 | Regulus |  |
SCENE Hamilcars House.
Enter Hamilcar, and a Gentleman.
Ham.
Where is the Spartan General.
Gen.
Gone to view
The new Recruits, encamp'd before the Town,
But he's return'd, I see him come this way.
Exit.
Enter Xantippus.
Ham.
Oh welcome! brave Protector of our State,
What News out o'the Feild? I need not ask.
I see a mournful paleness on your cheek.
Xant.
There is a burning Face you do not mind
The Face of Heav'n scorch'd with you flaming Towns.
The great victorious Roman Regulus,
Is not content to take your Seas and Lands,
He also means to conquer all your Skys;
Look out you'll see him scaling Heav'n by fire.
Ham.
What need he? he's already Master there
Since his bold landing here, no happy Star,
Has corresponded with our falling State;
As if he barr'd up all the Roads above,
As he does those of our lost Provinces.
Xant.
Would he could bar up all the Roads of Hell;
That Hell might have no correspondence here.
Ham.
Ay, that commerce has brought our Commonwealth,
From a stupendious height of Power and Wealth,
To be a Beggar, and a public Charge,
Depending on our Neighbours Charity.
Had not you brought your Spartans to our aid
We must ha' sunk; and we are so corrupt
I think it is a sin to buoy us up,
And destroy men who ought to be ador'd.
To preserve men who ought to be destroy'd.
The meanest Roman seems the Son of Jove,
And mighty Regulus seems Jove himself.
Xan.
Well we must make a speedy desperate push,
Or else between the glorious Regulus,
And corrupt Asdrubal we shall be crush'd
Asdrubal gets the ground we lose in Town,
And Regulus our Provinces abroad.
And this good man, our honest careful spy
Tells me, the Romans look the next fair wind
Shoud land 'em here, at least two Legions more.
Spy.
My Lord, they are expected every hour.
Ham.
Then we can soon determine what to do.
If they are now too great a weight for us,
What will they be when they have this supply?
Xan.
'Tis true, therefore to day I'll to the Scale,
And I have hope, for I perceive of late,
In my brave Enemy some levity.
He's wanton with success and plays with you,
As if he were asham'd of being grave
In such a trifling thing, as fighting me.
I hope to make good use of this to day.
Mean while, my Lord, pray make this Town your care,
Your Province is as dangerous as mine.
For you must deal with treacherous Enemies.
Ham.
My Lord, I'll take what Post you please to give me.
For our Republick, ay and Nature too,
Have made you my superior.
Xan.
How my Lord?
Are not you Father of my fair Elisa?
And in her love the maker of my Fortunes?
And shortly you will be my Father too.
Oh! what a noble Friend y'ave been to me?
To oblige me you have expos'd your life.
I was so bold for your fair Daughters love,
To Rival Asdrubal, a mighty Prince;
And you as bold gave me the preference.
And by that means have brought his rage upon you.
How brave is this? and oh! how generous!
For I'm a Subject to the Spartan State,
Where Kings are poor; and he's a Prince in Carthage,
Where Subjects have more Riches than some Kings.
But see the lovely Elisa comes this way,
Have I your leave to talk with her a while?
Ham.
You need not ask it, she's more yours than mine.
For I have given you all my right in her;
And now retire to give you liberty.
Exit.
Spy.
Your Lordship has no more commands for me?
Xan.
Only to hide with care from every man,
That I employ you to the Roman Camp.
For if the factious men shou'd come to know,
They'd put a false malicious sense upon't;
And from it work much mischief.
Spy.
I'll conceal it.
Exit.
Enter Elisa, and her Woman.
El.
Oh! here's my Lord.
Xan.
My Love! thou tremblest, Dear!
El.
Have I not cause?
All Carthage has been shaken with the shouts
Of the vast Crouds that follow Asdrubal.
They say he will be King; well if he be,
I'll be a Ghost; he hunts me eagerly:
But I abhor him; I had rather be
The ashes of your Wife, in a cold Urn,
Than in Golden Bed his living Queen.
