pronounce me dead 'Gainst Kings results Offenders vainly plead And the most innocent the Sun can show When Kings conclude them criminal are so Nay 't is a crime t' excuse our selves to those Who by their title may our lives dispose And when they cut us off we must believe It is because we are unfit to live Pronounce my doom then Sir I will obey't The life that others love I ought to hate Nor do I think Valerius too severe He prosecutes his Mistriss murtherer I do with him against my self conspire He would my death and 't is my own desire With this distinction that I think by that To keep my honour in its present height Whereas he thinks thereby to blot that name I would perpetuate to live in Fame We rarely meet occasions Sir wherein A hearts whole stock of courage may be seen Valour acts more or less as time doth fit And as occasion serves or hinders it And manly or effeminate appears At the discretion of the censurers The common sort whose understandings be By ignorance limited to what they see Proportion force by its effects and guess At Valour as effects are more or less Expecting vainly that who wonders do Blest once by Fortune should do always so After an act illustriously bright All that seem less darken that actions light Men look we always should in every place Perform our actions with an equal grace Without considering in th' occasion What could have been or more or better done Nor seeing that in actions of less fame Th' occasion 's less the vertue still the same Great names by this injustice are defac'd Mens first Acts honours perish in their last And who once reaches a supream renown If he will hold it there must there sit down I shall not boast what honour I have got Your self great Sir saw my three Combats fought But 't will be hard ever again to find An opportunity of such a kind To crown my Valours worth with a success That must not after these exploits go less So that to give my Fame immortal breath I have no way but by immediate death I should have dy'd before nor liv'd so long I 've liv'd already to my Glory 's wrong A man like me perceives his name decays When but in danger of the least disgrace And my own hand e're this had clear'd the doubt But my blood 's yours and dare not 〈◊〉 out Without your leave Sir your allowance must Precede that action else it were unjust Rome wants no generous Warriors there are those When I am gone will fight her bravest foes As well as I have done and pluck fresh boughs Of greener Laurel to adorn her brows Then with an useless man great Sir dispence And if my acts deserve a recompence Let this be it that with this conqu'ring Arm Still with the vigour of late action warm I sacrifice my self to my own fame Without a mention of my Sisters name Scena Tertia Tullius Valerius Horace the Father Horace Sabina and Iulia. Sabina Oh hear her Sir in whose afflicted mind A Wifes and Sisters sorrows are combin'd Who desolate at your sacred feet in tears Laments her Race and for her Husband fears Not that I would by Artifice withdraw A guilty man from the offended Law Use him like one maugre his Victories But the brave Criminal in me chastise Let my unhappy blood his forfeit pay The Victim's still the same nor can you say Your justice is by pity overcome Whilst I his dearer part abide your doom His matchless love makes it appear he lives In his own person less than in his Wives And he if I be sacrific'd thereby A sadder death than in himself shall dye The death Ibeg and which I must obtain Will finishmine but aggravate his pain Behold Sir here th' excesses of my woe And the sad state my life 's reduc't unto How can I without horror e're embrace A man whose Sword has murther'd all my race And without wickedness a Husband hate For his brave Service to his Prince and State By death then Sir preserve me from the Crime Either of loving or not loving him In this extremity I shall embrace The heaviest sentence for the greatest grace I soon alas with this weak arm could do The thing for which I do so humbly sue But Death will be more welcome if thereby I may redeem my Husbands infamy If by my blood I may those Deities His severe vertue may have mov'd appease Atone Camilla's angry Ghost and save To Rome a man so fortunate and brave Horace the Father speaking to the King I that defence Sir then must undertake My Son and Daughter unconcern'd forsake They with Valerius side and are all three Combin'd together in conspiracy Against that little blood does yet remain From War and Ruine to restore my name Speaking to Sabina Thou who by fruitless sorrows which oppose The duty that a Wife the Husband owes Thy Husband would'st forsake and desperate Accompany thy Brothers in their Fate Go rather and consult their generous Ghosts 'T is true their lives by Horace hand they lost But 't was in Alba's quarrel that they dy'd And they in that are fully satisfi'd Since Heav'n destin'd Alba for a slave If there remain remembrance in the Grave They less repine at their mishap and wounds Being the glory unto us redounds Thy frantick sorrow they will all disclaim Thy sighs and tears will disapprove and blame And will condemn the horror thou putst on For such a Husband has so bravely done Sabina be their Sister try your tears And do your duty as they have done theirs Speaking to the King Valerius animates himself in vain Against this noble Hero to complain A sudden passion in the course of time Was never yet reputed for a Crime Rather than punishment it merits praise When vertue does that sudden passion raise To love even to Idolatry our foes And curse our Country for their overthrows These are call'd Crimes these the offences were He could not even in his Sister spare His love to Rome and her concerns alone Prompted his hand to execution Had not his Countries love tempted his spleen He at this instant innocent had been How strangely do I talk what was 't I meant To say he had been he is innocent Or Sir I had with my own hand e're this Punish'd the forfeit had he done amiss I should have made the sovereign pow'r known That Nature gives a Father o're his Son Sir I love honour nor can brook disgrace Much less a Crime unpunish'd in my Race pointing to Valerius Of which I only shall his witness need He can resolve you what my rage decreed When ign'rant yet of one half of the fight I thought Rome ruin'd in his shameful flight I wonder who bids him busie his cares About my private Family-affairs I wonder whence the priviledge he draws Without my leave to plead my Daughters cause Or by what right does he an int'rest claim Where I her
