Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Val. Gentle lady,

The scene was piteous, though its end be peace. Horatia. Peace? O, my fluttering heart! by what kind means?

Val. "Twere tedious, lady, and unnecessary, To paint the disposition of the field; Suffice it, we were armed, and front to front The adverse legions heard the trumpet's sound: But vain was the alarm, for motionless,

And wrapt in thought, they stood; the kindred ranks

Had caught each other's eyes, nor dared to lift
The faultering spear against the breast they loved.
Again the alarm was given, and now they seemed
Preparing to engage, when once again
They hung their drooping heads, and inward
mourned;

Then nearer drew, and at the third alarm,
Casting their swords and useless shields aside,
Rushed to each other's arms.

Hor. "Twas so, just so,

(Though I was then a child, yet I have heard
My mother, weeping, oft relate the story)
Soft pity touched the breasts of mighty chiefs,
Romans and Sabines, when the matrons rushed
Between their meeting armies, and opposed
Their helpless infants, and their heaving breasts,
To their advancing swords, and bade them there
Sheath all their vengeance.-

you

Blessed be the friendly grief that touched their souls!

Blessed be Hostilius for the generous counsel! Blessed be the meeting chiefs! and blessed the tongue,

Which brings the gentle tidings!

Valeria. Now, Horatia,

Your idle fears are o'er.

Horatia. Yet one remains.

Who are the champions? Are they yet elected? Has Rome

Val. The Roman chiefs now meet in council, And ask the presence of the sage Horatius.

Hor. [After having seemed some time in thought.
But still, methinks, I like not this, to trust
The Roman cause to such a slender hazard—
Three combatants !-'tis dangerous-

Horatia. [In a fright.] My father!
Hor. I might, perhaps, prevent it-
Horatia. Do not, sir,
Oppose the kind decree!

Val. Rest satisfied,

Sweet lady! 'tis so solemnly agreed to,
Not even Horatius's advice can shake it.

Hor. And yet 'twere well to end these civil
broils:

The neighbouring states might take advantage of them.

-But I interrupt-Would I were young again! How glorious Were death in such a cause!-And yet, who knows

Proceed, Valerius, they would hear the event.
-And yet, methinks, the Albans-pray go on.
Val. Our king Hostilius, from a rising mound,
Beheld the tender interview, and joined
His friendly tears with theirs; then swift advan-
ced,

Even to the thickest press, and cried, 'My friends,
If thus we love, why are we enemies?
Shall stern ambition, rivalship of power,
Subdue the soft humanity within us?
Are we not joined by every tie of kindred?
And can we find no method to compose
These jars of honour, these nice principles
"Of virtue, which infest the noblest minds?'
Hor. There spoke his country's father! this
transcends

[ocr errors]

The flight of earth-born kings, whose low ambi

tion

But tends to lay the face of nature waste,
And blast creation !-How was it received?

Val. As he himself could wish, with eager transport.

In short, the Roman and the Alban chiefs
In council have determined, that since glory
Must have her victims, and each rival state,
Aspiring to dominion, scorns to yield,
From either army shall be chose three champions,
To fight the cause alone, and whate'er state
Shall prove superior, there acknowledged power
Shall fix the imperial seat, and both unite
Beneath one common head.

Horatia. Kind Heaven, I thank thee!
VOL. I.

[blocks in formation]

This is your home, I find: your lovely friend, And you, I doubt not, have indulged strange fears, And run o'er all the horrid scenes of war?

Valeria. Though we are women, brother, we are Romans,

Not to be scared with shadows, though not proof 'Gainst all alarms, when real danger threatens. Horatia. [With some hesitation.] My brothers, gentle sir, you said were well. you their noble friends, the Curiatii? The truce, perhaps, permitted it. Val. Yes, lady,

Saw

I left them jocund in your brothers' tent,
Like friends, whom envious storms awhile had

parted,

Joying to meet again.

4 E

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

me;

While war continued, I had gleams of hope;
Some lucky chance might rid me of my rival,
And time efface his image in her breast.
But now

Valeria. Yes, now you must resolve to follow The advice I gave you first, and root this passion Entirely from your heart; for know, she doats, Even to distraction doats on Curiatius;

And every fear she felt, while danger threatened,

Will now endear him more.

Val. Cruel Valeria,

You triumph in my pain!

Valeria. By Heaven, I do not;

I only would extirpate every thought
Which gives you pain, nor leave one foolish wish
For hope to dally with. When friends are mad,
'Tis most unkind to humour their distraction;
Harsh means are necessary.

Val. Yet we first

Should try the gentler.

Valeria. Did I not? Ye powers!

