Romulus and Hersilia, or, The Sabine war a trage dy acted at the Dukes Theatre.

Romulus & Hersilia, OR THE Sabine War.

ACT. I.

SCENE I.

Romulus, Hersilia, Hostilius, and Attendance.

Rom.

WHY weeps Hersilia? What malicious sor∣row envies the world the luster of those eyes, and draws a Cloud o're beauties rich∣est treasure? Has love appear'd injurious? Do you repent the blessings you have given your Romulus? And do I seem to you too, the hated Ravisher your severe Father makes me?

Hers.

Pardon my dearest Lord, pardon these tears, tis the soft flame of love, here at my heart, makes these warm drops distil∣lt is for you! Had I less value for my Romulus, I had not known these sorrows. Witness you Heavens! I wish I had a voice might reach the ear of every Roman, every Sabine, nay through all Italy, while thus I vindicate my Romulus from any force on, me, but that of love. You Gods! was this a Rape! no it was all consent; and all mutual design. But what is love? what's Truth? what's Justice? when my Flint-hearted Father calls it a Rape, and vows revenge?

Rom.

And is this all, my Love, are these the fears that cause the precious shower? If this be all, stay those dear streams, whose e∣very drop's a pearl of value to redeem a Captive King. I Honour

Tatius as Hersilia's Father; but if he brings us War, and as a Foe ap∣proaches Rome, swelling with empty threats, I'll tell him, in the language of my Father Mars, I slight his anger, smile at his Re∣venge.

Hers.

But I must be unhappy; whoever wins, you must lose sufficiently: Whether my Father or my Husband bleeds, still I am wounded, good Heavens! why have you made the sweets of love ever to be allay'd with so much bitterness?

Rom.

You kill me with your tears: My love, my love, wou'd you have me weep too? Forbear, or I shall lose my Manhood, while all that's Roman in me melts away to see you thus desolved in sorrows; what wou'd you have me do? Sweetest of all thy Sex, at your Command I'll fall at Tatius feet, and bid him cut my head off, because I love his Daughter more then ten thousand lives.

Hers.

Forbid it all you Gods; no, live my Lord, live to defend Hersilia, your Hersilia, from a cruel Father, who wou'd not let her live, that is, not love her Romulus: Live to defend that Romulus, Hersilia's better self, from an unjust invader: Methinks I feel inspired a courage truly brave and truly Roman; let the malicious world assault me with all its fury, while I am thus inthron'd in your dear Armes, I am secure of Fortune.

Rom.

Ay! now I'm blest; now, now I Reign indeed, now at this omen, I see my Infant Rome lift her aspiring head above the Nations, while all the Ocean and the remotest Isles dance at her smiles, and tremble at her frowns. O thou brighter Venus, thou more Majestick Iuno, can you say this to me and not transfer at the same time the whole worlds Empire hither? Hostilius! Friend! why are you silent? speak my best Friend, am I not truly great, can there be greater?

Host.

(aside)

Oh tormenting Question! How shall I answer this and not discover a base unfriendly envy? Away degenerate Pas∣sion, I'll tear thee from my long abused heart, or tear that heart out.

Rom.

What means this silence? Does ill fate appear, in all its various forms of sorrow to me? Here drown'd in tears, and there in silent groans. She cannot sure keep long from me, since she has made so near approaches. You two divide my Soul: The best of Women, and the worthiest Friend; and do you strive whose grief shall most afflict me?

Host.

Forgive me, Sir, or rather pitty me, tis I am only wretched amidst this common Joy, opprest with an ill timed and causeless

Melancholly. 'Tis a disease I know; let it not be infectious, why should you be concern'd to hear me sigh. Are not you blest in your Hersilias love; you are an Emperour, a God in that, and you deserve it which of all the immortal beings woud not change Hea∣vens with Romulus? Woud you contemplate the Celestial Glories? You have 'em here. Wou'd you see brighter Stars than those above? behold 'em in these eyes. Woud you have Musick far be∣yond that of the higher Orbs? Hersilias voice shall give it. Woud you be immortal and taste Ambrosia? You have it in these Lips:

The dyet of the Gods is pall'd and course to that, But I'm a Devil, damn'd to dispair and silence.

[Aside.

Rom.

Can I be happy, and Hostilius wear a Mourning look? My Joys should be all yours, or mine your sorrows, if I'm thus highly blest, (and sure I am) pertake of all my Fortune. Com∣mand, Rule, Reign, over my Rome and me. Have I a City, Sub∣jects, Crown, and my Friend not the same? Is not Hostilius Ro∣mulus, and Romulus Hostilius? Take and enjoy then all that makes me happy, but leave your mournful silence.

Host.

(Aside)

Oh Royal bounty! oh unheedful kindness, he knows not what he sayes, nor I to answer to this invidious Friendship.

Enter Feliciana.

Feli.

Oh Sister, O dear Hersilia, what will become of us.

Hers.

Why Sister, what surprizing fright has caus'd this Questi∣on?

Feli.

The City's all allarm'd: While from the Tarrace yonder, I saw the distant-hills towards the west-gate covered with Arm∣ed Sabines drawing this way: I hear they come to have us back, alive or dead; are these the effects of your Heroick Passions! in∣deed Hersilia, tho I respect you dearly, you had not had my Company, if I had thought I shoud have dyed for Love.

Rom.

Innocently pretty! fear not, Feliciana, these are but shews of terrour, there's nothings real in 'em. Come Hostilius, let us go view the Enemy, and give such orders as may secure the Ladies fears, and make the Sabines know, Romans and Lovers are not to be Conquered.

[Exeunt Rom. Host.

Feli.

Sister, how great a change do we find here from the still life we 'mongst the Sabines led, while at our Fathers Silvan Pal∣lace, there, frighter from love, and seldome seen of Men, we spent so many dayes in the adjoyning Groves, that all the wild Inhabi∣tants knew us as part of them, the Thorstle, Nightingale, and little Redbrest, with all the other pretty feather'd Quire, at our ap∣proach wou'd flock about, and fill the Air with a compleat and chearful consort: The speckled Dear woud fearless bring their Fawns, and seek their food from me.

Hers.

True Feliciana, those were our softer hours. Thoughtless in that calm state we past the year, And knew not what it was to love or fear.

But now I have learnt both; since the brave Romulus first met me in those shades: (Ah fatal hour, yet hour I still must love) we often met, and full of angry tears at the approaching night as often parted. You know Feliciana, how we dispairing ever to procure the severe Tatius to approve our love, the gene∣rous Youth of Rome, by my consent, forc'd us, and all our Train of Sabine Ladies, from the great feast and Sacred Rights of Consus.

Feli.

I know too much: Woud I had never known more then the harmless joyes of our own dwelling. Widdow'd for loss of me; how will the Turtles grieve, which I so often fed, and kist in feeding? Were they now here, methinks, I could instruct 'em to sigh, and Coo, and mourn, with better Emphesis, then their own feather'd Parents in a Grove of Cypress.

[Weeps.

Hers.

Alas my pretty Sister, weep not however. If the sweet toiles of Lovers are uneasie to you, you may return. Command a Chariot and a Convoy when you please; why shoud I force my Sister to pertake my troubles.

Feli.

Sure Hersilia cannot have so mean a thought of me, to think I'de leave her, no I'le die here: Yet wear you not my Sister, I coud not go from Rome. I know not what it is, but something here, about my heart, afflicts me, and often pants, and heaves, and almost stops my breath; and will not suffer me so much as wish to be again amongst the Sabines and my once loved pleasure: Of late I alwayes weep and sigh when private, yet know not why: I seek to be alone, hate Company, yet know not well the cause of this uneasie humour.

Hers.

Why these are all the innocent signs of stifled Love.

Feli.

(sighing)

Indeed it may be so: Had it been any thing but that, I might perhaps have known the cause, and sought a cure; but

love's so great a stranger, I can't: So much as guess at his proceedings.

Her.

How long have you been thus?

Fel.

E're since the willing force that brought us hither. I need not tell you (for you well remember) how at those publick Shews where we were taken, Prisoners of Love, when at the signal given Your Romulus seiz'd you, and every Roman youth, that Lady whom his choice or chance presented: Hostilius, for my quality no doubt, as being your Sister, not for my person, made me his care, and enter∣tained me then with so much gallantry, and such obliging kindness, that I have never since had any ease but when I see him, yet I had ra∣ther die than he should know it.

Hers.

Fear not dying my Felciana, I know Hostilius, by his silent sighs, melts with loves kindly flames as much as you.

Fel.

That, that's my torment—: for silly as I am, I see he loves, but see withal, I'am not the Object. Since that dear time of our first encounter, he never treated me with one kind word; But where∣soever I'm present, he looks another way, and sighs, and never speaks to me.

Hers.

Pretty Feliciana weep no more; but trust your Cares to me, I will find out a Cure, for this sweet innocent Passion. Mean time, let's seek my Romulus: I have not patience to endure his ab∣sence: I know his friend is with him too: Come Sister, you shall see Hostilius.

Fel.

O hold, I dare not Sister: Since I have told you all my weakness for Hostilius, I am ashamed to let you see me see him.

Hers.

Away you foolish Innocent, remove Such idle scruples, or ne're thrive in Love.

[Exeunt.

ACT. I. SCENE II.

Enter Romulus, Hostilius, Spurius Tarpeius.

Rom.

THE Western Gate that fronts the Enemy, with the adjoyning Fort, Tarpeius, I commit to your experi∣enc'd Loyalty and Conduct.

Sp. Tar.

It is an honour Sir, which when I give you cause to wish undone, take off my head.

Rom.

Hostilius, to you belongs all the Command I have my self in my own City.

Hostil.

Why shou'd you be so prodigal of favours! Why shou'd you lavish thus, my best of friends, what Heaven and your own me∣rits have conspired to make you only worthy of! On me, on me too: One that can taste no happiness, one whose dull sence has lost all relish of a blessing, one born to be a wretch, a curst unhappy wretch!

Rom.

This is extravagancy, sure friend you are not well.

Hostil.

My tongue too much betrays me, woud I coud spit it out —I must confess, great Sir, my mind of late is much distempered: Which often makes my language out of order. It is a causless tran∣siant Cloud, I know, and soon will over. I beg you take no notice of it. I am too sensible of my own imperfection, and am ashamed to have it known to others.

Rom.

'Tis reason nobly urged, I'm silent—but see Hersilia.—

Enter Hersilia, Feliciana, Tarpeia, &c.

Rom.

Be safe my Love as your own wish can fancy: Nor let the pretty Feliciana fear, since Rome is now so guarded, that the Sabines may as well hope to storm the Cloud as prevail here: No arms but those of friendship can pass these Walls.

Her.

I think, my Lord your cause will raise an Army even of Wo∣men. Tarpeia talks so bravely here, and in such Martial Language, that were we all like her we alone were sufficient, not only to defend our selves, but to subdue all the adjacent Enemies of Rome.

Rom.

Your Conquest, sweet Hersilia, have been already greater: And for the fair Tarpeia since she appears so brave, she too shall have a share in our Command—Tarpeius, let your Daughter act as Leiute∣nant in your absence: This is the Ladies War, and why should then that Sex be bar'd to share the honours of it?

Enter a Souldier.

Sol.

Sabinus Curtius Sir, sent from the Enemy, attends without.

Rom.

Admit him.

Fel.

Now Sister should this War, scarce yet begun, end in a treaty?

Hers.

As I'm a Sabine by my Birth, I wish a Peace with honour, but I am more a Roman by my inclination than to desire it basely.

Enter Curtius.

Cur.

Tatius the just, to the great Romulus, hath sent these terms of Peace—

Host.

He speaks as if we were already Conquered!

Rom.

Suffer him, good Hostilius.—Go on Sir

Cur.

He sayes the Sabines never yet loved war meerly for the inhumane act of killing. Tis your own selves then that destroy your selves, if you refuse him Justice; he offers therefore, e're yet the Sword has been unkind to Roman Mothers, e're widdowed Matrons, with hands up heav'd to Heaven, name you, and curse the cause that rob'd them of their Husbands, e're Orphan Babes, like Callow Birds, the old one killed abroad, dye mourning for their food; 'ere these and thousand worse events of war arrive, he of∣fers to withdraw his arms, if you restore Hersilia and the other Ladies.

Host.

Restore Hersilia?

Cur.

Who 'gainst the Law of Nations, 'gainst all the rights of Civil life, you first invited to your publick Entertainments, and then from thence so fouly ravisht. Our General farther sayes, if after this your merits can prevail with their respective Parents, to gain 'em for your Wives, you shall have liberty to use such formal means in your address, as peace and Love, not brutal force al∣low of.

Rom.

Tell the most Noble Tatius, he is now our Father-in-law, and we as such shall treat him; how e're his, passion bids him act with us. Hersilia's not ashamed to call her Romulus Husband; and can her Romulus fear to call her Wife, and as such keep her here? No, shou'd he bring a greater force than that which made the ten years Seige at Troy, here she shoud live and Reign, secure, and better guarded then their Palladium: And for the other Ladies, (in all but thirty, and most Attendants to Hersilia) they have all found by their own free Election, Husbands or humble Lovers of the best of Rome; I cannot force the property of others, nor can I in civility bid 'em remove, where their own choice and love has made 'em settle; besides it were impertinent and base for us to quit the love which they themselves have given, and make a new Court o're again to their old Parents; as for the foul act which you charge me with, and call a Rape, Hersilia's self, whose every sillable's a sacred truth, can purge that scandal.