With such a constant brow as may declare How worthy of him you his Sister are And by your noble carriage make it good That in one Womb Heav'n form'd you of one Blood Scena Quarta Camilla Yes by assured signs I 'le make him see That vertuous Love can baffle Destiny Nor yet those tyr'nnous cruel laws obeys Our froward Stars seat in a Parents place Unpitying Father on so just a score Thou call'st my sorrows womanish and poor But I the more it does afflict thee will Dote on his memory more lament him still And make that sorrow thou condemn'st to rise Equal to fortunes direct cruelties Did ever fortune in a few hours space So often vary her inconstant face So often kind and cruel good and ill And strook so often e're she strook to kill Was ever soul that in one day did bear Such turns of joy and grief of hope and fear A soul subjected unto more events And bandied so with various accidents An Oracle a Dream a Battel Peace By turns assure astonish fright appease My Nuptials are prepar'd and straight my Love Against my Brothers Arms his Arms must prove Both Camps abhor the choice and stay their rage Whom the unpitying Gods again engage Rome seems o'recome and Curiace's hand From blood of mine alone remains unstain'd Was not my grief ye Powers then too small For Rome's misfortune and my Brothers fall Did not my hopes flatter my innocence When I thought still to love him no offence His death has paid me home for 't and to that The cruel way of telling me his fate His Rival brings the news and to my face Repeats the hateful truth of his disgrace Apparent joy doth on his forehead sit Pleas'd with my loss more than Romes benefit Whilst building aiery hopes in his vain head He with my Brother triumphs o're the dead But this is nothing still to what 's behind On this occasion I am joy enjoyn'd I must applaud the Conqueror's desert And kiss th' inhumane hand that gores my heart It is in such a deplorable case A crime to weep and but to sigh disgrace Their brutish vertue in this shock of fate Will have me fancy my self fortunate It is it seems a rule the vertuous have We must be barb'rous e're we can be brave Degenerate then my heart let us disclaim This Father's Vertue and this Brother's Fame 'T is honourable to be counted base Where Vertue rises by such brutish ways Break out my griefs 't is fruitless to forbear When all 's once lost what have we left to fear Let us this bloody Conqueror despise And far from shunning him confront his eyes Reproach his Victory provoke his Spleen And please your selves by your displeasing him See where he comes now let us bravely show What to a Lover's death chaste Lovers owe. Scena Quinta Horace Camilla Preculus and two Souldiers each bearing a Sword of the Curiatii Horace See Sister here the Arm that has on all The Alban Champions wreak'd our Brother's fall The Arm that with the froward Fates of Rome Single has fought and single overcome The Arm has conquer'd Alba and alone Betwixt two States struck the decision Behold the Trophies which these Romans bear These noble Ensigns of a Conqueror And pay the thanks thou ow'st those Pow'rs that bless The Roman Arms with such a fair success Camilla Then take my tears for these are all I owe. Horace Such actions should not be rewarded so And our brave Brother's noble fall appears Repaid with blood enough t' excuse your tears Losses reveng'd once to be losses cease Camilla Since then appeas'd with blood they rest in peace I shall forbear to pay that Fun'ral debt And will their deaths you have reveng'd forget But who 'l revenge me for a Lovers fall And dry those tears I pay his Funeral Horace What say'st thou wretch Camilla Ah my dear Curiace Horace Impudent woman and my bloods disgrace Does yet that name in thy remembrance live And in thy heart a love for him survive That as a publick enemy to Rome I to my deathless Glory have o'recome This criminal flame does to revenge aspire Thy mouth proclaims th' unnatural hearts desire Govern thy passion better and be wise Let me not blush to hear thy guilty sighs 'T is now high time to quench that flame and chace Those clouds of sorrow which obscure thy face That on my triumph it may smiling shine Camilla Give me a heart Barbarian then like thine And since thou wilt have me my soul explain Restore my Love or let my Passion reign My joy and grief were by his Fortune led Living I lov'd him and lament him dead Seek not thy Sister where thou leftst her last Thy cruelty that title has defac'd And having broke that bond I am become An injur'd Lover in a Sisters room Who like a fury on thy steps will wait To blast thee with reproaches for his fate Obdurate Tyger who forbid'st mine eyes Should pay their Tribute to his Obsequies Would'st have my tongue to flatter thee approve Boast and applaud the slaughter of my Love And to the Skies whilst thy exploits I rear Become a second time his murtherer May miseries consort that life of thine Till they increase that thou may'st envy mine And may'st thou by some act of horror blot The glory thy barbarity has got Horace Heav'n what a madness rages in her tongue Think'st thou I 'm grown insensible of wrong That this affront I suffer in my blood Approve his death makes for the publick good And to his memory prefer at least That which thy birth owes to Rome's interest Camilla Rome that alone does my affliction prove Rome to whom thou hast sacrific'd my Love Rome that first gave thee life that perfectly I hate because she does so honour thee May all her neighbours in one cause conspire To sack her Walls and ruine her by fire And if all Italy appear too few May East and West joyn in the mischief too Far as the frozen poles may Nations come O're Hills and Seas to sack imperious Rome May her own Walls o'rewhelm and bury her And may her own Hands her own Bowels tear May Heav'n to whose wrath I votress am Rain on her Bosom deluges of Flame May I behold a Lightning fall so just Her Buildings ashes and her Laurels dust May I of Heav'ns justice be so grac't To see the last of Romans breathe his last And lastly ye just Powers I desire I may be cause of all and pleas'd expire Horace drawing his Sword and pursuing her It is too much Patience a while give place Down into Hell to seek thy Curiace Camilla behind the Scene Oh Traytor Horace So may all offenders die That dare lament a Roman enemy Scena Sexta Horace Proculus Proculus What have you done Horace An exemplary act And a due justice for so foul a fact Proculus But to your Sister this was too severe Horace Never tell me how near ally'd we were My
