From flav'ry; let us bind these haughty Romans

Ev'n with the chains which they wou'd throw on us, i And all mankind. But will Meffala come,

May I expect him here? and will he dare

ALBINUS.

My Lord, he will attend you; ev'ry minute
We look for him; and Titus is our friend.

ARUNS.

Have you conferr'd; may I depend on him?

ALBINUS.

Meffala, if I err not, means to change
His own eftate, rather than that of Rome;
As firm and fearless as if honour guided,
And patriot love infpir'd him; ever fecret,
And mafter of himself; no paffionis move,

No rage difturbs him; in his heighth of zeal
Calm and unruffled.

ARUNS.

Such he seem'd to me

When first I faw him at the court of Tarquin &

His letters fince-but, fee, he comes.

SCENE.

IV.

ARUNS, MESSALA, ALBINUS.

ARUNS.

Meffala,

Thou gen'rous friend of an unhappy master,
Will neither Tarquin's nor Porfenna's gold

Shake

Shake the firm faith of these rough fenators?

Will neither fear, nor hope, nor pleasure bend
Their ftubborn hearts? These fierce patrician chiefs,
That judge mankind, are they without or vice
Or paffion? is there aught that's mortal in them?
MESSALA.

Their boafts are mighty, but their false pretence
To juftice, and the fierce austerity

Of their proud hearts, are nothing but the thirst
Of empire; their pride treads on diadems;

Yet whilft they break one chain, they forge another.

Thefe great avengers of our liberty,

Arm'd to defend it, are its worft oppreffors:

Beneath the name of patrons they affume

The part of monarchs; Rome but chang'd her fetters, And for one king hath found a hundred tyrants.

ARUNS.

Is there amongst your citizens a man
Honest enough to hate such shameful bondage ?

MESSALA.

Few, very few, yet feel their miferies:

Their fpirits, ftill elate with this new change,
Are mad with joy: the meaneft wretch among them,
Because he help'd to pull down monarchy,

Affumes its pride, and thinks himself a king :

But

But I've already told you I have friends,
Who with reluctance bend to this new yoke;

Who look with fcorn on a deluded people,

And ftem the torrent with unfhaken firmness;
Good men and true, whofe hands and hearts were made
To change the state of kingdoms, or destroy them.

ARUNS.

What may I hope from these brave Romans? fay,
Will they ferve Tarquin?

MESSALA.

They'll do any thing;

Their lives are thine; but think not, like blind vaffals,

They will obey a base ungrateful master:

They boaft no wild enthufiaftic zeal,

To fall the victims of defpotic pow'r,

Or madly rush on death to fave a tyrant,
Who will not know them. Tarquin promifes
Moft nobly, but when he fhall be their master,
Perhaps he then may fear, perhaps forget them.
I know the great too well: in their misfortunes
No friends fo warm; but in profperity,
Ungrateful oft, they change to bitt'reft foes:
We are the fervile tools of their ambition;
When ufelefs, thrown afide with proud disdain,

Or broke without remorfe when we grow dang'rous."

Our

Our friends expect conditions fhall be made;
On certain terms you may depend upon them:
They only ask a brave and worthy leader
To please their fickle tafte; a man well known,
And well respected; one who may have pow'r
To force the king to keep his plighted faith
If we fucceed; and if we fail, endued
With manly courage to avenge our cause.

ARUNS.

You wrote me word the haughty Titus

MESSALA.

Is Rome's fupport, the fon of Brutus; yet

ARUNS.

How does he brook the fenate's bafe reward

For all his fervices? he fav'd the city,

And merited the confulfhip, which they,
I find, refuse him.

MESSALA.

Titus

And he murmurs at it.

I know his proud and fiery foul is full

Of the bafe inj'ry: for his noble deeds,

Nought has he gain'd but a vain empty triumph;
A fleeting fhadow of unreal bliss:

I am no ftranger to his throbbing heart,

And

And strength of passion; in the paths of glory
So lately enter'd, 'twere an easy task
To turn his steps afide; for fiery youth
Is eafily betray'd: and yet what bars
To our defign! a conful, and a father;

His hate of kings; Rome pleading for her safety
The dread of shame, and all his triumphs paft.
But I have ftole into his heart, and know

The fecret poifon that enflames his foul:

He fighs for Tullia.

ARUNS.

Ha! for Tullia?

MESSALA.

Yes:

Scarce cou'd I draw the fecret from his breaft;

He blush'd himself at the discovery,

Afham'd to own his love; for midft the tumult

Of jarring paffions, ftill his zeal prevails

Thus on a single heart,

And its unequal movements, must depend,

Spite of myself, the fate of Rome: but hence,

Albinus, and prepare for Tarquin's tent.

[Turning to Meffala.

We'll to the princefs: I have gain'd fome knowledge,

By