter,
Let Claudius deck me with ironic praise;
But when you touch a nearer, dearer subject,
Perish the man, nay, may he doubly perish,
Who can sit still, and hear, with skulking coolness,
The least abuse, or shadow of a slight,

Cast on the woman whom he loves! though here
Your praise or blame are pointless equally,
Nor really add the least, nor take away

From her true value, more than they could add
To th' holy gods.

ope

Aruns. If that a man might dare to
his lips
When Collatinus frowns, I would presume
To say one word in praise of my own wife;
And I will say, could our eyes stretch to Rome,
In spite of the perfections of Lucretia,

My wife, who loves her fire-side, and hates gadding,
Would prove far otherwise employed-and better,-
Ay, better, as a woman, than the deity

Residing at Collatia.

Sex. [Aside.] Well timed;-I'll seize th' occasion:

ew this Lucretia ere I sleep, and satisfy - senses whether fame has told the truth.

oud.] I'll stake my life on't-Let us mount our horses. d post away this instant towards Roine.

at we shall find thy wife, and his, and his, aking the most of this, their liberty.

hy, 'tis the sex: enjoying to the full

ne swing of licence which their husbands' absence
fords. I'll stake my life that this is true :
nd that my own, (ill as I may deserve it)—
nows her state best, keeps best within the bounds
[er matron duties claim; that she's at home,
While yours are feasting at their neigbours' houses.
What say'st thou, Collatine,

On rioting at home?

Col. Had I two lives, I'd stake them on the trial Nor fear to live both out.

Sex. Let us away, then.

Come, come, my Collatinus,-droop not thus-

Be gay.

Col. I am not sad

Sex. But fearful for th' event.

Col. Not in the least.

Sex. A little.

SCENE II.-Rome.-An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter BRUTUS, L.

Bru. [Alone.] Oh, that some light would beam from

heav'n to teach me

When to burst forth, and how to gain my purpose!
For Rome I would resign all other bonds,

And tear each private tie from my fixed heart.
-Ha!-Some one comes! It is my son! He seems
Wrapt a Elysium, and elate with joy!

Enter TITUS, L.

[Retires

Tit. Tis done! 'tis done! auspicious are the fates

Tarquinia's word is pledged, and all is brightness!

Bru. [Coming down.] That exclamation was too lofty, boy :

Such raptures ill become the troubled times—

Of such, no more.

Tit. Oh! at an hour like this,

Who could repress the thrill of grateful joy!
Bru. [Eagerly.] What dost thou mean?
Tit. Tarquinia.

Bru. What of her?

Tit. Her vows are pledged,

And Heaven's propitious smile will make her mine. What! Thine? Heaven make Tar

Bru. Thine?

quinia thine?

Away! away! Heav'n spurns the race she springs from!
Tit. How!-Father, wert thou to thyself restored,
Thou would'st exult to see thy son thus blest.

Our vows are past. They cannot be recalled.
And soon the nuptial altar will behold her
My own forever.

Bru. No, Titus, not forever!

If thou art mine, thou canst not be Tarquinia's.
Renounce thy father-or renounce thy love.

Tit. Nay, loose me, father-this is frenzy all.
E'en hadst thou spoken the dictates of thy soul,
(For sure thou canst not know what thou requir'st,)
I must not, would not, could not, yield Tarquinia.
Nay-let me go—or my racked heart will break.

Bru. Leave me. Retire. Thine is no Roman heart. Ere long the moon will change-the moon-my god. dess

And then thou may'st behold a change in Brutus.

Tit. 'Tis as I thought; Folly resumes its reign.
Look on him, oh, ye gods!

Grant him once more the treasure now withheld,
And to his son restore a long lost father!

[Exit, R.

Bru. [Alone.] I was too sudden. I should have delayed, And watched a surer moment for my purpose. He must be frighted from this dream of love. What, shall the son of Junius wed a Tarquin! As yet I've been no father to my son

I could be none: but, through the cloud that wraps me

ve watched his mind with all a parent's fondness,
and hailed, with joy, the Junian glory there.

Could I once burst the chains which now enthral him.
My son would prove the pillar of his country—
Dear to her freedom as he is to me.

The time may come when heaven will heal our wrongsTe your hands, mighty powers, I yield myself

I will not doubt heaven's goodness or Rome's virtue— Then, hence despair! Still thou and I are twain !

[Exit, L. SCENE III.-The House of Collatinus, at Collatia.—An Apartment lighted up.

LUCRETIA discovered, surrounded by her Maids, all employed in embroidery, and other female occupations.— LAVINIA is on the R. of Lucretia.

Luc. How long is it, Lavinia, since my lord Hath changed his peaceful mansion for the camp And restless scenes of war?

Lav. Why, in my simple estimation, madam, 'Tis some ten days, or thereabout, for time

Runs as it should with me-in

Perhaps ten years.

yours, it may be

Luc. I do not understand thee.

Say'st thou, with me time runs not as it should?
Explain thy meaning.-What should make thee think so?
Lav. All that I mean is, that if I were married,
And that my husband were called forth to th' wars,
I should not stray through the grove next my house,
Invoke the pensive solitude, and woo

The dull and silent melancholy-brood
O'er my own thoughts alone, or keep myself
Within my house mewed up, a prisoner.
'Tis for philosophers

To love retirement; women were not made
To stand cooped up like statues in a niche,
Or feed on their own secret contemplations.

Luc. Go to; thou know'st not what thou say'st, Lavi-
nia.

I thank the gods, who taught me that the mind,
Possessed of conscious virtue, is more rich

Than all the sumless hoards which Plutus boasts;
And that the chiefest glory of a woman

Is in retirement-that her highest comfort
Results from home-born and domestic joys,-
Her noblest treasure, a deserving husband!
-Who, not a prisoner to the eye alone,
A fair complexion or melodious voice,

Shall read her deeper-nor shall time, which palls
The rage of passion, shake his ardent love,
Increasing by possession. This, (again I thank
The gracious gods)—this husband, too, is mine!

[Crosses, R. -Soft-I hear footsteps! Hour of rapture! Look! My life, my love, my Collatinus comes!

Enter COLLATINUS, CLAUDIUS, ARUNS, and SEXTUS L. Lucretia rushes into the arms of Collatinus

My lord, most welcome!

Col. Welcome these, my friends,

Lucretia !-our right royal master's sons;
Passing this way, I have prevailed with them.

To grace our humble mansion.

Luc. Welcome yourself!

And doubly welcome, that you bring such friends.
Haste, maidens, haste-make ready for our guests!

My heart is full of joy!

Aruns. Rather, fair lady,

[Exeunt Attendants, B.

You should be angry, that unseasonably,

And with abrupt intrusion, we've thus broke

Upon your privacy.

Luc. No, my good lord;

Those to whom love and my respect are due,

Can ne'er intrude upon me; had I known

This visit, you, perhaps, might have been treated
With better cheer-not a more kind reception.
This evening, little did I think my house
Would have possessed such lodgers.

Claud. Rather, lady,

Such birds of passage-we must hence to-night.

Luc. To-night? Doth not my lord say no to that? Col. I would, Lucretia; but it cannot be.