To have a Daughter so degenerate And thee for having by misfortune dy'd Thy noble Sword in such a Parricide Not that I do thy heat or justice blame Yet I could wish thou hadst escap'd the shame Her crime though worthy death had better far Been spar'd than thou her executioner Horace My life and death Sir in your sentence lie I thought that blow due to Romes injury But if that zeal do criminal appear If I eternal brands of shame must wear And if my arm be infamous become With one sole word you may pronounce my doom Take back that blood which my unworthy hand Has by a coward act so basely stain'd I could not suffer in your vertuous Race A crime that might your noble name disgrace Nor should you with an over-partial eye Suffer this blemish in your Family In acts where honour suffers 't is discern'd That such a Father as you are's concern'd T' excuse ill Sons even Fathers should forbear Whilst they conceal our faults they faulty are And his own fame that Father little moves Who spares that guilt his vertue disapproves Horace the Father Fathers sometimes from harsh extreams forbear And often spare their Sons themselves to spare Our age leans on their youthful strength and spares Them since in them we must be sufferers I look upon thee with a diff'rent eye From that thou censur'st thine own vertue by And though thy reputation blemish'd stand I know but see the Guards the King 's at hand Scena Secunda Tullius Valerius Horace the Father and Guards Horace the Father Great Sir you do your Servant too much grace I blush to see you in so mean a place Permit me that in gratitude thus low Tullius No Father rise and let your merit know I pay in this the least of what is due From vertuous Princes to such men as you Such services pretend to all whate're Subjects can merit or their Kings confer Valerius word was past nor could I be Just to my self till I had set him free I heard from him nor did I doubt befreo With what a noble constancy you bore Your brave Sons deaths and know that to a soul So fortifi'd as yours so right and whole What comforts I could bring would only prove Unnecessary complements of Love But now that I have heard what a sad fate Does on your conqu'ring Sons brave valour wait And that his zeal to th' publick cause has led His sudden fury to commit a deed Deprives you of an onely Daughter then Whilst I consider the most brave are men I must confess I cannot choose but fear How your great heart so great a blow can bear Horace the Father Sir with a troubled but a patient sence Tullius A brave effect of your experience Many by living long have learnt to know That happiness is but a step to woe But few apply that knowledge to the best And most mens vertues truckle when opprest If in your King's compassion you can find A comfort to th' afflictions of your mind Believe it great as them and that I do With the same friendship love and pity you Valerius Since mighty Sir into the hands of Kings Heav'n delegates the Law to order things And that within their sacred power lies Reward for vertue punishment for vice Permit a loyal Subject in this case To prompt that justice your compassion stays And say you seem this murther to forget Whilst you lament and do not punish it Permit Horace the Father What! that Romes conquering Champion die And have his service paid with infamy Tullius Let him say on Horatio and forbear I who am to determine ought to hear And do not fear but I will do you right It is at once my duty and delight When justice even and unbiass'd flows She then a Monarch for a Monarch shows Divinity shines round about him then Above the common race of common men And that which makes me most commiserate The wretched fortune of your sad estate Is to hear justice clamour'd on your Son Who has for Rome so brave a service done Valerius Permit then justest Monarch that in me All vertuous men appeal for equity 'T is not alas that our repining hearts Envy those honours crown his brave deserts All you can give short of his merit fall His glorious actions shine above them all Add new and greater still to those before We all are willing to contribute more But let him since he could obscure his fame By such an act of horror and of shame At once for merit and a crime so high A Victor triumph an Offender dye Check his wild rage and rescue those remain Of Romes brave off-spring if you mean to reign Your peoples ruine or their safety lies Or in his Pardon or his Sacrifice Few Romans ever could in Alba boast Of Alba's loss but they in Alba lost Some such relation as might force their eyes To private tears in publick Victories If such a vertuous sorrow then become Criminal to the interest of Rome If his success oblige you to dispence And priviledge so great an insolence Who will this barbarous Conquerour forbear Whose fury would not his own Sister spare Nor yet excuse the sorrow all approve In a chaste Virgin ravish'd of her Love Rome though she triumphs is Horatio's slave He has the sovereign Pow'r to kill or save Nor have we now a longer time to live Than as he 's pleas'd to sentence or forgive I could to Romes concernment add how base Mean and below a man the action was I could demand to have the murther'd Maid His Valours triumph in your presence laid You then would see the yet warm Crimson rise And blushing blame a Brother's cruelties So sad