Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A62347
|
Romulus and Hersilia, or, The Sabine war a trage dy acted at the Dukes Theatre.
|
Behn, Aphra, 1640-1689.
|
1683
(1683)
|
Wing S878; ESTC R9970
|
42,508
|
69
|
have this skirmish grow into a Battle Ho Lausus Bid those Rutilian succours halt till further Orders 1. Sab. The Romans Sir draw from their works apace Cur. No matter I know they are too brave To use their odds O are you come Sir Enter Hostilius and other Romans Host. To his party Stand here approach no nearer As you respect your lives Cur. To his Withdraw to the same distance And leave me single to my Generous Enemy Host. Curtius I see you are Noble and dare be brave I ought in Justice then to ask your Pardon That I e're questioned it they were rash words And I repent ' em Cur. Spare your Apologies First try what truth Is in the appearance If I indeed have Courage You may have cause enough Sir to repent But if you find me shrink chastize me for it Host. The same for me Come Sir this is for Romulus The best of Men and sweet Hersilia's cause They fight and pause Cur. Sure Hostilius you but dally and hardly think me Such an Enemy as may deserve you utmost force Know then if you are Romulus Champion I am his secret Rival I love Hersilia Tho she her self yet never knew it And with so strong a Passion That were not Tatius for this war should he Forget his Daughter yet I my self Would raise an Army to redeem my Mistress This sure will make you fight in earnest Host. Unhappily discovered O I am wounded In the most tender part about me thou hast Unkindly rob'd me of my Honour That which I late design'd my dear Friends quarrel Is now my own my boasted Friendship spight Of all my reason basely yeilds to love The near extinguished flame rages again Now I have found a Rival Hold Curtius Let me reward your secret with a another That 's yet unknown to all the world I love Hersilia I wish I cou'd not say Equal to Romulus and if my flame So hardly yeild to what I owe to him The Good the Great the God-born Romulus How can I hear thy Claim Have at thy heart Cur. Guard well thy own Hostilius my heart can know No wounds but what Hersilia gave Fight both Wounded Cur. How just and how invincible so e're You think your cause I see 't will not protect you You are not invulnerable You can bleed As well as I. Host. It is my glory Curtius I never loved my blood till now that it appears So ready to be spent in her dear cause For whom I have it Flow flow for ever You immortal Fountains the streams you see O Sabine Are not the Ebbs of life but springs of love Cur. That shall be thus determined Fight 1. Sab. Should we stand here and see the noble Curtius Fight to death 2. Sab. It is not reason His life 's not all his own but partly ours 1. Rom. See yonder Sabines move to assist their Leader We must not see the brave Hostilius fall opprest by number The Soldiers draw to their Principals and all engage Enter Romulus Rom. My Friend engaged and wounded it was a lucky Chance that brought me to this quarter He engages the Sabines beaten off Host. Ill timed assistance had not he appear'd Either I might have kill'd or dyed Fortune I cannot thank thee for this kindness Aside Rom. Still brave and still in noble danger why Are you so covetous of Honour Friend As thus to steal it from your Romulus And not acquaint me with the envy'd purchase Why that emphatick sigh I know 't is not your wounds Host. A wound how deep soever was never worth it But these are slight Rom. Slight as they are I 'le urge the cause no further Till I have seen 'em drest Host. I 'de rather make 'em wider why do we not Pursue the Enemy Let me but once again Engage with Curtius and I will never ask Another favour Rom. You shall not go Holds him I never us'd my power upon my friend till now Indeed you shall not go Host. Under how greivous a restraint am I Who can with pleasure neither live nor dye Exeunt SCENE II. The Pallace Enter Tarpeia Portia Port. WHat a sad sight Tarpeia have we had From yonder Tarrace The memory still afflicts me Methinks it is a most undecent thing To see brave men whom nature sure ordain'd For better ends and more to her advantage Like Tygers fight and wory one another Tarp. You tremble Portia that which chills your blood Has heated mine to noble Emulation Had I been man I had not stood with you Idle spectator of