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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
p? Where are thy brothers i Has the Alban state Determin'd? Is the time of combat fix'd ?
Pub. Think not, my lord, that filial reverence, However due, had drawn me from the held, 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 grac’d My brows, and niade thee proud indeed to see Beneath thy roof, and bending for thy blessing, Not thine, Horatius, but the son of Rome ! Horatius. Oh, virtuous pride !--'tis bliss too ex.
quisite For human sense Ithus, let me answer thee.
[Embracing him again. Where are ny other boys?
Pub. They only wait
Horatius. It shall not need,
Now with my boys, and be the next my last i
Horatia. My brother!
Pub. My Horatia I ere the dews
Horatia. Methinks, a lover
Pub. Dearest sister,
my brother Horatius. [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,
on her brother. ] Not 'till my soul has pour'd
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 ; Curs'd be the envious brow that smiles not then, Curs'd 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.
Valerius. The king, my lord, approaches.
Horatius. Gracious sir,
Tullus. Good old inın;
Horatius. Mighty king!
Tullus. Too sure they must.
Tullus. But that they must engage
whom. Horatius. I care not whom.
Tullus. Suppose your nearest friends, The Curiatii, were the Alban choice, Could you bear that? Could you, young man, support A conflict there?
Pub. I could perform my duty, Great sir, though even a brother should oppose me. Tullus. Thou art a Roman! Let thy king embrace
thee. Horatius. And let thy father catch thee from his
Tullus. [To Publius.] Know then, that trial must
be thine. The Albans With envy saw one family produce Three chiefs, to whom their country dared entrust The Roman cause, and scorn'd to be outdone.
Horatia. Then I am lost indeed; wasic for this, For this, I pray'd !
[Swoons. Pub. My sister ! Poleria. My Horatia:! Oh, support her!
Horatius. Oh, foolish girl, to shame thy father thus! Here, bear her in.
[Horatia is carried in, Valerius and Valeria folloa.
I am concern'd, my sovereign,
Tullus. It does most amply. She has cause for
The shock was sudden, and might well alarm A firmer bosom. 6. The weak sex demand “ Our pity, not our anger; their soft breasts “ Are nearer touch'd, and more expos’d to sorrows “ Than man's experter sense. Nor let us blame " That tenderness which smooths our rougher na.
tures, “ And softens all the joys of social life.” We leave her to her tears. For you, young soldier, You must prepare for combat. Some few hours Are all that are allow'd you. But I charge you Try well your heart, and strengthen every thought Of patriot in you.
Think how dreadful 'is
Pub. I do, my gracious sovereign;
Tullus. True; but yet consider,