Time's lenient hand will teach her to endure

The ills of chance, and reason conquer love.
Horatius. Should we not see her?

Pub. By no means, my lord;

brothers,

You heard the king's commands about my
And we have hearts as tender sure as they.
Might I advise, you should confine her closely,
Lest she infect the matrons with her grief,

And bring a stain we should not wish to fix
On the Horatian name.

Horatius. It shall be so.

We'll think no more of her. 'Tis glory calls,
And humbler passions beat alarms in vain.

[Exit.

AS HORATIUS goes off, HORATIA enters at another

Door.

Horatia. Where is my brother?-Oh, my dearest Publius,

If e'er you lov'd Horatia, ever felt

That tenderness which you have seem'd to feel,

Oh, hear her now!

Pub. What wouldst thou, my Horatia ?

Horatia. I know not what I would-I'm on the rack,

Despair and madness tear my lab'ring soul.

-And yet, my brother, sure you might relieve me. Pub. How! by what means? By Heaven, I'll die to do it.

Horatia. You might decline the combat.
Pub. Ha!

Horatia. I do not

Expect it from thee. Pr'ythee, look more kindly. -And yet, is the request so very hard?

I only ask thee not to plunge thy sword

Into the breast thou lov'st, not kill thy friend;
Is that so hard -I might have said thy brother.
Pub. What canst thou mean? Beware, beware,

Horatia;

Thou know'st I dearly love thee, nay, thou know'st
I love the man with whom I must engage.
Yet hast thou faintly read thy brother's soul,
If thou canst think intreaties have the power,
Though urg'd with all the tenderness of tears,
To shake his settled purpose: they may make
My task more hard, and my soul bleed within me,
But cannot touch my virtue.

Horatia. 'Tis not virtue

Which contradi&s our nature, 'tis the rage

Of over-weening pride. Has Rome no champions
She could oppose but you? Are there not thousands
As warm for glory, and as tried in arms,

Who might without a crime aspire to conquest,
Or die with honest fame ?

Pub. Away, away!

Talk to thy lover thus. But 'tis not Caius

Thou wouldst have infamous.

Horatia. Oh, kill me not

With such unkind reproaches. Yes, I own

I love him, more

Pub. Than a chaste Roman maid

Should dare confess.

Horatia. Should dare! What means my brother?

I had my father's sanction on my love,

And duty taught me first to feel its power.

-Should dare confess !-Is that the dreadful crime?
Alas, but spare him, spare thy friend, Horatius,
And I will cast him from my breast for ever.
Will that oblige thee " Only let him die

"By other hands, and I will learn to hate him.”
Pub. Why wilt thou talk thus madly? Love him
still!

And if we fall the victims of our country,

(Which Heav'n avert!) wed, and enjoy him freely. Horatia. Oh, never, never. What, my country's

bane !

The murderer of my brothers! may the gods
First "tear me, blast me, scatter me on winds,
"And" pour out each unheard-of vengeance on me!
Pub. Do not torment thyself thus idly-Go,
Compose thyself, and be again my sister.

Re-enter HORATIUS, with the Sword.

Horatius. This sword in Veii's field--What dost thou here?

Leave him, I charge thee, girl-Come, come, my Publius,

Let's haste where duty calls.

Horatia. What! to the field?

He must not, shall not go'; here will I hang—

If

Oh,
you detest not your distracted sister-

if you have not quite cast off affection I

Horatius. Shame of thy race, why dost thou hang

upon him?

Wouldst thou entail eternal infamy

On him, on me, and all?

Horatia. Indeed I would not,

I know I ask impossibilities;
Yet pity me, my father!

Pub. Pity thee !

Begone, fond wretch, nor urge my temper thus.
By Heaven, I love thee as a brother ought.
Then hear my last resolve; if Fate, averse
To Rome and us, determine my destruction,
I charge thee wed thy lover; he will then
Deserve thee nobly. Or, if kinder gods
Propitious hear the prayers of suppliant Rome,
And he should fall by me, I then expect
No weak upbraidings for a lover's death,
But such returns as shall become thy birth,

A sister's thanks for having sav'd her country. [Exit.
Horatia. Yet stay-Yet hear me, Publius-But one

word.

Horatius. Forbear, rash girl, thou'lt tempt thy fa

ther

To do an outrage might perhaps distract him.

Horatia. Alas, forgive me, sir, I'm very wretched, Indeed I am-Yet I will strive to stop

This swelling grief, and bear it like your daughter. Do but forgive me, sir.

Horatius. I do, I do

Go in, my child, the gods may find a way

To make thee happy yet. But on thy duty,
Whate'er reports may reach, or fears alarm thee,
I charge thee come not to the field.

Horatia. I will not,

If you command it, sir.

But will you then,

As far as cruel honour may permit,

Remember that your poor Horatia's life

Hangs on this dreadful contest?

Horatius. "Lead her in."

[Exit Horatia,

[Looking after her.] Spite of my boasted strength, her griefs unman me.

-But let her from my thoughts! The patriot's breast

No hopes, no fears, but for his country knows,
And in her danger loses private woes.

[Exit.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Continues. VALERIUS and VALERIA meeting.

Valerius.

Now, my Valeria, where's the charming she

That calls me to her with a lover's haste

I fly to execute the dear command.

Valeria. 'Tis not the lover, but the friend she wants, If thou dar'st own that name.

Valerius. The friend, my sister!

There's more than friendship in a lover's breast,
More warm, more tender is the flame he feels-

Valeria. Alas! these raptures suit not her distress: