University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Decius, Clelia, Mutius.
Decius.
Truth wou'd be deem'd a Fable, shou'd I speak
But half his Baseness: believe me, gentle Clelia,
(Tho' the beholding Thee was my best Wish)
Yet his ill-omen'd Presence damp'd the Meeting,
And pain'd the Pleasure.

Clelia.
His Pretence to me,
Was to inform me of my Father's coming;
Of thy Return and Safety:—These were Tydings
Must claim a Welcome from the Heart of Clelia.

Decius.
No more, my Love;—let us not waste the Moments,
For happier Subjects destin'd, on a Wretch:—
Look where his Agent stands—his black Accomplice:—
[Observing Mutius.
Do but observe the Face of Villany,
How different from the Brow of Innocence!
See what a settled Gloom obscures his Visage,
Sure Emblem of the Horror of his Breast,
Where his false Heart enthron'd in native Darkness
(Unconscious and unwishing for the Light)
Broods o'er new Treasons, and enjoys the Mischief.

Clelia.
But look where Martia, where my Mother comes,
On Wings of Transport borne to meet her Regulus:
See how Affection swells to Extasy,
O'er-flowing at the Eyes—while every Motion
Speaks the unbounded Madness of her Joy,
And dresses Pleasure in Distraction's Garb.