Xan.
Oh! my kind Love! how shall I answer thee?
We Spartans shun all lux'ry, even in words.
We plainly dress our bodies, and our thoughts.
I can but say, I love.
El.
And that's enough.
They who buy Plate by weight, regard the Mettal,
And not the Art about it; words receive
A higher price from truth, than art or wit.
I know thou lov'st me, for thou hast for me
Despis'd a hundred shining beauties here,
Who languish for thee.
Xan.
Thou hast shunn'd for me,
Not only wealthy Youth, but Wealth it self,
I have no Gold, nay more, I must have none.
Our Sparta abhors riches as a Pest.
We will not suffer the least Symptom there
Of Wealth or Luxury to shew it self.
I dare no more shew fair Elisa's breast
Cover'd with Rubies, than infectious hears.
Nor her white slender Fingers hid in Rings,
Than with foul Tumors. Finery we loath,
And think the breaking out of a rank mind.
Yet thou art willing, Dear, to go with me,
And leave thy Robes and Jewels.
El.
What are those?
The Liveries we Slaves to Fashions wear.
Alas! I have not seen 'em many a day.
Since I've seen thee, I have seen nothing else.
My eyes and thoughts have all been upon thee.
Xant.
My Dear! yet we in Sparta are not poor,
There's no one there without a great Estate.
For every one owns the whole Commonwealth,
Which must provide him ev'ry thing he wants.
The Law takes measure of us all for Cloaths,
Diets us all, and in the sight of all,
To keep us from all private Leagues with Wealth.
There every Town seems but one Family,
Where all attir'd alike, and modestly,
Do at one common Table eat plain Food.
El.
Why say you Sparta forbids Luxury?
You live in all the Luxury of Heaven.
Love, Peace and Vertue are the Joys of Gods.
Xan.
Indeed we ha' not much domestic strife;
We measure all things equally to all.
So none like Billows rise to make a Storm.
Even Priests and Lawyers live in quiet there.
El.
Have you no Titles and Distinctions there?
Xan.
Only what Merit makes; we mind not Blood,
Nor a vain Title floating on that Stream.
Only great Actions there beget great Sounds.
Your high-sprung Blood in Sparta will be lost:
I mean all your Precedencies of Birth.
You must give place to aged Matrons there,
Whose greatest Riches are their silver Hairs.
El.
Let me have the Precedence in your Heart,
And let who will take all the World beside.
Xan.
Oh! we shall be luxurious in Love;
But that will be no breach of Spartan Laws.
El.
Well, when shall we enjoy this happy Life,
And leave our Carthaginian Prison here?
So the victorious Romans make this Town.
Xan.
I do not know, I'll try my Fate this day,
This day shall be the last deciding Battle.
I'll be a Conqueror, a Slave, or Ghost.
Elis.
A Ghost? a damp evapo'rates from the word
Which sickens me to death.
Xan.
Ha! ha! ha!
El.
D'ye laugh at me?
Xan.
My Dear! thou put'st me in mind of Novices
Who when they first meet danger, duck at Arrows,
But when their maid'nly terrors are all o'er,
Laugh at themselves, as thou wilt do in time.
El.
Sure when your life's expos'd, I shall not laugh.
Xan.
A Soldiers life lies wholly in his honour;
And that lives best in danger. If thou hear'st
My honour's lost, shed pitying tears for me;
And think thou art a widow though I live:
But if my honour lives, though I am kill'd,
Triumph; and shed no tears but those of Joy,
For that's the manner of a Spartan Wife.
And so farewell.
El.
Thou shalt not go.
Xan.
Away.
[He rushes out.
El.
Then can you cast me off? Oh! cruel man!
Lead, lead me to my bed and bind my hands,
Or I shall do some violence to my self.
Shall I be thus when I am marrried?
