work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context 7669,"",LION,2013-09-04 02:12:52 UTC,"CICERO.
Might that be so,
Ruin would lose its name; Exile its terrors,
And Clodius reap no triumph from my fall.
But Heaven that gave a blessing to our bed,
Stampt the great Law of Nature on my heart,
And bound me to it by the sacred ties
Of fatherly affection
; can I then
Wed my poor Tullia to disgrace and sorrow,
And to my Boy bequeath the bitter portion
Of Exile, and hereditary ruin?
Rather, just Gods! if so ye deem it fit,
Let me atone for all; on me be pour'd
Your whole collected vengeance, and repay me.
For these dire wrongs, this undeserv'd affliction,
An hundred fold, as heav'nly bounty should,
In blessings on my children.
(pp. 75-6)",,22685,"","""But Heaven that gave a blessing to our bed, / Stampt the great Law of Nature on my heart, / And bound me to it by the sacred ties / Of fatherly affection.""",Impressions,2013-09-04 02:12:52 UTC,""