a sight no Advocate would need Her Youth and Beauty would for justice plead But I abhor in such a case as this All ways that bear a shew of Artifice To morrow you have set apart to pay Your Vows to Heav'n for this victorious day And can you think those Deities that bear Thunder t' avenge the innocent sufferer Will deign t' accept of Incense from a hand In a black Parricide so lately stain'd So great a Sacriledge would draw on you The vengeance that to him alone is due Look on him then as one whom Heav'n does hate And that wherein he has been fortunate Romes stars have more by their own influence done Than by the Valour of their Champion Since the same Gods who did his Conquest crown Permit him thus to blemish his renown And in one day after exploits so high To claim a Triumph and deserve to dye This Sir is that your judgment must decide Rome here has suffer'd the first Parricide The consequence and Heaven's displeasure are The things Religion teaches us to fear Preserve your people from his insolence And appease Heav'n by cens'ring his offence Tullius Horace make your defence Horace Sir to what end Should I an act you know so well defend Your judgment 's Law though it
Father unoffended am But 't is objected as a politick care That others may the like misfortune share Sir we are only jealous of the shame That in particular concerns our name And letting others infamies alone Do only bash at those which are our own Turning to Valerius Thou may'st Valerius weep before his face He 's only angry at the Crimes on 's Race None save those of his blood can blast those boughs Of living Laurel that adorn his brows Ye sacred wreaths that Envy wishes dead You who from thunder have secur'd his head Will you that sacred head abandon now Unto a despicable Hangman's blow Will ye O Romans on a day like this See and permit the bloody Sacrifice Of that victorious Champion but for whom And his brave Valour Rome had been no Rome And suffer here a Roman to defame With accusations his illustrious name Valerius say where would'st thou have him dye What Scene is proper for his Tragedy Within these Walls where still the people raise High Acclamations to his Valours praise Or in the Camp yet fuming with a flood Of the late conquer'd Curiatiis blood Or else amongst the Alban Heroes Tombs Sure that place worst the Tragedy becomes That honourable Field that witnesses At once his prowess and our brave success Thou canst not possibly choose out a place To be the Theatre of his disgrace Wherein his noble conquests will not rise In glory to reproach your cruelties The Camp the Lists within without the Town All places eccho with his high renown All things oppose and all men disapprove The vain attempts of thy unjuster Love That would with blood so Roman and so pure The glory of so bright a day obscure Alba her self that object cannot see And Rome with tears will stay that Tragedy Speaking to the King But Sir your justice will prevent that doom You understand the interests of Rome What he has done he yet may do again And once more may her liberty maintain Give nothing to my Age Sir in this case To day I Father of four Children was Of which three in Rome's Quarrels buried are One I have left reserve him Sir for her Rob not this City by his Sacrifice Of that defence which in his Valour lies And give me your permission that I may Direct to him what I have left to say Speaking to Horace Horatio do not think the common bruit Can raise or lessen a brave man's repute The rabble ever do delight in noise But in a trice change their inconstant voice And the renown they give us bears no date But perishes as illegitimate It is for Kings great ones for souls that are Advanc'd above the common pitch by far To censure vertue to discern and know The noble spirits from the mean and low From them alone a true renown proceeds And they alone record illustrious deeds Do always like thy self thy glory then Shall live and flourish amongst worthy men Although a less occasion may perchance Abuse short-sighted vulgar ignorance Abhor thy life no more but live at least For mine thy Kings and Countries interest Live Romes opposers bravely to oppose And fight her Battels with the bravest foes Sir I have said too much though the affair May well excuse a Father in his care I have pronounc'd the general sence of Rome And now expecting stay your final doom Valerius Sir give me leave Tullius Valerius no more I yet retain all you have said before And have consider'd every circumstance Reason and word that serves to prove th' offence This bloody fact committed in despight Of Law and Justice almost in our sight Violates Nature nay doth higher rise With humane rage to wound the Deities And sudden passions that such crimes produce For facts like this are but a weak excuse Our most indulgent Laws herein speak high And by their censure he deserves to die If by another way and less severe We do consider the offender here His crime though inexcusable proceeds From the same Sword and Arm have done those deeds By whose effects Rome bravely overcame And I a King of two great people am The double Crown on Romes Imperial Head In favour of his life does highly plead But for his Valour I who now do sway A two-fold Scepter had been forc'd t' obey And where I sit a double Monarch Crown'd Had been a Captive made subdu'd and bound Many good Subjects in their Countries Wars Can only serve their Princes by their pray'rs All men may love their Kings but every one Cannot secure their States as he has done The art and power to establish Thrones Are vertues Heaven gives few private ones Such Servants are the Nerves and strength of Kings The Props of Kingdoms and the glorious things They do and suffer in their Countries Cause Seats them above the censure of the Laws Let them be silent then and here let Rome Forbear to utter an ungrateful doom On an offence she saw before when yet She had no name her Romulus commit In her Deliverer she may forbear The fault she could in her rash Founder spare Live then brave Souldier spirit too sublime Thy vertue sets thy glory 'bove thy Crime Since generosity th' offence did make Th' effect we pardon for the causes sake Live to thy Countries noblest bravest ends But I must have you and Valerius friends And in a friendship such as shall permit Fury nor malice to extinguish it And whether love or obligation were The motives made him prosecute you here Of what is past no memory retain But reconcile him to your love again And sweet Sabina let your great heart chase These marks of frailty from your lovely face You can their Sister you lament express In nothing more than in lamenting less But we to morrow set apart to pay Thanks to the Gods for this victorious day And Heaven would with an averted face Receive our Vows and would withdraw his grace Should not our Priests e're we begin take care To purifie th' unhappy Conqueror Be that his Fathers task he may with ease At the same time Camilla's Ghost appease I pity her and wish her soul may have What satisfaction can be in the Grave Since in one day one zeal's ungovern'd heat Did her brave Lovers and her Fate compleat The day that saw them dye e're hence he goes Shall see one Monument their Corps enclose The King rises and all follow him except Julia. Scena Quarta Iulia. Heav'n sweet Camilla did foretell The Tragical event drew nigh But did the secret part conceal From the most piercing Judgment 's eye It seem'd to speak of Nuptial Joys It seem'd to sooth thy innocence And did thy Death the while disguise Deluding our intelligence Alba and Rome to morrow shall surcease Their Iars thy Vows are heard they shall have peace And thou be joyn'd to Curiace in a tie Never to be dissolv'd by Destiny SONG 1. HOw frailty makes us to our wrong Fear and be loth to dye When Life is only dying long And Death the remedy We shun eternity And still would grovel here beneath Though still in woe and strife When Life 's the path that leads to Death And Death the door to Life 2. The Fear of Death is the disease Makes the poor patient smart Vain apprehensions often freeze The vitals in the heart Without the dreaded Dart. When fury rides on pointed steel Deaths fear the heart doth seize Whilst in that very fear we feel A greater sting than his 3. But chaste Camilla's vertuous fear Was of a nobler kind Not of her end approaching near But to be left behind From her dear Love disjoyn'd When Death in courtesie decreed To make the fair his prize And by one cruelty her freed From humane cruelties CHORVS Thus Heav'n does his will disguise To scourge our curiosities When too inquisitive we grow Of what we are forbid to know Fond humane nature that will try To sound th' Abiss of Destiny Alas what profit can arise From those forbidden scrutinies When Oracles what they foretel In such Aenigma's still conceal That self-indulging man still makes Of deepest truths most sad mistakes Or could our frailty comprehend The reach those riddles do intend What boots it us when we have done To foresee ills we cannot shun But 't is in man a vain pretence To know or prophesie events Which only execute and move By a dependence from above 'T is all imposture to deceive The foolish and inquisitive Since none foresee what shall befal But Providence that governs all Reason wherewith kind Heav'n has blest His creature man above the rest Will teach humanity to know All that it should aspire unto And whatsoever fool relies On false deceiving prophesies Striving by conduct to evade The harms they threaten or perswade Too frequently himself does run Into the danger he would shun And pulls upon himself the woe Fate meant he should much later know By such delusions vertue strays Out of those honourable ways That lead unto that glorious end To which the noble ever bend Whereas if vertue were the guide Mens minds would then be fortifi'd With constancy that would declare Against supineness and despair We should events with patience wait And nor despise nor fear our Fate The end of the Fifth and last Act. FINIS A Catalogue of some Books Printed for Henry Brome since the dreadful Fire in London THE History of the Life of the Duke of Espernon the great Favourite of France wherein the History of France is continued from 1598. where D' Avila leaves off down to our times 1642. in folio price 16 s. Scarronnides or Virgil Travestie a Mock-Poem on the first and 4th Book of Virgil in English Burlesque price 1 s. 6. d. Both by Charles Cotton Esquire Elvira a Comedy or the worst not always true by the Earl of Bristol price 1 s. Mr. Simpsons Division Viol in folio price 8 s. His Compendium of Practical Musick octavo price bound 2 s. Erasmus Colloquies in English price 5 s. A Treatise wherein is demonstrated that the Church and State of England are in equal danger with the Trade in quarto price I s. 6 d. By Roger Coke Esquire Bromes Songs and Poems in octavo price 3 s. His Translation of Horace with other worthy Persons price 4 s. The Gentleman Apothecary being a late and true Story turned out of French price 6 d.
make so ill Allies Or if ambition of vain Rule alarm These noble Troops of yours and ours to arm Yet if a little blood may purchase peace That blood shall piece us and the War shall cease Let each side choose some Champions out and tye Their Fortunes to those Champions Destiny And as in them Fate shall dispose the day The Vanquisht shall the Vanquisher obey But so as Souldiers honours may befit To bow as Subjects not as Slaves submit Without disgrace tribute or other terms Save always to assist the Conquerours Arms. So of two States we shall one Empire make This said each breast joys palpitations shake Now whilst they face each can a Brother spy Kinsman or Friend rank'd with the Enemy They wonder now 't was not before foreseen How foul their parricides must needs have been And shew at once in one distracted brow How much the fair proposal they allow And how with horror now they disapprove All thoughts of Battel after thoughts of Love Th' offer 's at last receiv'd and the wisht Peace As soon was sworn to the Conditions these Three for the whole the Combat must assay Chosen from either side and that they may With better conduct to the choice proceed The Generals are on a short truce agreed Yours in the Senate is ours in his Tent. Camilla