I do not find all Soldiers wives are thus:
Marriage perhaps may teach me wit, and I
May learn to let my Husband fight, and dye.
Exit.
Enter Hamilcar, and a Gentleman.
Ham.
Where is the Spartan General.
Gen.
Gone to view
The new Recruits, encamp'd before the Town,
But he's return'd, I see him come this way.
Exit.
Enter Xantippus.
Ham.
Oh welcome! brave Protector of our State,
What News out o'the Feild? I need not ask.
I see a mournful paleness on your cheek.
Xant.
There is a burning Face you do not mind
The Face of Heav'n scorch'd with you flaming Towns.
The great victorious Roman Regulus,
Is not content to take your Seas and Lands,
He also means to conquer all your Skys;
Look out you'll see him scaling Heav'n by fire.
Ham.
What need he? he's already Master there
Since his bold landing here, no happy Star,
Has corresponded with our falling State;
As if he barr'd up all the Roads above,
As he does those of our lost Provinces.
Xant.
Would he could bar up all the Roads of Hell;
That Hell might have no correspondence here.
Ham.
Ay, that commerce has brought our Commonwealth,
From a stupendious height of Power and Wealth,
To be a Beggar, and a public Charge,
6
Had not you brought your Spartans to our aid
We must ha' sunk; and we are so corrupt
I think it is a sin to buoy us up,
And destroy men who ought to be ador'd.
To preserve men who ought to be destroy'd.
The meanest Roman seems the Son of Jove,
And mighty Regulus seems Jove himself.
Xan.
Well we must make a speedy desperate push,
Or else between the glorious Regulus,
And corrupt Asdrubal we shall be crush'd
Asdrubal gets the ground we lose in Town,
And Regulus our Provinces abroad.
And this good man, our honest careful spy
Tells me, the Romans look the next fair wind
Shoud land 'em here, at least two Legions more.
Spy.
My Lord, they are expected every hour.
Ham.
Then we can soon determine what to do.
If they are now too great a weight for us,
What will they be when they have this supply?
Xan.
'Tis true, therefore to day I'll to the Scale,
And I have hope, for I perceive of late,
In my brave Enemy some levity.
He's wanton with success and plays with you,
As if he were asham'd of being grave
In such a trifling thing, as fighting me.
I hope to make good use of this to day.
Mean while, my Lord, pray make this Town your care,
Your Province is as dangerous as mine.
For you must deal with treacherous Enemies.
Ham.
My Lord, I'll take what Post you please to give me.
For our Republick, ay and Nature too,
Have made you my superior.
Xan.
How my Lord?
Are not you Father of my fair Elisa?
And in her love the maker of my Fortunes?
And shortly you will be my Father too.
Oh! what a noble Friend y'ave been to me?
To oblige me you have expos'd your life.
I was so bold for your fair Daughters love,
To Rival Asdrubal, a mighty Prince;
And you as bold gave me the preference.
And by that means have brought his rage upon you.
How brave is this? and oh! how generous!
For I'm a Subject to the Spartan State,
7
Where Subjects have more Riches than some Kings.
But see the lovely Elisa comes this way,
Have I your leave to talk with her a while?
Ham.
You need not ask it, she's more yours than mine.
For I have given you all my right in her;
And now retire to give you liberty.
Exit.
Spy.
Your Lordship has no more commands for me?
Xan.
Only to hide with care from every man,
That I employ you to the Roman Camp.
For if the factious men shou'd come to know,
They'd put a false malicious sense upon't;
And from it work much mischief.
Spy.
I'll conceal it.
Exit.
Enter Elisa, and her Woman.
El.
Oh! here's my Lord.
Xan.
My Love! thou tremblest, Dear!
El.
Have I not cause?
All Carthage has been shaken with the shouts
Of the vast Crouds that follow Asdrubal.
They say he will be King; well if he be,
I'll be a Ghost; he hunts me eagerly:
But I abhor him; I had rather be
The ashes of your Wife, in a cold Urn,
Than in Golden Bed his living Queen.
