University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

Regulus, Carthaginian Ambassadors, &c.
Regulus.
Hail Rome and Romans! O thou much-lov'd Land!
Whose gentle Bosom bore my Infant Steps;
Accept this Tribute of my filial Love:
And thou, great Jove, if, with a jealous Eye,
Thou seest me pay such Reverence to this Earth,
Such almost Idol-Homage to my Country—
Sure 'tis a Crime the easiest to be pardon'd.

Martia.
I must have way—where is my Regulus?—
My Lord—my Life.—

Regulus.
O Martia! O my Wife!—

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Long let me hold thee here:—My Children too!—
Transport is always silent, and my Words
Are lost in more substantial Bliss—but thus—and thus—

Corvus.
Curse on his speechless Extasies!

Mutius.
Be silent.

Regulus.
At length 'tis past, and Transport gives some Way—
What shall I first demand, O gentle Martia!
Who have a thousand Questions of Importance
Waiting to be resolv'd?—But seeing thee
Answers them all, and I am more than happy.

Martia.
O 'tis an Age since I beheld thee last:
What hast thou felt?—and what has Martia suffer'd?—

Regulus.
No matter what; to bear our Good or Ill
With equal Temp'rance is a Roman Virtue:—
My Wife!—my Children!—thus to see ye here—
O! be the Omen lucky and propitious,
That first presents the Objects dearest to me,
And teaches me, thro' them—to love my Country.
See, Decius, see, thou noble-minded Roman!
Whose great—whose wondrous, unexampled Friendship
Disclaim'd the Charms of native Liberty;
And follow'd Regulus to share his Bondage:
Behold this Cause for unaccustom'd Joy,
And share it with thy Friend—ye righteous Gods!
A Wife so faithful, and a Friend so true,
What can be added—but my Country happy?—

Mutius.
Why stand'st thou musing? join the publick Joy,
And hail this Idol.

Corvus.
Thou instruct'st me, Mutius:

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Amidst this general Joy for thy Return,
Let Corvus pour his Gratulations too,
And find 'em welcome.

Regulus.
Frank Sincerity,
Tho' no invited Guest is free to all,
And brings his Welcome with him:—Such I hope
Thine, Corvus, is—I'm sure it ought to be:
They should not find Deceit, who never meant it.

Corvus.
Who do not mean Deceit, do not expect it:
And your Distinction furnishes a Doubt,
A Doubt of me—Can Regulus suppose—

Regulus.
No, he disclaims all Rashness: Well he knows
That Supposition still out-flies Discretion,
And by a giddy Swiftness loses Certainty:
If thou art virtuous, let thy Actions speak it;
If not—we have seen Falshood—ev'n in Romans.

Corvus.
My Test of Honesty and Truth, be Tryal,
But, till I forfeit Honour, think I wear it;
Nor banish me thy Friendship—till unworthy.

Regulus.
Who lays a Claim to Regulus's Friendship,
Must first be Friend to Liberty and Rome:
The two firm Rocks on which all Friendships stand,
Are Love of Freedom, and our Country's Glory;
Piety, Valour, and paternal Love
Form the arising Pile: The other Virtues,
Candor, Beneficence, and moral Trust,
Are Super-structures, and adorn the Dome:
Prove thyself Master of so fair a Mansion—
And thou art prov'd my Friend.

Corvus.
I hope I shall


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Regulus.
There let it rest—O Decius!—what is Man,
When the worst Heart can wear the Brow of Virtue,
And false Appearance smile us to Destruction?—
And yet, what is he not, when crown'd with Truth,
With every social Virtue that thou wear'st?—
Then, then, we taste the Rapture of the Gods: