 | Regulus |  |
SCENE the Roman Camp.
Enter on one side o' the Stage Metellus, Lepidus, and other Roman Commanders, on the other side Regulus.
Met.
Oh! Consul!
Reg.
Brave Metellus! brave friends all!
De'e weep? nay then it seems you are subdued.
Met.
Who ever saw such an amazing change?
Reg.
Does it amaze you to see fortune change?
The wonder wou'd be greater shou'd she fix.
She takes my freedom to maintain her own.
Remove your Eye from fortune my dark part,
And fix it on my self, who still remain
Not only unconquer'd, but invincible.
Yet o're victorious Carthage I'll triumph.
Met.
Oh! Sir! then have you terms for liberty?
Reg.
My liberty depends not on their will,
'Tis true, the freedom of my body does.
But that is born a slave, by nature bound
To serve the mind, a time prefixt by fate
And then turn'd over to new bonds in death.
Of this poor vassal I take little care.
How free my mind is, you shall soon perceive.
Met.
I tremble for him.
Reg.
Carthage to release
This Body, (which can never be releas'd
From vassallage to sufferings, and death)
Asks the refunding all our Victories.
Lep.
Agreed! one Regulus is worth 'em all.
For he'll regain 'em all.
Reg.
You shall not give
The smallest link out o' that golden Chain.
It fetters Carthage now, but if once broke
Carthage may scape, arise, nay enslave Rome.
I come to rule your dangerous love to me,
Which I fear more than Carthaginian Racks;
For these can give me but some painful hours
Which glory will allay, and death will end.
But you wou'd torture me with lingring shame,
Got by a treacherous and cowardly peace.
Then as your Consul, I command you all,
Give Carthage no more peace, than this short truce.
Met.
And what becomes o' you?
Reg.
I must return.
Man.
Oh! joyful news.
(Aside.
Lep.
Sir, you return to dye.
Reg.
It may be so.
Lep.
To a tormenting death.
Reg.
It may be so, my word and oath are past,
And nothing do I fear, like breach o' faith.
Met.
A glorious man.
(Aside.
Lep.
Will you forsake your friends,
To perish by your barb'rous enemies?
Reg.
I do not perish, if my honour lives;
But if I stay shall not my body dye?
Then shall I lose the honour I can keep,
To preserve life, which is not i' my power?
By keeping faith, o're Carthage I triumph,
A Roman Ghost will triumph over her.
Not by short pomp which blazes but some hours;
My triumph shall go on, from age to age,
While Rome shall stand, which shall the longer stand
For my example of unshaken Faith,
For what Foundation to a State like Faith?
Met.
Sir, I'm the less amaz'd at what I hear,
For all your life has been with wonders fill'd.
But I have not so great a heart as yours
I cannot let you go.
Lep.
He shall not go;
I will bring all the Army to his feet.
Reg.
Is't possible? I do command your stay.
Perform your duties both to Rome and me,
Let Rome have Carthage, and leave me to Heaven.
Metellus why de'e wrong your self and me?
Your Spirit equals mine, and for the World,
You wou'd not have me leave this glorious path.
Like Romans now receive my last adieus.
Lep.
He shall not go, his Troops shall stop his way.
(Aside.
Now take your leaves.
[Ex. Lep. Man. Commanders.
Met.
Oh! Sir! what you resolve
Has so much glory in't, I envy you.
But I must pity those, whom you forsake,
My self, your Children, my poor Fulvia.
Reg.
Metellus be assur'd, those you have nam'd,
Are dear to me, as they can be to you,
But Generals must discipline their thoughts.
The honor of the Gods and good of Rome
Must first command; next them I rank my friends,
These have o're me so great authority
I'm jealous o' my weakness, and their power;
And dare not trust my self with seeing 'em.
I'll ne're see Fulvia more.
Met.
Not see her, Sir?
Reg.
Oh! no, an enterview will raise our griefs
To such a tumult, 'twill not become me
To be seen in it. I'll serenely part,
And so retain my greatness to the last;
And this may less harm her.
Met.
Oh! Sir, she comes.
Reg.
Then I must fly, I cannot stay with her.
(Ex.
Enter Fulvia and her women.
Ful.
The Consul! Sir, the Consul! where is he?
A minutes absence more I cannot bear.
Met.
Oh! my unruly griefs will betray all.
(Aside.
Ful.
You sigh, nay more you strive to smother tears.
Met.
No you mistake.
Ful.
I do not; Sir, I see't.
Met.
Your fears impose on you.
Ful.
Convince me of it,
And let me see the Consul.
Met.
Wait awhile.
Ful.
I perish then.
Met.
Y'are rash, command your self.
Ful.
I cannot do it.
Met.
You must, he's busied now in a great work,
The greatest that was e're design'd by Man.
Ful.
Oh! what? and where?
Met.
Be not inquisitive.
Fulv.
Oh! why Sir, why? shall I not have a share
In all his Fortunes?
Met.
Ay, too much poor Girl.
(aside.
Let it suffice to know, his aims are now
Above what mortal Man ever attain'd.
And he will reach his aims now, seek no more.
(Exit)
Ful.
I must, I must enquire, I cannot rest;
This is all darkness and confusion.
Enter Lepidus.
Lep.
Oh! Madam! Madam! save the Consul's Life.
Ful.
Now the dire Mystery begins t'unvail.
I'm dying, speak whilst I have Life to hear.
Lep.
He cannot make an honorable peace,
So he is only come to command war;
Now to keep faith with faithless enemies,
Returns to dye.
Ful.
Y'ave struck me to the heart.
Lep.
Fly, Madam, or you'll never see him more.
His Army at the present bar his way,
But all their force will, without you, be vain.
Ful.
My reason, sence and life, before me fly;
The Consul will enjoy his cruel wish,
Nothing of mine will ever reach him more,
Unless my shreiks cut through the wounded air,
Or Winds hurl to him my torn scatter'd hair.
Enter on one side o' the Stage Metellus, Lepidus, and other Roman Commanders, on the other side Regulus.
Met.
Oh! Consul!
Reg.
Brave Metellus! brave friends all!
De'e weep? nay then it seems you are subdued.
Met.
Who ever saw such an amazing change?
Reg.
Does it amaze you to see fortune change?
The wonder wou'd be greater shou'd she fix.
She takes my freedom to maintain her own.
Remove your Eye from fortune my dark part,
And fix it on my self, who still remain
Not only unconquer'd, but invincible.
Yet o're victorious Carthage I'll triumph.
Met.
Oh! Sir! then have you terms for liberty?
Reg.
My liberty depends not on their will,
'Tis true, the freedom of my body does.
But that is born a slave, by nature bound
To serve the mind, a time prefixt by fate
And then turn'd over to new bonds in death.
Of this poor vassal I take little care.
How free my mind is, you shall soon perceive.
Met.
I tremble for him.
Reg.
Carthage to release
This Body, (which can never be releas'd
From vassallage to sufferings, and death)
Asks the refunding all our Victories.
Lep.
Agreed! one Regulus is worth 'em all.
For he'll regain 'em all.
44
You shall not give
The smallest link out o' that golden Chain.
It fetters Carthage now, but if once broke
Carthage may scape, arise, nay enslave Rome.
I come to rule your dangerous love to me,
Which I fear more than Carthaginian Racks;
For these can give me but some painful hours
Which glory will allay, and death will end.
But you wou'd torture me with lingring shame,
Got by a treacherous and cowardly peace.
Then as your Consul, I command you all,
Give Carthage no more peace, than this short truce.
Met.
And what becomes o' you?
Reg.
I must return.
Man.
Oh! joyful news.
(Aside.
Lep.
Sir, you return to dye.
Reg.
It may be so.
Lep.
To a tormenting death.
Reg.
It may be so, my word and oath are past,
And nothing do I fear, like breach o' faith.
