# The Sack of Rome/Act I
## 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)