15. She, who had long
flattered herself with the hopes of victory, now felt the agonizing
reverse of fortune: she was desired by the messenger, whose tears more
than his words proclaimed her unspeakable misfortunes, to hasten away
if she expected to see Pompey, who had but one ship, and even that not
his own. 16. Her grief, which before was violent, became now
insupportable: she fainted, and lay without signs of life. At length
recovering, and reflecting that it was no time for vain lamentations,
she fled through the city to the seaside.
17. Pompey received and embraced her, and in silent despair supported
her in his arms. "Alas!" said Corne'lia, "you who, before our
marriage, appeared in these seas as the commander of five hundred
sail, are now reduced to make your escape in a single vessel. Why come
you in search of an unfortunate woman? Why was I not left to a
fate which now you are under the necessity of sharing with me? Happy
for me had I executed, long since, my design of quitting this life!
But fatally have I been reserved to add to Pompey's sorrows.
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