Poems by the most deservedly admired Mrs. Katherine Philips, the matchless Orinda ; to which is added Monsieur Corneille's Pompey & Horace, tragedies ; with several other translations out of French.
Philips, Katherine, 1631-1664., Corneille, Pierre, 1606-1684., Corneille, Pierre, 1606-1684.
SCEN. VIII.
Old Horace, Young Horace, Curtius.
Young HORACE.
Sir, by your prudence their escape prevent,
Or they'll pursue us with their discontent,
And with a noise unwelcome and abrupt,
Their love and grief our fight will interrupt;
Which may give envy a pretence to stick
Upon our names, that poor and crafty trick:
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And our great choice would be too dearly bought,
If we were charg'd with one unworthy thought.
Old HORACE.
I shall be careful, go, your Brothers stay,
Think only what your Countries claim to day.
CURTIUS.
How shall I bid adieu, or by what art—
Old HORACE.
Ah! do not quite dissolve my trembling heart,
My tongue so sad a farewel does deny,
Nor can my heart thoughts strong enough supply;
See! ev'n my Eyes swell with unwilling tears,
Go, do your parts, and let the gods do theirs.