Hers.

Yes; Heaven and I can Witness, so can Feliciana, that 'twas no force but a confederate plot 'twixt my lov'd Lord and me I knew too well how little kind my Father was to all the Romans, how vile∣ly he has spoke of their original, and the Asylum, with reason therefore my Lord and I despair'd of his assent, and us'd this means to Crown our loves: Are your demands then just or Honourable that seek to make a Husband quit his Wife?

Host.

Restore Hersilia? Did he not say e're while restore Her∣silia? No, I will first my self fight your whole Army, take all the wounds ten thousand swords can give me, challenge every weapon in all your Camp to do its office here, Cut, Gash, and mangle every part about me, till there's not left one place to make a wound on, and I at last drown in a Sea of my own blood, e're you shall have Hersilia.

Feli.

(aside)

Sure he mistakes the name, he shoud have said Feliciana; my love woud have it so. How happy had I been, if this concern, this high excess of favour had appeared for me, but now how wretched; O I shall faint, conduct me, sweet Cornelia, to my Chamber.

[Exit.

Rom.

Your friendship, dear Hostilius, carries you beyond your temper; my cause too far transports you.

Cur.

If these be your resolves, I have command to tell you, War must force the right which you deny us.

Rom.

If we must fight, where we had rather Love, and use those arms to kill which should embrace, know Curtius we are ready either way: Nor let your Sabines think to find our courage less than our love successful. We know the way to make your Men as well as Women Captive. Tarpeius see him safe without the walls: Farewel Sir.

Host.

Since you demand to have Hersilia back, I am no Man of words, I cannot argue whether the thing be just which you demand, but if you are brave meet me in the next skirmish, and then like Men and Soulders we'l dispute it. This if you dare.—

Cur.

I smile at these last words; I dare do more than I dare speak, I am a Coward in my boasting. I long to meet you, Sir, till then I am your Servant.

[Exit Cur. and Tarpeius.

Tarp.

Gallantly answered, and with temper; me∣thinks I love him for't, I wish I were a Sabine Maid, or he a Roman.

Aside.

Rom.

Come my Hersilia, while we have you, we cannot doubt the fate of Rome; Fortune and Victory must act for us, having

so dear a pledge: The love inspired

By you, a stronger power and more assistance brings To our Triumphant cause, than all the aid, I justly may expect from Mars my Father. Then how successless must the Sabines prove Opposing both the Gods of War, and Love.

[Ex. all but Hostilius.

Host.

But more successless I, who fight against Two such almighty passions as Love and Friendship: Ye Gods! What have I done to merit such a torment? While these two Heavenly flames strive in my breast, 'Tis hell to me: I'am damn'd in the contest. But why shou'd I look on, as unconcern'd While Civil War within me rends me peice-meal; No, I will be a Monarch o're my self, And crush the Rebels. Away thou soft seducer Love, Tyrant and Traytor; I am a Roman, And will keep my Friendship sacred. Who can offend in thought, so sweet a Friend As is the Mighty Romulus? How blind is real kindness, He cou'd not see my Passion for Hersilia, When my love raved but thought it his concern: O innocent obliging Goodness! I wish The Sword of Curtius, when we shall meet, May find a way to revenge Romulus, And peircing this offending bosome, end Those thoughts that dared to injure such a friend.

[Exit.

ACT. II.

Scena Prima.

A Field before the Walls of Rome. Drums and Trumpets.

Enter Curtius and other Sabines.

Cur.

I Would not have this skirmish grow into a Battle, Ho, Lausus, Bid those Rutilian succours halt till further Orders.

1. Sab.

The Romans, Sir, draw from their works apace▪

Cur.

No matter, I know they are too brave To use their odds,— O are you come Sir.

Enter Hostilius and other Romans.

Host.

(To his party)

Stand here; approach no nearer As you respect your lives.

Cur.

(To his)

Withdraw to the same distance, And leave me single to my Generous Enemy.

Host.

Curtius, I see you are Noble and dare be brave; I ought in Justice then to ask your Pardon, That I e're questioned it: they were rash words, And I repent 'em.

Cur.

Spare your Apologies. First try what truth Is in the appearance. If I indeed have Courage, You may have cause enough, Sir, to repent, But if you find me shrink chastize me for it.

Host.

The same for me—Come, Sir, this is for Romulus The best of Men, and sweet Hersilia's cause.

[They fight, and pause.

Cur.

Sure Hostilius, you but dally, and hardly think me Such an Enemy as may deserve you utmost force. Know then if you are Romulus Champion, I am his secret Rival. I love Hersilia, Tho she her self yet never knew it, And with so strong a Passion, That were not Tatius for this war; should he Forget his Daughter, yet I my self Would raise an Army to redeem my Mistress, This sure will make you fight in earnest.

Host.

Unhappily discovered! O, I am wounded In the most tender part about me; thou hast Unkindly rob'd me of my Honour; That which I late design'd my dear Friends quarrel Is now my own; my boasted Friendship, spight Of all my reason, basely yeilds to love, The near extinguished flame rages again, Now I have found a Rival. Hold Curtius; Let me reward your secret with a another, That's yet unknown to all the world; I love Hersilia, (I wish I cou'd not say) Equal to Romulus; and if my flame So hardly yeild to what I owe to him, The Good, the Great, the God-born Romulus, How can I hear thy Claim? Have at thy heart.

Cur.

Guard well thy own, Hostilius, my heart can know No wounds; but what Hersilia gave,

[Fight, both Wounded.

Cur.

How just and how invincible so e're, You think your cause, I see, 'twill not protect you: You are not invulnerable. You can bleed, As well as I.

Host.

It is my glory, Curtius! I never loved my blood till now, that it appears So ready to be spent in her dear cause For whom I have it. Flow, flow for ever You immortal Fountains; the streams you see, O Sabine, Are not the Ebbs of life but springs of love.

Cur.

That shall be thus determined:—

[Fight.

1. Sab.

Should we stand here and see the noble Curtius Fight to death?

2. Sab.

It is not reason, His life's not all his own but partly ours.

1. Rom.

See, yonder Sabines move to assist their Leader: We must not see the brave Hostilius fall opprest by number.

[The Soldiers draw to their Principals, and all engage.

Enter Romulus.

Rom.

My Friend engaged and wounded; it was a lucky Chance that brought me to this quarter.

[He engages; the Sabines beaten off.

Host.

Ill timed assistance! had not he appear'd Either I might have kill'd or dyed; Fortune I cannot thank thee for this kindness.

[Aside.

Rom.

Still brave and still in noble danger, why Are you so covetous of Honour, Friend, As thus to steal it from your Romulus, And not acquaint me with the envy'd purchase? Why that emphatick sigh? I know 'tis not your wounds.

Host.

A wound how deep soever, was never worth it. But these are slight.

Rom.

Slight as they are, I'le urge the cause no further Till I have seen 'em drest,—

Host.

I'de rather make 'em wider; why do we not Pursue the Enemy? Let me but once again Engage with Curtius, and I will never ask Another favour.

Rom.

You shall not go—

[Holds him.

I never us'd my power upon my friend till now: Indeed you shall not go.

Host.

Under how greivous a restraint am I, Who can with pleasure neither live nor dye?

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Pallace.

Enter Tarpeia, Portia.

Port.

WHat a sad sight Tarpeia have we had From yonder Tarrace? The memory still afflicts me. Methinks it is a most undecent thing, To see brave men, whom nature sure ordain'd For better ends, and more to her advantage, Like Tygers fight and wory one another.

Tarp.

You tremble Portia, that which chills your blood Has heated mine to noble Emulation, Had I been man I had not stood with you, Idle spectator of the brave engagement But run among 'em, wild, to the thickest action.

Port.

Sure you but jest, can any woman have Thoughts so extravagant—

Tarp.

Nature as wrong'd me when she made me Woman: Or else when I was form'd, she heedless and hastily, Snatch't the next Soul for me, and left my Sex Imperfect.

Port.

Love is our Province, Women know no Wars, But of the passions: Hope, Fear, soft desires, Sorrows and suddain joys, make all our Battels. Happy are you Tarpeia, since your heart, Thus arm'd, seems proof against that passion Which kills, and even damns so many of us.

Tarp.

Wou'd it were so, my Portia, as you fancy.— But waveing this, I prithee tell me freely, Which you esteem the most deserving Men, Our Romans or your Sabines?

Port.

Ay this I like indeed, I'de rather talk Of gallant Men, than see 'em fight and kill.— By Iuno, then Tarpeia, I esteem Your Roman Meen; it speaks a Soul more great, A finer shape, a face more pleas'd, a look More amorous than ours.

Tarp.

Come, this is all but Complement to me. Methinks your Sabines much excel our Men, Solid, Majestical, of such a look As speaks 'em truly just, and even tempered, More noble than to give a wrong, but when

Received, duly requiting.

Port.

Call 'em severe, Tarpeiu, and revengeful. O did you know how strict they guard their Women, Seldome or never seen abroad, but at A Sacrifice or publick Rites to Heaven: Thus Tatius kept his Daughters, a Man so just He knows no mercy.—

Tarp.

—But what of Curtius, prithee?

Port.

You have named the only he of all our Nation, Thats like a Man indeed, such as I'de have him: Young, Courtly, Brave, well made, and Noble born, Mighty obliging, and of as mighty Courage.

Tarp.

She reads my closer thoughts, before she spake My Soul had fram'd this Character of Curtius.

[aside.

Port.

But for that one we have a world of others, Who though indu'd with vertue upon vertue, Are yet of such a sullen gravity, And so morosely wise you'd think 'em out Of humour with the world, yet more contented In a small House and Garden, than Kings in Courts.

Tarp.

But Curtius—

Port.

Seems more a Roman, than a Sabine; he Scorns the low thoughts of dull Philosophy; And since the Gods gave him a Princes Soul, He overlooks the fate of a Plebeian,— Rome, Rome must Rule the World! it can't be otherwise, Since she alone can shew a thousand such. I fancy Romulus.—

Tarp.

More, more, of Curtius: I love to hear thee speak; You paint so prittily the Man your favour.

Port.

I favour him, Tarpeia? alas that needs not; He little values any of our favours. For he had never any Mistress yet; (At least, that we can guess) that's his chief fault.

Tarp.

I like this best of all; I have no Rival.

[aside.

Enter Cornelia, Singing.

Vse your Youth, use your Youth and happy hours, while they remain: Cheerfully, Cheerfully, while they are ours, the blessings entertain, For time once lost can ne're be found again. For time once, &c.

Tarp.

See Portia, see, how unconcern'd she seems, Careless of fate while the alarms of war, Or feircer love, disquiet all her Sex. Have you no heart Cornelia?

Cor.

Not to admit of love, or fear, Tarpeia: The Boy-God never dar'd to wound my breast: And if I'me arm'd against a God, why should I fear a Souldier,—Portia the Queen asks for you.

Port.

Then we must part: Farewel Tarpeia.

[Ex. Port. Cor.

Tarp.

Farewell; farewel Conelia, ah happy Girl, In her own Childish innocence secure; She never dreams the smart which I endure.

[Exit

SCENE. III.

Romulus, Hostilius.

Rom.

HOW long, Hostilius, must I sue in vain, To know the cause why I am thus afflicted, That is, why you are thus afflicted? Cou'd I Have kept a secret from my Friend so long? Cou'd I have let him beg so long for that Which should be his without so much as asking? (For every Friend, or is, or ought to be A confident) nor shou'd I care to know it, But only in design to ease your sorrow; Had you a secret cause of joy, I shou'd Not then have importuned you for it. Why stand you thus, silent, and almost senseless, As you wou'd say, I cannot answer what You urge, and will not what you ask?

Host.

O worthyest of Mankind! O Prince too good To be my Friend! I wou'd not have you love, But pitty me, and let me still be silent.

Rom.

I cannot, must not, dare not, suffer it, Good Hostilius.—

Host.

Then you will not pitty me, I see I must appear foul and unworthy In denying, or still more foul and more Unworthy in Confessing. O mistaken goodness! When you shall see my Soul naked and bare,

Of all its silent vernish, when you have stript Off the disguise, you'l find so base an object, So poor and so degenerate a Roman. And such a Monster of abused Friendship, You'l start at the discovery, and curse me for it.

Rom.

Who but Hostilius, durst have said this of Hostilius? Or do you aime th' unworthy Character, At some less dear and less deserving Roman?

Host.

I do not know another Roman that deserves it. No Sir, tis I: I am the unworthy owner.

Rom.

Come all this is false, and feign'd to put me off: I see through your pretences, if will not do Hostilius; and I must know your discontent.

Host.

Suppose then— (For such a Crime, from one oblig'd like me Ought not to be discover'd but by supposition) Suppose I had agreed with Tatius, To give the City up, betray the Army, And make my Friend his Prisoner—.

Rom.

I could forgive it.

Host.

Suppose I had designed, prompted by my Ambition, To stab my Friend basely, and when ungarded, Usurp his Crown, and make my self the head of Rome—

Rom.

Tis all impossible, but still I should forgive it.

Host.

Higher yet: Suppose I love Hersilia, Your, your Hersilia, love her to enjoy her, For that dear end, suppose I'de be a Traytor, A Devil; repine and covet those sweet joyes, Which only you can merit, envy all The Heaven which you possess in her embraces. How say you now? Now am not I a Villian?

Rom.

No, but a foul desembler of a foul, false scandal, Do not I know Hostilius? I'me sure he cannot Think a Crime like these; I know he cannot, Since my Remus dyed, I never had so near a Friend; Remus and I, Were not such Twins in blood, as we two in Affection. Are not we Aeneas and Achates?

Host.

Tis true, I know you are God born like him, As good, as great a friend as he; you are The more Divine Aeneas: But where is now, Faithful Achates? O I am not worthy.

I must confess all that I said was false, But that which most concern'd you; I love Hersilia: Aye, there it is, that strikes the very root Of friendship; now I'me sure you can't forgive me, Nor is it fit you should, I can't forgive my self. As good and God like as you are you shou'd Not stand unmov'd thus, like a Temple Idol; But draw and sheath your Sword here in this breast, That dar'd to harbour such injurious passion: Come, Sir, you see how wide my bosome opens To receive your Justice; I'le meet your Sword, And pull it home with my own hands,— Are you still motionless? I shall not think You love Hersilia as you ought, unless You kill me.

Rom.

A Friend, who can confess offending thoughts And, like you, hate 'em, e're they grow to action, Pleading against himself, with so much Rigour, Is still a friend. Our inclinations Are not at our Election; but he, that can Like you govern his rebel thought by the Strict rules of Justice and true reason, Ought to be lov'd, and honoured as a King. Be reconciled Hostilius to your self, For you are still as dear to me as ever: Hostilius's Honour and Hersilia's Vertue, Admit no Jealous scruples.

Host.

Is this your Sentence on Hersilia's Lover! Do you thus treat a Rival? unheard of friendship! Mark then what I decree with better Justice, For my own Penance. Since you now have known How false my passions are, how strong that love That ought not to be nam'd; to free you of suspicion I'le leave your Rome, for voluntary Exile, And never see again my Romulus, nor his Hersilia.

Rom.

Must I be punisht then, because you say You have offended; must I lose so dear A Friend, because that Friend thinks he had wronged me? We will not part, I'le lose an eye before Hostilius; no, I will hazard all the ills His love can do me.

Host.

Will you out-rival me in Honour too?

Will you not let me have that Mistress free? O, you are cruel;— If you were kind you would not keep me here, Ever in sight of Heaven, yet in a state Of such Damnation, I cannot hope (Nor ought I) to enjoy it.

Rom.

I'le woe Hersilia to smile upon you; I know she will for my sake,—

Host.

I dare not trust my self before her smiles, They will unhinge my vertue, besides A smile, tho much above my merit, yet to A love like mine, gives little satisfaction,— And yet she ought not to give more,—and yet,— O I am wild, the more I think of this The more I am confounded. Thus low I beg

[Kneels.

You'd let me leave you. By all the tyes Of friendship; by all the love you owe Hersilia, allow my absence; for only that Can cure my phrenzy:

Rom.

To beg with such concern is to command, Where the request is to a love like mine. If you will go Hostilius, you have your liberty; But let this dear embrace, and this, convince you, That when we separate, you carry with you The better half of your lov'd Romulus.

Host.

Witness, sweet Heavens, with what constraint I leave him! No cause but one cou'd make so sad divorce. To be a Friend, I leave my Friend for ever. I'le now to unfrequented Woods, and seek To lose Mankind; for after Romulus, Who wou'd know other Men? and who wou'd see A Woman that hath once known Hersilia? Farewel thou God of Friendship; once more Farewel.

[Embrace.

I go imperfect, You keep back my heart: With such a groan the Soul and body part.

[Exit.

Rom.

He's gone. O sacred power of Love! was e're affection Like this of his? to quit his Mistress, for his Friend, Nay more, to quit both Friend and Mistress rather Than injure me? O truly Noble Roman! Who can his passion in due terms express? Had he not loved amiss, his love were less.

Enter Hersilia and Feliciana, Attendants.

Feli.

Why did you bring me hither Sister? Here's no Hostilius.

Hers.

Wou'd you have dyed in silence! Shou'd I let you Weep by your self, till I had lost my Sister, And in a Fountain full of Maiden tears Found all the poor remains of my Feliciana. You must not grieve so much, indeed you shall not: Do not I stand engaged to make you happy?

Feli.

Softly, for Heavens sake: Your Lover's there, I would not he shou'd hear you for the world.

Rom.

My dear Hersilia! O my only comfort, I have a Pitious tale to tell my Love, Hostilius my best friend, is now my Rival.

Hers.

Hostilius?

Rom.

Yet so admir'd a Friend he still remains, That to secure my love, and ease his own, He hath forsaken Rome, and given himself To a perpetual Exile.—

Feli.

(aside)

Heart hold a little: Life do not yet forsake me: The other killing word, and then farewel.

Rom.

I'le borrow a few minutes of my Love To view the works, and give abroad new orders, And then you shall have all the wondrous story.

[Exit.

Hers.

Feliciana! Sister! do but here me, O she faints—

[Feliciana faints back into one of her Womens Armes.

Cornelia, Portia, Cloe, Give all you help here quickly: O she's gone! The fatal news was too too rough, her ear Too tender to endure it: Bend, Bend her forward; Give her more air: kind Heavens she comes again.

Feli.

O too unkind, O cruel Romulus, Was it not death enough for him to tell me Hostilius loves my Sister— But he must kill me o're again and say, He's gone for ever? Why do you thus torment me? Why do you shew me Rome again, and not Hostilius in it? But I will follow him. If he be yet in this vexatious world, I'le find my Love, or lose my self in searching,

If to the world below he be retir'd, I shall be there almost as soon as he; The way is easie thither, and I can't miss it.

Hers.

Conduct her gently to repose Cornelia. What a surprizing turn was this? Poor Sister? I have engaged beyond performance for her. Ye Gods, that favour innocence, be kind; Keep her wits safe, and cure her troubled mind.

[Exeunt.

ACT. III.

SCENE I.

Scene, the Sabine Camp.

Enter Tarpeia in Mans Apparel.

Tarp.

FOrgive me Maiden shame, that in this Habit I seek to ease a Passion, for whose sake The Gods have taken, more undecent formes. Yet still I am resolv'd to keep my Honour Safe and entire, I would but see him once Again, and then farewell the thought for ever.

Enter a Centry.

Cent.

Stand and reveal your self; who are you there? From whence, and whither going?

Tarp.

I come from Rome, my business to Lord Curtius. If you can bring me Soldier to his presence, Take this and this for expedition.

Cent.

Gold as I live; if that be all, Sir, follow me.

[Exeunt.

Enter Curtius.

Cur.

Hard fate of Lovers! The wounds that I receiv'd From that Hostilius, far less afflict me Than to discover that he is my Rival; In vain, I fear, have I procur'd this War Of Tatius, in vain, did I exasperate The good old Prince against his Daughters Lover,

And vilified the Noble Romulus, If thus the Roman Hydra, Love, produces New heads to be cut off before we Conquer. Think Curtius, think in time, not only how To gain Hersilia, but to save thy Honour.

Enter Soldier.

Sold.

A Youth attends without from Rome, he sayes He has affairs to you, and prays admittance.

Cur.

Let him Enter, and do you withdraw.

[Exit Sol.

Enter Tarpeia.

Tarp.

Would I were off again; now I should speak, Heavens! how I am confounded?

[Aside.

Cur.

Would you with me, young Roman?

Tarp.

I am imploy'd Sir, from the Sabine Ladies, Now Roman Wives, Hersilia and—

Cur.

Oh speak that Name again, sweet youth, and win My Soul for ever! Is this Hersilia's message, And to me?—There's Musick in thy voice.

Tarp.

(aside)

What means this transport? The happy lye, it seems, Is well accepted.—Hersilia, Sir, and all Your other Sabine Beauties now in Rome, Have bid me tell you, and by you, Tatius; Since the kind ties of Love are stricter far Than those of blood, they cannot leave their Husbands; Nor will they ever think of coming back: If by your Armes (which yet they cannot fear) You conquer Rome, and make 'em yours again, You'l force their wills, and do a fouler Rape, Than that which brought 'em thither.

Cur.

Unkind!—thou art a cunning and dissembling Boy; Fie on such early falshood. Wou'd any one But such a smoothdeceitful thing as you, Have rais'd my hopes, to glorious Expectations, And so soon dash 'em all again to nothing? Away then Syren-Traytor;

Tarp.

Would I had never seen him, O I love him more than ever:—

[Aside.

Cur.

And is this all you have in charge?

Tarp.

No my Lord, I bring you news of Love.

Cur.

The Villain mocks me!

Tarp.

By all the Gods—kill me if I dissemble—

Cur.

O Venus, shou'd this be from dear Hersilia! Love find your eyes again, but this short minute And be hereafter blind for ever,

(aside.)

—Tell me Thou Charming Boy; tell me, my better Genius, What is the sweet Intelligence: Speak, while A thousand Cupids hovering in the air Snatch at thy words, and bear 'em, all perfum'd, About the Heavens.

Tarp.

Oh I am ruin'd now beyond all cure: His tender words strike through my very Soul.

[Aside.

Cur.

Will you not speak? Why will you torture me With these delayes?

Tarp.

Whither will this tumultuous passion drive me? Now I am in, it thrusts me headlong on; And bids me stop at nothing:—

[Aside.

The Love, my Lord, comes from a Roman Lady, My unhappy Sister.—

Cur.

Tis gone again the empty shaddow leaves me, Thy fortune Curtius laughs at all thy wishes, And scorns thy Expectation.—

[Aside.

Tarp.

She saw you Sir, when you was last at Rome. You came, she saw you there, and was o'recome. Since as a Captive to your Name and merits, She knows no joyes, but what must come from you. Yet is she Noble born, and for her Beauty Natures not in her debt, nor Fortune for estate: 'Tis she that sent me now to let you know All her Command and interest in the City, You may dispose of.

Cur.

Hah, this may be of use to my designes.—

[Aside.

Must I not know her name?

Tarp.

When you shall please first to discover, Sir, Whether your heart be free of other love.

Cur.

I am as free as air.—Forgive me truth! Forgive me more Divine Hersilia!—

[Aside.

Now, Sir, her Name?

Tarp.

Tarpeia.

Cur.

Her Father has Command o're the West-Gate,—

Tarp.

He has, my Lord, and she as his Lieutenant.

Cur.

This is exceeding lucky,—

[Aside.

Tell the dear Creature, your adored Sister, I am all hers; but know not if I have Enough of interest with her to demand One real favour.—

Tarp.

O speak, my Lord, I have a full Commission; What e're I grant, she will confirm with joy.

Cur.

Be sure of what you say; I may perhaps Demand a kindness of too great a value: And yet I would not hazard a denyal—

Tarp.

Be bolder Sir, I'me sure you cannot ask What she can scruple,— Come Sir, what is the mighty tryal?

Cur.

It is indeed a tryal of her Love; Which if she grants, her passion if as mighty, And well deserves my Love, my Life, my Soul— But still I'm not assur'd that she will do't, And I can't ask in vain.

Tarp.

My love grows wild! I know not how to blush: O fatal hour—

[Aside.

By Venus and her Son! By all the Oaths Man can invent, you cannot ask that thing—

Cur.

Hold; I beleive you Sir. Now I'le demand With confidence; I ask, or rather beg That she'd deliver up her Gate To my possession—

Tarp.

You had reason Sir, indeed; so long to question Whether it wou'd be granted: Who cou'd suspect That your request shou'd be of such a Nature? Do Men demand of Maids that would oblige 'em Favours like this? How e're since my engagement Has run so high, and her Love, much, much higher, It shall be done; with only this condition, That when she gives the Gate to you, you then Shall give your self to her, for ever,—

Cur.

With Justice: O I will Love her, Marry her, Adore her, had she no other merits; She shall be my everlasting Mistress,— Give her from me, lov'd Youth, this Ring, pledg of My heart; and this, this dearer kiss. My Soul's On torture till I see Tarpeia,—Hark Be this the hour, and this the word.

Whispers.

Tarp.

Enough: I'le cause a Souldier to attend your motion, Beyond the Counterscarp, exactly at the minute.

Cur.

Wee'l lose no time: I'le go immediately, And form a party, and give abroad new orders:— Another kiss to my dear Mistress, and then Farewel,— I come Hersilia! I am false for you; Forgive me sacred Honour.

[Aside.

[Exit Curtius.

Tarp.

What have I done? Betray'd my City and my Honour too. Unhappy answer. But what is the reward? The Noble Curtius Love. For his dear sake I'de do it o're again: Betray a hundred Romes As many worlds,—where hast thou lost thy self Tarpeia? Is this a Roman mind? O I am ruin'd! Yet since I have begun I must go through, And will; the Dye is cast, what e're event Succeeds, fear now is causless, or too late. Was this to see him once, and only see him? Wou'd I had never made this fatel Journy: O cursed Female curiosity, Thou hast demn'd half my Sex, and half demn'd me!

[Exit.

SCENE II. The Pallace.

Hersilia, Portia Cloe,

Hers.

Is my dear Romulus still absent, does he Not yet return? Sure he forgets Hersilia: I cou'd not be so very long from him. Portia, how long is it since my Lord parted?

Port.

Scarce an hour, Madam.

Hers.

An hour, O false dissembler! It is a day, a year, an age to me. How many ages does one hour contain, When Lovers part! something sits heavy here; O Portia, Cloe, help me to remove it: A case of Lead claps round about my heart, So cold and heavy. Avert the Omen heaven: What means this sudden darkness? Do you not Perceive it?

Cloe.

No Madam, 'tis as light to us as ever.

Hers.

Tis night then in my eyes; and well it may Since they can find no pleasing object here. How can I view my Sister drown'd in tears? Tears that would soften Rocks: How can I hear Her tender innocent heart break with more groans Than come from a whole Army dying? Can I with patience suffer this, and yet My Romulus, my only comfort, absent?

Port.

Be less afflicted, Madam: Why shou'd you make Your fate worse than it is, why shou'd you meet The evil hour and help it forward, thus? Misfortune is too quick in her approaches:— Feliciana cannot long continue In this condition, and for the King, We know, he's prosperous and well, and not Far distant.

Hers.

O Portia, Portia! my ill boding thoughts Carry but too much reason— I had the other night a fatal dream; Which tho I slighted then, it now returns Fresh to my memory with all its terrours,— Methought my Romulus and I wandred alone A long a Meadow, near the silver Tiber; Millions of flowers, and numberless their colours, Both by their odour and delightful object, Inviting us to rest on the soft Verdure, We sate; and in a wanton emulation, Culling the guady treasure of the Mead, We deckt each others head and bosome with 'em, Mixing for every flower as many kisses.

Cloe.

Thus far 'tis kind; a meer Elizian dream.

Hers.

True Cloe: But that which follows dismal— The cruel River, envyous of our Loves, Swell'd o're his banks, with such a sudden floud We cou'd not possibly avoid its fury: In vain I call'd for help, in vain I strove To save my dear Lords life, as vainly he To save my dearer life, despised his own, At last, both tyred with ineffectual pains, We sunk and dyed Embracing.

Port.

It has indeed a sad conclusion, Madam,

But dreams, they say, have a quite different meaning From what they promise; we may then conclude Much joy from this, because it seems unhappy.

Hers.

Away, and do not flatter me to ruine. There's but one way I know to turn the Omen, I'le expiate the fatal dream from my sick fancy.— Hast to the Temple, Cloe, bid the Preist Prepare the due Lustrations instantly.

[Ex. Cloe.

When I have cleans'd my self of this foul dream I'le Sacrifice to all the Genial Powers, That favour Nuptial Vow's and vertuous Love, For Romulus, my self, and hapless Sister.—

Port.

Heaven cannot be unheedful of such merrits, VVhen fair Hersilia prays the Gods must hear, Her vertue takes by force what they can give.

Hers.

Prophane impertient, I merit nothing, Yet sure they'l hear me, tho it only be For Romulus, and poor Feliciana,— Come Portia, let us follow to the Temple,

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Fort in Rome.

Romulus, Spuruis Tarpeius.

Rom.

I Like your diligence, Tarpeius, well: You keep your Forts well Man'd, and in good order. The Enemy can never force us here.

Tarp.

I wou'd not live too see that fatal hour, VVhen all my faculties of soul and body, Shou'd not appear continually imploy'd To do my Prince and Country their best service,

Rom.

Spoke like a worthy Souldier, and true Roman. Oh, Tarpeius, how great a loss have I? VVere it not for my dear Hersilia, VVho still remains, this world had nothing in it VVorth a mans living for. My friend! my friend!

Tarp.

Hostilius?

Rom.

VVho but Hostilius?

Tarp.

He is not dead?

Rom.

To me and Rome he is, or rather we Are dead without him, he was the very soul

Of friendship, life of Love, and the true Sun Of Noble action. O! he has left us now Tarpeius, but in so generous a manner, That even his absence speaks more love to me Than all the ever dear Remembrance Of his past actions, sumn'd together.—Hah! VVhat suddain noise is this?

[A noise without, clashing of Swords, and crying Treason, &c.

Enter a Souldier bloody.

Sold.

O save your self betimes, great Sir; away, Or you are lost for ever, the Forts betray'd: The out-Guard, corrupted by some treacherous Devil, Let in the Enemy, who pouring on us VVith treble numbers, cut to peices all That will not yeild to mercy—

Rom.

Tarpeius!—

Tarp.

I cannot answer Sir, to your too just Suspitions, but I can dye to shew I am no Villain—

(Draws—)

I abhor their favour. And scorn my life, since it is now unuseful

[Is going to fall on his Sword.

Rom.

Hold— If you are Loyal as you'd make me think, VVhy shou'd not we two beat a thousand Traytors. Second me—

[Draws.

Enter Curtius and Souldiers.

Cur.

Romulus here! Fortune thou art too kind! I have not only won the stake intended, But got a By more worth than all the City,

Rom.

Stay degenerate, Sabine: Base as thou art to gain advantage by Unmanly Treason, you have not yet Subdu'd the Fort, while I am here and can Command a Sword, you'l find one Romulus More than a hundred narrow soul'd Plebeians.

Tarp.

Nor shall my Prince engage or fall alon He still has left one Souldier who desires No greater Glory than to dye thus, Fighting by his dear side, for whom he lived.

Cur.

(To Rom.)

I know you have been always brave, and now Are desperate: I know you both wou'd die Like Souldiers fighting; but you shall not—

Take 'em alive, and disarm the Mad-men,

[To his Soldiers.

[They all fight, Rom. and Tarp. are incompass'd and disarm'd.

Convey 'em now to stricter Guards, and keep 'em several.

Rom.

Poor and ignoble! Thou art below a Man: I scorn to lose my words on such a Brute.

[Rom. and Tarp. are led off.

Cur.

Be it your Province, Fabius, to acquaint The General with our success: Tell him That I desire he would be with us quickly: Tell him the Cities all alarm'd and the Streets barricado'd, yet if he lose no time Ther's such confusion, they cannot possibly Hold long against us; but delay is fatal— Away with speed: Fly—

[Ex. Soldiers.

Did he not say I am below a Man, Poor and ignoble? Is that my Character? Too true, alas, I find it,— Thou hast too much of reason, Noble Roman. Methinks I hate my self, for the vile office. And yet I Love Hersilia to madness: To gain that mighty prize, I must be deaf: To the nice rule of honour, made by fools, Thus I must win her or for ever lose her.

Enter Tarpeia in her own Apparel.

Tarp.

My Lord the Fort is now intirely yours, and all The Guards secur'd. Yet still there does remain One dear Command that waits for your possession.

Cur.

Where? Shew me the place—

Tarp.

'Tis no part of the works, but she that did Command 'em. Be not so strange my Love, 'tis I, that made The Fortress yours, wait to be yours my self. Come my brave Conquerour: My greater Mars, Receive those Joyes from me which Venus gave Her God of war, when he arriv'd at Paphos— What means this silence, sure you do not know me. I am Tarpeia: She that gave you all You now possess in Rome, her Fathers Gate, Her Father, self, and honour, yet thinks not all Too dear to buy your Love,—Sure now you know me.

Cur.

Yes I do know you, Madam, you have given more Than I indeed cou'd hope, and still wou'd more Than I desire.

[Coldly.

Tarp.

How, Sir, have you already lost The memory of your late vows? Is it so long Since you obliged your self, (if words have force) On the condition, which you now possess, To make me yours by Marriage? Am not I The same Tarpeia still?

Cur.

You are; but I Not the same Curtius. Your beauty is your blemish, And what you urge for merit shews you foul, I cannot love a Traytress.

Tarp.

Let me hear this from Rome, and from my Father, From you it is inhumane! I cou'd endure your Sword With better ease, kill me, and expiate thus The Crime of too much Love.

Cur.

Kill you? I wou'd not be so base to rule The world: No, live, live to repent your shame But do not think of me, I cannot Love And therefore will not marry.

Tarp.

Thunder is musick in my ears to this— Thou most unkind yet best beloved of Men What have I done to be so soon forgotten?

[Weeps.

Are my obleigments less by being acted? Has some Serene blasted my Maiden beauty? Am I grown old oth' sudden, my eyes dead My cheeks all withered, nothing of the Rose Left there, but wrinckles?—Come my Lord, I know This is not real, you do but try my temper,— When will you smile?

Cur.

I am in earnest, do not torment your self Or me, with further pleading, your words are lost.

Tarp.

Are neither words nor tears of force to make you kind? Look Sir, a Lady kneels, thus low, She sues to you, she for whose Love of late, The bravest Youth of Rome have sued in vain.

Cur.

Hersilia, may not this deserve you? who But I cou'd have neglected such an object?

[Aside.

Tarp.

Thou Rock! thou more inflexible than destiny! Say, cruel man, if it becomes thee well To see a Loving Lady kneel so long, Any yet—and yet, not raise her.

Cur.

Pray rise—

Tarp.

Shall I, to your affection? will you Love me?

Cur.

No; I cannot.

Tarp.

Then I wil grow a Statue, and kneeling thus Be an eternal Monument of your injustice,

Cur.

Pray leave me, and forget me ever; hence forth I will endeavour never to see you more.

Tarp.

Never to see me more, O perjur'd man! False as the winds and Seas, which every minute Alters! Thou rude Babarian! A Roman wou'd Have sooner dyed, than thus, have wrong'd one of my Sex.

Cur.

This is too much for man to hear unmov'd, Something within pricks at my heart, I feel It made of flesh—

[Aside.

Tarp.

Have I for this betray'd My Country, Father, nay by the event, my Prince, And made the sweet Hersilia a Widdow?

Cur.

Ha! that name revives me, and clears up all The clouds of pity, that begun to geather—

[Aside.

How long will you torment me? Leave for shame To be impertinent, unwelcome Woman.

Tarp.

Wilt thou not break with this? O heart, too, too Induring.

[Still on the ground and weeping.

Enter Tatius.

Tat.

Your Messenger has told me, Curtius, Of your success, and how you are successful: I like the event, but disaprove the means: 'Tis base to gain by Treason: But since 'tis done, We must not lose the advantage.— What Woman's this, and why in such a posture?

Cur.

Neglect her Sir, she is not worth your knowledge.

Tarp.

O do me justice, Sir, if you Command The Sabines, shew your self fit for rule and do me Justice.

Tat.

Rise, and now speak with assurance; shou'd your cause, Concern my self, I'de do you right severely.

Tarp.

I am the unhappy Daughter of Tarpeius, I need not tell you that he held this Fort, Till I betray'd it to this perjured Man, Who now denys me his dear purchased Marriage.

Tat.

Thou hast condemn'd thy self, unworthy Maid. Why should you hope that Faith or Love from him Which you deny'd your Father and your Country! A Traytors Sentence shou'd be your, in Justice 'Tis mercy lets you live, and gives you freedom—

Shew me the works, and then to Romulus.

[To Curtius.

[Exit Tatius, Curtius.

Tarp.

Slighted, despised, unpityed, and is this All the reward the Sabines give for treason? O curst deceiver, curst be the hour I saw him; And curst be I for seeing! O damn'd, damn'd Love That found out such a Villain! but this is idle; So are all words; blood and revenge inspire me, Something I'le do to cleanse my sully'd name, Or with my life lose all the the sense of shame.

[Exit.

ACT. IV.

SCENE I. A Prison.

Romulus Solus.

THE world and I should be at even terms, Weary of one another, wear it not for My dear Hersilia: While she is here I cannot think of dying: My Heaven's in Rome. 'Tis she that holds my hand, and bids me live, Or else I'le quickly give my self the freedom, Which these false Sabines have deny'd me.—Ha! Do I dream waking? Or am I really asleep And fancy this fair vision, like Hersilia?

Enter Hersilia.

Hers.

My dearest Lord! are you not much surprized,

[Embracing.

Rom.

Extreamly, almost as much surprized as pleased,

Hers.

Ill news has wings: I soon heard this misfortune. Twas death to me to be a minute from you. Attended by one Servant only, I flew hither, Some small acquaintance, and a greater bride Open'd the Guard, and once again I see My Romulus, my life! but time admits Few words, you shall not dwell in this Confinement:

Rom.

Had you the Prison keys, I know I should not.

Hers.

Let us retire, and change our habits quickly: You shall return in mine, and leave me here.

Rom.

Never till now could I deny Hersilia; I must not now obey you, Sweet; nor Love, Nor honour will permit it, No, I will dye

A thousand deaths, a thousand several wayes Sooner than leave you here.

Hers.

I beg it.

Rom.

O do not beg that I should Love you less, Ask not so much injustice.

Enter Tatius, Curtius.

Tat.

Did you not say he was alone, how came This Woman with him?

[To Curtius.

Cur.

Ha! Hersilia? I am amaz'd.

[Aside.

Tat.

My Daughter here! Heavens, I am more successful, Than I expected,—Curtius the war is ended Nothing remains but Execution now, In those two Criminals.—Do you not feel A terrour at my sight, can I appear Less frightful, then your evil genius to ye! Have you forgot the injured Tatius, or The Crime which you so late committed?

Rom.

I never knew what terrour was; less now Than ever,— If it becomes you to insult on this Base gain'd advantage, it does not me to fear.

Tat.

It least of all becomes a Man of Honour, To do like Romulus; Ravish invited Maids, And then out-brave the Justice, that attends, The foul, false, treacherous act.

Rom.

