# The Sack of Rome/Act V
## ACT V
### Scene I

(The Senate assembled in the Palace.---Enter an Herald)
Herald
    The Vandal king, now at the gates of Rome,
    Sends on an Herald to the magistrates,
    The consuls, and the prefect of the city,
    The army, senate, and the Roman people,
    Demand an audience in Edoxia's name,
    And offers terms, on which fam'd Rome may yield
    To Genseric, and his all conquering sword.
    He comes to rescue from the usurper's arm,
    The remnant of the Theodosian line;
    Chase from the throne the traitor Maximus,
    And save the daughter of his great ally;
    Give Italy a king of more reknown,
    Or change the seat of empire from old Rome.
Senator
    Tell mighty Genseric, Petronius yields,
    Appall'd and frighten'd at his potent name.
    He left the city, sick of life and empire;
    No more ambitious of the world's applause,
    He wish'd to hide beyond the rapid Rhine;
    But fate forbad---a bold Burgundian chief,
    Arrested his career, and cleft him down---
    Amidst the cries of citizens and friends,
    Of foes to Rome, and of Edoxia's slaves.
    His body, mangled by a thousand wounds,
    Was thrown contemptuously from Tyber's bank.
(Exeunt)

### Scene II

(Opens and discovers the Citizens in great Confusion--- Leo at the Head of a Procession of Priests, Senators and Nobles, meet Genseric in suppliant postures, without the Palace)
Leo
    Edoxia sends all health to Genseric,
    Her friend---her royal brother, and demands
    Protection for the imperial house:
    That no rough foot approach the palace gate,
    Or hostile arm to plunder, or invade,
    The royal daughters, or the wife of Cæsar.
Genseric
    Tell her that Genseric himself will haste,
    To guard the princesses and Cæsar's wife.
Leo
    She begs repose after the furious storm;
    And thy permission to be left retir'd,
    To weep awhile the destiny of Rome;
    To pour the balm of pity on the breast
    Of virgin sorrow---to lift the drooping head
    Of undissembled grief---hung like the lily
    O'er the wasted vale---when the rough surge's
    Roaring deluge sweeps down all around,
    Except the naked bloom---propless and weak,
    And quivering on the marge of the next tide---
    Whose wat'ry wave may wash the broken fragment
    From its natal soil.
Genseric
    Hymenial songs must cheer these drooping maids---
    They each shall choose a Goth or Vandal lord,
    And rase the lineage of the Roman name
    In the warm grots of Asdrubal and Hanno,
    For which their ancestors in Carthage bled,
    And armies perish'd in the Lybian sands.
Leo
    Now thou art master of the Roman world,
    Let clemency bespeak thee more a king,
    Than all thy triumphs o'er subjected Rome.
Genseric
    The multitude disarm'd---I leave their lives;
    Plebeian slaves may tremble and retire;
    But all of noble or patrician blood,
    Of ev'ry age and sex, my prisoners are.
    Go thou, and tell the empress to prepare,
    First, to receive her sovereign in the palace---
    Then with her daughters, follow him to Carthage.
(Exeunt)

