 | Horace |  |
Scena Secunda.
Camilla. Julia.Camilla.
Am I so fit for talk? does she believe
I have not equally a cause to grieve?
Or that less feeling in calamity,
I in discourse shed fewer tears then she?
My fears are great as hers, I must, Heav'n knows
As well as she in either party lose:
My Country by my love must be o'rerhrown,
Or he must die defending of his own;
And in this sad necessity of fate
Challenge my sorrow, or incur my hate.
Julia.
Yet she the stricter fortune must obey,
Husbands we cannot change, Servants we may.
Wave Curiace, and accept Valerius love;
That way you will half of your fears remove,
And your revolted heart call'd back to Rome,
Shall fear no loss abroad, but love at home.
Camilla.
Deliberate better counsels for your friend,
Lament my fate, but teach me not t'offend;
For though my frailty ill these mischiefs bear,
'Tis better suffer, than deserve them far.
Julia.
Have prudent changes, crimes reputed been?
Camilla.
Is breach of Faith a pardonable sin?
6
T'a publick Foe what can oblige our troth?
Camilla.
Who can absolve us from a private Oath?
Julia.
Come you would hide a thing that is too plain,
I saw you late Valerius entertain
With that obliging fashion as might move
His forward hopes to glory in his love.
Camilla.
If I receiv'd him with a chearful grace,
There nothing in't to his advantage was,
Another th'object was of that delight,
And learn the truth to set your judgment right:
That I to Curiace may no longer be
Suspected of so base a levity.
There nothing in't to his advantage was,
Another th'object was of that delight,
And learn the truth to set your judgment right:
That I to Curiace may no longer be
Suspected of so base a levity.
His Sister had not with her beauties charms,
Fully six months enrich'd my Brothers arms,
Before he won my Father to proclaim,
My person should reward his vertuous flame.
This happy day produc'd unhappy things,
In joyning us, it did divide our Kings.
Hymen, and War were the products of one
Unhappy moments resolution.
One instant rais'd our flatt'ring hopes on high,
And the same instant beat them from the sky.
As soon as promis'd it destroy'd our joys,
And soon as Lovers, made us Enemies.
In that estate how boundless, and extream
Our sorrows were, how he did heav'n blaspheme,
And what sad show'rs stream'd from my weeping eye,
I need not tell you, you your self were by.
You since have still my souls afflictions seen,
You know what still my prayers for peace have been,
And with what tears on every accident,
I did, or Rome, or my dear Love lament.
Tir'd with delays, at last extream despair
Has forc'd me to the Oracle repair;
And judge by what came yesterday from thence,
If to my joy I had not just pretence.
That Greek long famous for his Oracles,
At Aventinus foot who Fates foretells,
He whom Apollo ne're inspir'd with lies,
The end of all my woes thus prophesies.
Fully six months enrich'd my Brothers arms,
Before he won my Father to proclaim,
My person should reward his vertuous flame.
This happy day produc'd unhappy things,
In joyning us, it did divide our Kings.
Hymen, and War were the products of one
Unhappy moments resolution.
One instant rais'd our flatt'ring hopes on high,
And the same instant beat them from the sky.
As soon as promis'd it destroy'd our joys,
And soon as Lovers, made us Enemies.
In that estate how boundless, and extream
Our sorrows were, how he did heav'n blaspheme,
And what sad show'rs stream'd from my weeping eye,
I need not tell you, you your self were by.
You since have still my souls afflictions seen,
You know what still my prayers for peace have been,
And with what tears on every accident,
I did, or Rome, or my dear Love lament.
Tir'd with delays, at last extream despair
Has forc'd me to the Oracle repair;
And judge by what came yesterday from thence,
If to my joy I had not just pretence.
That Greek long famous for his Oracles,
At Aventinus foot who Fates foretells,
7
The end of all my woes thus prophesies.
“Alba and Rome to morrow shall surcease
“Their jars, thy vows are heard, they shall have peace,
“And thou be joyn'd to Curiace in a tye
“Never to be dissolv'd by Destiny.
“Their jars, thy vows are heard, they shall have peace,
“And thou be joyn'd to Curiace in a tye
“Never to be dissolv'd by Destiny.
This Oracle did my assurance breed,
And as the answer did my hopes exceed,
I gave my soul up to delights, that far
Exceed the happiest Lovers joys that are.
How I was lost in rapture you may guess,
And by th'effects, measure my joys excess,
I saw Valerius and his company
Was not distasteful as it us'd to be;
He courted me without offence, alas!
I ne're consider'd whose the courtship was.
I could nor coldness show, nor disesteem,
For him I saw, to me did Curiace seem:
All that was said to me seem'd to proclaim
The truth, and vigour of his loyal flame,
And all I said was purpos'd to assure
Curiace my faith was permanent, and pure.
The fatal Battel must to day be fought,
I heard it yesterday, but mark'd it not.
Charm'd with the thoughts of happiness, and peace,
My soul rejected such sad thoughts as these:
But night has banish'd hence those false delights,
A thousand fearful dreams of horrid sights,
A thousand piles of slaughter did appear,
That have subdu'd my joy, restor'd my fear.
I saw a stream of blood reek from the slain,
A phantasm rising, disappear'd again;
Each other did confound, and each illusion
Doubled my terror by their strange confusion.
And as the answer did my hopes exceed,
I gave my soul up to delights, that far
Exceed the happiest Lovers joys that are.
How I was lost in rapture you may guess,
And by th'effects, measure my joys excess,
I saw Valerius and his company
Was not distasteful as it us'd to be;
He courted me without offence, alas!
I ne're consider'd whose the courtship was.
I could nor coldness show, nor disesteem,
For him I saw, to me did Curiace seem:
All that was said to me seem'd to proclaim
The truth, and vigour of his loyal flame,
And all I said was purpos'd to assure
Curiace my faith was permanent, and pure.
The fatal Battel must to day be fought,
I heard it yesterday, but mark'd it not.
Charm'd with the thoughts of happiness, and peace,
My soul rejected such sad thoughts as these:
But night has banish'd hence those false delights,
A thousand fearful dreams of horrid sights,
A thousand piles of slaughter did appear,
That have subdu'd my joy, restor'd my fear.
I saw a stream of blood reek from the slain,
A phantasm rising, disappear'd again;
Each other did confound, and each illusion
Doubled my terror by their strange confusion.
Julia.
Dreams contrary expound themselves you know,
Camilla.
I should believe so, since I wish it so.
8
T'expect no peace, but a destructive War.
Julia.
This Battel will conclude it in a peace.
Camilla.
Long live the ill that needs such remedies.
Be it that Rome must fall, or Alba lose,
Never, dear Love, expect me for thy Spouse:
Never, oh! never! can that claim become
A man that Conqueror is, or Slave of Rome?
But what new object does my sight surprize!
Is it my Curiace, may I trust my eyes?
| Horace | |