Speak better of such acts since they are yours. You had not now been here, nor I compell'd To hear such Language, were it not for Treason. Tho you, I see, have lost your temper, Sir, I must not lose the due respect I owe Hersilia's Father, else I should tell you How falsly that it called a Rape, which was Consent, free and without Compulsion.

Tat.

That which you call consent, does not at all Make you less guilty, but my Daughter more. It shewes her to have been Confederate In her own Rape, a party in the Crime, Equally guilty with her Ravisher: And since by natures Law the Parent has An absolute Dominion, o're his issue, How cou'd she give her self away to any, And not rob me? this is your Sentence then,

(And were you both as dear to me as my two eyes, I wou'd not bate the rigour, of true Justice) Since you have both been actors in a Crime Abhorr'd by Nature, ye shall both die togeather. You for your Rape, You for your Disobedience.

Hers.

Both die, O cruel Father! Sir, I yeild To your just sentence on your Daughter: I know I have offended: much, much offended, In daring to bestow my Love without Your knowledge; nay, where I knew you hated. I'me very guilty, Sir, and over me, I know, you have the power of life and death, Use it freely. You have condemn'd me justly, But on my kees I beg, that I alone, May dye, and not the noble Romulus. 'T was I that moved him to the Rape you mention. Who would refuse a Ladies offer'd Love? Besides consider, Sir, he is a Prince, At least, your equal, his life's not in your power: The Law of Arms allows him to be ransom'd.

Rom.

Hear this you Goddesses, and take Example From a weak mortals Love! thou Miracle, Of Conjugal affection, why should you injure Your own innocence so highly, and all To favour one, who ought not to be pitty'd, Since he has been the occasion of your ruine?— 'Tis I, great Sir, 'tis I am only guilty; Take in my blood your full revenge, but spare The innocent; I gladly yeild to death, I'le quit you too from all aspertion, I'le say you are not cruel, not unjust, If she may live—

Tat.

My Sentence is irrevocable, And you have both confest enough to clear Me of injustice: You shall both die.

Rom.

Spare your own blood, Sir, Tygers will not prey On their own young one's; let it not be said By mourning Lovers, who shall hear this story. Hersilia, sweet Hersilia had no fault. But that she was the inhumane Tatius Daughter.

Hers.

O plead no more for me my d earest Husband, If you must die I will not live, without you.

'Twere cruelty to think it,—

(To Tatius)

Sir, I beseech you, Regard not what he says, if when he dies You will be so unkind to spare my life, I can find ways enough to follow him: Should you be still more cruel, and prevent me, Yet grief would quickly break my heart, in pity.

Tat.

It shall not need:—No, you shall die together. Trust me I am afflicted for you both, But I must grieve in silence; sacred Justice Is far more dear to me than my own life:— See the effects of Rash, unthinking Love! Take your eternal farewel of each other This hour is yours, the next you are no more. Curtius attend me.

[Exeunt Tat. Cur.

[Romulus and Hersilia remain silent a while.

Rom.

Tatius, (I cannot say your Father) Madam, Permits me the sad favour, e're we part, To take my everlasting farewel of you. But with what face can I approach Hersilia? Or with what eye can she behold the wretch Unto whose fatal Love she owes her ruine? O had you rather chosen a poor Cottage, Than my unhappy Pallace, a Sabine Shepheard Before the King of Rome, you had not then Known this sad change, nor I the sense of such A guilt, that wracks my very Soul to pieces.

Hers.

How long has Romulus lost that great Soul, Which he received from a Coelestial Father? For yielding thus to fate, sure he has lost it. Unduly shou'd we use, my dearest Lord, Those small remains of life, that still are left us By such ill tim'd complaints, as these, to whet That grief, which has but too much edge already. What have I done, that you shou'd think I value This severe turn of fortune, when compar'd To your dear Love? O banish the false thought. My passion sees in you something more great Than Crowns, something above the power of fate: 'Tis Romulus I Love, and not Dominion.

Rom.

Ye Gods! why should I live beyond this moment? Let me die pleas'd, now, now, before her feet, From whom I hear such words. When I consider

The never equall'd Love of my Hersilia, And what I lose, rage and despair possess me. What man can think that so Divine a Soul Must leave that fair abode, unjustly too, And in his heart at the same time not feel, Compassion sharper than the Tyrants Steel?

Hers.

Why shou'd you be concern'd, where I am not? I kiss my Sentence, whatsoever it be, To live or die, it is the same thing to me. Shou'd I appear to weep, Judge when I do; Whether those tears fall for my self or you.

Rom.

No more, my Love; O spare a breaking heart, You peirce my Soul in the most tender part. O rather flatter my credulity, Tell me to save your life, that I must die: If at that price your safety cou'd be bought, How blest were I! there's Heaven in such a thought?

Hers.

My Romulus is in his Love fevere, He'd be a God alone, and leave me here; Much kinder was my Father in that breath That spoke our fate; he Marry'd us in death. O happy, happy Sentence! when we die, With equal pace, we'l both ascend the skie: While, as we mount, Mortals, that see the Ray Of our United flames out-shine the day, Shall call us happy Lovers, envy us, And think no joyes of Love like dying thus.

Rom.

The Gods, the Gods invite us up, I know: Something within me sayes it must be so. Let us make haste my Love, and leave behind The names to which this world as been unkind: I will be thy Quirinus, thou shalt be Heber, the ever fair, and young to me. When seated in our new Coelestial state, How we shall smile at Tatius and his hate. All Romans with our favours we will bless, But be most kind to Lovers in distress.

Hers.

No mournful youth in vain shall shed a tear, No hapless Maid shall sigh, but we will hear.

Rom.

We'l ease their inward wounds, heal their despair, And against fate fight for the brave and fair.

Hers.

But where a matchless pair of Lovs I find

Wrong'd by a Parent, cruelly unkind, I'le her Hersilia call, him Romulus: We needs must favour them, for they are us.

Rom.

We wrong our selves, and all our joys delay, Let's seek out death, and meet fate half the way.

Hers.

Come my dear Lord—

[Taking his hand.

Thus Joyn'd we'l rise to a Divinity, 'Tis death to live, when 'tis so sweet to die.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Scene the Pallace in Rome. A Couch.

Cornelia, Cloe.

Cloe.

WHat's to be done, Cornelia? We are left Methinks like travellers, that lose their guides, Unknowing both the Language and the Country: Romulus they have made Captive, Hersilia Will have no Liberty without him, but gives her self To the same Prison freely; yet shou'd I tell Her Sister this, it would but more undoe her.

Cor.

Poor Lady! since Hostilius went from Rome, She is no longer she, we have lost her too.

Cloe.

I have a Captain, my most obedient servant, Tho I confess he does me little service, He being now continually on duty, I'de be content to lose my man for ever Could I but bring Hostilius back to give The harmless Maid her pretty wits again.

Cor.

In an ill hour the Romans have committed That which our Parents call a Rape, if thus Our, men themselves so soon are Ravisht from us.

Cloe.

But who Ravish't Hostilius? Nothing but his own Heroick Friendship, a shame take these Honourable intrigues, They cause more harm than good, all our misfortunes Are owing to his absence,

Cor.

Cloe, no more— See where she comes with such a pitty'd air, In her distracted innocence, that makes me weep to see her.

Enter Feliciana.

Feli.

Why did you tell me, Cornelia, that my Sister Is rid away behind Hostilius? Indeed you are to blame,

For tho I know, he does not love me, I'me sure Hersilia wou'd not do it for a kingdome. Yet were it true, cou'd you be so unkind To tell it me?

Cor.

I never said it, Madam.

Feli.

I ask your pardon heartily, Cornelia: It was not you indeed.—See where my Sister Stands yonder, sorting pretty Pinks, and Dasies, With Violets and yellow Crocus's, To make a wedding Garland for Hostilius, Yet will not give me one poor flower among 'em. No matter, I have Roses of my own Enough to strew me when I'm dead.

SINGS.

White as the Lilly will she lye When the foolish Maid shall die, For she carry'd with her, her Viginity: O fie, O fie.

—Is not that Cloe?

Cor.

Yes Madam.

Feli.

Then it is not my Sister, I knew so much Already, tho you think I know nothing.

Cloe.

When will you try to sleep dear Madam!

Feli.

O Cloe I shall never sleep again. Hostilius will not let me sleep, least I Should dream of him—Is not that unkind?

Cor.

Pray try what charmes there are in Musick, Madam.

Feli.

Let it be mournful then, for should they play A Cheerful air, and I so merry as I am, Twou'd make me mad—ha, ha, ha, ha,— But tis no matter, I'le sit down here and weep.

[Soft Musick.

No more, I hate these Viols: Hostilius is a Souldier Let me hear voices: Sing a Trumpet to me.

[To a Martial Air.

SONG.

Make hast fair Queen of Cyprus, tarry not: Have-you the impatient Love of Mars forgot? He bleeds, he bleeds, from wounds unseen, That know no cure but such a Queen. You are the only Surgeon has the art To cure a God' that's wounded in the heart.

See, the fair Queen of Cyprus does appear, While all the wither'd beauties of the year Start up and smile, to feel her bring, Something more welcome than the Spring. The Rose and Iessamine, perfume the air, Yet do her Garlands take their sweetness from her hair. She comes, she comes, she comes a Lovers pace With all the smiles of Heaven in her face.

Chorus.

Why should not than the brave be fortunate? Why shou'd the fair be hapless in their Love? When the Coelestial powers that rule their fate Keep such a kind intelligence above?

Feli.

Fetch me a Roman Pile, aud Sabine Shield, I'le after the ungrateful Runegade,

[Starting up.

And force him back to duty—alas, alas, Laugh at me good Cornelia, prithee laugh. Can I force him whom mighty Cupid could not? I saw the little God shoot all his Arrows at him, And still Hostilius fenced, and fenced, and fenced 'Em all away; and still as they came, He filcht them all into his own Quiver. At last the boy sate down and wept for having lost His Arrows: But what did I? I went up boldly to the pretty Child, And strok't him thus; be comforted said I,

[Stroaks Cor.

I'le give thee new Artillery, sweet infant: I'le give my boy a Quiver full of sighs. At this the Urchin smil'd: Ah! foolish Girl, said he, Sighs are indeed sort of Arrows, but they Can only wound her breast that shoots 'em.

Cor. and Cloe.

Dear Madam try to sleep once more.

Feli.

I will, I will, I will, I will,—

[Sits down again.

But then you must not sing another Trumpet; I hate the thought of war, Hostilius is Too much a Soldier! Sing any thing but that, And I will try to sleep in earnest.

SONG.

Where art thou God of dreams; for whose soft chain The best of Mankind ever do complain; Since they affect to be thy Captives before Liberty Vnkind and disobliging Deity!

He flies from Princes and from Lovers Eyes Yet every night with the poor Shepheard lies?

II.

Shew thy self now a God, and take some care Of the distressed Innocent and fair. To rest, to rest, dispose the pitty'd Maid, her eye-lids close Gently, as evening dews shut up the Rose: Then bear in silent whispers to her ear Such pleasing words as Virgins love to hear.

Cloe.

She sleeps, she sleeps, Cornelia! Happy minute. Let us withdraw, for fear we should disturb The blessed slumber.

[They come forward, and the Scene shuts upon Feliciana.

Cloe.

But while our care's imploy'd her for Feliciana, We must not lose the memory of Hersilia. We are obliged in Honour to find some means To free the Noble Lovers.

Cor.

Poor Cloe, what are we weak helpless Maids To attempt so brave and act, when all the force In Rome can hardly, hope to do it?

Enter Portia, weeping.

Port.

If you have any tears in store, now, now Is the sad fatal hour arriv'd to spend 'em, If you have eyes, shew it, and weep, for mine Already are quite lost in sorrows— The Noble Romulus, and his Hersilia, That Glorious pair of Captives, are by Tatius (O cruel Sabine, O scandal of our Nation) Sentenc'd to death, and now the cursed minute Comes on apace, when the inhumane Sentence Must have a more inhumane Execution.

Cloe.

So sad a tale, as this, tho but a fiction, Cannot be heard without some tears?

[Weeps.

For sure, my Portia, you but dissemble with us, Or if you be in earnest, yet Tatius, is not: He cannot be so barbarous.

Port.

Oh never hope it, he is grown a Monster: Justice the best of vertues is in him The worst of vices, since he can act A cruelty like this, and call it Justice.

Cloe.

And is this true? Happy Feliciana,

Whose want of sense secures her from this new sorrow: Wou'd I too were distracted.

Cor.

I will not be so vain to wish, where I Can rule my fate: I'le die with my dear Lady: I need no other Tyrant then my grief, Sorrow shall do the part of Tatius to me.

Port.

I love my Queen as much as any can; I cou'd indure a thousand prisons for her; Suffer a thousand sorrows, nay I could wish, Wish heartily, that I were dead to save her. But when I think I am a dying,— Oh how I tremble: death is a thing of such An ugly form, so old, and full of horror, It never can agree with a young Virgins fancy.

Cloe.

How poor a thing it is to be a woman; Ah helpless sex! we have desires, yet still Want power to act them. Come my sad Companions, Let us all try to melt away in tears: In such a death no frightful shape appears, Insensibly we shall be eased from care, As Eccho once, in sighs dissolv'd to air.

[Exeunt

SCENE III. The Street.

Enter Hostilius.

Host.

