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Show ."-.- (8o) Rome hath no Soldiers, but your Fathers Sons: By this, their Families muft raife their Name, And nobly confecrate themfelves to Fame : Yes, by this choice w e fo much Honor fee Giv'n to one Houfe, as might Eternize three ; And fince in yours m y Fortune and m y Flame Hath plac'd a Sifter, and a Wife does claim, You juftly may expecl: Concerns in me, From what I am, and what I a m to be: But yet another reafon does conftrain M y Joy, and mingles5 with it much of pain', For your fam d courage to that pitch is flown, That Albas fall already I bemoan. Her lofs is certain now 5 and naming you, Ev n Deftiny her felf hath fworn it too. In this Election I read Alba's doom, And count m y felf a Subject n o w of Rome. HORACE. 'Tis Rome, not Alba, your compaflion claims, Viewing w h o m fhe reje&s, and whom fhe names: Her partial favor may her Fortune lofe, W h o having fo much choice, fo ill does chufe : A thoufatfd braver Sons flie had than we, W h o might with more fuccefs her Champions be. But though m y ruine in this choice I find, With noble Pride it elevates m y Mind ; M y hearts afTurance gathers mighty fcope, And from m y little courage, much I hope 5 Which howfoever Fate intends to treat I cannot think m y felf your SubjecT yet : Rome hopes too well of me, and therefore I Will anfwer that great truft, or for it dye. He that will dye, or vanquifh, feldom fails; That brave defpair moft commonly prevails: H o w e'er it be, fhe never fhall obey Till m y laft gafp fays, I have loft the Dav. CURTIUS. Alas! m y fortune only calls for Tears, Since • > > (50 Since what m y Country hopes, m y Friendflnp fears. Cruel extreams ! Alba muft be fubdu'd Or elfe her Triumph with your blood embrud, And all the Glory for which fhe has fought, . Can onely with fo dear a Life be bought! What can I wiih, or what event defire, Since either fo much forrow will require? And every way I fee m y hopes dcny'd. HORACE. Would you regret m e if for Rmne I dy'd I A Death fo noble, lovely does appear, And is too Glorious to endure a Tear : Nay I fhould court it, and m y ruine blefi, If Rome by m y defeat would furTer lefs CURTIUS. But yet you may allow your friends to fear What will to them at leaft be fo fevere -, They fuffer in your glory, and one fate Makes you Immortal, them unfortunate. He lofes all, who fuch a Friend muft lofe. But hither Flavins comes, and brines us news. Hath Albas Councel yet her Champions chofe ? SCEN. II. Horace, Curtius, Flavins. F L A VIU S. t come to tell you. CURTIUS. Well, and who are thofe ? FLAVIUS. You, and your Brothers. CURTIUS. Who? FLAVIUS. Ev'n they, and you : But |