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fathers bore； Still let your dens of torment be noisome as of yore； No fire
when Tiber freezes； no air in dog…star heat； And store of rods for free…born
backs； and holes for free…born feet。 Heap heavier still the fetters； bar closer
still the grate； Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruel hate。 But； by
the Shades beneath us； and by the gods above； Add not unto your cruel
hate your yet more cruel love！ Have ye not graceful ladies； whose spotless
lineage springs From Consuls； and High Pontiffs； and ancient Alban kings？
Ladies； who deign not on our paths to set their tender feet； Who from their
cars look down with scorn upon the wondering street； Who in Corinthian
mirrors their own proud smiles behold； And breathe the Capuan odors； and
shine with Spanish gold？ Then leave the poor Plebeian his single tie to
life The sweet； sweet love of daugther； of sister； and of wife； The gentle
speech； the balm for all that his vexed soul endures； The kiss； in which he
half forgets even such a yoke as yours。 Still let the maiden's beauty swell
the father's breast with pride； Still let the bridegroom's arms infold an
unpolluted bride。 Spare us the inexpiable wrong； the unutterable shame；
That turns the coward's heart to steel； the sluggard's blood to flame； Lest；
when our latest hope is fled； ye taste of our despair； And learn by proof； in
some wild hour； how much the wretched dare。''
。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。
。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。
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； 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
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whittle down： 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； ‘‘Farewell； sweet child！ Farewell！ Oh！ 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？ 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 to see my civic crown； And took
my sword； and hung it up； and brought me forth my gown！ Now； all those
things are overyes； all thy pretty ways； 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； 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； 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 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； 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； the
portion of the slave； Yea； and from nameless evil； that passeth taunt and
blow Foul outrage which thou knowest not； which thou shalt never know。
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； 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； 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 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 the slain； 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；
for never truer blow That good right arm had dealt in fight agains a
Volscian foe。
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When Appius Claudius saw that deed； he shuddered and sank
down； 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； and held the knife on high。 ‘‘Oh！ dwellers in the
nether gloom； avengers of the slain； By this dear blood I cry to you； do
right between us twain； And even as Appius Claudius hath dealt by me and
mine； Deal you by Appius Claudius and all the Claudian line！'' So spake
the slayer of his child； 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； an then； with steadfast feet； 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 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。 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 unto his woeful home； And there ta'en horse
to tell the camp what deeds are done in Rome。
By this the flood of people was swollen from every side； And
streets and porches round were filled with that o'erflowing tide； And close
around the body gathered a little train Of them that were the nearest and
dearest to the slain。 They brought a bier； and hung it with many a cypress
crown； And gently they uplifted her； and gently laid her down。 The face of
Appius Claudius wore the Claudian scowl and sneer； And in the Claudian
note he cried； ‘‘What doth this rabble here？ Have they no crafts to mind at
home； that hitherward they stray？ Ho！ lictors； clear the market…place； and
fetch the corpse away！'' The voice of grief and fury till then had not been
loud； But a deep sullen murmur wandered among the crowd； Like the
moaning noise that goes before the whirlwind on the deep； Or the growl of
a fierce watch…dog but half aroused from sleep。 But when the lictors at that
word； tall yeomen all and strong； Each with his axe and sheaf of twigs；
went down into the throng； Those old men say； who saw that day of
sorrow and of sin； That in the Roman Forum was never such a din。 The
wailing； hooting； cursing； the howls of grief and hate； Were heard beyond
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the Pincian Hill； beyond the Latin Gate。 But close around the body； where
stood the little train Of them that were the nearest and dearest to the slain；
No cries were there； but teeth set fast； low whispers and black frowns； And
breaking up of benches； and girding up of gowns。 'Twas well the lictors
might not pierce to where the maiden lay； Else surely had they been all
twelve torn limb from limb that day。 Right glad they were to struggle back；
blood streaming from their heads； With axes all in splinters； and raiment
all in shreads。 Then Appius Claudius gnawed his lip； and the blood left his
cheek； And thrice he beckoned with his hand； and thrice he strove to speak；
And thrice the tossing Forum set up a frightful yell： ‘‘See； see； thou dog！
what thou hast done； and hide thy shame in hell！ Thou that wouldst make
our maidens slaves must first make slaves of men。 Tribunes！ Hurrah for
Trubunes！ Down with the wicked Ten！'' And straightway； thick as
hailstones； came whizzing through the air； Pebbles； and bricks； and
potsherds； all round the curule chair： And upon Appius Claudius great fear
and trembling came； For never was a Claudius yet brave against aught but
shame。 Though the great houses love us not； we own； to do them right；
That the