Virginia, A Tragedy Part 4

[_Kisses her._

Once more, sweetheart! Nay, wouldst thou draw away?

_Virg._ Not so. Mine ears deceived me, hearing sounds Of stealthy listeners.

_Icilius._ Virginia, Rest here upon this bed of roses. They Are "red with anguish for Adonis' death,"

That mortal love of Venus. Dear, recline, And let thy tresses, darker than the night, In the breeze fluttering, caress my cheek, Breathing thy love for me.

_Virg._ Icilius, 'Twas only yestereve I wandered here.

The sun was casting forth his fading beams In final efforts most supreme; my thoughts Were full of peace and thee. And in the light Shed by the homing sun--the purple, red, And gold--I dreamed fair dreams, imagined visions.

Methought I saw the coming years of bliss, Deepened with sorrow, lined with simple care; The sorrow of a mortal, and the care Of wife and mother. Then, at once, arose Longings that I might always worthy be, As was Eurydice of Orpheus.

Never to falter, howsoe'er I feared, Turn not, stay not, fail not; a woman in My services and steadfast faith, as well As my most pa.s.sionate love. My thoughts are grave; Perchance they do accord not with thy mood?

_Icilius._ Not so, thou spirit of sweet harmony, My life and soul, my one bright guiding star.

Thy lover is a rude and careless man, A Roman tribune, weighted with affairs, Stern to my fellows, tender but to thee.

Yet when I look on thy beloved form And perfect face, my sins are swept away, As is the unclean wrack, upon the sh.o.r.e, Swept by the ocean. Ay! and in its place Are left pure pearls and sh.e.l.ls and wonders such As only dwell where man can never go-- Thy thoughts, Virginia, pure as virgin snow.

_Virg._ Last night I lay awake amid the dark, Hearing the music of the fount without My window; sharply, trebly sweet it broke The heavy, voiceless gloom of slumbering Nature and sleeping men. Awake, I dreamed Of all the bliss the gentle G.o.ds have placed Within my hold. Then, like a swelling sea, High in my bosom rose the newborn love.

I thought of how it grew, so shy, so slow, At first like faltering breeze that lightly stirs And lifts the tiny feather o'er the heart Of nesting bird, then gaming courage, grows Into a gentle wind until the soul Within leaps up, and mighty, strong, and free, Soars on celestial wings above the raving sea.

[_A silence falls, during which a light begins to break in the eastern sky._

_Icilius._ We have outsighed the day; the rising moon Her benediction smiles upon this spot, Where breathes and hopes and loves Virginia.

_Virg._ She signals faintly, from the brightening east, To thee, my hero and my love.

_Icilius._ One kiss, One kiss in honor of fair Cynthia.

May blessings come to thee with every ray From yonder orb which rises o'er the hills Of Rome and lights a glory in thy hair.

Elusive soul! this moment dost thou seem A chaste, pale spirit of the lonely moon, A white Diana of nocturnal glades, Yet in the magic of the ardent sun I've seen thee flame into an Aphrodite, A glowing type of pa.s.sion and desire.

My love, my full and perfected ideal, My Helen and my delicate aenone.

My nymph and my incomparable queen In one. Come closer to my arms, beloved!

I would not lose in any sense or thought A moment spent with thee, Virginia.

_Virg._ (_in his arms_). Closer, ay, closer, as the days go by, Deeper and deeper, stronger and more strong, Each in the other till we are not two, A man and maid, but one, but one. Oh! say How close I am to thee, Icilius?

_Icilius._ As close as vein to leaf, or leaf to stem; As close as is the rose-flush in the heart Of ocean's sh.e.l.l unto the sh.e.l.l itself; Close as the star is to its atmosphere; Wedded as day and night, no break, no void Between, but only faintest change and lights, Born of a higher world, a purer sphere, Heaven-conceived, begotten of the sky.

[_The light visibly brightens, s.h.i.+ning down upon the two. After a silence they stir and slowly walk apart, watching the sky.

Icilius presently rejoins Virginia._

Love, thou art weary. Come within and sleep.

_Virg._ Nay, I could never weary in thy sight.

Have I not called thy kisses and embrace My wine, my flame, my moonlight and my stars?

I am not weary. But I'll come within-- The morrow brings a fresh Elysium.

_Icilius._ Oh! but the night is fair; behold each rose, How tenderly preserves and cups its dew, Barely awakened, lifting up its head And smiling at the moon. One kiss before We go within. And now, farewell, thou rose; Farewell, thou garden of nocturnal dreams And noon-day musings. Come, Virginia, Let us within.

SCENE IV--HOME OF CORNELIA.

_Apartment s.p.a.cious and luxurious, with hangings of various kinds. Cornelia, who is reclining in an arm chair, occupies the center of the room; a female stands behind her in the act of arranging her hair. On the left is a boy in rich patrician dress, seated beside an oblong bath, engaged in sailing a tiny fleet of vessels on the surface of the water. On the right are a number of attendants, conversing in undertones._

_Cor._ Ah, G.o.ds! I am most sad and most aweary Of this routine of state, unrestful splendor.

My lovers love not me but my possessions, My friends are envious of my delights.

Wretched aristocrats! Unhappy we Who call ourselves patricians, and who swear Our race is blessed of the most blessed G.o.ds!

Say rather cursed, and with a heavy curse!

How can I give my heart to those who are By _n.o.ble_ blood worthy and eligible, After the Roman laws, to sue for it?

Eros with them is but an empty name; Pa.s.sion and l.u.s.t and horrible ambition Form the emotions of these "blessed" ones.

And I, unhappy, love with pure desire Sicinius, a soldier and a pleb!

Yet hath the Ten forbidden intermarriage, Just when those bars of difference were about To fall away and Heaven ope for me. [_To the attendant._ Sufficient, Julia.

_Julia._ Nay, a few light touches And thou wilt s.h.i.+ne more fair, my lovely mistress, Than heavenly Venus in her myrtle bower.

_Cor._ (_smilingly_). But I am dark as night; she as the day, Thou foolish maid.

_Julia._ Believe me, thou in thy Rich, languid charm would cast enchantment o'er Adonis, as would keep him from the chase Where Venus pled in vain.

_Cor._ Tut, flatterer!

_Julia_ (_slyly_). Methinks I'd make a model lover then If I do flatter. Is't not so, sweet lady?

_Cor._ (_bitterly_). Lovers are mockeries in this blackened age.

A maid may wed the low-souled fool so long As he's high-born! The man of n.o.ble mind Is numbered, if a common, 'mongst the dead.

_Julia_ (_idly_). Methinks Sicinius comes here anon?

_Cor._ (_in displeasure_). What! Insolent! Who bade thee speak, I pray?

_Julia_ (_softly_). Lady, mine eyes are clear and quick to see, And thy heart's sentinels are slumbering.

I mean no insolence, by all the G.o.ds!

My motive only love and sympathy.

I, too, am a plebeian, and rejoice To see thy gracious, n.o.ble condescension.

Yet in my joy I well could weep with pain, Seeing the darkness of thy doubtful future.

_Cor._ Darkness! It is a void as empty as My heart this day is full. Begone, I pray, Each one of you; nay, thou, my Julia, stay And bid the bards perform a soothing lay.

[_Exeunt maids. Sounds of a harp without in soft accompaniment._

_Cor._ Tiberius, come hither unto me.

[_The boy approaches her._

Now kiss me, child, and talk a s.p.a.ce with me.

_Tib._ What melancholy broods upon thy brow, Curves thy dear lips, and glooms within thine eyes?

_Cor._ Brother, thou art too young to comprehend.