Blest Gods ye have a timely succour sent Curiace By joynt decree within two short-liv'd hours Our Champions Fortune must determine ours Mean while in freedom we expect the doom Rome in our Camp is and our Camp in Rome Free entercourse on both sides granted is Both sides seek friends amongst their enemies I hither have follow'd your Brothers in And Fortune to my vows so just has bin That he who gave my fair Camilla life Says she to morrow shall be made my Wife And you I hope will not recede from this Camilla Obedience still a Daughters duty is Curiace Come then my Sweet and from this mouth receive That fair consent he is so free to give That dear command which once pronounc'd will bless My love with title to my happiness Camilla I go along with you to welcome home My noble Brother's safe return to Rome And once again to hear the happy news Confirm'd by them of this auspicious truce Iulia. Go and the while I 'le on the Altars raise In your behalf a Sacrifice of praise SONG 1. SO wretched are the sick of Love No Herb has vertue to remove The growing ill But still The more we Remedies oppose The Fever more malignant grows Doubts do but add unto desire Like Oyl that 's thrown upon the fire Which serves to make the flame aspire And not t' extinguish it Love has its trembling and its burning fit 2. Fruition which the Sick propose To end and recompence their woes But turns them o're To more And curing one does but prepare A new perhaps a greater care Enjoyment even in the chaste Pleases not satisfies the taste And licens'd Love the worst can fast Such is the Lovers state Pining and pleas'd alike unfortunate 3. Sabina and Camilla share An equal interest in care Fear hath each brest Possest In different Fortunes one pure flame Makes their unhappiness the same Love begets fear fear grief creates Passion still passion animates Love will be love in all estates His power still is one Whether in hope or in possession CHORVS TOO weak are humane eyes to pry Into the shades of Destiny Fate spreads a curtain to our sight Through which a faint imperfect light Serves only to perplex our way As blinking Meteors make us stray And what the jugling Priest foretells In his ambiguous Oracles Deludes our judgments whilst he shrouds Vain riddles in mysterious clouds Wisely did providence deny To humane curiosity That only priviledge to look In Destinies eternal Book For should we know our periods then We should do more or less then men Ah poor Camilla how art thou Exalted in thy fortune now Whom Fate so soon will headlong throw Into a precipice of woe Betray'd by Riddles and Loves charms Thou dream'st thy self in Curiace arms Wrapt in chast pleasures when alas Thou only must could death embrace To vertue sure 't was an offence So to abuse thy innocence And to raise up thy hope so high Was an inhumane cruelty We to our selves ev'n in our fears Are flattering interpreters And need no fraud when Death 's so nigh To rock us in security What could the angry powers move In fair Camilla's vertuous Love Or what hath chaste Sabina done To draw so dire a ruine on Vain men misled by vitious wills Commit those Heav'n-offending ills Which pull down vengeance from the sky To punish proud mortality But what ye Gods can women do Soft women to provoke you so It is for Rome that they must be Involv'd in Alba's Destiny Proud Rome for prouder Empire tries And laid in blood by blood must rise Alba must truckle 't is decreed That Rome may triumph she must bleed Imperious Fate will bear the sway Whose power all earthly powers obey The End of the First Act. Actus Secundus Scena Prima Horace Curiace Curiace I See your merits sway the publick voice Rome durst rely upon no other choice Unto your Valours this proud Town alone Dares trust her cause and reputation And whilst she only on your Arms relies With one sole House braves all our Families We shall believe since you the weight must bear Save Horace Sons that there no Romans are This choice three Houses might have rais'd to fame Have giv'n each a high and glorious name And that Renown which yours alone must be Had been enough to have eterniz'd three Nor can I since by Fortune and my flame I in your House so interested am But I must share as much as in me lies Your Fam'lies glory in this enterprize Yet the respect I to my Country bear Mixes that pleasure with an honest fear The War has rais'd your name unto that height I fear for Alba and foresee her fate Since you must fight her interest must bow Fate has in choosing you determin'd so It is decreed I see you must o'recome And I conclude my self a slave to Rome Horace You should Rome pity not for Alba fear In her ill choice did you consider her In Rome it doubtless a great blindness is To have such choice and choose so far amiss Of her brave Sons a thousand worthier be So brave a quarrel to maintain than we Yet though the Combat promise me a Shroud That I am chosen makes me justly proud And the assurance of my soul is such As from my little Valour hopes for much Nor can I be what will th' intent of Fate Conclude my self a slave to Alba yet Rome has o'revalu'd my desert but I Will amply justifie it all or dye who 'l dye or conquer seldom conquer'd is That brave despair but rarely perishes Rome fall what will shall never subject bow Till my last groans
