PROLOGUE WRITTEN BY GEORGE CROLY, SPOKEN BY MR. H. KEMBLE. TIME rushes o'er us; thick as evening clouds, The far, forgotten stars of humankind? Our pledge is kept. Here yet no chargers wheel, From pit to gallery - the low sublime! In Shakspeare's halls, shall dogs and bears engage? Hover high spirits - shapes of burning thought- Here, at your voice, Rowe, Otway, Southern come Sits SHAKSPEARE crowned. He lifts the golden wand, And all obey; the visions of the past Rise as they lived — soft, splendid, regal, vast. When sank her liberty, that name of power Unrivalled England! to such memories thou This hour dost owe the laurel on thy brow; Those fixed, when earth was like a grave, thy tread Prophet and warrior! ''twixt the quick and deadThose bade the war for man- those won the name That crowns thee-famed above all Roman fame. Now, to our scene - we feel no idle fear, Sure of the hearts, the British justice here; If we deserve it, sure of your applause Then, hear for Rome, for England, for "our cause." DRAMATIS PERSONA BRUTUS. TITUS. SEXTUS TARQUIN. ARUNS. CLAUDIUS. COLLATINUS. VALERIUS. LUCRETIUS. HORATIUS. CELIUS. FLAVIUS CORUNNA. CENTURION. FIRST PLEBEIAN. SECOND PLEBEIAN. THIRD PLEBEIAN. FIFTH PLEBEIAN. TULLIA. TARQUINIA. LUCRETIA. LAVINIA. PRIESTESS. BRUTUS V ACT I SCENE I.-A STREET IN ROME Enter VALERIUS and LUCRETIUS. AL. Words are too feeble to express the horror With which my soul revolts against this Tarquin; By poison he obtained his brother's wife, Then, by a baser murder, grasped the crown! These eyes beheld that agèd monarch thrown Down from the senate-house his feeble limbs Bruised by the pavement his time-honoured locks, With difficulty raised, and tottering homeward, Val. High in her regal chariot, Tullia came — The corpse lay in the street. The charioteer Turned back the reins in horror. "On, slave, on! Luc. And Heaven's avenging lightnings were withheld ! Deign to diffuse thy daring through the land, Rome from her trance with giant spirit would start, Val. Junius, didst say? Oh! tyranny long since Luc. Ay, the same Lucius, who now dwells with Tarquin, The jest, the fool, the laughing-stock o' th' court, Whom the young princes always carry with 'em Val. Hold! I hear steps. Great things may yet be done, If we are men, and faithful to our country. SCENE II.-THE CAMP BEFORE ARDEA Enter CLAUDIUS and ARUNS, laughing. [Exeunt. Aruns. There is no doctor for the spleen like Lucius. When, lately, through the glorious scenes of Greece, Where, full of business, his wise worship comes. Enter LUCIUS JUNIUS. Claud. Whither so fast, good Junius, tell us whither? Luc. To Rome, to Rome - the queen demands my presence. The state needs aid, and I am called to court. Am I a fool? If so, you can not say I'm the first fool graced by a monarch's favour. [They laugh. Aruns. Why, Junius, travel has improved thy wit: Thou speakest shrewdly. Luc. Do I so, my lord? I'm always glad when you and I agree; You have just such a wit as I should choose. Would I could purchase such! though it might split My head, as confined air does-water bubbles! Claud. How say you? Purchase? Prithee, what would'st give? Luc. What would I give?— ten acres of my land. Aruns. Thy land! Where lies it? Luc. Ask the king, my cousin : He knows full well. I thank him, he's my steward, And takes the trouble off my hands. Claud. Who told thee so? Luc. The king himself. Now twenty years are past, Or more, since he sent for me from my farm. "Kinsman," said he, with a kind, gracious smile, "For the black crime of treason which was charged Against thy father and thy elder brother, Their lives have paid: for thee, as I love mercy, Live and be happy: simple is thy mind " Aruns. True, kinsman, true-i' faith, 't is wondrous simple. Luc. "And that simplicity will be a pledge That thou wilt never plot against thy sovereign." Claud. Indeed, for that I'll be your bondsman, Junius. As for thy land, to ease thee of all care I'll take it for thy use; all that I ask Aruns. And art thou not Grateful for goodness so unmerited? Luc. Am I not? Never, by the holy gods, I brought a message to you from the king. stay Aruns. Thank the gods, then, for thy good memory, fool! Luc. The king, your father, sends for you to council, Where he debates how best to conquer Ardea. Shall I before, and tell him ye are coming? Claud. Ay, or behind, or with us, or stay here And throw this vizor of thy madness from thee, I've had to strike the blow- and my own life I had not valued as a rush. But still There's something nobler to be done! My soul, To see Revenge Spring like a lion from the den and tear These hunters of mankind! Grant but the time, Grant but the moment, gods! If I am wanting, May I drag out this idiot-feigned life To late old age, and may posterity Ne'er hear of Junius but as Tarquin's fool! laughing. -the gibes [Exit. |