I Cannot go out of the sight of Rome, How long have I been wandring to no pupose? Like strangers straying in a wood, I think To Travel forward, but am indeed Brought back, insensibly to my first station. Sure something is forgot; shou'd not I see Hersilia, 'ere I part? It must be so, Goodmanners say I shou'd. O I dare not To see her, O to stay for ever here And lose my generous thought; my boasted friendship. No, I will on: I'le spur my testy Nature, And make the dull Jade travel forward, forward; It is a glorious journy, and I will go.

[Exit.

Enter Tarpeia, in Mans Apparel, but different from the former.

Tarp.

'Tis requisite, I should redeem my honour

In the same garb I lost it; my designe, Is much too Masculine for my own habit. O Curtius, Curtius, that I cou'd remove thee From Rome, and from the world, with as much ease As from Tarpeia's, much abused affection. But let it be: The greater difficulty, The greater glory. Wert thou arm'd with thunder, Fenced with a wall of Adamant, and Seas Deeper and feircer, than the Adriatick, I'de find a way to thy perfidious heart; And tell thee there what's due from injur'd Love.

Enter Hostilius.

Host.

How much in vain do we resolve to act What fate forbids? The Gods have drawn a line, And tho I strain and summon all my powers, They hold me back; and laugh at my endeavors: I must not, cannot pass the fatal limits. Rome I am thine again! The Gods that bring me here Let them preserve my Honour.

Tarp.

Now fortune, if thou art a Goddess, help me. Honour, if thou art more then a bare name, Assist me, since I act not for revenge Alone, but Romulus my injured King.

Host.

Ha! did not that boy name Romulus? I cannot Hear that dear name, but I must wish to see him— You mentioned, Youth, the King: Is he this way?

Tarp.

Where has the brave Hostilius been to ask That question? Can Romulus be a Captive, And he, his nearest friend, not know it?

Host.

What do I hear? Speak out thou fatal Messenger Of killing news; delay me not with questions, But answer mine directly. Where is my King, My Romulus?

Tarp.

In the West-Tower, a Captive there to Tatius.

Host.

Was this the cause I could not go from Rome? Was it for this my steps forsook my conduct, And erring right, have wandred back again? O sacred Providence, I now adore thee!— Admire not boy, that I'm a stranger here, I have been absent, a Truant from the City; And now returning, yet for a private reason I've shun'd the sight and speech of all I met.— But one word more for I am call'd to action

How has this news agreed with fair Hersilia? And where is she?

Tarp.

A Prisoner with her Husband. Freely she gave her self to the same fetters. She lov'd too well to be at large without him:

Host.

And is the sweet Hersilia too a Captive? What Romulus, and his Hersilia too! Fortune invites me to the greatest Glory, To Sacrifice my life, or free at once, The two most lov'd by me of all Mankind.

Tarp. (Aside.)

I've ruin'd my own project; O! he'l prevent me, And I shall never get again my houour, Nor give a due revenge to injur'd Love, Shou'd I be thus defeated. (To Hostilius,) However, tho Affairs are very desperate, yet I Have form'd a way to free the Noble Lovers: I beg the brave Hostilius would permit it.

Host.

Heavens! This is another Rival: Hersilia's beauty Makes all Mankind, of every age, adorers. How fate has spited me? altho I know He loves my Mistress, yet such a Rival Child Is much below my notice.—

[Aside.

Thou form a way to free 'em,—alas, poor boy! Who owns this stragling Child?— Thou free the Noble Lover's: What darst thou do to free 'em?

Tarp.

Sir, tho I think, I dare as much as any, Encounter fire and water, fight against all The Elements, endure a thousand wounds, And every wound, a several death; yet what I have designed is not to be effected By over daring, but by address and wit. Force is too desperate, my way is sure, If you, not ruine all by acting rashly. Suffer me then to act alone, I beg it: The Honour, Sir, of my whole life's concern'd.

Host.

His honour? 'tis so, aye he must love Hersilia, He could not else be so concern'd and earnest.—

[Aside.

Thy Honour Boy! whats that, who ever heard Of a Boys Honour?

Tarp.

My Love, my life, and my revenge will suffer.

Host.

His Love, Horror!

[Aside.

It is an impudent request, that I

[To Tarp.

Should stand unactive in a cause like this.— Thy honour suffer! Dam it: Mine will more▪ As infinitely more, As there is difference 'twixt my Love and thine. Go poor effeminate Creature, use thy ways Of fraud and treachery, fit for boys or women. I'le be a Man, and force the prison open.

[Exit.

Tarp.

He'l ruine my design infallibly, Unless I give it speedy Execution: I must effect it then, while he is drawing A party up for the assault, or never. He must lose time, but I can't spare one minute. Fortune assist me: Revenge and hate inspire me.

[Exit.

Scena ultima, The Fort.

Enter Curtius and Tarpeius.

Cur.

I've open'd all my heart Tarpeius to you, Because I know your interest with Romulus: You can prevail with him: You see what power I have to make my offers good.—Tatius Has given this Fort to me, and I have here An absolute Command, since he return'd back to the Camp.

Tarp.

You have indeed made me a large Confession, But I'me not sure I understand you right, I think you say you love the fair Hersilia; And as a means to gain her wrought this war, And got my Fort by Treason.—

Cur.

True.

Tarp.

You tell me, she and Romulus are both To die, Condemn'd by Tatius for the Rape; But notwithstanding, if I'le prevail with him To quit Hersilia to your love, you'l give Him Liberty, and me my Fort again.—

Cur.

Most willingly.

Tarp.

I think you said you never lov'd the Treason But for Hersilia's sake. That 'twas my Daughter Betray'd the Gate, for which alone you hate her, And fain would give it back on these conditions—

Cur.

Most true.

Tarp.

No, hate my Daughter still, hate her as much As I do; It is the only act of all thy Life, That shews thee good or brave: Know thou most vile Of all the Sabines, that the King of Rome Has not so poor Soul, but he had rather Lose twenty thousands lives, than but one thought (The least of all his thoughts) for his Hersilia.

Cur.

And will you not perswade him?

Tarp.

Yes: Where he not already fixt I would Perswade him, and use all means, all Arguments To settle him in such a Resolution.— 'Tis well for thee, I am thy Prisoner, Curtius: Had I my Liberty, and Sword again I'de answer in another phrase, and tell Thy heart, what 'tis to tempt a Roman to So base an action.

Cur.

Are you so brave; Ho there without; who waits

Enter Guard

Take him and guard him strictly, on your lives Let him not speak to any, nor be seen.

[Exeunt Guard and Tarp.

I'me at a loss, my best design is blasted, Yet I'le not give it o're, Hersilia's Love Has joyes enough to recompence, a thousand crosses.

Enter a Souldier and Tarpeia.

Sol.

Yonder's my Captain, Sir, at leisure too, But you must leave your Sword with me.

Tarp.

Take it.—

[Gives her Sword.

Hail to the Noble Curtius, if you be he? I have affiars that touch you very nearly.

Cur.

I am the man, if they concern my life; Speak boldly.

Tarp.

They do, and what's more near, your love.

Cur.

Speak softly, Boy. The very name of love Hath something in't so sacred, it requires A private ear and ought not to be heard By any unconcern'd; the profane vulgar. Withdraw, and suffer none whoever, to

[To the Soldier.

Approach this way, till I give notice.

[Ex. Sold.

Tarp.

It is indeed a mighty secret Sir, And we can't be too private.

Cur.

True Boy,—

[Locks the door.

Now speak.

Tarp.

I am sent hither from the fam'd Sybilla—

Cur.

About my Love? Ay, Ay, I do not doubt it. 'Tis such a strong and violent passion, Boy, The Gods may well take notice of it. What says the Prophetess? Did she not name Hersilia in the Message? If she did not, O never speak it to me; all other words Are discords in my ear.

Tarp.

She did, she did, She nam'd the sweet Hersilia often, And said,—But first, see my Credentials, Curtius.— Look Sir, this is her hand, and this; no, this—

She gives him a Letter, and as he is opening it to read, she comes up, and looking over his left Shoulder, as if she would instruct him in something, whips out his Sword.

Turn hither Monster, and behold thy Hell, Before you feel the flames,—I am Tarpeia.— Nay stir not, or by all the Gods, and all The Devils, like thy self, I'le nail thee to The ground: tho I am a Woman, yet I am Inspir'd with all the force and fury now of twenty men.

Cur.

It is the very she; What a dull beast was I not to suspect That face! my Love transported me to ruine.

[Aside.

Tarp.

Tremble, and hear me thou inhumane Villain. I come prepar'd to take a full revenge For all my slighted Love, my ruin'd honour, For Romulus, my Country, and my Father. I value not my life, when I have thine I'le give mine freely up to any torment.

Cur.

How have I wrong'd you, Madam? You know too well, Our passion's not at our own choice, if fate Has pointed your love this way, mine to another, It is your fate has wrong'd you, and not I.

Tarp.

Unheard of impudence! face of a Devil! Can you say this to me? To me who have Betray'd my King, my Country, Father, All, For thou perfidious wretch? 'Tis not thy Love I value now, but seek for my lost honour:—

Didst thou not swear, thy Love was free? and by That specious bait tempt me to be a Devil? Give me my faith again I owe my Country: Give me again my Innocence, false man, Make me no traytor.—O it can not be! My names all over fully'd, black, black, as Hell,— But I will wash it in thy blood: I'le search The fountain of thy veins, suck thy hearts blood, Then knaw the flesh into a thousand peices, And grieve the diet will not last for ever.

Cur.

Where are my Guards? O that they knew my danger! Will no kind Demon tell 'em.—Ho! without.

Tarp.

Nay if you open, Hell-hound, then have at thee.

[Makes at him, he strives to defend himself, but is wounded.

Cur.

Yet spare my life and I will pardon all. I'le Love thee too, give back the Fort and Prisoners.

Tarp.

Abhorred Creature! no: I now hate more Than I e're lov'd, tho I lov'd more than any. Wert thou more suppliant at my feet, than I Too lately was at thine, I'd spurn at thy Petitions, thus; and be more cruel, If it were possible, than thou wer't, Devil. As for the Fort, I'le quickly take that back. But first thy life.—

[Assaults him again.

Guard.

To Armes, to Armes: Where are you Curtius?

[Without:

Captain to Armes, to Armes, we are surpriz'd.

[Knocking.

Cur.

Make hast and break the door.

Tarp.

I'le open first a door to thy false heart. [Curtius closes Tarp. and as they are striving, the Guard enter.

Guard.

Ha! Curtius, unarm'd and wounded? See the young Traytor. Oh Murderous Villain!—

[The Guard wound Tarp.

Cur.

Forbear, it is a Woman,—

[Curtius disarms her.

Guard.

O Sir, the Forts in danger,—the Romans headed By their Hostilius, pour like a torrent on us. We want your Countenance and conduct.

Cur.

I am much wounded, but I think none mortal: On to the danger,—

[To Tarp, as he goes off.

Despised thing, false both to Rome and me, Make use of these few minutes I'le but secure My Guard, at my return expect The due reward which all thy Treasons Merit.

[Ex. Cur. cum suis

Tarp.

Yes, I will use the time—I bleed: Tis nothing, The sight does but incourage me to action. O that I had a Sword! I'le to the assault While all is in Confusion, I cannot miss A weapon on the place: My Country calls; My help, though weak▪ will yet assist her something. Could I die fighting for her, I were happy. When life's a burthen, all our fortune cross, To lose it Nobly then; how sweet's the loss?

[Exit.

ACT. V.

SCENE I. The Fort

Hostilius, Souldiers, Tarpeia.

Host.

THE Fort is ours again: But we have strangely Mist the Commander.

Sol.

Sabinus Curtius, Sir, when he perceived All past Redemption, with some few Officers, Forced their way through us, and fled safely over To their own Camp: the rest are Prisoners.

Host.

My little Rival there, and bloody too? I see he's more a Man than I expected,

[Aside.

Know you that Boy?

[To the Soldier.

Sol.

I found him, Sir, amidst the thickest danger, Fighting on our side, fiercely, till spent with loss Of blood, a rough old Sabine, had seiz'd And wou'd have kill the fainting Youth, when I Stept in and saved him.

Host.

It was well done, and I'le reward you for it: All favour's due to such an early Courage.— Thou art a Gallant Boy, and I repent

[To Tarp.

I chid thee lately, prithee reveal thy Name, That we may know, to whom we give our praises.

Tarp.

It is not worth your knowledge, brave Hostilius, My Name's dishonourable, worse than none, Unless I get a Name that's worth the speaking I beg to die unknown.—

Sol.

See Sir, the Royal Prisoners come to meet you,

Enter Romulus, Hersilia, Spu. Tarpeius.

Rom.

Do we see our Hostilius once again?

I cannot say, in which I am most happy, To see my friend restored, or Liberty.— O, my Hersilia, now we cannot die; This world is too inviting: All our joyes Return, and we shall now be Gods in Rome.

Host.

The happiness is mine, blessed am I, That I am pointed out to serve my King, My best of Friends, and (whom I blush to name,) The sweet Hersilia: It is a glorious office! The very boys have so much sense of Honour; And think it Heaven to die in such a cause. This youth endeavour'd it as well as I.

[Pointing to Tarp.

Sp. Tarp.

Ha! my Daughter in disguise! O thou shame Of Roman Maids. Take this reward of Treason—

[Draws and runs at her, Hostilius steps between.

