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From “Virginia”
STRAIGHTWAY Virginius led the maid | |
| A little space aside, | |
| To where the reeking shambles stood, | |
| Piled up with horn and hide; | |
| Close to yon low dark archway, | 5 |
| Where, in a crimson flood, | |
| Leaps down to the great sewer | |
| The gurgling stream of blood. | |
| |
| Hard by, a flesher on a block | |
| Had laid his whittle down: | 10 |
| Virginius caught the whittle up, | |
| And hid it in his gown. | |
| And then his eyes grew very dim, | |
| And his throat began to swell, | |
| And in a hoarse, changed voice he spake, | 15 |
| “Farewell, sweet child! Farewell! | |
| |
| “O, how I loved my darling! | |
| Though stern I sometimes be, | |
| To thee, thou know’st, I was not so,— | |
| Who could be so to thee? | 20 |
| And how my darling loved me! | |
| How glad she was to hear | |
| My footstep on the threshold | |
| When I came back last year! | |
| |
| “And how she danced with pleasure | 25 |
| To see my civic crown, | |
| And took my sword, and hung it up, | |
| And brought me forth my gown! | |
| Now, all those things are over,— | |
| Yes, all thy pretty ways, | 30 |
| Thy needlework, thy prattle, | |
| Thy snatches of old lays; | |
| |
| “And none will grieve when I go forth, | |
| Or smile when I return, | |
| Or watch beside the old man’s bed, | 35 |
| Or weep upon his urn. | |
| The house that was the happiest | |
| Within the Roman walls, | |
| The house that envied not the wealth | |
| Of Capua’s marble halls, | 40 |
| |
| “Now, for the brightness of thy smile, | |
| Must have eternal gloom, | |
| And for the music of thy voice, | |
| The silence of the tomb. | |
| The time is come! See how he points | 45 |
| His eager hand this way! | |
| See how his eyes gloat on thy grief, | |
| Like a kite’s upon the prey! | |
| |
| “With all his wit, he little deems | |
| That, spurned, betrayed, bereft, | 50 |
| Thy father hath, in his despair, | |
| One fearful refuge left. | |
| He little deems that in this hand | |
| I clutch what still can save | |
| Thy gentle youth from taunts and blows, | 55 |
| The portion of the slave; | |
| |
| “Yea, and from nameless evil, | |
| That passes taunt and blow,— | |
| Foul outrage which thou knowest not, | |
| Which thou shalt never know. | 60 |
| Then clasp me round the neck once more, | |
| And give me one more kiss; | |
| And now, mine own dear little girl, | |
| There is no way but this!” | |
| |
| With that he lifted high the steel, | 65 |
| And smote her in the side, | |
| And in her blood she sank to earth, | |
| And with one sob she died. | |
| Then, for a little moment, | |
| All people held their breath; | 70 |
| And through the crowded forum | |
| Was stillness as of death; | |
| |
| And in another moment | |
| Brake forth, from one and all, | |
| A cry as if the Volscians | 75 |
| Were coming o’er the wall. | |
| Some with averted faces | |
| Shrieking fled home amain; | |
| Some ran to call a leech; and some | |
| Ran to lift up the slain. | 80 |
| |
| Some felt her lips and little wrist, | |
| If life might there be found; | |
| And some tore up their garments fast, | |
| And strove to stanch the wound. | |
| In vain they ran, and felt, and stanched; | 85 |
| For never truer blow | |
| That good right arm had dealt in fight | |
| Against a Volscian foe. | |
| |
| When Appius Claudius saw that deed, | |
| He shuddered and sank down, | 90 |
| And hid his face some little space | |
| With the corner of his gown; | |
| Till, with white lips and bloodshot eyes, | |
| Virginius tottered nigh, | |
| And stood before the judgment-seat, | 95 |
| And held the knife on high. | |
| |
| “O dwellers in the nether gloom, | |
| Avengers of the slain, | |
| By this dear blood I cry to you | |
| Do right between us twain; | 100 |
| And even as Appius Claudius | |
| Hath dealt by me and mine, | |
| Deal you by Appius Claudius, | |
| And all the Claudian line!” | |
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| So spake the slayer of his child, | 105 |
| And turned and went his way; | |
| But first he cast one haggard glance | |
| To where the body lay, | |
| And writhed, and groaned a fearful groan, | |
| And then, with steadfast feet, | 110 |
| Strode right across the market-place | |
| Unto the Sacred Street. | |
| |
| Then up sprang Appius Claudius: | |
| “Stop him; alive or dead! | |
| Ten thousand pounds of copper | 115 |
| To the man who brings his head.” | |
| He looked upon his clients; | |
| But none would work his will. | |
| He looked upon his lictors; | |
| But they trembled, and stood still. | 120 |
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| And as Virginius through the press | |
| His way in silence cleft, | |
| Ever the mighty multitude | |
| Fell back to right and left. | |
| And he hath passed in safety | 125 |
| Unto his woful home, | |
| And there ta’en horse to tell the camp | |
| What deeds are done in Rome. | |
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