### Scene III

(Edoxia and Leo in the Imperial Palace)
Leo
    Fortune ingulphs thy family and throne,
    Beneath her shifting tide they're floating down,
    And for thine house my soul in anguish bleeds;
    The capitol---thy crown---and freedom lost---
    Thy daughters seiz'd, Placidia borne away,
    And made the mistress of a Gothic lord,
    And Genseric himself is near the palace,
    With hosts of Vandals crowding in the rear.
Edoxia
    No more---death to my eyes---the tyrant comes---
    The chains prepar'd---I hear the shackles clank.
    Arise ye furies, from Tartarus' gulf,
    And drag him peace meal, to the infernal shades.
(Enter Genseric)
    Hah! traitor, is it thus thou meet'st Edoxia?
    Rob'd of her crown---a homager to thee---
    Strip'd of her robes---her diadem and wealth,
    And rudely bid to quit my native clime,
    Still mere to swell thy fierce and savage pomp:
    The princesses insulted---and enslav'd---
    By vulgar hands drag'd to the Vandal tent.
    Oh! burst my heart---and let my eye strings break,
    Let furious billows swallow up his fleet,
    And darkness cover nature in the wreck,
    Ere I obey, and see my househould train,
    Lag at the feet of his triumphal car.
Genseric
    A milder tone becomes a captive queen,
    At whose request invaded and subdu'd,
    Rome prostrate lies beneath her conquering lord.
Edoxia
    Ah! what a contrast to the splendid tale
    Of Roman greatness---her illustrious fame.---
Genseric
    Empire decays when virtue's not the base,
    And doom'd to perish when the parts corrupt.
Edoxia
    My soul's as hot with rage, remorse, revenge,
    As are the Lybian sands when Sirius reigns,
    Or the thrice heated summer solstice burns.
Genseric
    Then, to console and mitigate thy rage,
    I'll haste to Tunis with the illustrious throng,
    Where Hunneric, my son, shall wed Eudocia.
Edoxia
    Oh! dreadful threat---severer far than death.
    Where are the sacred, celebrated shades,
    Who wash'd the stains from chaste Lucretia's fame
    In red libations from a tyrant's heart---
    Oh! shield Eudocia---snatch her from despair.
    Rescue a hapless, chaste, and friendless maid
    From base, abandon'd, prostituted slaves!---
Genseric
    Fix'd as the fates that roll th' etherial orbs,
    I now forbid a murmur, or a sigh.
Edoxia
    Thou may'st forbid the morning sun to rise;
    Bid ocean cease to lave the pebbled shore,
    Or Roman souls to mix with Vandal slaves,
    And be obey'd---ere sighs are hush'd,
    Or execrations cease.---
Genseric
    Each chief has seiz'd a princely Roman dame,
    The booty's safe, and prosperous gales invite;
    And now my guards escort the empress on.
Edoxia
    What! thus commanded in imperious strains,
    To haste from Rome to Africk's scorching realms,
    Where Tophet gapes and slaughter'd infants cry,
    By thousands offer'd their infernal gods:---
    Jehovah! why do all thy thunders sleep---
    While each black crime the demons perpetrate,
    Is acted o'er by this infernal race.
Genseric
    Slaves, hasten on, and seize your royal charge,
    And guard her safe to Carthagena's coast.
Edoxia
    Down on my head th' avenging gods have pour'd
    Each curse the house of Hannibal could frame,
    Or vanquish'd Carthage utter in despair,
    For all the wrongs, oppression, and disgrace,
    By haughty Rome, inflicted on her sons.
    Now ye stern souls, ye venerated shades,
    Heroes who fell on Zama's routed plains---
    Look down and triumph, vengeance is compleat.
    Behold the last of the Horatian line,
    Sent to the margin of the burning plains,
    The tawny front of Afric's blacken'd tribes,
    To stand an exil'd slave---to rave and weep
    The loss of empire and the fall of Rome,
    Amidst Numidia's sands and sooty sons
    But thanks to Heav'n, the empress of the west
    Has yet the means, and will an empress die.
(Draws a conceal'd poignard, and attempts to stab herself)
Genseric
    Slaves, seize her hand---she must not die---
    'Twill half defeat the triumph of the day.
Edoxia
    Enough of life and all life's idle pomp---
    Nor by a tyrant's fiat will I live---
    I leave the busy, vain, ambitious world
    To cheat itself anew, and o'er and o'er
    Tread the same ground their ancestors have trod,
    In chace of thrones, of sceptres, or of crowns,
    'Till all these bubbles break in empty air,
    Nor leave a trace of happiness behind.
(Edoxia is led off in golden chains)
(Genseric, from the Palace Gates, gives Orders to the Vandal Troops)
    Down with the Roman eagles, statues, temples,
    Monuments of fame---their trophies tear:---
    Strip all the vestments from their ancient gods---
    Their pageant heroes level with the dust,
    And rase their names from memory and time.
    The golden shrines and saintly relicks seize;
    Both gilded busts and roofs of bronze destroy;
    The branches, tables, candlesticks of gold,
    In ostentation shewn by Jewish priests,
    And in triumphal pomp transfer'd to Rome,
    With all the treasures of Zenobia's house,
    Palmyra's wealth, and Asia's spoils, secure---
    And teach the naked capital to weep,
    Her long arrearages to all mankind,
    For plunder'd nations, cities, kingdoms, climes.
    What has this mighty Roman name to boast?
    'Tis time to rase her from the list of nations,
    And blast the world no more by Roman crimes---
    Then plead prescription, as 'twas done by Rome.
    Break up their fountains, poison all their baths,
    Ere they contaminate the Vandal troops
    With soft, effeminate, luxurious sloth?
    Ransack each church, and pillage all the city,
    Nor leave a drachma round the seven hills.
(Exeunt)