Host.

Hold! What means the Mad-man? Wou'd you reward With death, him, who still bleeds from all these wounds Received so lately in his Countries quarrel?

Sp. Tarp.

Persist not in an Errour, good Hostilius, This is no Boy, but my accursed Daughter,— With-hold me not, I have a Parents Right, And claim to take her life at my own freedom.

Rom.

That Argument I never will allow of, 'Twas used against Hersilia.

Host.

I am amazed! can any woman have, A Soul so Masculine?

Sp. Tarp.

Say rather, so degenerate, and full of horrour, Since this is that false Devil that betray'd The Fort, her King, and Father, to the Sabines.

Rom.

This is all Riddle, how cou'd she betray Her Prince, who has expos'd her life to save him. I must examine this more strictly,—

Romulus goes over, and discourses with Tarpeia, and her Father, while Hostilius and Hersilia come forward.

Hers.

Hostilius you have merited from me so highly In freeing my dear Lord, from instant death, That I should be confounded much, to make A due acknowledgment of such a service: Did I not know of a reward will please you.

Host.

I'me stupifi'd. I know not what to answer. I dare not look: I dare not trust, my eyes With the dear object.—

[Aside.

Hers.

Do you not mind me Sir, Why do you look Another way?—Yours merits are too modest.

Host.

In vain I guard my eyes: In vain I keep That Post secure: My ear, my ear betrays me.—

Aside.

Too much reward it is already, Madam,

[To Hersilia.

For me to hear such words from fair Hersilia. What man can merit such kind words, and live? If I had dyed in such a cause, as this, Perhaps the sweet Hersilia might have then Applauded me with better Justice.

Hers.

No more of this.— As soon as we return back to the Pallace Be you in the Court Garden: I'le meet you there in the close Mirtle-walk, And then confer, the dear reward I mention.

Host.

I dare not understand her meaning.— Now, now, Hostilius, summon all thy vertue, Call all thy Honour to thy help, for all Is much too little.—

Rom.

So brave an act, after so base a Treason I never knew the same hand guilty of.

Sp. Tarp.

I cannot yet receive her for my Daughter, The stain of Treason is indelible, Nor has she purg'd her Crime by her late service. Since she was bound to that, tho she had ne're Offended.—She ought to die.

Rom.

Spurius Tarpeius, no: You give your Prince Dishonourable Counsel. Shou'd I forget Her wounds still bleeding? Ingratitude's in me Almost as great a blemish as her Treason.

Tarp.

If you intend me any favour Sir? If I have merited in my last action? Do as my Father urges. Take my life: Since I mist that of Curtius, mines a Burden, A shame, a Torment to me. Had I but Recover'd my lost Honour: Had not my Revenge, my Glory, my intended service Been all defeated by Hostilius coming, I then cou'd have endured to live, Or any fate, life had not been uneasie.— If you'l not give me death as a reward? If I appear to ask too great a Boon?

Confer it as a Punishment for Treason. If neither way I can have what I beg: Sullen, and out of favour with my fortune, I'le try to give my self what you deny me.

Hers.

Will you, Tarpeia, stand to my decission?

Tarp.

With all my Soul: I'me sure the sweet Hersilia Will give me what I ask, a speedy death; Since by my act, she and her Romulus Were both so very near it.

Hers.

Then, with my dear Lords leave, this is my Sentence. Tarpeia, you shall live: And yet to please you, I will inflict a Civil death, you shall, During your life, be a devoted Recluse, A Vestal, ever serving at the Altar, And Sacrifice for us whom you have wrong'd.

Rom.

Now to Mount Palatine: Come my Captive Queen, And change a Prison, for a Court, Joys tast More sweet, when relisht by afflictions past

[Ex. Omnes. Preter Tarpeia.

Tarpeia alone, two of the Guards at a distance.

Tarp.

A Nun! O no: The thought is worse than death. Can I, I who have felt so many fires In my own breast, whose heart has burnt so long In Love and fury, that I am now all ashes? Can I— Tamely submit to guard the Vestal Flames? Pardon me Goddess; Pardon me Hersilia; I have not Soul enough to live at ease.— O Earth, Earth, Earth! Take me to your Embraces.

[Lies down.

Why shou'd I use the air? My Soul's all fled, Spent and evaporate in fruitless Passion. There's nothing left to poor Tarpeia now But a base fordid Lump of worthless mould. Colour, that fleeting Summer shade, and all That little Beauty I once had, has left me: Like a false dream, 'tis vanisht in a moment. Yet I have still a name remains: Ah, less Then nothing! unless it cou'd survive with Glory. To cleanse thy spoted name, die then, Tarpeia; Nothing but death can give a life to fame.

[Seeing the Guards.

(Rising)

Ha! my Sorrows are betray'd:—Unmanner'd Villains,

Do you stay here as Spies upon my action?

[Draws.

Guard.

We wait here, Madam, by the Kings Command: Our duty is to see you safely lodged In Vesta's Temple.—

Tarp.

Forbear: And know your distance, base Plebeians; I have not leasure yet to be Religious.— O! I am much opprest: Too much black blood

[Aside.

Lies heavy at my heart, and drowns my Spirits. But I will give it vent.—Stay, I have here, Full on my breast, a Sabine wound imperfect. What Curtius Soldiers have begun, I'le finish: Through the same Orifice I'le send my steel Into that wound which Curtius gave my heart. O loved and hated Name! Since he refused The Joys of Love, thus I'le remove the pains.

[Falls on her Sword.

1. Guard.

O she has kill'd her self! the mad Virago Has out done all her former actions, here. Call for more help.—

2. Guard.

Help, there within; Tarpeia bleeds to death!

Enter Tarpeius, Attendants.

Sp. Tarp.

What means this suddain out-cry? Ha! Is still Tarpeia here? My shame still here? Not yet a Vestal?

1. Guard.

O Sir, behold your Daughter lies expiring: Wild with her discontents, from her own Sword She took that death which you so much desired, And Romulus denyed.

Sp. Tarp.

She bleeds: Kind Heavens! from her own hand she bleeds. O truly Roman! Let me embrace my Daughter: I am not now ashamed to be her Father.

[Kneels by her.

Tarp.

Forgive me Sir, the scandal I have given Both to my Parents, and my dearer Country. I am unworthy to be called a Roman. A Roman is no Traytor! A Roman's brave, Just, true, and of a mind above Corruption. But I have been so false I cannot speak it. The Soul of my good name's long since expired, And why shou'd I survive?

Sp. Tarp.

True, true, my lovely Daughter! O thou art now In this last ebb of life, more fair than ever. Others may think thy former beauty fadeing, Languid, and dying-pale as a cropt Lilly;

To me the Roses of thy Cheeks still flourish, Fresh as the blooming Spring, sweet as the East: These closing eyes are real Jewels now; Poetick fury cannot make 'em brighter.

Tar.

O tell me, Sir, truly, as you are noble. Do not dissemble: Have I redeem'd my Crime, And with my blood cleans'd the foul stains of Treason?

Sp. Tar.

Believe me then,— Thou art all white again, my dear Tarpeia; This glorious Act restores thy innocence, And from this hour, thou art new born to me A spotless Roman Virgin.

Tar.

It is enough! Have I all this for dying? O Glory cheaply bought! Come Death, come quickly; Come thou, more lov'd than Curtius; haste to meet me. The grim Man hears me. See! he comes; I feel him. Farewel: I go in haste; with greater Joy, Than love sick Virgins lose their name to Hymen. Farewel for ever.

[Dyes.

Sp. Tar.

Farewel my shame, and glory!—

[Rising.

Nature wou'd shew it self; it whispers me, She was my Daughter; True, but she died bravely. I ought not then to shed one tear, but triumph. Take up the Body, Souldiers, as one of us; For tho she were a Virgin, she was martial. Such Obsequies as are to Hero's given, Shall be my Daughters: A Maid of manly courage: A Soul oppos'd to destiny: Her shame Was Love and Life, Revenge and Death her fame.

[Exeunt Omn.

SCENE II. The Pallace.

Portia, Cloe.

Por.

THis welcome news must sure restore her.

Clo.

I doubt it not at all: Her late sleep too contributes.

Por.

Where not you present, Cloe, when Cornelia Made the Relation to her?

Clo.

Yes.

Port.

How did she receive it?

Clo.

As one of us would a surprizing Story, When half a sleep: She started, blusht, then askt A thousand little questions, to no purpose,

Then blush't again, and turn'd away her eyes, As conscious and ashamed of her late weakness.

Port.

These simptoms shew returning sense, tho slowly, And by degrees, as harmless. Virgins wake From pleasing dreams.—

Enter Feliciana, Cornelia.

Feli.

O Portia! O my Cloe, witness all What here Cornelia tells me. She sayes Hostilius, She sayes my Sister, too? And not she only, But Hostilius are coming hither.—

Port.

It is most true.

Feli.

Go you wou'd all deceive me: You tell me Heaven Will come to me, and all the upper world Stoop to a silly Girl. Fie on you all! How can I think it? Go, you are all deceivers.

Cot.

Look, Madam, trust your eyes.—

Enter Hersilia.

Hersi.

Feliciana! O my long-mist Dear.

[Embracing.

Feli.

O my Sister!

Hersi.

My haste to see my sweet Feliciana, Transported me, and wou'd not let me rest, Till thus I settle in her dear embrace.— Why are you silent, sweetest! sure some vast joy Stifles her words.—What does this mean, Cornelia?

Cor.

O Madam, since you went, all her fair senses Have been as absent, as your self, and her Much loved Hostilius.

Clo.

No wonder then the way being thus disturb'd, If her returning Wits appear to wander.

Hersi.

I'le guide e'm right, for I have joyes in store, Great, as her past affectons. Come with me

[to Fel.

Sweet innocence! Fortune's not alwayes angry She now is pleas'd again, and bids you too Smilelike herself, the happy hour's arriv'd: The happy hour, that gives your Sister means To pay what she has stood so long engag'd for. I'le make Hostilius yours: For I can give him.

Fel.

I dare not trust you.

Her.

You must: You shall this once, and never after. Hast, my Feliciana: Let us flie, On the soft wings of Love, to meet Hostilius.

[Exeunt omnes.

SCENE III. A Garden.

Enter Hostilius.

THis is the place, and this the time appointed. As soon as I arriy'd back at the Pallace,— These were her words.—I'le then and there said she. Confer the dear reward I mention.— What can that be? but what, it shou'd not be. She knows, she knowes, I value no reward, But only what, she shou'd not give, her Love. O Romulus! my friend! how can I think, That name, and yet wait here for his dishonour.— Yet I am innocent,—I'le back again. She is not here: Than why shou'd I expect, And do so foul an action, in cold blood? No, I will back again:—I cannot go. Methinks I shou'd attend a Ladies motion, Much more a Queens, a Goddess, such as Hersilia. Deceitful Love! O thou false impostor! O my my lost friendship! Lost! I will not lose it. But one turn more, and I will, will go.

[Exit.

Enter Hersilia, and speaks entring.

Hers.

Stand you all out of sight; there at that turning, And when I call appear.—I see him yonder, Pensive he walks, as if he fear'd to meet What he expects. I know he thinks my Love, The promised Recompence, for his past service, I'le soon transfer his thoughts to the right object. He sees me.

Enter Hostilius.

Hers.

Does not Hostilius wonder to what end I meet him thus, and in a place so far Removed from sight and interruption?

Host.

Not at all, Madam: Hersilia cannot have A thought unworthy of her self, and Honour: (Aside) What a soft charming look has she put on? Oh I am ruin'd!—

Hers.

I told you Sir, I knew, Of a reward that I am sure will please you: Tis Love, and such a Love you must not slight.

Host.

Ay: It is so: My fears, and my desires Are joyn'd to make me wretched: I am lost: Lost past recovery. What Man can stand against such sweet temptation?

[Aside.

Hers.

'Tis from no Common beauty; but one adorn'd With all the advantages of Birth and Fortune, Young, witty, noble, innocent, and fair, As the first smiles of Summer Mornings are: Chearful as April Suns, fresh as the Spring.—

Host.

It must be she her self, the Character Sutes with no other Woman.—

[Aside.

Enter Romulus, (unseen.)

Rom.

Ha! my Hersilia, and Horsilius here Alone too—

[Stands aside.

Hers.

Such is the Lady that has loved you long, Hostilius: She has loved you to excess, But hitherto unknown; her flame has lasted Silent and to her self, as Lamps in Tombs.— I am amaz'd to see you thus unmoved. Can you hear this Intelligence, from me too, And give it no more welcome?

Rom.

What do I hear? What, do I see? I will Not trust my senses, they are all deceitful No, in despight of my own eye and ear, I'le observe on: Down, down, rebellious thought.— 'Tis false, Hersilia cannot wrong me.

Host.

These are too quick advances: And less than Decent, Methinks, she's not so fair as lately. A Cloud is drawing o're her eye, I see it. Now love, where art thou? the Coward Boy's retiring. Honour I am all thine.—

[Aside.

Madam, I must confess, it is a vast Reward you offer for a little service. So vast, and so surprizing is the offer, I scarce have sense enough left to refuse it. Had your words been less clear, I shou'd not then Have dared to know their meaning; But now They are so plain, I must not understand 'em.

Hers.

