The Sack of Rome/Act I

by Mercy Otis Warren

ACT I

Scene I

A Camp near Rome

(Ætius and Gaudentius)

Ætius

A solemn stillness reigns throughout the camp;

The hostile sound of martial musick's hush'd;

A truce agreed, the proud Attila gives,

Perhaps, a short liv'd peace to bleeding Rome:

But nations pouring from their frozen dens,

Rough, naked boors, from every northern wild,

Untutor'd, or by nature, or by art,

With scarce a trait that speaks the species man,

Except the semblance of the human form,

Must be the chosen scourge, by heaven design'd,

To chasten Rome for that tyrannick sway

Usurp'd and stretch'd o'er all her wide domain,

And proudly held by her remorseless sword;

Her insolence, her stubbornness of soul,

That trod down nations, trampled on the necks

Of mighty kings, and taught her weaker foes.

To fear alike her senators and gods.

Gaudentius

Though from each quarter of the peopled globe

Some hostile foe, or new invader rise,

Imperial Rome must ever awe the world.

Ætius

With hideous shouts the northern hords retir'd

O'er the bleak mounts to Sogdiana's wilds;

But fierce Attila look'd indignant back

On weaken'd Rome, by luxury undone;

Flush'd with success, by vulgar kings ador'd,

Who watch his nod and tremble at his frown,

The Scythian savage left the Latian shore,

Like some wild beast just gorg'd with human blood,

Full glutted with his prey, to breathe awhile

In his ferocious den---to whet his taste

For new refreshing hecatombs of blood.

Gaudentius

Extreme distress unites the firm and brave;

True virtue might each obstacle surmount;

Rome, like a phenix, from her smoking towns,

Dissolving columns, cities wrapt in flames,

Might vet emerge and more illustrious shine,

If party rage and luxury should cease,

And peace give time to make a just reform

Through each corrupted channel of the law;

Or if simplicity again returns,

And government more energy assumes,

Her ancient codes restor'd on equal terms,

She yet might reign from Danube to the Po.

Ætius

There's little hope from such a noble source;

So chang'd her manners, so debas'd the mind

By faction, pride, intemperance and lust.

Lost in inglorious ease, all valour melts

Beneath incrusted roofs, emboss'd with gold,

Egyptian pearls and emeralds of the East.

The sword alone is all that Rome can boast

That bears affinity to former fame;

Yet see the sons of Romulus dismay'd,

The trembling youth of Italy alarm'd

Whene'er the trumpet summons to the field.

Before the vernal equinox returns

To cheer the Hetrurian plains, war wakes anew;

I saw the tyger gnash his hungry teeth

When fair Honoria's ample dower was nam'd,

On which the savage stipulated peace;

This brings him back to claim his royal bride.

Gaudentius

But while transported with the youthful charms

Of beauteous Elda---taken to his bed;

Amidst barbarick pomp---he may forget

Both enmity and gold and his Honoria,

Till Rome's prepar'd to meet him in the field.

(Exeunt)

Scene II

(Ætius, Leo and Gaudentius)

Leo

I come my lord with tidings on my tongue.

Ætius

Say, what new foe has Rome? I am prepar'd.

Leo

I come to hail the valiant friend of Rome,

Whose arm and prowess are her best support;

With the glad news of fierce Attila's death.

Ætius

How did the monster fall?

Leo

Hot from the riot of a barbarous feast;

Sent swiftly down to Pluto's gloomy shade,

By lewd debauch and great excess of joy

That his rough arm had humbled haughty Rome.

Ætius

Humbled indeed! the world's proud mistress

Trembles at th' approach of Suevick valour;

The harden'd lance dip'd in the Wolga's stream;

Hurl'd in the face of her degenerate sons;

They start appall'd e'en at a distant foe;

The next invader seals Rome's heavy doom.

Leo

Though weaken'd Rome by furious factions torn,

Imbitter'd by decline, sinks deep in vice---

Yet, was the empire held in bolder hands

The fierce barbarick rage might still be check'd:

Within Liguria all would be secure,

And sav'd from pillage all the Latian states;

Then let the world beyond the towering Alps

Be still possess'd by Goth, or Vandal tribes,

Ravag'd by wolves, or yet more savage Huns.

Ætius

Where is the emperor? Does he not awake

From his soft slumbering lethargy of soul?

Leo

Supinely sunk in dreams of wanton bliss,

Ignoble pleasures of a splendid court,

Or peace, or war, or truce, the same to him.

Ætius

Yet, when he heard of the barbarian's death,

Did he not rouse, nor dread the ill omen'd birds

That late have brooded o'er the capitol,

And augur'd evils round the city walls,

That the twelve centuries were near complete,

Since Romulus the founder of the state

Had prophesied the measure of her guilt

Would tempt the destinies in wrath to rise

And shake the empire from its ancient base?

Leo

The fair Ardelia fills the monarch's heart;

He secret sighs for Maximus's wife.

Ætius

Ardelia!---the good---the chaste Ardelia---

The first and fairest matron left in Rome!

Leo

To triumph over her superiour charms,

He cog'd the dye at Maximus's cost:

Long practis'd in the tercerarian art,

Petronius is play'd a double game;

The die was thrown while fortune turn'd the wheel

That makes him wretched as he has been bless'd.

Ætius

'Mongst the long list of celebrated names,

Matrons of ancient or of modern fame,

None boasts a fairer claim to virtue's palm

Than the discreet, the excellent Ardelia;

Nor can she forfeit by a shameful fall

That modesty, and grace, and decent pride,

That dignifies, nor less adorns, the sex.

Leo

Yet heavenly virtue, or angelick worth,

May fall the victim of a wanton wish,

When power lends its iron hand to guilt.

Ætius

Petronius ador'd Ardelia's charms.