just Strike through the Sister at the Brother's life And wound the Husband whilst you kill the Wife Begin ye Tigers in this life of mine The Sacrifice you in your own design You in this famous combat must become A foe to Alba you a foe to Rome But I oblig'd by Birth and by my flame Unto them both an adversary am And must I be reserv'd only to see The triumph of a hateful Victory A triumph where the Blood I prize so dear Must trim the Laurels of the Triumpher Can I betwixt you then govern my heart And play at once a Wifes and Sisters part And whilst my soul the Conquest does abhor With open arms imbrace the Conqueror No e're that happen Death shall close these eyes From triumphs mixt with my Friends Obsequies My ruine shall prevent it and what you Withdraw your hands from my own hands shall do Go on then Monsters who your rage withstands I shall find means enough to force your hands Which shall no sooner be prepar'd to kill But with this brest I 'le intercept your Steel And though you now deny me force your blows To send my soul unto its wisht repose Horace Dear Wife Curiace Dear Sister Camilla Courage you prevail Sabina Your bosoms groan forth sighs your cheeks grow pale What frights you thus are these the men on whom The stakes are laid of Alba and of Rome Horace Wherein Sabina have I done amiss That can deserve such a revenge as this How has my Honour injur'd thee that thou With all thy power assault'st my vertue so To have astonish'd me let it suffice And let me finish this brave enterprize Thy love has rais'd a conflict in my brest But Wife insult not in the pow'r thou hast Go strive no more for conquest 't is to me T' have suffer'd this debate an infamy Permit me that I may with honour dye Sabina You need not fear your succours are so nigh Scena Septima Horace the Father Horace Curiace Sabina Camilla Horace the Father Is this a time in Love parleys to spend When Rome and Alba do your Arms attend When Blood should weep do you converse with tears Go leave these Women to their womens fears Their griefs my Sons too subtil are for you And by contagion will your hearts subdue Nor can you but by flight evade their powers Sabina Doubt them not Sir they 'r worthy to be yours And slighting all our prayers resolv'd prepare For acts becoming him whose Sons they are But if our tears have soft'ned them we do Thus give you scope to fortifie them new Come Sister let us go we weep in vain Tears are too weak to tonquer bruitish man To our sole refuge black despair we fly Go Tygers then and fight whilst we go die Scena Octava Horace the Father Horace Curiace Horace Confine Sir I beseech you to the House These foolish Women that they break not loose For if they should their over-fondness might With cries and tears perhaps disturb our fight And make the cens'ring world believe that we Our selves were of the vile conspiracy This honour we should purchase then too dear If once suspected of so base a fear Horace the Father Leave that to me and go your Brothers stay And now your duty to your Countries pay Curiace How should I part or in what method take Horace the Father Ah! do not tempt my grief for vertues sake My voice wants terms t'enflame your noble brest And with perplexed thoughts my heart 's opprest My tears swell up to force their tender gates Do your devoire and leave th' event to fates SONG 1. TO Arms to Arms the Heroes cry A glorious Death or Victory Beauty and Love although combin'd And each so powerful alone Cannot prevail against a mind bound up in resolution Tears their weak influence vainly prove Nothing the daring breast can move Honour is blind and deaf ev'n deaf to love 2. The Field the Field where Valour bleeds Spurn'd into dust by barbed steeds Instead of wanton Beds of Down Is now the Scene where they must try To overthrow or be o'rethrown Bravely to overcome or dye Honour in her interest sits above What Beauty Prayers or tears can move Were there no Honour there would be no Love CHORVS HOw prone are people tir'd with Peace To nauseate their happiness And headlong into mischief run To feed their foul ambition Leasure and Luxury when met In populous Cities do beget That Monster War which at the first In little private discords nurst Grows higher by degrees until Having got power to his will He brake into a general flame Beyond what Politie can tame No int'rest then escapeth feer From insolence and cruelty And facts that flow from brutish lust The titles wear of great and just Nay when Wars ensigns are display'd It is Religion to invade No matter whom nor what the cause Nor is there room for other Laws Than what the Victor will on those His riots have subdu'd impose Yet there have still pretences been The vilest practices to skreen There never wanted a pretence To violate suff'ring innocence Though whatsoever men pretend Wealth and Dominion are their end Imperious Rome must Alba feel The edge of thy invading Steel Alba thy Mother from whose womb Thy Founder Romulus did come Or if thou tak'st an impious pride To be esteem'd a Parricide Can nothing satiate thy will Vnless that Brothers Brothers kill Deluded Heroes how they fly To meet a cruel Destiny And sacrifice themselves to Fame A nothing a meer airy name When in th' unnatural contests Who conquer'd falls is happiest 'T is Tyrant Honour unto thee We owe this bloody Tragedy Whom but the vertuous none obey And being so become thy prey They see in thy deluding glass Trophies and Triumphs when alas 'T is their own blood they haste to shed And live but to lament the Dead Deaf unto Piety and Love The Combatants are gone to prove Themselves true Patriots when they are The instruments of Civil War And hazard in a Combat more Than in a Battel heretofore Fate holds the balance whilst they fight And finds both scales of equal weight Valour with Valour even weighs Honour with Honour Praise with Praise But when she lays upon the beam Her partial hand and varies them Then one scale gets it whilst on high The other kicks and knocks the Sky The end of the Second Act. Actus Tertius Scena Prima Sabina LEt us at last my troubled Soul appease These inward mutinies disturb our peace And stand no longer neuter in this War But or for Alba or for Rome declare Let us no more divide our fruitless care But nourish hope to overcome despair Yet to which side alas should we adhere Where both the interests equally are dear Alas which party cleave to which refuse Or 'twixt a Brother and a Husband choose Nature or Love for either side do plead And I by duty unto both am led Then let us rather in this fatal