### Scene IV

(Hunneric and Traulista)
Hunneric
    If or ambition, wealth, or airy fame,
    Could sooth to rest, my soul would be at ease;
    But yet some secret heaviness I feel,
    Ne'er felt before, that rankles at the heart,
    And blasts the joys of victory and conquest.
Traulista
    The world, and all its treasures at command;
    And beauty, emulous to win thy love---
    What can disturb thy peace?
Hunneric
    Eudocia---the lovely, weeping, tender, fair Eudocia---
    She is my prize---my prisoner---my wife---
    Yet every motion of her eye appals;
    And when she speaks, I like a statue stare,
    Unable to reply, or to withdraw.
Traulista
    These Roman maids have some enchanting arts,
    That bend the boldest warrior to their smiles;
    Yet they are not so cold as they may seem.
Hunneric
    She holds me by some fascinating tie,
    Spite of my prowess, or superiour strength:
    Did the celestial deities combine
    To form her thus?---Her image makes me hate
    The wanton beauties of our amorous clime.
    In her majestick presence, I'm as tame,
    As the young lambkin in the shepherd's cot;
    I fearcely move me, lest I should offend;
    It may be love---I fear it is---
    Yet spurn it from my thought---yes, I adore,
    My worship is profound---my veneration such
    I'm tenfold more a slave than is the princess.
Traulista
    Perhaps, some darling favourite indulg'd,
    May find Eudocia soft as yielding air,
    Though frozen to the blandishments of love---
    Cold as the Scythian snows to thine embrace;
    Yet I could let a fatal secret out,
    Would give a clue to wake her passions up.
Hunneric
    Ah! say Traulista;
    Half my booty shall be thy reward;
    And fifty captives of the fairest dames
    Shall swell thy haram to the eastern stile.
Traulista
    Know, all the sex I equally despise;
    And did some busy demon wake a wish
    To toy and trifle with some matchless fair,
    I'd puff it off;---if I could blush, the thought
    Would burn my cheek.---Give me a Roman province,
    Or give an army to patrole the empire,
    To rid the world of their patrician pride,
    Or yet more turbulent plebeian blood,
    That has, for more than thirteen hundred years,
    Plagu'd all mankind with their ambitious fires.
Hunneric
    Not less than thee, I hate the Roman name:
    Command thy terms---though they're to govern Rome,
    To wear a crown---to reign in Gaul or Spain;
    Both by the cross, and by the ancient gods,
    Here is my signet---claim thine own reward.
Traulista
    What if within this garden lies conceal'd
    The rival of thy love?
Hunneric
    The game more easy---more secure the prey:
    By all the blood Genseric's arm has spilt,
    The traitor dies before the morning dawns.
Traulista
    Belov'd and favour'd by the fair Eudocia,
    The brave Gaudentius waits to bear her off.
Hunneric
    Hah! the son of Ætius?---thy valiant friend?---
Traulista
    He once presum'd to call his friend a traitor,
    And thinks that mine is such a milky soul
    As to forgive---'tis not a soldier's trade:
    My sword, my arm, aveng'd his bleeding sire,
    Nor shall the son ungratefully defy
    That sword---that prowess---that decided strength
    Rome's legions fear, and trembling armies fly.
    But yet I bid resentment sleep awhile,
    'Till all was ripe an empire to subvert---
    I scorn to play at a less noble game.
    I rais'd Petronius to the imperial throne;
    But he, ungrateful, indolent and weak,
    At once forgot Hermannic's noble son;
    With vulgar princes rank'd him as a slave:
    The empress saw, and wanted such an arm,
    To back the rage that rankled in her breast,
    And rid her of Gaudentius, who'd refus'd
    To be her friend and confident to thee.
    He, raging mad with patriotick pride,
    Resign'd his love at freedom's sacred foot,
    Disgusted---urg'd against her fix'd design,
    And arm'd at once against the Vandal king.
    She bade me hope, as my reward, her daughter---
    But I've no wish the princess to possess;
    Yet my ambition burns to reign in Rome.
Hunneric
    Nail this Gaudentius to some grassy plot
    And thou shall triumph in the capitol.
Traulista
    This night is friendly to revenge and death:
    Between the gloom of midnight and the dawn,
    Just light enough beneath the cypress shade
    To track the heedless lover on his way:
    Yet could'st thou in Eudocia's presence draw,
    And lay her lover bleeding at her feet?
    When she to heaven erects her lily hand,
    In all the beauteous agony of grief,
    Heaves up her snowy breast, and sighs--- Gaudentius !
Hunneric
    'Twould sweeten my revenge, and steal my heart,
    To drag her instant to my slighted bed.
Traulista
    Then on and feast thee with the luscious sight;
    A triumph worthy of a Vandal prince.
(Exeunt)