I am o'rejoy'd to find him answer thus. I see he thinks it is my Love I offer; And by my conduct I have cur'd his phrenzy,

[Aside.

Extinguisht all the Rebel flame for me,

And made him capable of a new passion.

[Aside.

—And can you then refuse the Love I bring you? Can you, Hostilius, when Hersilia sayes Love and be happy, slight the precious news? How have I been deceiv'd? 'Twas falsly said, Hostilius honour'd, loved, adored Hersilia, Since she commends a Ladies Passion to him? And yet Hostilius stands as unconcern'd.

Rom.

I'le hear no more: My patience is abused. False, False Hersilia.

[Rom. comes forward.

Hers.

My Lord, I have been making Love here.—

Rom.

And can you own it too? But you 're already Too much dissembled. O that I had died By Tatius juster sentence; not lived to see His Daughter, thus much worse than kill me.

Hers.

Nay, than 'tis time to disabuse you both— Feliciana: Sister! Where are you?

Enter Feliciana and Attendants.

Look, Hostilius— This is the Lady, for whose sake I wo you. Has not my Character, short of her Beauty, Wrong'd her, by an imperfect commendation? Take her, brave Man, and here bestow that love, Which err'd to me; nor was your Error lost, When you imagin'd I could wrong my Lord But in a thought: 'Twas all designed for this.

Rom.

How base do I appear! Poor, and unworthy; And how divine Hersilia: yet I am pleased. Take from my Character ye Gods: Take, take, Yet more, and add it all to hers; for she Alone merits to be; nay is perfection. Let after Ages copy from Hersilia, When they wou'd learn what's good, or chaste, or noble. But let the name of Romulus be odious, Since he could wrong her love by base suspition. Can you forgive?—O I want assurance To ask. So much injustice you ought not, You must not pardon. Such a Crime as mine Exceeds, if it were possible, your Goodness.—

Hers.

O hold, or I shall doubt with better cause Your love, than you did mine. Can Romulus Be kind to me, and yet forbid my kindness?

You speak of pardon, where you ne're offended. My dearest Lord, I'm pleas'd at your suspicion. If (as th'appearance was) you had not been moved, Sure you had loved me less.

Rom.

O wondrous goodness! Miracle of women. Can you still love me?

Hers.

My life, I can, I doe!

[Embracing.

Host.

But, Madam, what must I return, for this dear blessing? I'm so confounded with the mighty favour, I know not where first to bestow my thanks; To my sweet Mistress, here, who thought me worthy, Or to your self, who form'd my erring heart, For such a Heaven,

Hers.

Pay 'em to her: Only her love deserves them. See, Sir, her blushes keep her speechless; but That very silence tells you, she merits more Than you can pay her.—

Enter a Soldier.

Sol.

To, Armes, to Armes: O! quick, or Rome is lost. The Sabines enter at Port Ianualis Led on by Tatius: Curtius too half desperate, Since his late loss, fights now with double Courage. The Guards give ground apace, and they are neer Possest of all that Quarter.

Row.

A truce with Love Hostilius, we are call'd To bolder actions.—

Host.

—Were all their Army present I have no power to stir, till thus I pay, At this soft shrine of Love and innocence My first Devotions.

[Kisses Feliciana's hand.

From this dear touch, I take new life, new Love, And thus inspir'd to certain conquest move.

[Ex. Rom. Host.

Feli.

He's gone: while he was here I had no power To speak, to move, or any thing but blush. My overflowing joy met every thought, And choak'd my words e're they could reach my tongue. My fears, my fears, now give me Elocution. O I shall lose your Present Sister. In vain, You gave me the brave Man: The cruel Sabines Will rob me of Hostilius.

Hers.

Why shou'd you fear Success? have not I made a greater venture,

My Soul, my Romulus, my All I hazard In this ingagement.—But if I hazard all Why stand I here? Can I be safe, when he, My better self's in danger? Cloe, run, Gather the Sabine Women in a body: Bid 'em all meet with speed at Iuno's Temple.—

Feli.

What means my Sister?

[Exit Cloe.

Her.

I feel unusual joy shoot through my heart: Something within me whispers, that as I First caused this war, so it is I must end it. Swell noble thought, That I may something do Worthy a Roman Wife, and Sabine Daughter.

Enter Portia.

Port.

Be happy Madam: Heaven declares for Rome. The Gods fight for us. When your Romulus Found his men flying, and that no perswasions, Nor threats, nor his example cou'd prevail, To stay the Coward Fugitives, to all His friends above, the pious Roman calls, And vows a Temple in the place to Iove. Behold a Miracle! they, who but now Fled as so many Hares, turn on the sudden.—

Hers.

I'm seised with joy and wonder.

Port.

But this is, Madam, wonderful indeed. While the prevailing Sabines bore all before 'em, Pursuing fiercely along by Ianus Temple, A stream of Sulphur flow'd more fiercely on 'em, From the offended God: Drowning and burning them, But giving us more time and means to rally.

Hers.

Shall the two ever jarring Elements Of Fire and Water, lay by their enmity, Uniting both their powers for Rome, while I, The Wife of Romulus, stand unconcern'd? No, I will lose my Nature too; cast off The fears of Woman, and with a Troop Of my own Sex, confront the thickest danger. But stay you here, my sweet Feliciana, Thy years are much unfit for such a hazard.

Fel.

Unkind Hersilia! Why shou'd you under-rate My love, and think it less than yours? Young as I am, I dare as much as you. For love and my Hostilius, I am all fire:

And yet I durst not go, were not he there; But to meet him, tho in a Grave, I dare.

[Exeunt omnes.

SCENE Ult. The Scene draws, and discovers the Romans and Sabines ready to engage. Drums and Trumpets.

Romulus, Hostilius, Tatius and Curtius come forward.

Tat.

Forbear a while.—Since, Romulus, we meet So opportunely, let us two, who have The chief concern in this unhappy War, Decide the quarrel singly. Why shou'd we Profusely cast away a thousand lives Harmless and unconcern'd? when we may better Stake all th'event of war on our own heads.

Rom.

The offer's just and noble: I accept it.

Tat.

Give your command then, to your Roman party, As I to mine (who I 'm sure will obey me) That they remain spectators only, and Both sides yeild to him that conquers.

Host.

Sure Tatius, never heard Hostilius named. Am I soe great a stranger, to your ear? Or has report, ne're mentioned the strict friendship. With which the God like Romulus has graced me. 'Tis time you know it now, if yet you have not. I cannot see my King engaged, And I unactive.—

Cur.

—Nor I my General. Once more, Hostilius, fortune presents my sword To oppose yours; sure now we may decide What late we left imperfect.

Host.

With as much joy as absent Lovers meet.

Tarp.

Is there not yet one Sabine more that dare Contest with me the Justice of this War? Must I be so unhappy to stand idle, A poor Spectator of brave deeds, and want One noble Enemy among so many?

[Two or three Sabines are coming forward io answer.

Tat.

Retire and keep your places.—You see Tarpeius Here are enow, that strive for the like honour; But since your King agrees to fight me single, I'le have no more engaged than are already: Hostilius has indeed put in no common claim.

Or else he too had been refused.

Rom.

Be not displeased, thou brave and worthy Roman. 'Tis sit I leave one friend alive, to tell

[Embracing Tarp.

Posterity, how much I die Hersilia's: How much my heart abhorr'd to live, Unless in her: How my last sillable was her's, And how my Soul flew in a trembling sigh Up with her name to Heaven.

[Tarp. retires.

Tat.

We lose too many minutes; Roman advance, And meet me as a Foe implacable. Respect me not, as Father to Hersilia, Rather than so, I cancel all Relation, Quit my Alliance, and disown my blood.

[They all pass.

Enter Hersilia, Feliciana, and other Women, who all run in between 'em.

Hers.

Do,—kill us first, and then your selves. Add this To the great List of all your Glorious Acts, That you have Murdered all these unarm'd Women: Where am I now arriv'd? Is that my Father? He is or shou'd be: This I'me sure's my Husband.—

Feli.

And this to me more dear, than thousand Husbands. I'le be Hostilius shield, weak as I am, He that wounds him must do it through my breast.

Hers.

Sir,

[To Tatius Kneeling.

Tat.

Woman away.

Hers.

Have I no nearer Name?

Tat.

Hersilia,—

Hers.

Still that has too much distance: methinks I hear my Mothers Soul, from her blest seat Of rest, call out and say, I am your Daughter.

Tat.

You were; till disobedient Love blotted that name, And render'd all my blood degenerate,

Hers.

—My Lord,—

[To Romulus.

Rom.

My better life! Retire Hersilia.

[Raising her.

O do not thus expose to the blind Sword, A life inestimable: To see you bleed Wou'd kill my very Soul. Shou'd I lose you I lose a thousand lives, a thousand worlds.

Hers.

Perish a thousand Worlds, before I see My Father kill my Husband; He my Father. You both devide my Duty: I live in both, And die in either: why shou'd you then endeavor?

To murder me twice over in your selves. I had rather once in my own person die Than twice in yours: Begin, begin with me: Take my life he that pleases; take it freely. But spare each other.—

Tat.

These, Romulus, are your security: I'le draw my Party off; some other time We'll find an hour more masculine and noble, When we may act like men, not talk to women.

Hers.

O stay; for to part thus has something in't Worse than my present fears. O hear me Sabines! Hear me you noble Romans! If for my sake This war was first begun, why for my sake May it not now be ended? Am I Hersilia? Have I a Father and a Husband here, And yet want interest to mediate with you? Sure Nature cannot be so far defective; I know my Father cannot be obdurate; I know it by my self; if he were cruel I could not be compassionate and kind: No, he was never cruel; 'twas but dissimulation. When lately he condemn'd my Lord and I.

Tat.

Thus far 'tis true, tho I condemn'd you justly, I never meant the threatned Execution. Curtius knows it,— But what is that to this? We now meet equal, And I to vindicate my Right, and Honour. Hersilia, give us way; when Kings dispute, Swords are their Arguments, Force their perswasion.

Hers.

No, make your way to him through me.—Yet hold, Your Sword is needless, I feel a sharper weapon; The thought of your unkindness kills me surer.

[Faints

Rom.

O stay fair Soul! If but one minute longer, Stay but to take me with you—No, she's gone! Look back Hersilia, I shall soon o're take you.

[Offers to fall on his Sword. Hostilius holds him. Hersilia recovers.

Hers.

What pleasing voice unkindly calls me back From the eternal rest of injur'd Lovers? Sure 'tis my Lord; it must, it must be he; No Tongue but his can draw Souls from Heaven.

[Embracing Rom.

Tat.

I am o'recome. He that can see such Love

And yet not melt, is not a Man but Devil. I yield, O Divine power of Love, That can subdue a fury such as mine!

[He Embraces Romulus and Hersilia.

Be happy in each other, best of Lovers, My Daughter, and my Son! I'm doubly blest; Since now in knowing you, I know my blessing.— Sheath all your Swords: give the Command abroad, That like me, each embrace his Enemy.

[Curtius and Hostilius Embrace, &c.

Hers.

O happy change,

Rom.

Blest be Hersilia, ever! Since to her Piety we owe this change. Never was War so ended!

Host.

Yet one more blessing, Sir, and we are all happy.

[To Tat.

[Approaching with Feliciana.

Our hearts are both united: We only want Your favour to compleat a Glorious Hymen.

Tat.

This is my second comfort. Take her Hostilius, For you deserve her. Thou second Romulus! Live, Love, and be as happy as the first.

Cur.

Tarpeius you alone know my dishonour.

[Aside to Tarp.

My false, base, Treason, and the Love that caused it: My mind is now reform'd: I am no more, Rival to Romulus, but his admirer. When I behold his flame my own expires, As brighter Suns put out the lesser fires. As you are Noble, then conceal my shame, For I repent it much.— And I am now prepar'd by future kindness To pay off all that mighty Debt of Love, Which I have too long ow'd to your much injured Daughter.

Sp. Tarp.

Your Debts discharged, Sabinus, and hers already paid To Nature: Tarpeia is no more.

Cur.

Tarpeia dead? Forbid it Heaven!

Sp. Tarp.

Unable to endure the sense of such dishonour As her unhappy Love contracted, by her own hand She washt the spots of Fame in her own blood.

Cur.

Ah Noble Maid! too brave, and too unhappy! Heroes and Demy-Gods shall Celebrate Tarpeia. Queens when they'd Name a Maid of mighty Courage, And vindicate their Sex above the Male,

Will say Tarpeia: But most the hapless Lover, When he complains of Cross and Cruel Stars, Shall weeping mention her sad fate and call it his.

Sp. Tarp.

Curtius no more: Let us forget our sorrows. We injure much our Countries publick Joy: No Passion now shou'd Raign, but Love and Triumph.

Tat.

Romans and Sabines are no longer two, But the same Nation, now: Where such a Love Has shew'd the way to Rome, we must all follow.

Rom.

Renown'd for ever be this day and place: Here for all Ages, let the Roman Tribes, Fix their Comitium, for more solemn meetings. Here every year let all the blooming Youth, And tender Virgins, of our now own people, In Songs and Revels Celebrate this day: And as a Monument of the late wonder, Let Ianus Temple, ever open stand When Rome has War, the God for us will fally. Happy the Nuptials, when two Kingdomes Wed: Empire and Crowns spring from that Marriage Bed.

FINIS.