Oh, tearful sight! Ah me, most sorrowful! Thou art Cornelia, whom I oft have seen, Of whom I've heard from thy dear lover's lips. I knew him well; he waits for thee beyond The sea, in the broad Islands of the Blest, Where heroes find a haven and a rest.

[She smooths the other's brow in silence for a space, and then proceeds.

Look up, poor broken spirit, and discern A friendly face and weep upon my heart. She will not rouse herself! Good people, pray, Press not upon her. Bring a car, O slave, The lady is unable to return On foot. The carriage waits without the place? 'Tis well. And now to bring her to herself! Cornelia, waken! But look not so cold. Thou gentle heart! relieve the strain of grief[38] With tears of passion. Then come home, come home. Cor. (rousing herself). Tell me, who art thou, O thou noble maid? Virg. I am Virginia, whom thou knowest not. Cor. Canst thou not take me from this staring crowd? Their eyes are knives; the very air is poison. Oh, God! He is not dead? Virg. (assisting her to her feet). Come home, sweet sister. Tib. (sobbing). Cornelia, my Cornelia! Speak to me! Virg. Art thou Tiberius, thou tender child? Weep not; assist me with thy stricken sister.

[38]

[As the three, the slaves in close attendance, are about to make their way through the multitude, there comes a sudden disturbance, and Marcus Claudius springs forward.

Marc. Ho! stay a bit, my servant; stay with me!

[He seizes rude hold on Virginia, who shrieks aloud in terror. At once the four citizens make their way to her side.

Now by the gods! I only take mine own. Virg. Aid me, in Heaven's name, ye citizens! Deliver me from shame! Icilius! Icilius, my love, where art thou now? Marc. (in undertone). Thy struggles, maid, succeed in binding thee But closer in mine arms. Hast thou a lover? He hears thee not, and thou art my possession. Now, still thyself. Gods! Proserpine, thou art As strong as is Cybele's lioness! Marius. Foul slave! Loose thou the maid! Oh, insolence! Hor. Beast! I will kill thee, maim thee like a dog,[39] Unless thou takest thy hand from off the maid! Marc. (panting). Reserve thy threats and play thou warily, Justice upholds me! The multitude. Justice! Marc. (coolly). Shout less loud, Look not aghast, my masters. I will take This girl by law—she is my rightful slave. Hor. 'Tis false! Marc. Soft, friend, be calm, hold off, I pray! Hark! she was born a slave within my house, And thence was stolen and 

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