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Show ^ 102) M y fteady heart will never it relent. JULIA. Can you him blame, in this unequal ftrife, W h e n hope is gone, to flye to fave his life ? Valour o'erpower'd, who will of fear condemn ? Toihun that tyde of woes he cannot ftem, What would you have had him done? H O R A C E. Flave dy'd, And fpent his life by his brave Brothers fide. Ah treacherous Deftiny ! that thou fhould'ft give A Son to me,- Rome's freedom to outlive. The fight, true Courage never will forfakc, Whenhis own Country's freedom lies at ftake. C A M I L L A. But has his hafty flight his life then fav'd ? Is famous Rome by Alba quite enflav'd > J U L I A. After this pafiage I made no delay, T o tell you th' news I haftened away. Old H O R A C E . His fearful flight has fo m y honor ftain'd, That it by him can never be regain'd. JULIA. He fled not 'till all hopes were loft and Vain, His want of fcouraig* ymt need not complain. Old H O R A C E . He fhould have fought ftill, rolled his Valor now, Trufting to what tfe Pow'rs above might do ; If he had felicity hbisad with honor dy'd, And to his Name eternal Fame had ty'd., But fince h^iflcd, if I him ever fee, This haftcjfhia Executl'tier fhall be, And by that fked fliali to the World make known, At what a rate his a&ion I difowri. SABINA. Ah Sir ! a i&de check 1 Afe generous heat, And do not make o#r miferies compleat ^M / - x Old I^HMH^H > Old H O A. Your grief Sabina eafic help endures, Since our afflictions ire no longer youfs ; Heaven in out Sorrows yet excufihg yoi^ Hath fav'd youc Ltusband, aud your Borthers to6 \ W e are betray'd, but they have overcome, And 'tis your Country hath fubjefted Admi; And in the luftre of your Brothers fame, You lofe the fight of all our lofs and fliarrie : But your concern for this unworthy M a n fhall \$i¥£ You quickly caufe as well as us to grieve ; Your tears for him will no protection prove, For here I fwear by all the powers above, Thefe very hands, e er night invade the' day, Shall in his Blood wafli Romes difgrace a way. Exit. SABINA. Lefs follow him, left rage his reafon blind ; O Gods ! and will you never more be kind > Muft every hour new blows to us impart, And ftill from hands that much increafe the fmart? Exeunt. A C T IV. SCE N> t Old Horace, arid Camilla. Old H OR. Go, no more breath for ftfch al Goward lofe, Let him flye m e as he has done his fries J To fave that wretched Life he held fo dear, He has done little ; if he now ttppeir, Sabina may prevent it> or I V6w By all the Powers to which ltd moftkk frow--^ C A M I L LA Oh Sir! this Cruel thought no more pitffiie, Or Rome her felf will Uindti b& than you, Arret |