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Show (I20) My life is yours, if any other fhed M y blood, you are but robb'd when I am dead : Rome wants not Worthies to fupport your Crown, And to advance your glory with their own. And here I kneel, attending your command, And only ask that by this fatal hand, I may a fitting facrifice become, Not to m y Sifter, but to you and Rome. • s SCEN. III. > To them Sabina. SABINA. See in Sabina9$ face drawn to the life, The forrows of a Sifter and a Wife. All that I ask, is, but that only I M a y fuffer, with m y o w n loft Family -, What I defire, will be twice juft, t* increafe His mifery, and make m y o w n to ceafe. Think on the ftreights I am in, muft I embrace The fole deftroyer of our Noble Race? Nor is't impiety in m e to hate That Princes fervant, who confounds our State: With m y three Brothers blood I ftand dehTd W h e n to their murtherer I'm reconcil'd; And your juft fentence will two crimes remove That though I fhould not, yet I needs muft love. That which I feek, m y own weak hand can giveV But I would be condemn'd that he might live. J My (121) My blood (it may be) might thofe gods appeafe. W h o m his too rigid virtue did difpleafe ', I (hall Camilla's injur'd Ghoft attend, Nor you want him, whofe hand did Rome defend. Old HOR. You, who your duty to your griefs fubmit, \_To Sabina. And for your Brother, your brave Husband quit, Confult their Ghofts w h o for their Country fell -, And for that caufe in bleft Elizium dwell. They are content the gods decree mould ftand, That Rome and Sabina Nation fhould command i They happy are, fecure from hopes and fears, Nor llghs for fighs, nor tears return for tears. Be like them, and from their example learn Thy duty, and purfue thy chief concern. H e 'gainft the Husband does the Wife enflame. M y Son's brave aclion a foul crime does name. Such as not punidiment deferves, but praife, W h e n Virtue did in Horace paffion raife. T o love our Foes is nicer Idolatry, And rage to curfe our Country when we dye. Her prayers for mifchief with her parting breath, H e thought a crime, and punifli'd it with death. Love to his Country his high paffion mov'd, H e had been faultlefs had he Rome not lov'd: Valerius if he pleafe can tell how high M y fenfe of Honor and revenge did flye, W h e n m e a falfe report did firft perfwade, That m y Son's flight his Country had betray*d; But w h o with m y affairs did him intruft, Boldly to judge Camilla's death unjuft? W h y in m y houfe does he prefume to own, A n intereft which I m y felf lay down ? M y Son's crime pardon'd may the fame produce, N o matter, if it find the fame excufe. |