Met.
A glorious man.
(Aside.
Lep.
Will you forsake your friends,
To perish by your barb'rous enemies?
Reg.
I do not perish, if my honour lives;
But if I stay shall not my body dye?
Then shall I lose the honour I can keep,
To preserve life, which is not i' my power?
By keeping faith, o're Carthage I triumph,
A Roman Ghost will triumph over her.
Not by short pomp which blazes but some hours;
My triumph shall go on, from age to age,
While Rome shall stand, which shall the longer stand
For my example of unshaken Faith,
For what Foundation to a State like Faith?
Met.
Sir, I'm the less amaz'd at what I hear,
For all your life has been with wonders fill'd.
But I have not so great a heart as yours
I cannot let you go.
Lep.
He shall not go;
I will bring all the Army to his feet.
Reg.
Is't possible? I do command your stay.
Perform your duties both to Rome and me,
Let Rome have Carthage, and leave me to Heaven.
Metellus why de'e wrong your self and me?
Your Spirit equals mine, and for the World,
You wou'd not have me leave this glorious path.
Like Romans now receive my last adieus.
45
He shall not go, his Troops shall stop his way.
(Aside.
Now take your leaves.
[Ex. Lep. Man. Commanders.
Met.
Oh! Sir! what you resolve
Has so much glory in't, I envy you.
But I must pity those, whom you forsake,
My self, your Children, my poor Fulvia.
Reg.
Metellus be assur'd, those you have nam'd,
Are dear to me, as they can be to you,
But Generals must discipline their thoughts.
The honor of the Gods and good of Rome
Must first command; next them I rank my friends,
These have o're me so great authority
I'm jealous o' my weakness, and their power;
And dare not trust my self with seeing 'em.
I'll ne're see Fulvia more.
Met.
Not see her, Sir?
Reg.
Oh! no, an enterview will raise our griefs
To such a tumult, 'twill not become me
To be seen in it. I'll serenely part,
And so retain my greatness to the last;
And this may less harm her.
Met.
Oh! Sir, she comes.
Reg.
Then I must fly, I cannot stay with her.
(Ex.
Enter Fulvia and her women.
Ful.
The Consul! Sir, the Consul! where is he?
A minutes absence more I cannot bear.
Met.
Oh! my unruly griefs will betray all.
(Aside.
Ful.
You sigh, nay more you strive to smother tears.
Met.
No you mistake.
Ful.
I do not; Sir, I see't.
Met.
Your fears impose on you.
Ful.
Convince me of it,
And let me see the Consul.
Met.
Wait awhile.
Ful.
I perish then.
Met.
Y'are rash, command your self.
Ful.
I cannot do it.
Met.
You must, he's busied now in a great work,
The greatest that was e're design'd by Man.
Ful.
Oh! what? and where?
Met.
Be not inquisitive.
Fulv.
Oh! why Sir, why? shall I not have a share
In all his Fortunes?
Met.
Ay, too much poor Girl.
(aside.
Let it suffice to know, his aims are now
Above what mortal Man ever attain'd.
And he will reach his aims now, seek no more.
(Exit)
46
I must, I must enquire, I cannot rest;
This is all darkness and confusion.
Enter Lepidus.
Lep.
Oh! Madam! Madam! save the Consul's Life.
Ful.
Now the dire Mystery begins t'unvail.
I'm dying, speak whilst I have Life to hear.
Lep.
He cannot make an honorable peace,
So he is only come to command war;
Now to keep faith with faithless enemies,
Returns to dye.
Ful.
Y'ave struck me to the heart.
Lep.
Fly, Madam, or you'll never see him more.
His Army at the present bar his way,
But all their force will, without you, be vain.
Ful.
My reason, sence and life, before me fly;
The Consul will enjoy his cruel wish,
Nothing of mine will ever reach him more,
Unless my shreiks cut through the wounded air,
Or Winds hurl to him my torn scatter'd hair.
| Regulus | |