 | Brutus |  |
SCENE VIII.
TITUS, MESSALA, ALBINUS.ALBINUS.
By Aruns sent;
The time for his departure fix'd, permits him
Once more to see thee; He is now with Tullia.
TITUS.
With Tullia! Oh! I hasten to her presence,
Swift as the wing of thought.—Ye gods of Rome!
Ye ever-watchful powers, who guard my country!
Here aim your vengeance! Pierce a heart which shrinks,
Which feels the terrors of self-gender'd shame,
Which had it never loved, would still have beat
Responsive to the sacred touch of virtue.
For you, must the devoted victim fall
Ungrateful senate? Must it bleed for you,
Pure, ardent, faithful love?—I come, my Tullia!
[To Messala.
See where the capitol in every part
With trophied arches shine, the monuments
Of my integrity.
MESSALA.
There likewise meet
This hateful senate.
283
Thou fore-run'st my thoughts.
There doth it meet indeed!—But—o'er my head
Heaven's vollying thunders roll.—I hear a voice
Awefully warning.—Hold! Advance no further!
Ungrateful Titus, thou betray'st thy country.
No, Rome! No, Brutus! That shall never be.
Ye gods, who stopp'd me on the verge of madness,
I am again myself. Fame's brightest rays
Have my past life illumed; nor have I tainted
The clear and spotless fountain of my blood.
Your victim is unblemish'd; and if doom'd
To crimes involuntary, or to sink
Beneath the load of fate, ye gods, avert
All ill from Rome! Let Titus only perish!
But strike in mercy, e'er he taste of guilt.
| Brutus | |