University of Virginia Library

SCANA II.

The old Horace, Valerius, Camilla.
Valerius.
Sent by the King to consolate a father,
and to express for him—

Old Horat.
Take you no care on't,
it is a comfort which I have no need of;
I rather would behold them dead, then covered
with infamy, that come to take me from
an enemies hand; they dy'd both for their Country
like men of honour, 'tis sufficient.

Val.
But, Sir, the other is a rarer blessing,
of all the three he ought to hold with you
the chiefest place.

Old Horat.
Would he have made the name
of the Horatii perish with himself!

Val.
You onely treat him ill after the deed
that he hath done.

Old Horat.
His fault belongs to me
onely to punish.

Val.
What fault can you finde
in his good conduct?

Old Horat.
What brave vertue can you
finde in his flight?

Val.
His flight is glorious
on this ocasion.

Old Horat.
You redouble, Sir,
my shame and my confusion: sure th'example
is rare, and worthy memory, to finde
in flight a way to glory.

Val.
What confusion,
and what shame is't to you to have brought forth
a Son that doth conserve us all, that maketh
Rome triumph, and gaineth an Empire to her?

Old Horat.
What preservation, triumph, and what Empire,
when Alba rangeth underneath her lawes
our destiny!

Val.
What speak you here of Alba,
and of her Victory? you know not yet
halfe of the story.

Old Horat.
What? is not the combat
finished by his flight?

Val.
Alba Thought so
at first, but she perceived soon, that he
fled like a man, that knew well how to manage
Romes best advantage.

Old Horat.
What! triumphs Rome then?

Val.
Be pleas'd to understand; the valour of
this son, whom wrongfully you do condemn,
resting alone 'gainst three, (but in this passage,
all the three being wounded, and he free)
too weake for all, too strong for either of them,
he thought it fit a little to retire him;
he fled to fight the better; this quick policie
fitly divides the brothers, each of them
follows him with a pace more or less eager,
as he doth finde himself more or less hurt:
their heat was equal to pursue his flight,
but their unequal blows did separate
their pursuite: when Horatius saw them thus
scattered one from the other, he return'd,
and thought them more then halfe conquer'd already:
he did expect the first, and 'twas your son in law,
who all enraged that he should stay for him,
in vain did make a great heart to appear,
assaulting him, the blood that he had lost
weakened his strength: Alba began to fear
a change of fortune, she cry'd to the second
that he should ayd his Brother; he made hast,
and spent himself in vain attemps for her,
but found his Brother dead when he came up.

Cam.
Alas!

Val.
Quite out of breath, he tooke his brothers place,
and soon redoubled Horatius Victory;
his courage without strength was a weak prop:
desirous to revenge his brothers death,
he fell down by him. The air did resound
with cryes, which all sent unto heaven upon it;
Alba breath'd sorrow, and the Romans joy.
As our brave Hero saw his enterprise
neer at an end, he would a little vaunt
as well as conquer: I am come (said he)
from sacrificing two unto the Ghosts
of my dead brothers: Rome shall have the last
of my three adversaries, it is unto
her int'rests that I offer him: This said,
he presently flew at him; between them
the Victory remain'd not long time doubtful;
the Alban pierc'd with wounds, could hardly stand,
and as a Victime brought before the Altar,
he seemed to present his yeelding throat
unto the deadly stroak; so he receiv'd it.
His death establisheth the power of Rome.

Old Horat.
O my Son! O my joy! O honour of
my dayes! O unexpected succour of
a tottering State! O vertue worthy Rome,
and blood worthy Horatius! Thou support
of thy deer Country, glory of thy race!
When can I smother in my close imbracements
the error wherewith I form'd such false sent'ments?
When may my love bath thy victorious front
with tears of joy?

Val.
Sir, presently you may
Use your caresses, the King goes to send him
unto you, and deferres untill to morrow
the pompous sacrifice which we owe to the gods
for such a benefit; onely to day
we pay them but with songs of Victory,
and ordinary vows. The King doth lead him
unto the Temple, whilst he sendeth mee
to do this office to you both of joy
and grief together: But this is not yet
enough for him, he will come here himself,
perhaps to day; this noble action
so highly toucheth him, that he will thank you
with his own mouth, for giving your brave sons
to the good of his State.

Old Horat.
Such high acknowledgments
have too much glory for me; I account
my self already too much paid by yours
for the ones service, and the others blood.

Val.
The King can't do an honour (Sir) by halfs;
and his Crown snatched from the enemies hands,
makes him esteem the honour he intends you
beneath the Father's merit, and the Son's.
I'll go to let him know what noble sentiments
Vertue inspires into you, and what ardour
you expresse for his service.
Exit Valerius.

Old Horat.
I shall be very redeonble to you
for that good office.