Make way! The master comes to take his slave!
[Confusion. Appius rises, his face ablaze with passion.
Make way, ye fools! I'll call my colleagues here
With all their lictors. There will be bloodshed!
Make way!
Icilius. Ah! but to have my hands about
His throat, though for a moment, for a breath;
Though for a heart-beat and, beyond me, Hell!
Virginia (in a voice of agony). Father! My father!
Virginius. Quiet, little girl!
O, Appius, the final shred of hope,
The weakened flame, is gone—forever gone.
Before we part, indeed, one moment grant
To us aside, that I may speak with her.
Appius. Haste, then, old pleb! Nor tarry long for tears.
Virginius. Tears? What are they? My heart is dead and barren,
My soul athirst for death. Tears mean no more
To me than rain upon a broken stone.
[He leads the girl aside. All watch in breathless silence.
Virginia. O, Heavenly Powers above, deliver me,
By whirlwind or by sword, from this dread place!
Father, farewell! [Presses his hand to her lips.
Virginius. Ah! Touch it not!
[Snatches a knife from a butcher.
Thus only can I make thee free, my daughter!
[He plunges it into her bosom and she falls back into the arms of Icilius, who has freed himself and leaps to her side with a cry. Tumult and swaying of the crowd.
(Brandishing knife.) With this blood, Appius! thy life and thee
Devote I to perdition!
[Makes his way with the knife through the multitude. Icilius lays her body down, murmuring, "Virginia, by thy blood shall Rome be free!" [Exit.