Scene III The Senate-house
Enter Tarquin, Tullia, and Collatine, Scevola, Horatius, Lucretius, Valerius, Nobles.
Tarquin.
Attend us with your persons, but your ears
Be deaf unto our counsels.
[The Lords fall off on either side and attend.
Tullia.
Farther yet.
Tarquin.
Now, Tullia, what must be concluded next?
Tullia.
The kingdom you have got by policy
You must maintain by pride.
Tarquin.
Good.
Tullia.
Those that were late of the king’s faction
Cut off, for fear they prove rebellious.
Tarquin.
Better.
Tullia.
Since you gain nothing by the popular love,
Maintain by fear your princedom.
Tarquin.
Excellent;
Thou art our oracle, and, save from thee,
We will admit no counsel. We obtained
Our state by cunning; it must be kept by strength;
And such as cannot love we’ll teach to fear:
To encourage which, upon our better judgment,
And to strike greater terror to the world,
I have forbid thy father’s funeral.
Tullia.
No matter.
Tarquin.
All capital causes are by us discussed,
Traversed,26 and executed without counsel:
We challenge too, by our prerogative,
The goods of such as strive against our state;
The freest citizens, without attaint,27
Arraign, or judgment, we to exile doom;
The poorer are our drudges, rich our prey,
And such as dare not strive our rule obey.
Tullia.
Kings are as gods, and divine sceptres bear;
The gods command, for mortal tribute, fear;
But, royal lord, we that despise their love,
Must seek some means how to maintain this awe.
Tarquin.
By foreign leagues, and by our strength abroad.
Shall we, that are degreed above our people,
Whom Heaven hath made our vassals, reign with them?
No; kings, above the rest tribunaled high,
Should with no meaner than with kings ally:
For this we to Mamilius Tusculan,
The Latin king, ha’ given in marriage
Our royal daughter; now his people’s ours:
The neighbour princes are subdued by arms;
And whom we could not conquer by constraint,
Them we have sought to win by courtesy.
Kings that are proud, yet would secure their own,
By love abroad shall purchase fear at home.
Tullia.
We are secure, and yet our greatest strength
Is in our children: how dare treason look
Us in the face, having issue? Barren princes
Breed danger in their singularity;
Having none to succeed, their claim dies in them.
But when, in topping28 one, three Tarquins more,
Like hydras’ heads, grow to revenge his death,
It terrifies black treason.
Tarquin.
Tullia’s wise
And apprehensive! Were our princely sons
Sextus and Aruns back returnèd safe,
With an applausive answer of the gods
From the oracle, our state were able then,
Being gods ourselves, to scorn the hate of men.
Enter Sextus, Aruns, and Brutus.
Sextus.
Where’s Tullia?
Aruns.
Where’s our mother?
Horatius.
Yonder, princes,
At council with the king.
Tullia.
Our sons returned!
Sextus.
Royal mother!
Aruns.
Renowned queen!
Sextus.
I love her best,
Therefore will Sextus do his duty first.
Aruns.
Being eldest in my birth, I’ll not be youngest
In zeal to Tullia.
Brutus.
To’t, lads!
Aruns.
Mother, a kiss.
Sextus.
Though last in birth, let me be first in love.
A kiss, fair mother.
Aruns.
Shall I lose my right?
Sextus.
Aruns shall down, were Aruns twice my brother,
If he presume ’fore me to kiss my mother.
Aruns.
Ay, Sextus, think this kiss to be a crown, thus would we tug for’t.
Sextus.
Aruns, thou must down.
Tarquin.
Restrain them, lords.
Brutus.
Nay, to’t, boys! Oh, ’tis brave!
They tug for shadows, I the substance have.
Aruns.
Through armèd gates, and thousand swords I’ll break
To show my duty: let my valour speak.
[Breaks from the Nobles and kisses her.
Sextus.
O Heavens! you have dissolved me.
Aruns.
Here I stand,
What I ha’ done to answer with this hand.
Sextus.
O all ye Delphian gods, look down and see
How for these wrongs I will revenged be!
Tarquin.
Curb in the proud boys’ fury; let us know
From whence this discord riseth.
Tullia.
From our love.
How happy are we in our issue now,
Whenas our sons even with their bloods contend
To exceed in duty! We accept your zeal:
This your superlative degree of kindness
So much prevails with us, that to the king
We engage our own dear love ’twixt his incensement
And your presumption; you are pardoned both.
And, Sextus, though you failed in your first proffer,
We do not yet esteem you least in love:
Ascend and touch our lips.
Sextus.
Thank you, no.
Tullia.
Then to thy knee we will descend thus low.
Sextus.
Nay, now it shall not need. How great’s my heart!
Aruns.
In Tarquin’s crown thou now hast lost thy part.
Sextus.
No kissing now. Tarquin, great queen, adieu!
Aruns, on earth we ha’ no foe but you.
Tarquin.
What means this their unnatural enmity?
Tullia.
Hate, born from love.
Tarquin.
Resolve us then, how did the gods accept
Our sacrifice? how are they pleased with us?
How long will they applaud our sovereignty?
Brutus.
Shall I tell the king?
Tarquin.
Do, cousin, with the process of your journey.
Brutus.
I will. We went from hither when we went from hence, arrived thither when we landed there, made an end of our prayers when we had done our orisons, when thus quoth Phœbus: “Tarquin shall be happy whilst he is blest, govern while he reigns, wake when he sleeps not, sleep when he wakes not, quaff when he drinks, feed when he eats, gape when his mouth opens, live till he die, and die when he can live no longer.” So Phœbus commends him to you.
Tarquin.
Mad Brutus still. Son Aruns, what say you?
Aruns.
That the great gods, to whom the potent king
Of this large empire sacrificed by us,
Applaud your reign, commend your sovereignty:
And by a general synod grant to Tarquin
Long days, fair hopes, majestic government.
Brutus.
Adding withal, that to depose the late king, which in others had been arch-treason, in Tarquin was honour; what in Brutus had been usurpation, in Tarquin was lawful succession; and for Tullia, though it be parricide for a child to kill her father, in Tullia it was charity by death to rid him of all his calamities. Phœbus himself said she was a good child—and shall not I say as he says?—to tread upon her father’s skull,
Sparkle his brains upon her chariot-wheel,
And wear the sacred tincture of his blood
Upon her servile shoe. But more than this,
After his death deny him the due claim
Of all mortality, a funeral,
An earthen sepulchre—this, this, quoth the oracle,
Save Tullia none would do.
Tullia.
Brutus, no more,
Lest with the eyes of wrath and fury incensed
We look into thy humour: were not madness
And folly to thy words a privilege,
Even in thy last reproof of our proceedings
Thou hadst pronounced thy death.
Brutus.
If Tullia will send Brutus abroad for news, and after at his return not endure the telling of it, let Tullia either get closer ears, or get for Brutus a stricter tongue.
Tullia.
How, sir!
Brutus.
God be wi’ ye. [Exit.
Tarquin.
Alas, ’tis madness—pardon him—not spleen;
Nor is it hate, but frenzy. We are pleased
To hear the gods propitious to our prayers.
But whither’s Sextus gone? resolve us, Cocles;
We saw thee in his parting follow him.
Horatius.
I heard him say, he would straight take his horse
And to the warlike Sabines, enemies
To Rome and you.
Tarquin.
Save them we have no opposites.
Dares the proud boy confederate with our foes?
Attend us, lords; we must new battle wage,
And with bright arms confront the proud boy’s rage.
[Exeunt all but Lucretius, Collatine, Horatius, Valerius, and Scevola.
Horatius.
Had I as many souls as drops of blood
In these branched veins, as many lives as stars
Stuck in yond azure roof, and were to die
More deaths than I have wasted weary minutes
To grow to this, I’d hazard all and more
To purchase freedom to this bondaged Rome.
I’m vexed to see this virgin conqueress
Wear shackles in my sight.
Lucretius.
Oh, would my tears
Would rid great Rome of these prodigious fears!
Re-enter Brutus.
Brutus.
What, weeping-ripe, Lucretius! possible? Now lords, lads, friends, fellows, young madcaps, gallants, and old courtly ruffians, all subjects under one tyranny, and therefore should be partners of one and the same unanimity, shall we go single ourselves by two and two, and go talk treason? then ’tis but his yea, and my nay, if we be called to question. Or shall’s go use some violent bustling to break through this thorny servitude? or shall we every man go sit like a man in desperation, and with Lucretius weep at Rome’s misery. Now am I for all things, anything, or nothing. I can laugh with Scevola, weep with this good old man, sing “Oh hone hone” with Valerius, fret with Horatius Cocles, be mad like myself, or neutrize with Collatine. Say, what shall’s do?
Horatius.
Fret.
Valerius.
Sing.