Father scorns to own a child so base Curses her Country and disclaims her Race All ties of Love are forfeited and gone And she is stript of all Relation Her nearest Kindred cannot but disclaim A beast that brands her Family with shame The promptest vengeance and most cruel must For such a Crime as hers be stil'd most just And those her impious whishes ought to be Stifled like Monsters in their infancy Scena Septima Horace Sabina Proculus Sabina Why stops thy noble fury here Come nigh See in her Fathers arms Camilla dye Come glut thine eyes with the alluring sight And if thou think'st what 's done be yet too light To thy dear Rome offer the blood remains O' th' Curiatii in Sabina's veins Never spare theirs whilst of thine own so free But to Camilla's joyn my destiny Our crimes as well as miseries are one Like her my Brother's slaughter I bemoan Transgressing more thy cruel Laws then she She only wept for one but I for three To give thy fury a more just pretence Horace Sabina dry your tears or get you hence Render thy self worthy Horatio's Wife And that repute thy chaste and vertuous life Has from mankind as thy just merit won And wound me not with mean compassion If th'absolute int'rest of a vertuous flame Commands our hearts and souls to be the same It is thy part to raise thy heart to mine I ought not to thy weaknesses decline I love thee and I know thy soul 's grown sad Call in my vertue to thy frailties aid Instead of clouding it my glory share And without stripping me my triumphs wear Art thou so great a foe unto my fame That I should please thee better clad in shame Discover now the vertue of that flame That seats a Husband in his sov'reign claim Above th' inferiour interest of blood And learn by my example to be good Sabina Some nobler soul to imitate you choose I blame thee not alas for what I lose My thoughts are govern'd as they ought to be And I do rather blame mischance than thee But I all claim to Roman Vertue quit If inhumanity must purchase it Nor can I in my own esteem appear Wife unto him who is the Conquerour But that at once I see my self again The deplorable Sister of the slain Let us in publick publick Conquests own Lament domestick miseries at home And not regard a good derives to all When on our selves peculiar mischiefs fall Why cruel man dost thou those Trophies wear Lay by those Laurels when thou enter'st here And joyn with me in tears Will not this raise Thy vertues spleen to end my wretched days Can my repeated crime not move thine ire Camilla's blest could raise thy furies fire She tempted from thee what she wisht for most And finds below all that above she lost Dear cause of all the woes my heart oppress Incline to pity if thine anger cease One of the passions to thy choice propose To scourge my frailty or to end my woes For death by favour or desert I move Be 't an effect of Justice or of Love It shall be welcome and I 'le kiss the brand Performs that office from a Husband's hand Horace You are unjust you Gods why do you give Imperious women this prerogative O're noble souls and pleas'd sit looking on Whilst they insult in their dominion To what a strait am I reduc'd when I To save my vertue am enforc'd to fly Farewel follow me not or dry your tears Sabina Oh wrath O pity deaf unto my prayr's My crime I see 's neglected and my woe Does in the repetition tedious grow Thus though I tempt his spirit various ways I can obtain nor punishment nor grace But once again my tears their pow'r shall try And if that fail by my own hand I 'le die SONG 1. THe young the fair the chaste the good The sweet Camilla in a flood Of her own Crimson lies A bloody bloody sacrifice To Death and man's inhumane cruelties Weep Virgins till your sorrow swells In tears above the Ivory Cells That guard those Globes of light Drown drown those beauties of your eyes Beauty should mourn when beauty dies And make a general night To pay her innocence its Funeral rite 2. Death since his Empire first begun So foul a conquest never won Nor yet so fair a prize And had he had a heart or eyes Her beauties would have charm'd his cruelties Even Savage Beasts will Beauty spare Chaft Lions fawn upon the fair Nor dare offend the chaste But vitious man that sees and knows The mischiefs his wild fury does Humours his passions haste To prove ungovern'd man the greatest beast CHORVS Rome thou hast bought thy Triumph dear And like a greedy purchaser Hast laid a greater treasure forth Than Alba's fealty is worth What hast thou won that can make good The two Horatii's lavish'd blood Or who are left fit to supply The noble Curiatii You now may with confederate Arms Invade your Borderers in swarms And think like two united Seas T' o'reflow your neighb'ring Provinces And for new Conquests may prepare When you are weaker than you were Too brave Horatio thou hadst won Glory to have out-dar'd the Sun And live a President in Rome To vertue ages yet to come But this last act of thine has thrown So black a cloud o're thy renown That future times at once must see Thy Valour and thy Cruelty Thus as the Sun does climb the skies He still in brighter Beams doth rise Till in his full Meridian plac't His glories thence decline as fast So men by dangerous degrees Arriv'd at honours precipice Striving ambitiously to get To brighter stations higher yet There wanting footing for their pride They topple on the other side And in one act do forfeit more Than all they had atchiev'd before Were Love and Piety such crimes In these so celebrated times That Fury must in Iustice stead Level the mourners with the dead Must charming beauty at whose feet Valour its conquests should submit That Sex that priviledg'd should be Even from inhumanity Th' effects of brutish fury feel Thy vertues sweet Camilla still Do in thy ev'ning brighter rise To baffle humane cruelties And bravest Heroes when they shall This great example of thy fall In the worlds brightest Annals see Even they themselves shall envy thee The end of the Fourth Act. Actus Quintus Scena Prima Horace the Father Horace Horace the Father LEt us from this sad spectacle retire Heav'ns never-sleeping justice to admire Which when we swell to insolence knows how To scourge our pride and lay our glories low Heav'n sorrow ever with our joy combines Sows seeds of frailty in the noblest minds And seldom does our bravest actions crown With an unblemish'd and a true renown Camilla did offend nor do I wear These clouds of sorrow in my face for her I think my self to be lamented more And more than her alas I thee deplore I do bewail my own sinister fate