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 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! times be, Though stern I some And how my darling loved me! to hear How glad she was 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 over—yes, 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 deoms 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. When Appius Claudius saw that deed, he shuddered and sank down, And hid his face some little space in 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, and then, with steadfast feet, Strode right across the Market-place, and up 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, Even the mighty multitude fell back to right and left. And he hath passed in safety unto his woful home, And there ta'en horse to tell the camp what deeds are done in Rome. Then Appius Claudius gnawed his lip, and the blood left his cheek; And thrice he beckoned to the crowd, 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 Tribunes 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. Twelve times the crowd made at him; five times they seized his gown; Small chance was his to rise again, if once they got him down; And sharper came the pelting; and evermore the yell"Tribunes! we will have Tribunes!" rose with a louder swell. One stone hit Appius in the mouth, and one beneath the ear; And ere he reached Mount Palatine, he swooned with pain and fear. His cursed head, that he was wont to hold so high with pride, Now, like a drunken man's hung down and swayed from side to side; And when his stout retainers had brought him to his door, His face and neck were all one cake of filth and clotted gore. As Appius Claudius was that day, so may his grandson be! God send Rome one such other sight, and send me there to Lord Macaulay. see ! 256 A PIOUS EDITOR'S CREED. A PIOUS EDITOR'S CREED. (From the Biglow Papers.) This satire is aimed at certain American editors, who, as the vulga proverb has it, "wait on Providence, and see which way the cat jumps,' and is as telling a piece of satire, in its line, as some passages in Mr. Lowell's Fable for Critics."-J. A. F. I DU believe in Freedom's cause, I love to see her stick her claws To dror resolves an' triggers, I du believe the people want Fer I hev loved my country sence I du believe in any plan Ez long ez, like a lumberman, I go free-trade thru thick an' thin, The folks to vote, an' keeps us in I du believe it's wise and good An' orthydox conditions ;- A PIOUS EDITOR'S CREED. I du believe in special ways. O' prayin' an' convartin'; The bread comes back in many days, I du believe hard coin the stuff I du believe with all my soul I du believe thet I should give I du believe thet all o' me Doth bear his souperscription, Will, conscience, honor, honesty, 257 |