To speak the malison of heaven.
If the wrath which I have ascribed to the heroine of this little piece should seem to exhibit her character as too unnaturally stript of patriotic and domestic affections, I must beg leave to plead the authority of Corneille in the representation of a similar passion: I allude to the denunciation of Camilla, in the tragedy of Horace. When Horace, accompanied by a soldier bearing the three swords of the Curiatii meets his sister, and invites her to congratulate him on his victory, she expresses only her grief, which he attributes at first only to her feelings for the loss of her two brothers; but when she bursts forth into reproaches against him as the murderer of her lover, the last of the Curiatii, he exclaims:—
“O Ciel! qui vit jamais une pareille rage:
Crois-tu donc que je sois insensible à l’outrage,
Que je souffre en mon sang ce mortel déshonneur!
Aime, Aime cette mort qui fait notre bonheur.
Et préfère du moins au souvenir d’un homme
Ce que doit ta naissance aux intérêts de Rome.”
At the mention of Rome, Camille breaks out into this apostrophe:—
“Rome, l’unique objet de mon ressentiment!