University of Virginia Library

SCEN. VII.

Bebricius, to Sertorius, &c.
Bebr.
Fulvia, Perpenna, sorrowing thy delay,
Has felt the stroke of sickness; but thy sight
(So she commanded tell thee) brings her health.

Perp.
Ha! is she ill? (She has the Signal sent
Of her success; but I must hide my joyes!)
You Gods, averse to all that's great in me,
Why wound you so? Let Triumph, Honor, all
Perish within the thought, e're I delay
A minute longer. 'Sdeath, my Gall will burst!
Aufidius, Manlius, sound the depth of Fate;
Take all my wishes with you: from this hour
We ether make, or lose all future joyes.

[Exit.
[Bebr. and Cass. whisper to Sertorius.
Auf.
What makes you study, Crassus? Is't this fight?
Or is it that the Croud, neglecting us,
Pay all their Vows to him?

Crass.
I know not what
Tumults within; but yet 'twere not amiss
They thank'd us, for the wounds we got in fight.

Man.
Ligurius! Decius! why d'ye bite your lips?
Why writh your looks into an angry frown?

Lig.
'Twas nothing, Manlius, but a sullen thought.

Dec.
Mine was the same; but, see, we are observ'd!

Sert.
You noble Lusitanians, all are bound
To pay the glories of the Day to him,
The brave Perpenna, who deserves your vows:
Not in the VVar of Heav'n, when Godheads Arm'd
And shook the mighty Empire of the Sky,
Did the Cyclopian bolts out-do his Sword.
Terentia, thou, whose longing eyes behold
Thy Quintus safety, ought to thank him for't.
VVhen bold Aquinius, circled round with Fate,
Like the Controller of the Destinies,
He forc'd his way: and the ambitious man,
Proud of the growing Glories of the Day,
Fell from th'usurped Chariot of the Sun.

Ter.
'Tis thou, my life, that dost inspire my tongue
VVith thanks, as to a saving Pow'r. Oh, where
Had thy Terentia been, when Heav'n and Earth,
One trembling, t'other Ecchoing with fierce sounds,
And Gods impartial throng'd to view the fight,
If the barbarity of him thou sav'dst
Had made a breach in life? Show me the man,
That with an obligation infinite
Has freed my fears, and blest my eyes again.

Auf.
Proud of the honor, fighting by thy side,
And glorying in the objects form'd by thee,
A servant to thy Fame; Perpenna said,
When hasting to embrace whom sickness made
A stranger to the splendid Scene, his Fulvia:
That nought but all the Tresure of his love
Could, in the lucky minute of his life,
Cause any separation from his Friend.

Sert.
VVhat said Aufidius? is Fulvia sick?
Can so much beauty temt the Gods to Fate?
Appollo Pythius, minister her health;
Summon the followers of the Delphic God,
And, with them, tell Perpenna how I grieve
At this sinister period of our joyes.

Ter.
Good Heav'n, defend! what is't I hear? you Gods,
Can then Sertorius bow to any Shrine
Than what so oft he' has sworn by? am I then
Lost in the novelty? So bliss, when reapt,
Serves only to delight in absent thought.

Sert.
By Heav'n, the Vestal fire is not more pure,
Than what my heart does offer up to thee,
The Altar of thy Love, thy Beauty's Throne;
Where thoughts take birth, as Gold by fire Refin'd.
Can I in Friendship then commit a crime,
Sorrowing that loss which might have been our own?
Honor commands a Sympathy in grief:
But Love, the noble passion of the Soul,
Does in the glass reflect upon it self,
And while it views inflames the Element.

Ter.
Forgive me, Quintus: such 'the tender seat
Where Love's enthron'd, such jealousies, such cares
'Tend on the Passion, that we tread the Maze,
And wander in the Labyrinth of thought,
When the Idea by our Fancy rais'd
Proves Rebel, and with Jealousy unites:
But now, inlightned by thy words, I feel
Joy in thy presence; with thee Sympathize.

Sert.
Lead forward, Friends, you Sinews of the War,
In shape like Men, but in your deeds like Gods;
Divide the Spoils, and Reign for ever here:
While to the Pow'rs Divine we celebrate
Thanks, suting to the Glories we have won;
Perfume the locks of the now setting Sun.

[Exeunt.