### Scene V

(A Grotto in the Garden of the Palace--- Eudocia solus--- Gaudentius approaching)
Gaudentius
    These are the grots, the sacred silent walks,
    Where my Eudocia wanders from the world.
    Methinks I hear, within yon roseate bower,
    Some plaintive angel's soft harmonious voice:
    Perhaps, her guardian goddess down descends,
    From yonder silvern cloud capt mountain's brow,
    To watch her beauteous charge.---
(Listens)
(Eudocia within, in a soft, plaintive, agonizing voice)
    Oh! some kind seraph snatch my soul away,
    And shroud my griefs beneath the peaceful tomb;
    Or must a dagger ope a passage hence,
    To set me free from Hunneric's embrace?
Gaudentius
    'Tis she herself---'tis her symphonious voice:
    The murmuring maid in broken accents sighs;
    Tis my Eudocia whispering to her God.
(Enters the Grotto)
    Let not those sighs fear up an angel's breast;
    Nor let the wreck of empire strike too deep.
Eudocia
    Hah!---who art thou that boldly dares intrude
    On the last hour of this my still retreat?
    Some spy of Hunneric's, to watch my steps,
    Lest one short moment of repose I find,
    This last sad night, ere I'm completely curs'd.
Gaudentius
    May all the powers who guard the good and just
    Protect my princess!---
Eudocia
    Hah! my belov'd Gaudentius!---
    Dost thou yet live, through all the perils
    Of a barbarous siege, to see Eudocia
    Snatch'd from thy lov'd arms?---Alas! my fate,
    To what a hated rival am I doom'd!
Gaudentius
    I had not liv'd but for Eudocia's sake.
Eudocia
    Yet save a life much dearer than my own;
    Nor linger here, 'tis on the verge of death:
    Leave me to perish in my country's fall.
Gaudentius
    Not all the clangor, or the din of arms,
    Or roughen'd tempests, whose impetuous blasts,
    In fiery bolts, may rive the mountains up,
    Again shall tear me from my lov'd Eudocia.
Eudocia
    My lips can't utter, nor my tongue express,
    The anguish that my tortur'd soul endures:
    'Twas early duty nurs'd my infant love,
    And strictest virtue sanctifi'd the flame,
    'Till Valentinian fell---alas! no more;
    Nature---religion---reason---filial love,
    Forbid a union with the son of Ætius.
Gaudentius
    My brain grows hot---it kindles to distraction---
    This night secures my bliss---or---certain death.
Eudocia
    Oh! live Gaudentius---live for Rome's defence;
    Nor rob thy country of so brave an arm.
    Not crowns, or sceptres, or the world besides,
    Has aught to balance with my love for thee;
    Yet urge no more---fly hence and save thyself---
    One parting sigh---one solemn, last adieu---
    Then, for thy country's sake, forget Eudocia
Gaudentius
    Not till the pulse of life forgets to play,
    And death's cold dews pervade my quivering lip.
    Within this garden will I find a grave,
    Unless my princess dares an enterprise,
    Which lost this night, may never more return;
    I must attempt thy rescue ere the morn.
Eudocia
    In what new horror would this scene involve?
Gaudentius
    Arouse thy noble fortitude of mind---
    'Tis the decisive hour---the next subjects
    To Hunneric's embrace.---
Eudocia
    Not all that nature shudders at in death,
    Has half the terrors that his name conveys;
    Oh! save, if possible---prevent my fate.
Gaudentius
    Then fly with me from misery supreme.
Eudocia
    The port of Ostia's shut---and all the seas
    Fill'd with Genseric's fierce piratic slaves:---
    Where can the wretched fly?
Gaudentius
    Fly any where from Hunneric and death.
Eudocia
    Alas! my heart---my weak, my wavering heart!
Gaudentius
    Come, let us move to yonder small alcove;
    The brave Traulista, whom Genseric trusts,
    Most fortunately heads the nightly watch,
    Patroles the posts until the morning dawns;
    The moment that the midnight bell resounds,
    He brings a Vandal garb for my Eudocia,
    And aids our flight to the Tarentiae sea.
Eudocia
    Traulista!---I like not this Traulista---
    Traulista has a rough, a savage soul,
    Wrought up to treasons of the darkest hue.
Gaudentius
    His life he owes to Ætius and myself.
Eudocia
    But gratitude can never bind the base:
    An infidel to God---there is no tie---
    No principle to bind a worthless heart.
Gaudentius
    Hs is my friend; come, dissipate distrust.