[ocr errors][ocr errors]

Did I not soothe your griefs, indulge your fond

ness,

While the least prospect of success remained?
Did I not press you still to urge your suit,
Intreat you daily to declare your passion,
Seek out unnumbered opportunities,
And lay the follies of my sex before you?
Val. Alas! thou knowest, Valeria, woman's
heart

Was never won by tales of bleeding love :
'Tis by degrees the sly enchanter works,
Assuming friendship's name, and fits the soul
For soft impressions, ere the faultering tongue,
And guilty-blushing cheek, with many a glance
Shot inadvertent, tells the secret flame.

Valeria. True, these are arts for those that
love at leisure;

You had no time for tedious stratagem;
A dangerous rival pressed, and has succeeded.
Val. I own my error-yet once more assist

[blocks in formation]

'Tis not impossible—divide their hearts, I might, perhaps, have hope: therefore 'till marriage

Cuts off all commerce, and confirms me wretched,

Be it thy task, my sister, with fond stories,
Such as our ties of blood may countenance,
To paint thy brother's worth, his power in arms,
His favour with the king, but most of all,
That certain tenderness of soul which steals
All women's hearts; then mention many a fair,
No matter whom, that sighs to call you sister.
Valeria. Well, well, away-Yet tell me, ere
you go,

How did this lover talk of his Horatia?

Val. Why will you mention that ungrateful subject?

Think what you've heard me breathe a thousand times,

When my whole soul dissolved in tenderness;
Twas rapture all; what lovers only feel,
Or can express when felt. He had been here,
But sudden orders from the camp detained him,
Farewell, Horatius waits me-but remember,
My life, nay, more than life, depends on you.

Exit.

[blocks in formation]

ACT II.

SCENE I-Continues.

Enter HORATIA and VALERIA.

Horatia. ALAS, how easily do we admit The thing we wish were true! yet sure, Valeria, This seeming negligence of Curiatius Betrays a secret coldness at the heart.

May not long absence, or the charms of war, Have damped, at least, if not effaced his passion? I know not what to think.

Valeria. Think, my Horatia,

That you're a lover, and have learned the art
To raise vain scruples, and torment yourself
With every distant hint of fancied ill.
Your Curiatius still remains the same.
My brother idly trifled with your passion,
Or might, perhaps, unheedingly relate
What you too nearly feel. But see, your father.
Horatia. He seems transported; sure some
happy news

Has brought him back thus early. Oh, my heart!
I long, yet dread to ask him. Speak, Valeria.
Enter HORATIUS.

Valeria. You're soon returned, my lord.
Hor. Returned, Valeria!

My life, my youth's returned; I tread in air!
-I cannot speak; my joy's too great for utter-

[blocks in formation]

The dear defence, the guardian gods of Rome!By Heaven, thou stand'st unmoved, nor feels thy breast

The charms of glory, the extatic warmth, Which beams new life, and lifts us nearer Heaven!

Horatia. My gracious father, with surprize and

transport

I heard the tidings, as becomes your daughter.
And like your daughter, were our sex allowed
The noble privilege which man usurps,
Could die with pleasure in my country's cause.
But yet, permit a sister's weakness, sir,
To feel the pangs of nature, and to dread
The fate of those she loves, however glorious.
And sure they cannot all survive a conflict
So desperate as this.

Hor. Survive! By Heaven,

I could not hope that they should all survive.
No; let them fall. If from their glorious deaths
Rome's freedom spring, I shall be nobly paid
For every sharpest pang the parent feels.
Had I a thousand sons, in such a cause
I could behold them bleeding at my feet,
And thank the gods with tears!

Enter PUBLIUS HORATIUS,

[Offering to kneel.

Pub. My father! Hor. Hence! Kneel not to me-stand off; and let me view At distance, and with reverential awe, The champion of my country!-Oh, my boy! That I should live to this-my soul's too full; Let this and this speak for me. Bless thee, bless thee! [Embracing him.

But wherefore art thou absent from the camp? Where are thy brothers? Has the Alban state Determined? Is the time of combat fixed?

Pub. Think not, my lord, that filial reverence, However due, had drawn me from the field, Where nobler duty calls; a patriot's soul Can feel no humbler ties, nor knows the voice Of kindred, when his country claims his aid. It was the king's command I should attend you, Else had I staid till wreaths immortal graced My brows, and made thee proud indeed to see Bencath thy roof, and bending for thy blessing, Not thine, Horatius, but the son of Rome!

Hor. Oh, virtuous pride!-'tis bliss too exquisite

For human sense !-thus, let me answer thee. [Embracing him again.

Where are my other boys?

Pub. They only wait Till Alba's loitering chiefs declare her champions, Our future victims, sir, and with the news Will greet their father's ear.

Hor. It shall not need ;

Myself will to the field. Come, let us haste!

[blocks in formation]

He with impatience waits the lucky moment,
That may with honour bear him to your arms.
Didst thou but hear how tenderly he talks,
How blames the dull delay of Alban councils,
And chides the lingering minutes as they pass,
Till fate determines, and the tedious chief's
Permit his absence, thou wouldst pity him.
But soon, my sister, soon shall every bar,
Which thwarts thy happiness, be far away.
We are no longer enemies to Alba;
This day unites us, and to-morrow's sun
May hear my vows, and make my friend my
ther.

bro

Hor. [Having talked apart with Valeria.] Tis truly Roman. Here's a maid, Horatia, Laments her brother lost the glorious proof Of dying for his country. Come, my son, Her softness will infect thee; prithee, leave her. Horatia. [Looking first on her father, and then tenderly on her brother.] Not till my soul has poured its wishes for him. Hear me, dread God of War! protect and save him! [Kneeling. For thee, and thy immortal Rome, he fights! Dash the proud spear from every hostile hand That dare oppose him! may each Alban chief Fly from his presence, or his vengeance feel! And when in triumph he returns to Rome,

[Rising. Hail him, ye maids, with grateful songs of praise, And scatter all the blooming spring before him; Cursed be the envious brow that smiles not then, Cursed be the wretch that wears one mark of sorrow,

Or flies not thus with open arms to greet him!
Enter TULLUS HOSTILIUS, VALERIUS, and
Guards.

Val. The king, my lord, approaches.
Hor. Gracious sir,

Whence comes this condescension?

Tul. Good old man,

Could I have found a nobler messenger,

[blocks in formation]

Of patriot in you. Think, how dreadful 'tis
To plant a dagger in the breast you love;
To spurn the ties of nature, and forget,

In one short hour, whole years of virtuous friendship.

Think well on that.

Pub. I do, my gracious sovereign;

And think, the more I dare subdue affection,
The more my glory.

Tul. True; but yet consider,

Is it an easy task to change affections?
In the dread onset can your meeting eyes
Forget their usual intercourse, and wear

At once the frown of war, and stern defiance?
Will not each look recal the fond remembrance
Of childhood past, when the whole open soul
Breathed cordial love, and plighted many a vow
Of tenderest import? Think on that, young sol-
dier,

And tell me if thy breast be still unmoved?

Pub. Think not, oh, king, howe'er resolved on
combat,

I sit so loosely to the bonds of nature,
As not to feel their force. I feel it strongly.
I love the Curiatii, and would serve them
At life's expence: but here a nobler cause
Demands my sword: for all connections else,
All private duties, are subordinate

To what we owe the public. Partial ties
Of son and father, husband, friend, or brother,
Owe their enjoyments to the public safety,
And without that were vain. Nor need we, sir,
Cast off humanity, and to be heroes,
Cease to be men. As in our earliest days,
While yet we learned the exercise of war,
We strove together, not as enemies,
Yet conscious each of his peculiar worth,
And scorning each to yield; so will we now
Engage, with ardent, not with hostile minds,
Not fired with rage, but emulous of fame.

Tul. Now I dare trust thee; go and teach thy
brothers

To think like thee, and conquest is your own.
This is true courage, not the brutal force
Of vulgar heroes, but the firm resolve
Of virtue and of reason. He, who thinks,
Without their aid, to shine in deeds of arms,
Builds on a sandy basis his renown;
A dream, a vapour, or an ague fit

May make a coward of him. Come, Horatius,
Thy other sons shall meet you at the camp,
For now I do bethink me, 'tis not fit
They should behold their sister thus alarmed.
Haste, soldier, and detain then.

Hor. Gracious sir, We'll follow on the instant.

Tul. Then, farewell!

[To one of the guards.

When next we meet, 'tis Rome and liberty! [Exit with guards. Hor. Come, let me arm thee for the glorious toil.

I have a sword, whose lightning oft has blazed
Dreadfully fatal to my country's foes;
Whose tempered edge has cleft their haughty
crests,

And stained with life-blood many a reeking plain.
This shalt thou bear; myself will gird it on,
And lead thee forth to death or victory. [Going.
And yet, my Publius, shall I own my weak-
ness?

Though I detest the cause from whence they spring,

I feel thy sister's sorrows like a father.
She was my soul's delight.

Pub. And may remain so.

This sudden shock has but alarmed her virtue, Not quite subdued its force. At least, my father,

Time's lenient hand will teach her to endure
The ills of chance, and reason conquer love.
Hor. Should we not see her?
Pub. By no means, my lord;

You heard the king's commands about my bro-,

thers,

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »