University of Virginia Library

SCEN. VI.

Fulvia, Perpenna.
Ful.
VVhy all this Tempest, Cneius? Look o're Fate;
And, from the Brasen Volumes, rase the hour
That threatens ruin. Are you mute at this?
Could you, like Hercules, perform anew
His Hydra-labour, it were certain hope;
But gainst the VVinds and Seas usurping rage,
Like Mariners within the giddy Bark,
Mix words with Air, and execrate in vain,
To great men is ignoble: Ebs and Flows
Of Earthly bliss, should to the noble prove
Like the fixt Rocks i'th' VVatry Element.

Perp.
So fir'd Prometheus Image with the Flame
Stoln from Apollo's Car, as at this sound
Those wave'ring thoughts which mutiny'd within
Vapor to Air, as Mysts before the Sun:
Thou chid'st my Fair; but with the famed art
That Orpheus drew Eurydice from Hell;
Thy words, like Charms, make me adore thy form,
And pay thee, Mortal, worship that's Divine.
Say, thou, my life, and be as Oracle;
VVhile thy Perpenna, substitute to thee,
Grows with the sound.

Ful.
Must I then Counsel give,
And form the thought that must evade ill Chance?
Since Heav'n and thee concurring will it so,
Unite Sertorius pow'r, and dissipate
Those clouds of Fury which usurp thy Face:
Ill Angels hover o're despairing men
And breed a mutiny within the Soul;
VVhile the good Spirits act in will alone,
Sigh out their woes and lose their words in Air,
Imperfect sound. None but the wretched feed
On abject hope: for God-like men create,
From the extreams of ruine, certain bliss.
So the skill'd Sea-man, at vast distance knows
When the Salt Surges war the Element:
Incluse within the noble Vessel, braves
The angry Seas, tho ruffled to a storm.

Perp.
Oh Fulvia, 'tis the torture of the damn'd
To rack with thought of Paradise that's lost;
But thou, as when the spangled lights are hid,
And all the Heav'ns in darkness are array'd,
Mortals distract with fear of endless night,
Till the bright Sun does usher in the day:
Half dead, twixt doubt and fear, thou giv'st new life,
And call'st from exile all my Reason back.
There's something thunders in my Ears, revenge,
Pierces like Lightning; but has left its fire
Fixt in my brest, which like to Ætna burns.

Ful.
Let it burn on; it is a noble fire;
And, in the blaze, let the great Hero fall:
Make Lusitania the Funeral Pile,
Her Cities, Sructures Temples, perish all,
And from the fire let greatness take its birth.

Perp.
Let me embrace thee, O thou Excellence!
Whose words have rais'd a fury in my brest
Prompt to revenge; but yet so form'd, so wrought,
That Gods may wonder, and not Fate prevent.
Yes, we will meet Sertorius; to his bane;
And in a dubious language wrought with guile,
Merit belief: till, most secure, he falls.
So when Serenity of air by heat
Becoms perspicuous, and the azure skye
The jarring Element of Fire reflects;
Through subtlest wounds the Soul her passage takes
And leaves the Body sensless of her flight:
So shall Sertorius fall, such is his Fate,
No Thunder shall fore-run the deadly flash.

Ful.
Now thou art worthy of my love, and court'st
In Treasure that surmounts a Danae's showr:
My soul's transplanted in thy brest, and forms
A God-like thought, apt to a Pow'r supream:
Seated by thee, I view the lower VVorld,
The brood of Chance, like giddy Atoms reel;
VVhile, like the Gods, we scatter, or collect,

[Exeunt.