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Horace

A Tragedy
  

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SCEN. VI.
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SCEN. VI.

Horace, Proculus.
PROCULUS.
What have you done?

HORACE.
That which I not repent
Her crime deserv'd no less a punishment.

PROCU.
This rigor in a brother seem'd too great,

HORACE.
The name of sister I must now forget,
Her execrations has remov'd her place
And all her title to th'Horatian Race,
Her treacherous prayers her just resentment warm'd

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And her own blood against her self she arm'd;
Her curses should, before they are fulfil'd
(As Monsters births as soon as born) be kill'd.