grave; so twist mine earnest tongue As soon would wring it from its fevered roots, Mine eyeballs blind themselves with fiery tears Of love for Rome; my life would withered be With all the curses breathing forth, aflame With hate for Appius! Oh, ye gods! in what Have we outraged you that we now are cursed With such a blight as Famine never cast Over the fields of plenty, withering Alike the grain and the wild wayside bloom, Sweeping across the vast, bright lands of peace, And leaving staring Ruin in its way? Oh! Rome, thou much-wronged child of Romulus, That I might break the seals from off thine eyes, And place a flaming sword within thy hand, A watchword in thine ear—"Endure for her Who is thy rightful mistress, Liberty." A battle-cry upon thy glowing lips, "Onward!" A prayer within thy mighty heart, And prophecy to stir thy godlike soul To action. But the times are ripening! [A pause. Could I relate thy wrongs, I would not cease, Nor spare myself, but speaking, sink to earth, Worn with the task. Yet who can number them That are as numberless as Heaven's stars? I say, as I have said to you before, We Romans will again secede, again March, in a body, to the Sacred Mount, And threaten as of old another Rome, A nobler Rome, a Rome unbound and free, To found thereon, or else a revolution, Bloody and merciless and full of horrors,[10] Shall ravage Rome, but we be satisfied. The fire and the sword hath ready tongues; They fawn not to the great, nor spare the high, They lick and bite nor fail in eloquence. So, to the fire and the sword must we Resort; for city, home, and cherished ones Demand that guilty blood, as a libation, Be poured in answer to the blood of Rome, Which crieth to her children from the ground![Exeunt. [9] [10] [Exeunt. [11] [11] ACT II. ACT II. Scene I—the House of Appius. Scene I—the House of Appius.
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