the brave engagement But run among 'em wild to the thickest action Port. Sure you but jest can any woman have Thoughts so extravagant Tarp. Nature as wrong'd me when she made me Woman Or else when I was form'd she heedless and hastily Snatch't the next Soul for me and left my Sex Imperfect Port. Love is our Province Women know no Wars But of the passions Hope Fear soft desires Sorrows and suddain joys make all our Battels Happy are you Tarpeia since your heart Thus arm'd seems proof against that passion Which kills and even damns so many of us Tarp. Wou'd it were so my Portia as you fancy But waveing this I prithee tell me freely Which you esteem the most deserving Men Our Romans or your Sabines Port. Ay this I like indeed I 'de rather talk Of gallant Men than see 'em fight and kill By Iuno then Tarpeia I esteem Your Roman Meen it speaks a Soul more great A finer shape a face more pleas'd a look More amorous than ours Tarp. Come this is all but Complement to me Methinks your Sabines much excel our Men Solid Majestical of such a look As speaks 'em truly just and even tempered More noble than to give a wrong but when Received duly requiting Port. Call 'em severe Tarpeiu and revengeful O did you know how strict they guard their Women Seldome or never seen abroad but at A Sacrifice or publick Rites to Heaven Thus Tatius kept his Daughters a Man so just He knows no mercy Tarp. But what of Curtius prithee Port. You have named the only he of all our Nation That 's like a Man indeed such as I 'de have him Young Courtly Brave well made and Noble born Mighty obliging and of as mighty Courage Tarp. She reads my closer thoughts before she spake My Soul had fram'd this Character of Curtius aside Port. But for that one we have a world of others Who though indu'd with vertue upon vertue Are yet of such a sullen gravity And so morosely wise you 'd think 'em out Of humour with the world yet more contented In a small House and Garden than Kings in Courts Tarp. But Curtius Port. Seems more a Roman than a Sabine he Scorns the low thoughts of dull Philosophy And since the Gods gave him a Princes Soul He overlooks the fate of a Plebeian Rome Rome must Rule the World it can't be otherwise Since she alone can shew a thousand such I fancy Romulus
ROMULUS AND HERSILIA OR THE SABINE WAR A TRAGEDY Acted at the Dukes THEATRE Militat omnis Amans habet sua Castra Cupido Ovid. LONDON Printed for D. Brown at the Black-Swan and Bible without Temple-Bar and T. Benskin in St. Brides Church-yard Fleet-street 1683. PROLOGUE Spoken by Mrs. Butler HOw we shall please ye now I cannot say But Sirs 'Faith here is News from Rome to day Yet know withal we 've no such Packets here As you read once a Week from Monkey Care But ' stead of that Lewd Stuff that clogs the Nation Plain Love and Honour tho quite out of fashion Ours is a Virgin Rome long long before Pious Geneva Rhetorick call'd her Whore For be it known to their Eternal Shames Those Saints were always good at calling Names Of Scarlet Whores let 'em their Wills devise But let 'em raise no other Scarlet lies Lies that advance the Good Old Cause and bring Into Contempt the Prelate with the KING Of what will such vile Brutes be now affraid When Rats and Weazles gnaw the Lyon's Beard And then in Ignoramus Holes they think Like other Vermin to lie close and stink What have ye got ye Conscientious Knaves With all your Fancy'd Power and Bully Braves With all your standing to 't your Zealous Furies Your Lawless Tongues and Arbitrary Juries Your Burlesque Oaths when one Green-Ribbon-Brother In Conscience will be Perjur'd for another Your Plots Cabals Your Threats Association Ye shame Ye very Nusance of the Nation What have ye got but one poor Word Such Tools Were Knaves before to which you 've added Fools Now I dare swear some of you Whigsters say Come on now for a swinging Tory Play But Noble Whigs pray let not those Fears start ye Nor fright hence any of the Sham Sheriffs Party For if you 'l take my censure of the story It is as harmless as e're came before ye And writ before the times of Whig and Tory. The PERSONS Romulus King of Rome Hostilius A Noble Roman his Friend Spurius Tarpeius Commander of a Fort in Rome Tatius General of the Sabines Curtius A Commander of Note in the Sabine Army WOMEN Hersilia Daughter of Tatius and Wife to Romulus Feliciana Her Sister young and Innocent