Eudocia
    A thousand spectres stare on every side.
Gaudentius
    Let's lose no time, nor let thy fears retard;
(He offers to lead her out of the Bower)
    The hazy moon enwraps her tranquil face,
    And hides behind a thin transparent cloud,
    Lest she betray, by her resplendent beam
    Thy trembling step---the terror in thy eye.
(Moving slowly on)
Eudocia
    Methinks I hear some speedy foot advance.
(She starts back)
Gaudentius
    My generous friend anticipates the hour.
Eudocia
    Lie still, my heart---
    Nor burst the brittle casement of my breast.
(Enter servant)
Servant
    Away, my lord---fly to the thickest shade,
    Or, ere thou can'st escape, thou art undone.
{ {uc|Gaudentius}}
    Hah! betray'd!---
Servant
    Two ruffians arm'd, crawl round the citron walk---
    They nam'd Gaudentius---I stay'd to hear no more---
    But rush'd---and shot across the darken'd grove,
    To serve the princess and to save my lord.
Gaudentius
    Alas! my faithful Cassio---thou'rt too late,
    Yet as a soldier will I sell my life.
(Enter Hunneric and Traulista)
(Gaudentius makes a furious pass and mortally wounds Traulista)
Traulista
    Death to my hopes---damnation to his hand!---
Gaudentius
    Oh! heavens! Traulista---art thou the villain---
    Traitor---dastard---slave---lurking in secret,
    To betray thy friends?
Traulista
    Coward, come on---
    To brave in words thou may'st a dying man;
    Yet know I've life enough to dash to hell,
    And send thy puny soul to Pluto's shades,
    For daring once to threat Traulista's life.
Gaudentius
    High heaven has levell'd at thy treacherous heart
    The fatal stroke that justice' hand demands.
Traulista
    Now are there deities or devils---ghosts or gods,
    I'd thank them all had he have dy'd before me.
    My eye balls sink---my stiffen'd fibres fail!---
    Haste, Charon---with thy boat---and set me o'er
    The Stygian pool---blot out this being---
    'Tis a curse to man---yet if these Romans live
    In other worlds, I would exist again,
    To chase them from Elysium, as from Rome.
(Dies)
Hunneric
    Seize this young furious prince, and on the rack
(To his Guards)
    Extend each limb---with heated pincers tare,
    'Till I have time to find new tortures out.
Gaudentius
    Not thee, nor death, nor tortures do I fear,
    Would angel guards and ministers of fate
    First snatch Eudocia from thy loath'd embrace---
    Yet know, Gaudentius dies not as a slave.
(He rushes forward and engages Hunneric , who mortally wounds him.--- Eudocia runs between their swords, and offers her breast to Hunneric)
Eudocia
    Strike here, most noble Hunneric---end my pain---
    Now if thy soul can do one generous deed
    Emancipate thy prisoner---enhance the gift---
    Nor like a niggard do thy work by halves;
    But let me die with him, my life, my lord,
    My husband, my Gaudentius.
Hunneric
    No, my Eudocia, live---thou art my queen.
Eudocia
    If hell's dark empire had a charm for me,
    Then I might wish to be the Vandal queen.
Gaudentius
    Adieu, my fair---adieu, my lov'd Eudocia---
    Adieu to glory, empire and renown!---
(Falls)
Eudocia
    Oh! stay Gaudentius---let me assuage thy wounds,
    Support thy drooping head one moment more---
    Then I accompany my much lov'd lord.
(She faints)
Hunneric
    Slaves, bear her off---these are the sex's tricks---
    While her fond eyes hang on her paramour
    She'll play them o'er, and weep, and sigh, and rave,
    And faint again---yet cannot die with grief---
    But in mine arms she'll sink an easy bride.
Eudocia
    Heaven blot from time that curs'd, that blasted hour!
(The guards attempt to force her from the corpse of Gaudentius)
    Off murderers---nor tear me from his corpse---
    Let me come near---if still he breathes,
    And sip the last soft breath.---Ah; he is dead!
    In his last sob---the last of Romans died---
    Just Heaven is kind---I yet shall die with him.
    My throbbing heart almost forgets to beat---
    The slow pulsation lags---I sink---I fall---
    Time shakes the glass to sift out my last sands---
    Virtue, sublim'd by piety and truth,
    Now beckons to the skies---the curtain falls,
    And opes eternity---I've nought to ask
    Of this distracted world---but just to shrowd
    In the same peaceful tomb, with my Gaudentius.
(Dies)