Lucretius.
Weep.
Scevola.
Laugh.
Brutus.
Rather let’s all be mad,
That Tarquin he still reigneth, Rome’s still sad.
Collatine.
You are madmen all that yield so much to passion;
You lay yourselves too open to your enemies,
That would be glad to pry into your deeds,
And catch advantage to ensnare our lives;
The king’s fear, like a shadow, dogs you still,
Nor can you walk without it. I commend
Valerius most, and noble Scevola,
That what they cannot mend, seem not to mind.
By my consent let’s all wear out our hours
In harmless sports: hawk, hunt, game, sing, drink, dance,
So shall we seem offenceless and live safe
In danger’s bloody jaws: where29 being humorous,
Cloudy, and curiously inquisitive
Into the king’s proceedings, there armed fear
May search into us, call our deeds to question,
And so prevent all future expectation
Of wished amendment. Let us stay the time,
Till Heaven have made them ripe for just revenge,
When opportunity is offered us,
And then strike home; till then do what you please:
No discontented thought my mind shall seize.
Brutus.
I am of Collatine’s mind now. Valerius, sing us a bawdy song, and make’s merry: nay, it shall be so.
Valerius.
Brutus shall pardon me.
Scevola.
The time that should have been seriously spent in the state-house, I ha’ learnt securely to spend in a wenching-house, and now I profess myself anything but a statesman.
Horatius.
The more thy vanity.
Lucretius.
The less thy honour.
Valerius.
The more his safety, and the less his fear.
[Sings.] She that denies me, I would have;
Who craves me, I despise:
Venus hath power to rule mine heart,
But not to please mine eyes.
Temptations offered, I still scorn;
Denied, I cling them still.
I’ll neither glut mine appetite,
Nor seek to starve my will.
Diana, double clothed, offends;
So Venus, naked quite:
The last begets a surfeit, and
The other no delight.
That crafty girl shall please me best
That no, for yea, can say,
And every wanton willing kiss
Can season with a nay.
Brutus.
We ha’ been mad lords long, now let us be merry lords. Horatius, maugre thy melancholy, and Lucretius, in spite of thy sorrow, I’ll have a song. A subject for the ditty?
Horatius.
Great Tarquin’s pride and Tullia’s cruelty.
Brutus.
Dangerous; no.
Lucretius.
The tyrannies of the court, and vassalage of the city.
Scevola.
Neither. Shall I give the subject?
Brutus.
Do, and let it be of all the pretty wenches in Rome.
Scevola.
It shall: shall it, shall it, Valerius?
Valerius.
Anything according to my poor acquaintance and little conversance.
Brutus.
Nay, you shall stay, Horatius; Lucretius, so shall you; he removes himself from the love of Brutus that shrinks from my side till we have had a song of all the pretty suburbians:30 sit round. When, Valerius?
Valerius.
[Sings.] Shall I woo the lovely Molly,
She’s so fair, so fat, so jolly?
But she has a trick of folly,
Therefore I’ll ha’ none of Molly.
No, no, no, no, no, no;
I’ll have none of Molly, no, no, no.
Oh, the cherry lips of Nelly,
They are red and soft as jelly;
But too well she loves her belly,
Therefore I’ll have none of Nelly.
No, no, &c.
What say you to bonny Betty?
Ha’ you seen a lass so pretty?
But her body is so sweaty,
Therefore I’ll ha’ none of Betty.
No, no, &c.
When I dally with my Dolly,
She is full of melancholy;
Oh, that wench is pestilent holly;31
Therefore I’ll have none of Dolly.
No, no, &c.
I could fancy lovely Nanny,
But she has the loves of many,
Yet herself she loves not any,
Therefore I’ll have none of Nanny.
No, no, &c.
In a flax shop I spied Rachel,
Where she her flax and tow did hatchel;32
But her cheeks hang like a satchel,
Therefore I’ll have none of Rachel.
No, no, &c.
In a corner I met Biddy,
Her heels were light, her head was giddy;
She fell down, and somewhat did I,
Therefore I’ll have none of Biddy.
No, no, &c.
Brutus.
The rest we’ll hear within. What offence is there in this, Lucretius? what hurt’s in this, Horatius? is it not better to sing with our heads on than to bleed with our heads off? I ne’er took Collatine for a politician till now. Come, Valerius; we’ll run over all the wenches in Rome, from the community of lascivious Flora to the chastity of divine Lucrece; come, good Horatius.
[Exeunt.