Hor. That was a terrible time; I am glad it is over: I had a sister died of it. Before I had it, I was in perpetual dread of it, and many times to hear it named only has made me uneasy.
Cleo. Natural courage is a general armour against the fear of death, whatever shape that appears in, Si fractus illabatur erbis. It supports a man in tempestuous seas, and in a burning fever, whilst he is in his senses, as well as in a siege before a town, or in a duel with seconds.
Hor. What! you are going to show me, that I have no courage.
Cleo. Far from it; it would be ridiculous to doubt a man’s bravery, that has shown it in such an extraordinary manner as you have done more than once: what I question, is the epithet you joined to it at first, the word natural; for there is a great difference between that and artificial courage.
Hor. That is a chicane I will not enter into: but I am not of your opinion, as to what you said before. A gentleman is not required to show his bravery, but where his honour is concerned; and if he dares to fight for his king, his friend, his mistress, and every thing where his reputation is engaged, you shall think of him what you please for the rest. Besides, that in sickness and other dangers, as well as afflictions, where the hand of God is plainly to be seen, courage and intrepidity are impious as well as impertinent. Undauntedness in chastisements is a kind of rebellion: it is waging war with Heaven, which none but atheists and freethinkers would be guilty of; it is only they that can glory in impenitence, and talk of dying hard. All others that have any sense of religion, desire to repent before they go out of the world: the best of us do not always live, as we could wish to die.
Cleo. I am very glad to hear you are so religious: but do not you perceive yet, how inconsistent you are with yourself: how can a man sincerely wish to repent, that wilfully plunges himself into a mortal sin, and an action where he runs a greater and more immediate hazard of his life, than he could have done in almost any other, without force or necessity?
Hor. I have over and over owned to you that duelling is a sin; and, unless a man is forced to it by necessity, I believe, a mortal one: but this was not my case, and therefore I hope God will forgive me: let them look to it that make a sport of it. But when a man comes to an action with the utmost reluctancy, and what he does is not possibly to be avoided, I think he then may justly be said to be forced to it, and to act from necessity. You may blame the rigorous laws of honour, and the tyranny of custom, but a man that will live in the world must, and is bound to obey them. Would not you do it yourself?
Cleo. Do not ask me what I would do: the question is, what every body ought to do. Can a man believe the Bible, and at the same time apprehend a tyrant more crafty or malicious, more unrelenting or inhuman than the devil, or a mischief worse than hell, and pains either more exquisite or more durable than torments unspeakable and yet everlasting? You do not answer. What evil is it? Think of it, and tell me what dismal thing it is you apprehend, should you neglect these laws, and despise that tyrant: what calamity could befall you? Let me know the worst that can be feared.
Hor. Would you be posted for a coward?
Cleo. For what? For not daring to violate all human and divine laws?