 | Junius Brutus |  |
SCENE IV.
Lucia, Hortensia.LUCIA.
Ye Pow'rs Supreme, what Incense can I offer?
You smile relenting. Blest Reverse of Fortune!
That Flame, for which I blush'd, now purely burns,
And may with Honour be indulg'd and own'd.
[To Hortensia.]
Haste, dear Hortensia, and inform my Titus,
He is allow'd to come into my Presence.
Shall he, unconscious of his Happiness,
Languish in Grief, while I exult with Joy?
But don't I cherish a delusive Hope?
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Alas! perhaps, I owe to his Resentment,
That which I thought the sole Effect of Love!
HORTENSIA.
'Tis true, the Senate has provok'd his Anger,
And he's ambitious—Yet he dies for you!
LUCIA.
He loves, and will do every thing to serve me!
Then fly without Delay—
[Exit Hortensia.
And yet this sudden Change,
This Letter—What struggling Cares encounter Here!—
Blaze forth, my Love, consistent now with Virtue!
Honour, Reason, Duty, All command it!
My Love will fix the Crown on Tarquin's Head!
I shall unite brave Titus and my Father!
The Happiness of Rome will flow from mine!
O! Thou, the Object of my soft Desires!
When shall I tell thee this amazing Change?
When shall I, Titus, with transporting Pleasure,
With thee converse, and hear thy tuneful Voice?
Each anxious Care is fled! Rome, I forgive thee!
With timely Tears appease thy injur'd Sovereign.
Submit, ye Senate; you have lost your Champion!
Titus is mine—with Fear obey your King!
| Junius Brutus | |