Tarpeia Daughter of Tarpeius Sabine Ladies attending Hersilia Portia Cloe Cornelia Souldiers and Attendants The Scene Rome Romulus Hersilia OR THE Sabine War ACT. I. SCENE I. Romulus Hersilia Hostilius and Attendance Rom. WHY weeps Hersilia What malicious sorrow envies the world the luster of those eyes and draws a Cloud o're beauties richest treasure Has love appear'd injurious Do you repent the blessings you have given your Romulus And do I seem to you too the hated Ravisher your severe Father makes me Hers. Pardon my dearest Lord pardon these tears t is the soft flame of love here at my heart makes these warm drops distillt is for you Had I less value for my Romulus I had not known these sorrows Witness you Heavens I wish I had a voice might reach the ear of every Roman every Sabine nay through all Italy while thus I vindicate my Romulus from any force on me but that of love You Gods was this a Rape no it was all consent and all mutual design But what is love what 's Truth what 's Justice when my Flint-hearted Father calls it a Rape and vows revenge Rom. And is this all my Love are these the fears that cause the precious shower If this be all stay those dear streams whose every drop's a pearl of value to redeem a Captive King I Honour Tatius as Hersilia's Father but if he brings us War and as a Foe approaches Rome swelling with empty threats I 'll tell him in the language of my Father Mars I slight his anger smile at his Revenge Hers. But I must be unhappy whoever wins you must lose sufficiently Whether my Father or my Husband bleeds still I am wounded good Heavens why have you made the sweets of love ever to be allay'd with so much bitterness Rom. You kill me with your tears My love my love wou'd you have me weep too Forbear or I shall lose my Manhood while all that 's Roman in me melts away to see you thus desolved in sorrows what wou'd you have me do Sweetest of all thy Sex at your Command I 'll fall at Tatius feet and bid him cut my head off because I love his Daughter more then ten thousand lives Hers. Forbid it all you Gods no live my Lord live to defend Hersilia your Hersilia from a cruel Father who wou'd not let her live that is not love her Romulus Live to defend that Romulus Hersilia's better self from an unjust invader Methinks I feel inspired a courage truly brave and truly Roman let the malicious world assault me with all its fury while I am thus inthron'd in your dear Armes I am secure of Fortune Rom. Ay! now I 'm blest now now I Reign indeed now at this omen I see my Infant Rome lift her aspiring head above the Nations while all the Ocean and the remotest Isles dance at her smiles and tremble at her frowns O thou brighter Venus thou more Majestick Iuno can you say this to me and not transfer at the same time the whole worlds Empire hither Hostilius Friend why are you silent speak my best Friend am I not truly great can there be greater Host. aside Oh tormenting Question How shall I answer this and not discover a base unfriendly envy Away degenerate Passion I 'll tear thee from my long abused heart or tear that heart out Rom. What means this silence Does ill fate appear in all its various forms of sorrow to me Here drown'd in tears and there in silent groans She cannot sure keep long from me since she has made so near approaches You two divide my Soul The best of Women and the worthiest Friend and do you strive whose grief shall most afflict me Host. Forgive me Sir or rather pitty me t is I am only wretched amidst this common Joy opprest with an ill timed and causeless Melancholly 'T is a disease I know let it not be infectious why should you be concern'd to hear me sigh Are not you blest in your Hersilias love you are an Emperour a God in that and you deserve it which of all the immortal beings woud not change Heavens with Romulus Woud you contemplate the Celestial Glories You have 'em here Wou'd you see brighter Stars than those above behold 'em in these eyes Woud you have Musick far beyond that of the higher Orbs Hersilias voice shall give it Woud you be immortal and taste Ambrosia You have it in these Lips The dyet of the Gods is pall'd and course to that But I 'm a Devil damn'd to dispair and silence Aside Rom. Can I be happy and Hostilius wear a Mourning look My Joys should be all yours or mine your sorrows if I 'm thus highly blest and sure I am pertake of all my