Surely the ears of one who loves will hear, Surely the eyes of one who loves will see, And learn his fate, whether for good or ill.

He will forgive me for exposing her He loveth to the gaze of mult.i.tudes!

_Tib._ Ay, but most likely he was called to serve Rome in the latest skirmish with her foes.

Thy fear it is unfounded.

_Cor._ Nay, my child, The skirmishing they say is discontinued, And all who fought therein returned unto The camp, save only those who fell beneath The Sabine spears. My Love hath not been seen, And I can rest no longer in my house.

[_While they speak, the already clouded sky darkens so rapidly that all start and look out across the populated hills. A distant peal of thunder is heard, followed by a second, greater in volume. All press together, then a cry arises:_ "Way, make way! The sibyl of the vale would speak! She is inspired!" _The dense crowd parts and all swing backward in confusion. A flash of lightning breaks the heavy gloom, followed by a muttering of thunder. A few large raindrops fall. The sibyl enters through the mult.i.tude, a weird, mad form, with tossing hair and wild, disheveled garments._

_Sibyl._ Wail, walls of Rome, and weep, ye tender vales Of sweet Italia!

[_A murmur and a swaying. Voices contend for silence._

Oh! day of dole!

Oh, day of perfect woe! Oh, Furies' day Of fever and of tears! Oh, black despair!

The night of tyranny hath settled o'er Our city, roof-like shuts her from the air Of Heaven! And the hollow, brazen dome Of despotism closes o'er our heads; Black tyranny and red-hot despotism!

Had I hands long enough and nails as sharp As Hate, I'd tear in shreds the infernal web!

[_Another peal of thunder resounds. She points toward the heavy clouds._

My tongue is laden with the vast commands Of Jove, to-day. But Rome is deaf and mad.

The G.o.ds cry out upon this tyranny, The heavens in thunder clap their wrathful hands!

Yet Rome, the Rome of Romulus, the Rome Of Numa and the martial kings of old, Is deaf--is deaf and mad! Oh! woe, woe, woe!

[_With a prolonged, shrill wail of despair she vanishes amid the crowd. Great agitation now displayed by the majority of citizens. Enter a runner._

_Run._ Ye men of Rome, I bear ill news with me!

_The Cit._ What is't? Out with it! Dally not at all!

_Run._ Sicinius, our leader, he is dead!

[_A murmur of horror._

_Cor._ (_starting wildly forward_). Sicinius? Sicinius, the pleb?

Oh! G.o.ds of Heaven! Ye have struck me hard!

[_She sinks insensible upon the ground. Her slaves bend over her. Tiberius kneels beside her, sobbing bitterly._

_The Cit._ How died he?

_Run._ It is said by some that he, Being sent by the Decemvirs to select A spot most suitable whereon to camp, Fell into ambuscade and died along With several comrades.

_The Cit._ Slaughtered by the foe?

_Run._ So it hath been reported by the few That did escape. [_He pauses, then proceeds._ But hearken, citizens!

The bodies lay unspoil'd, with faces turned All toward one--that one, Sicinius.

The Ten hath hated and hath feared this man!

No more. Construe the meaning as ye list; I must away.

[_Exit runner. The four citizens, Horatius, Galba, Marius, and Hortensius, approach the p.r.o.ne form of Cornelia._

_Hor._ A lady of patrician birth! Good slaves, Can we a.s.sist thy mistress, who appears In such a piteous and hapless plight?

_Slave_ (_sobbing_). Alas! Alas! I know not what to do, Or what hath come upon her suddenly.

Ah! see, she stirs! Lady, awake! awake!

_Cor._ (_opening her eyes, but making no attempt to raise herself_).

Those words he used when last he came to me.

Oh! bitter, bitter fate! Say not awake, But sleep eternally! Sicinius!

_Galba._ It doth appear affection did exist Betwixt Rome's great plebeian and this lady.

_Tib._ Ay, sir, she loved him e'en as he loved her; But naught was said because they feared the Ten.

Nay, I was wrong! Sicinius and fear Are alien the one unto the other!

But rather did he bide his time until These men should be o'erthrown and Rome be freed From their most hateful laws and government.

_One of the mult.i.tude._ Hark to the boy! He is a demagogue.

_Another._ Nay, he is innocent, and therefore bold.

Parroting sentiments that are not his own.

_A third._ And yet he speaks the truth, the naked truth.

See how this woman hath been sadly wronged, And how her life is marred by these Decemvirs; For surely they gave orders for the death Of him who was a leader and a man!

Have they not feared him for these many months, Because his tongue is sharper than a sword?

And these two, a patrician and a pleb, Each representing cla.s.ses now united By common misery, are foully hurt, And scarred by fierce injustice from the Ten.

Vengeance! The time is ripe for vengeance. Rome Can bear no more. Sicinius is dead!

[_Murmurs of_ "Sicinius is dead!"

_Cor._ (_moaning as in pain_). Sicinius is dead!

Sicinius!

[_Enter Virginia, followed by Camilla. She espies Cornelia and at once approaches._

_Virg._ Kind citizens, let me to her, I pray.

[_She kneels beside the fainting girl._

Oh, tearful sight! Ah me, most sorrowful!

Thou art Cornelia, whom I oft have seen, Of whom I've heard from thy dear lover's lips.

I knew him well; he waits for thee beyond The sea, in the broad Islands of the Blest, Where heroes find a haven and a rest.

[_She smooths the other's brow in silence for a s.p.a.ce, and then proceeds._

Look up, poor broken spirit, and discern A friendly face and weep upon my heart.

She will not rouse herself! Good people, pray, Press not upon her. Bring a car, O slave, The lady is unable to return On foot. The carriage waits without the place?

'Tis well. And now to bring her to herself!

Cornelia, waken! But look not so cold.