Leo

As well he ought---though innocent as fair,

Pity's too weak her anguish to express---

Language too poor to speak one half her griefs:

But Maximus returns---Ah, hapless man!

I would not see him till he knows his fate,

And time has calm'd the tumults of his soul.

(Exeunt)

Scene III

(Ætius and Maximus)

Ætius

Hah ! Maximus---

Art thou the last to hail thy friend's success?

Or has long absence blotted friendship out?

Maximus

Forgive me, Ætius---

I esteem thy virtues---nor envy thee

The laurels, thou hast won: Absence, nor time,

Can e'er obliterate that love, that friendship,

Merit makes thy own, and worth commands:

Give me thy hand---thou know'st my heart is thine,

Nor can I more until we meet again.

Ætius

What means this haste? Why that disturbed brow?

Maximus

Return'd this moment from the Aquilean camp

Where I've been sent with such impetuous speed,

So much unlike the slowness of the emperor,

I scarce believe that he could mean me fair.

Ætius

What cause is there for doubt? or why suspect?

Maximus

I think some latent mischief lies conceal'd

Beneath the vizard of a fair pretence;

My heart ill brook'd the errand of the day,

Yet I obey'd---though a strange horror seiz'd

My gloomy mind---and shook my frame

As if the moment murder'd all my joys.

Ætius

But what excites distrust?

Maximus

Not like a child am I about to weave

In piteous accents a sad tale of woe:

But if I'm bubbled by a mean device.

No lingering vengeance shall repair my wrongs.

Ætius

What mean these fears? this agony of doubt?

Maximus

Thou art a gen'rous and a valiant friend:

I'll not conceal the anguish of my soul,

Nor yet the secret worm that gnaws my heart.

Myself forgot in an ignoble vice,

A vice below the dignity of man,

Without temptation but in avarice,

A blacker passion still---fate threw the die,

Or by superiour skill the emperor won

My beauteous grottos---my paternal groves---

My pleasant villas---and, meandering streams---

The sweet cascades that gurgled o'er the dales---

The noble busts that mark'd th' Anician name---

My poplar walks---and my Ardelia's bower---

(Those soft retreats of innocence and love)

And thus for once made Maximus a slave.

But ah! he gave a treacherous release;

He only ask'd the signet from my hand

To seal a promise that I'd reach the camp

Where Accimer commands before the eve:

But 'twas a poor, a frivolous pretence;

Yet did I not suspect a base design,

Till I receiv'd, without a signature,

In characters familiar to my eye,

A sentence like a thunderbolt from Jove.

I kiss'd the hand---in raptures broke the seal---

"Read---tremble---and despair---adieu, Petronius!"

Was all the page---the solemn page, contain'd;

And now I haste to find my lov'd Ardelia;

If she's not wrong'd, Petronius Maximus

May still be bless'd.

Ætius

Though Valentinian doats on beauty's charms,

Ardelia must be safe: True virtue checks

A bold licentious wish, and guards the fair;

He durst not drag an angel to his bed.

Maximus

As truth and virtue dignifi'd my bliss,

The gods alone who judge of spotless worth,

Must clear her fame, and vindicate my own;

Or let their vengeance pour in dreadful peals

Their heated bolts---till chosen curses fall,

In blasts distinguish'd, on the emperor's head.

(Exeunt)

Scene IV

(Ætius, Gaudentius and Heraclius)

Ætius

Heraclius !---Say, what has brought thee hither?

Heraclius

The emperor's command---he, on the tide

Of pleasure and success, congratulates,

Both on the peace, and on Attila's death,

The brave Gaudentius, and his noble sire;

He greets with thanks, his hardy, veteran friends,

For valour, faith, and every great exploit

Their arms atchiev'd in the rough field of Mars.

When Ætius finds it safe to leave the camp,

It is his will ye both repair to Rome,

To rest awhile from toilsome scenes of war,

And taste the pleasures of the imperial court.

Ætius

We shall obey---and ere tomorrow's dawn,

I reach the city and salute my prince.

But whence that sigh, my son? Art thou afraid

(to Gaudentius)

To venture on the threshold of a court,

Lest it melt down thy valour or thy fame?

Or does soft hope present th' hymenial torch,

Rekindle in thy breast a lover's flame.

And bring the fair Eudocia to thine eye?

Thy valour claims her from the emperor's hand

Nor will he longer now protract his vow.

Gaudentius

Nor shall he---Eudocia is my wife---

A soldier's honour rests upon his sword,

And mine shall claim its right.

Heraclius

He gives Eudocia to thy longing arms,

And bids thee haste to solemnize thy love,

In festal joys and holy nuptial rites.

Gaudentius

Thou art the harbinger of bliss indeed;

Command my gratitude, it shall be thine:

I'll hasten on, and meet thee in the forum;

If yet thou hast one wish ungratified,

Command my aid---it shall ensure success.

Complete thy fortune, and fill up thy hopes.

Heraclius

The princess waits impatiently to hear

The happy moment of her lord's return.

(Exit Heraclius)

Ætius

There's not a prince in Valentinian's court

Has serv'd with more fidelity and zeal;

Nor does he slight the services of Ætius,

But as a prince he bounteously rewards.

My son! the bravest, most deserving youth

That e'er paternal love clasp'd to his breast,

He crowns thy valour with the choicest gift

A lover ever wish'd, or hero claim'd.

Yet while my heart anticipates thy bliss,

Thou must remember that thou liv'st for Rome:

Let not ambition, avarice, or love,

Contaminate thy patriotick worth:

And as my sword has sav'd the commonwealth,

Drove back her foes, and given peace to Rome,

Let thine example teach her to be free.

Gaudentius

Inspir'd by thee, by glory, and by fame,

No deed of mine shall ever stain thy name.

(Exeunt)