It was not madness, but the firm result Of settled reason, and deliberate thought. I was resolv'd on death, and witness, Heaven, For the whole round of fame his worth shall boast Horatius. What hast thou said? Wert thou so bent on death? Was all thy rage dissembled ? Horatia. Alas, my father! All but my love was false; what that inspir'd But for the rest, the curses which I pour'd Pub. My sister live! I charge thee live, Horatia! Oh, thou hast planted daggers here. Horatia. My brother! Can you forgive me too! then I am happy. [Dies. Horatius. 'Tis gone, the prop, the comfort of my age. Let me reflect; this morn I had three children, Pub. Strike! 'tis the consummation of my wishes To die, and by your hand. Horatius. Oh, blind old man! Wouldst thou lift up thy sacrilegious hand, Against the chief, the god that sav'd thy country ? There's something in that face that awes my soul, Like a divinity. Hence, thou vile weapon, Disgrace my hand no more. [A cry without.] Justice! Justice! What noise is that? Enter VOLSCINIUS. Vols. All Rome, my lord, has taken the alarm, and crowds Of citizens enrag'd, are posting hither, To call for justice on the head of Publius. them come. Enter TULLUS, VALERIUS, and Citizens. Valerius. See, fellow-citizens, see where she lies, The bleeding victim. Tallus. Stop, unmanner'd youth! Think'st thou we know not wherefore we are here? Seest thou yon drooping sire? Horatius. Permit them, sir. Tullus. What would you, Romans? Valerius. We are come, dread sir, In the behalf of murder'd innocence; Murder'd by him, the man Horatius. Whose conquering arm Has sav'd you all from ruin. Oh, shame! shame! 1st Citizen. Does he plead for him? 2d Citizen. Does he forgive his daughter's death? Horatius. He does, And glories in it, glories in the thought That there's one Roman left who dares be grateful; If you are wrong'd, then what am I Must I Be taught my duty by th' affected tears Of strangers to my blood? Had I been wrong'd, This ready-talking sir to bellow for me, And mouth my wrongs in Rome. Valerius. Friends, countrymen, regard not what he says; Stop, stop your ears, nor hear a frantic father Thus plead against his child. Horatius. He does belie me. What child have I Alas! I have but one And him you would tear from me. G All Citizens. Hear him! hear him! Pub. No; let me speak. Think'st thou, ungrate ful youth, To hurt my quiet? I am hurt beyond Thy power to harm me. Death's extremest tortures Were happiness to what I feel. Yet know, 1st Citizen. How! lov'd her! Pub. Fondly lov'd her; And, under shew of public justice, screens Think you I lov'd her not? High Heaven's my wit ness How tenderly I lov'd her; and the pangs Valerius has misled us. All Citizens. Save him! save him! Behold that virtuous father, who could boast On their accounts; by high Heaven, I swear, Than Rome enslav'd. 1st. Citizen. Oh, excellent Horatius ! All Citizens. Save him! save him! Tullus. Then I pronounce him free. And now, Horatius, The evening of thy stormy day at last Shall close in peace. Here, take him to thy breast. Horatius. My son, my conqueror! 'twas a fatal stroke, But shall not wound our peace. This kind embrace Thou sav'dst the state, and I'll intreat forgiveness. Grief may to grief in endless round succeed, [Exeunt omnes. |