DRAMATIS PERSON E.

MEN.

ippius,, chief of the Decemvirs, L.Virginius, a plebeian centurion, Lucius Icilius, a young plebeian, late tribune of the people,

Claudius, a patrician, a dependanton Appius,
Rufus, a plebeian, a creature of Claudius,
Caius, freedman to L. Virginius,

Drury-Laye.

Mr. Moffop.

Mr. Garrick.

Mr. Rofs.
Mr. Davies.
Mr. Mozeen,
Mr. Clough.

VIRGINIA.

ACT I.

SCENE, an Apartment in Claudius's Houfe in Rome,
Enter Claudius and Rufus.
CLAUDIUS.

UFUS, didst mark Virginius, with what fcorn
He ey'd us, as we pafs'd his gates but now?

Ruf. Old age, and frantic dreams of Rome and glory, Have turn'd his vifionary brain.

Claud. Saw'st thou

With what impetuous hafte and eager looks
He iffued forth?

Ruf. What is the cause?

Claud. A fummons

Is just arriv'd, that calls him to the camp;
A battle is expected ev'ry hour.

'Tis lucky, and will favour the defign

Of our Decemvir on his beauteous daughter.
Ruf. This rafh pursuit of a contracted maid,
I fear, will have fome fatal end. Should Appius
Employ his pow'r-I tremble at the thought!
Virginius is ador'd throughout the tribes ;
His filver hairs, his honour, his rough eloquence,
Would fire all Rome. We must find out fome way
To turn him from so desperate a course.

Claud. Impoffible and vain !-His headlong paffions Mock all controul. Of that no more. I tell thee, No choice is left, but to contrive the means

To footh her to his arms.

Ruf. To footh her, Claudius !

Thou know'st she is contracted; nay, with fondness

She

She loves the people's darling, young Icilius;
He who fo bravely serv'd them as their Tribune.
Will the be won, by arts of foft perfuafion,
To quit his graceful form, his youth amd ardor,
For the ftern afpect, and declining years
Of Appius?

Claud. Hard it feems, yet not impoffible;
I hav't in charge to make th' attempt at least
Without delay.

Ruf. What, while the hot Centurion Remains in Rome?

Claud. He is fet forth already

From his own gates, and now, within few minutes,
Will turn his back on Rome. His pride and honour
Will fpur him to the camp with fiery speed:
There's danger there, and glory to be won.
Th' attempt is fafe, nor must we lose a moment:
When once the battle's o'er, he will return,
Perhaps with conqueft flush'd, and doubly arm'd
With pow'r t' oppose us.

Ruf. It can ne'er fucceed.

Claud. Could we prevail but on my fifter MarciaShe is Virginia's trufted friendShe might Work glorious mifchief!

Ruf. Marcia! gen'rous Marcia!

Will he combine in fuch dark practices?
The jarring elements as foon would mix
Their contraries!

Claud. What if herfelf the lov'd
Icilius ?

Ruf. Heavens!

Claud. If both my eyes and ears

Deceive me not, fhe's deeply wounded, Rufus.
Ruf. I'm all amaz'd! If this be fo-

Claud. Ay, Rufus,

If this be fo, then where are truth and honour?

Let trusty nature and warm paffion work

In woman's breast

I ask no more→→→→→→

'Tis true,

It founds well, this long list of titled virtues;

But it weighs little.

Ruf. Have you try'd her yet?

It promifes

Claud.

Claud. Some diftant hints I've dropp'd;
I've talk'd of Appius' marriage with Virginia,
And blam'd the rigid edict that forbids
Patrician and plebeian blood to mix.

My purpose was to found her; for thou know't
Her birth is of the nobleft; but Icilius
Is of plebeian race.

Ruf. How heard the this?

Claud. With filent, deep attention; but her eyes, And her emotion, told me all within

Methinks I hear her voice.

Go, Rufus; hafte

To Appius; tell him, that I go to pay

Obedience to his will; and in the Forum

Will let him know th' event, and wait his pleasure.

Enter Marcia.

Mar. I came not on defign to interrupt

Your earneft conference.

Claud. Marcia, to thee

[Exit Rufus

My foul knows no referve; but longs to fhare
Her troubles, hopes, and fears; each rifing thought,
Each weakness, and each want, with faithful Marcia.
Mar. Thou feem'st disturb'd. That brow, with care
Denotes a storm within.
[o'erclouded,

Claud. Too truly guess'd.

Thy aid I want, thy counfel. Let me tell thee

The weight that my foul labours with.

Mar. My brother,

Thy griefs are all my own; and if the world

Contain a remedy, to purchase it,

I'll give my means, my life, my all, as freely
As I give forth this air I draw.

Claud. Oh, Marcia !

Virginiafhe, fhe is the cause!

Mar. Virginia!

My dear and generous friend!-What means my brother? This instant I expect her

Claud. [Interrupting her.] What, Virginia!

Expect her here!-Oh, fay!

Mar. Shall I conceal

From Claudius aught, I were to wrong his love

4

Know

Know then, this day Icilius fecretly
Intends to enter Rome.

[Afide

2

Thro' my means,

Claud. Heav'ns! on what caufe?
Ha!-fure he has not heard-It cannot be-
Mar. Th' impatience of a lover.
He begs to meet the object of his wishes ;
To steal a look, to breathe a figh, no more.
Claud. But knows Virginia his intent ?
Mar. She does not;

I only fent t' intreat her to pafs hither.

Claud. Marcia, I do conjure thee, by the gods,
By all thou hold'st most dear, attend and hear me !
Prevent their meeting, break this fatal match,
Or Appius, ftung to frenzy, will commit
Some act of defperation- -Oh, 'twill fave

Thy friends, thy brother, Appius, nay Virginia
And Rome itself, perhaps, from instant ruin!

[Think,

Mar. Ah, Claudius! whither wouldst thou lead me? Think, what I owe to friendship and to honour.

Claud. Honour commands all private ties should yield To public good. Wouldst thou behold our streets Strown with the carcafes of flaughter'd citizens, And Tyber's wave run purple with their blood? Ha, civil difcord, Marcia !

Mar. Gods, cut short

My thread of life, ere that dread hour arrives!
Claud. 'Tis ev'n at hand, and, like a horrid comet,
Hangs o'er our fated heads, portending plagues,
And gen

'ral defolation to mankind!

Mar. Why doft thou tempt me with these shapes of To my perdition? I dare be unhappy,

Unhappy, but not bafe. Oh, my Virginia!

Companion of my youth! the tender band

Of amity, that link'd our infaucy,

[terror,

Grew with our growth, and ripen'd with our years,
Shall I now break the facred knot with treafon?
Icilius too-a friend!-What have I faid?

A friend!-Ah, Marcia! would he were no more!
But, hufh, my fighs! [Afide.] How fhall I look on him,
When he shall know, that Marcia was the ferpent
That ftung his heart?

Claud.