 | The Tragedy of Sertorius |  |
SCEN. II.
Terentia, Cassius.Ter.
Trust me, thou Roman, I lament thy Fate,
Which hurries thee, in paths obscure to us,
Thus to consume: thou seem'st a walking Ghost,
And, like a Spirit, covet'st lonely Shades;
There breath'st complaints; while thy lamenting Friends
Beg, and intreat thou would'st admit of cure:
With folded arms, and looks which shoot themselves
Into the Earth, thou sigh'st denyal out.
Hither I've trac'd thee, and resolve to know
If there be Pow'r in Friendship; or the Name
But Fiction.
Cass.
Oh, thou excellently Fair!
Yet from that excellence my griefs proceed.
35
Dumb to my woes, as they by Nature made,
I'd sink into my Urn.
Ter.
Bless me, you Pow'rs!
What have I done? what horrid crime committed,
To make a Friend wither, with thought, to shade;
The gift of Gods in life? Oh, Cassius, tell;
That, with the hast of Penitents, I fly
Unto the pitying Gods, which hover o'r
Their holy Mansions: say what Sacrifice,
What Vows, what Incense may atone their Ire;
For I shall never tast of peace or rest
Till I, the Cause, have quieted thy grief.
Cass.
White, as the thought of Innocence, thou art;
Pure, like the first Creation, from all guilt;
That takes it source from the internal frame:
Yet, tho attended, circled round with gifts,
The only Jewel of Heav'ns Tresury,
Such is the violence of head-strong Fate,
I covet—(Oh, how th'unwilling Soul,
Just on the brink of ruin, all confus'd,
Casts a sad look upon her long-lov'd seat,
E're for Immortal change she takes her flight!)
Ter.
Oh, free me, Cassius, from these doubts and fears,
Which make a Winter's storm within my bloud.
Did I not call upon Sertorius love
To raise my Soul, deprest with such a weight,
Sure I should sink in Sorrow's vast Abyss,
Cass.
You have commanded, and I will obey:
Free you from this; but fear a second storm,
More dreadful, and more just. You call'd on Love!
That raises you; but sinks me down to Hell:
For what, but Love, could thus effect a change;
Transform me from the being that I had?
Ter.
I am amaz'd! what is't that Cassius means?
Cass.
But, oh! when, naming Love, I view that face,
Like him who, gazing on the works of Heav'n,
Lost life in admiration of the Object!
Pity me, Fair; tho justly you condemn:
36
For you thus wither,—and thus lose my life;
[Stabs himself.
Say, in my death, That Honor to my Friend
Held a contest with Love, and master'd it.
Ter.
Help, help the wretched; who, distract with pain,
Has sheath'd his killing Dagger in his brest.
Enter her Women.
Oh, run, Camilla; call the Sons of Art,
To stay this deluge; in which Life does hast
To find a passage.
Cass.
In vain is human help.
Let me, in death, Adore; and shoot my Soul,
Viewing thy face, into Elizium shades.
Forgive the boldness of my love: tho Death
Coms swiftly on; yet, ere the latest blast,
Let me intreat you'l to my memory
(How-e're you hate me now) be pitiful.
| The Tragedy of Sertorius | |