University of Virginia Library

SCENA III.

Curiatius, Horatius.
Curiat.
How heaven hell and earth conspire against us,
and make us war! Gods, divels, men, and fortune
prepare a general assault against us;
in the condition that we are, I dare them
to do their worst now, what so e'r they have
of horrible and cruel, is much less
then th'honour which they do unto us both.

Horat.
Fortune, that opens us the lists of honour,
offers a glorious matter to our constancy.
she draines her force to strengthen a misfortune.
To measure her self better with our Valour,
as she esteemeth us not common souls,
she doth exclude our fortunes from the common.
To fight an enemy for the general safety,
and to expose ones self alone to stroaks
against a stranger, is but the effect of
a simple vertue, thousands have already
perform'd it, thousands can perform it still:
to lay ones life down for his Country, is
so faire a fate, so worthy an exposure,
that all should strive to purchase such a death:
But to be willing for to sacrifice
unto the publick that which we do love,
to tye us resolutely to the combat
against our other self, t'assault a party
that takes the Brother of a wife, and Lover
of a deare Sister for its sole defender,
and breaking all these knotts, to arme for's Country
against a blood which one would purchase with
his life, is such a vertue as belongs not
but unto us: The glorious lustre of
its great name makes but few jealous of it;
very few men have so imprinted it
i'th' heart, as to dare to aspire unto
so much renown.

Curiat.
'Tis true, our names henceforth
shall never dye, th'occasion is faire
'tis fit we cherish it, we shall be held
the mirrous of a vertue very rare.
But for all that, our constancy and courage
savours a little of barbarity:
few even of the great hearts would be proud
to goe this way to immortality;
at how high price soever we do set
such a smoake, such vanity; obscurity
is better then so much renown: for my part,
I dare avouch it, and you might have seen it,
that I consulted not upon my duty;
nor our long amity: Love, nor alliance
could e'r suspend my spirit a moments space;
and since by this choice Alba shewes indeed
that she esteemeth me asmuch as Rome
doth you, I think to do as much for her
as you for Rome; I have as good a heart:
but lastly, I'm a man. I see your honour
consists in shedding of my blood, that all
mine doth depend on peircing of your body:
ready t'espouse the Sister, I must kill
the Brother, and all for my Countries sake;
although without fear I fly to my duty,
my heart is fiercely angry, and I tremble
for horrour on't; I cannot chuse but pity
my self, and cast an envious eye on those
whose lives our war hath ravish'd, yet without
any desire to retreat, or relinquish;
this sad and Violent honour moveth me,
but shakes me not; I love that which it gives me,
and waile that which it taketh away from me:
and if Rome doth demand a higher vertue,
I thank the Gods that made me not a Romane,
to conserve yet something of humane in me.

Horat.
If you are not a Romane, make your self
worthy to be so: if you equall me,
make it appear more plainly. Solid vertue,
whereof I boast, admits no weakness with
its constancy, and it is ill to enter
into the lists of honour, and at first step
to looke behind us; our misfortune's great,
it is arriv'd unto the highest point,
I look it boldly in the face, without
trembleing to see it. Against whom soever
my Country doth imploy me, I accept
this glory blindly, but yet joyfully:
that, to receive such faire commands, should smother
in us all other sentiments; who considers,
besides to serve her, any other thing,
disposeth himself poorly to his duty;
this sacred right breaketh all other bonds;
Rome hath found out my arm, I'le not examine it;
with as sincere and full a joy as I
Married the sister, I will fight the brother.
And lastly, to cut off this frivolous speech,
Alba hath nam'd you, I know you no more.

Curiat.
I know you yet, and that is it which kills me;
but this sharpe vertue was not known unto me;
as our misfortune now is, 't is arriv'd
unto the highest point, suffer me to
admire it, and not imitate it.

Horat.
No, no,
embrace not vertue by constraint: and since
you finde more pleasure in complaint, enjoy
so sweet a good with all full liberty.
Behold my Sister comes to lament with you:
I'le goe to see yours, to resolve her soul
unto this thought, that she is still my wife,
to love you still, though I dye by your hands,
and to take to her in her great'st misfortune
the sentiments of Romane.