Xan.
Oh! my kind Love! how shall I answer thee?
We Spartans shun all lux'ry, even in words.
We plainly dress our bodies, and our thoughts.
I can but say, I love.
El.
And that's enough.
They who buy Plate by weight, regard the Mettal,
And not the Art about it; words receive
A higher price from truth, than art or wit.
I know thou lov'st me, for thou hast for me
Despis'd a hundred shining beauties here,
Who languish for thee.
Xan.
Thou hast shunn'd for me,
Not only wealthy Youth, but Wealth it self,
I have no Gold, nay more, I must have none.
Our Sparta abhors riches as a Pest.
We will not suffer the least Symptom there
Of Wealth or Luxury to shew it self.
I dare no more shew fair Elisa's breast
Cover'd with Rubies, than infectious hears.
Nor her white slender Fingers hid in Rings,
8
And think the breaking out of a rank mind.
Yet thou art willing, Dear, to go with me,
And leave thy Robes and Jewels.
El.
What are those?
The Liveries we Slaves to Fashions wear.
Alas! I have not seen 'em many a day.
Since I've seen thee, I have seen nothing else.
My eyes and thoughts have all been upon thee.
Xant.
My Dear! yet we in Sparta are not poor,
There's no one there without a great Estate.
For every one owns the whole Commonwealth,
Which must provide him ev'ry thing he wants.
The Law takes measure of us all for Cloaths,
Diets us all, and in the sight of all,
To keep us from all private Leagues with Wealth.
There every Town seems but one Family,
Where all attir'd alike, and modestly,
Do at one common Table eat plain Food.
El.
Why say you Sparta forbids Luxury?
You live in all the Luxury of Heaven.
Love, Peace and Vertue are the Joys of Gods.
Xan.
Indeed we ha' not much domestic strife;
We measure all things equally to all.
So none like Billows rise to make a Storm.
Even Priests and Lawyers live in quiet there.
El.
Have you no Titles and Distinctions there?
Xan.
Only what Merit makes; we mind not Blood,
Nor a vain Title floating on that Stream.
Only great Actions there beget great Sounds.
Your high-sprung Blood in Sparta will be lost:
I mean all your Precedencies of Birth.
You must give place to aged Matrons there,
Whose greatest Riches are their silver Hairs.
El.
Let me have the Precedence in your Heart,
And let who will take all the World beside.
Xan.
Oh! we shall be luxurious in Love;
But that will be no breach of Spartan Laws.
El.
Well, when shall we enjoy this happy Life,
And leave our Carthaginian Prison here?
So the victorious Romans make this Town.
Xan.
I do not know, I'll try my Fate this day,
This day shall be the last deciding Battle.
I'll be a Conqueror, a Slave, or Ghost.
Elis.
A Ghost? a damp evapo'rates from the word
Which sickens me to death.
9
Ha! ha! ha!
El.
D'ye laugh at me?
Xan.
My Dear! thou put'st me in mind of Novices
Who when they first meet danger, duck at Arrows,
But when their maid'nly terrors are all o'er,
Laugh at themselves, as thou wilt do in time.
El.
Sure when your life's expos'd, I shall not laugh.
Xan.
A Soldiers life lies wholly in his honour;
And that lives best in danger. If thou hear'st
My honour's lost, shed pitying tears for me;
And think thou art a widow though I live:
But if my honour lives, though I am kill'd,
Triumph; and shed no tears but those of Joy,
For that's the manner of a Spartan Wife.
And so farewell.
El.
Thou shalt not go.
Xan.
Away.
[He rushes out.
El.
Then can you cast me off? Oh! cruel man!
Lead, lead me to my bed and bind my hands,
Or I shall do some violence to my self.
Shall I be thus when I am marrried?
I do not find all Soldiers wives are thus:
Marriage perhaps may teach me wit, and I
May learn to let my Husband fight, and dye.
Exit.
| Regulus | |