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SCENE IV.
The Palace.Eum.
The present is an awful dubious hour,
Of dread suspense, and pregnant with the fate
Of deeds mysterious. May no envious chance
Render their birth abortive!—Still I move
With unsuspected feet.—O Belisarius
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Of Phorbas' safety; dare not trust thy own.
Heroic mind! whose virtue will not swerve
From its exalted course! In prosperous hour,
Or in adverse, most singularly great,
He follows his sublimer plan of conduct;
And walks, in these degenerate days, alone;
A bright example to the inferior kind
What man should be; a creature nobly-form'd,
Of spotless elements, and half divine.
But scrupulous exactness doth not suit
This vile, base æra; this adulterous age
Admits not purity unmixt, unstain'd.
In seasons rank like these, what else were vice,
Is become virtue Mutiny, rebellion
Cast off their odious vestments, and are dress'd
In robes of comeliness, and real grace.
Enter Caius.
What means this pallied hue? this face of horror?
Caius.
Oh! I have seen, what, like Medusa's locks
Might rivet me immoveable to earth.
When will the hand of persecution cease?
The measure of calamity be full?
Eum.
What hast thou seen?
Caius.
Alas! with rancour swollen,
This low-soul'd caitiff, his destructive snares
Spreads not for men alone, the weaker sex,
The hapless infant, his fell rage pursues.
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I saw by Decius to the prison borne,
With the young hope of Phorbas; while Marcella
With looks of woe, thro' which shot orient beauty,
And conscious greatness, and insulted worth,
By Narbal met, was led to his apartment.
Eum.
What wills the monster? with what new designs
Teems his prolific brain? He thinks perchance
By these loved objects to avert the blow,
And shun the people's fury.
Caius.
Rather say
As the fierce panther tears the harmless flock,
These are the fated victims of his malice,
And savage cruelty.
Eum.
Where slept our caution?
Why did we plant not an encircling band
Around their sacred walls? Why did not Phorbas
Remove them from the threatening arm of danger?
Not leave them thus defenceless to their foe?
Caius.
Occasion hath not smiled upon our purpose.
Neither could Phorbas ward the sudden blow,
Scarce safe himself, and in disguise compell'd
To join Nicanor.
Eum.
Let us watch with care
The step of opportunity.—He comes
To crush oppression, and revenge his wrongs.—
Still sound the guards; and with our chosen number
Seize we the lucky instant to forsake
The dastard slaves who sanctify injustice.
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Better with them to die, than mid a crew
Of tainted lepers catch the dire disease,
And linger on a hateful life with them.
[Exeunt.
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