University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

FLAMINIUS, NARBAL.
Flaminius.
Unhappy Queen! 'till now I never griev'd
T' obey my emperor.

Nar.
A while she stood
Transform'd by grief to marble, and appear'd
Her own pale monument; but when she breath'd
The secret anguish of her wounded soul;
So moving were the plaints! they wou'd have sooth'd
The stooping falcon to suspend his flight,
And spare his morning prey: thus nature soon
Exhausted, spiritless, had need of art
To respite, or asswage her troubled thoughts:
Then her physicians with the opiate charm
Of gentle sleep, her fainting senses bound,
And hush'd the warring passions into peace.

Fla.
Give me, ye gods, the harmony of war,
The trumpet's clangor, and the clash of arms;
That consort animates the glowing breast
To rush on death; but when our ear is pierc'd
With the sad notes which mournful beauty yields;
Our manhood melts in sympathizing tears.

Nar.
Heav'ns! Is it just that Mariamne's fate
Claims the sad tribute of a tender tear?
She! she! whose gentle goodness strives to chase
Afflictions from mankind. I've seen her weep,
When the fierce hounds have bay'd the panting stag,
'Till the big drops roll'd from his pleading eyes;
And none dar'd let the fatal javelin fly,
Before she left the field.