TITINIUS.
What mean these sumptuous Preparations?
Is this a Time for either Pomp, or Pleasure?
When two, the best and boldest Sons of Rome,
The justest Cause too that was e'er defended,
Are on the very Brink of their Destruction.

VARIUS.
Oh wrong not sacred Athens, Sir, the Nurse
The Mother of all Arts and Sciences:
Has she spread Wit and Learning thro' the World,
Nay soften'd Rome her self (but rough before)

To Arts, to Eloquence, and gentler Manners;
And is she now upbraided?

TITINIUS.
Fallacious Eloquence, and useless Arts!
I own her Learning; but that Polishing
Has but too much weaken'd our harder Steel.
Our ancient, rough, and manly Worth now bends
At the hard touch of Perils and of Toils.
Our Gold is melted to a finer Shape,
But mix'd with dross of Flatt'ry and Corruption.
How else could Brutus be a banish'd Man?
Or how could Liberty fly here for Refuge?

VARIUS.
And whither should it fly, if not to Athens?
The School of all Philosophy and Virtue.
Our publick Recreations here are sacred:
This Day th' Athenians, ever true to Virtue,
In this low Ebb, in spite of pow'rful Rome,
Have kept their Custom tho' against their Safety,

And consecrated Sports for your Success.

TITINIUS.
Is't possible? Pardon a Stranger's Error,
Newly arriv'd with Succours from afar,
Sent from the Gods, I think: for 'tis their Cause;
And unknown Regions have espous'd our Quarrel.

VARIUS.
The Sports are just beginning; I have time
Only to let you know these are not Trifles,
Or such as are in Nations loose of Manners;
But solemn Celebrations to the Gods,
With pious Hymns imploring their Protection.
Wise Athens ever has indulg'd Diversions
With more Magnificence than greatest Princes:
But they are all dispos'd in Praise of Virtue,
Inspiring Courage, Generosity,
And most of all, Affection to their Country.
How think you now, Titinius?

TITINIUS.
I recant,
And grow my self impatient for your Pleasures.

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