### Epilogue

    Poets and heroes travelling from home,
    For perfect models, oft repair to Rome;
    Yet real prowess, or true sterling wit,
    Or genius there, they do not always hit.
    They had their bullies, sycophants and fools,
    And learned dunces in Apollo's schools;
    Their poetasters---pretty playful things,
    Who, patroniz'd by ladies, or by kings,
    By rules logistick, reason'd truth away,
    And form'd new systems fit for each new day;
    Zealots, or bigots to their fathers' creed,
    As infidels, or fashion gave the the lead;
    A proud republick, or a servile throng,
    Aw'd by a frown, or by a Nero's song;
    A celebrated, brave, heroick race,
    They'd save, or sell their country, for a place.
    For liberty---a poor unmeaning name,
    They shook the globe, and set the world in flame;
    But, factious, fickle, impious and bold,
    Enervated by luxury and gold,
    Ye've seen extinguish'd---great Apollo's fire,
    Untun'd his harp, and broke his sacred lyre.
    But in this age of literary claim,
    When taste and genius vie with Roman fame,
    Like them ye'll read, and candidly excuse
    A piece design'd for pleasure or for use;
    Though both the unities of place and time
    May'nt always tally with the true sublime,
    Nor buskin merit meet the mid day sky,
    A female bard still asks your candid eye.
    Sure the politeness of an infant nation
    Wont damn the play, and hiss it out of fashion;
    At the first reading on a winter's eve
    Pray cry encore ---a second may retrieve,
    And save her fame from ev'ry critick's rage
    To tread securely on Columbia's stage.
    No censuring bards, or little wits she fears,
    If ye are pleas'd, and Peter Pindar spares.
    The author asks but this small boon of you,
    Pray let it pass at least a night or two;
    And if the moral in this pious age
    Should let it live a week upon the stage;
    Some gambling fools by Maximus's fate
    Might learn their follies ere it was too late.
    Might stay at home and save their pretty spouses,
    And borns prevent by lodging at their houses.
    Others, by thinking, might be taught the odds,
    'Twixt him who fears and him who blasts the gods;
    Might choose to live and die a man of merit,
    Ere he'd be damn'd---an infidel of spirit;
    But, like Traulista's , let their follies end,
    Who basely have betray'd or told a friend.