University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE Continues. Regulus appears beset by Lepidus, an Augur, all the Army; who in suppliant Postures surround him.
Reg.
Who has betraid me thus, and brought my Troops
To besiege me?

Lep.
Sir, I confess, 'twas I.

Reg.
Y' are grateful Lepidus, I advanced you
To honor, you'd sink me to the lowest shame;
Make me appear a Coward, and be forsworn.

Lep.
Well, Sir, we have not sworn you shall return,
We are not perjur'd if we hinder you.

Reg.
Yes but you are, y'are sworn to obey me.

Lep.
We may oppose you without Perjury,
If you destroy your self.

Reg.
I save myself,
When I am false, I'm Regulus no more,
But a soul Spectre, which in little time
You'll hate and loath, whatever you think now.

Lep.
Sir, this perhaps might force you from our hands,
If y' only went to die, for then you went
To the good Gods; you go to Furies now,
Who will torment you.

Reg.
Not beyond my strength.
I've got this profit by calamity,
That I have learnt to bear calamity.
I never did believe it was an evil,
But now I do not think it troublesome.
Misery by use into our nature grows.
I by enduring pains will torture them,
And burn them with their own infernal rage.

Lep.
But, Sir, you'll also torture your dear Friends,
We dare not let you go.

Reg.
How shall I scape?
Enter Metellus.
But the Proconsul comes, he'll do me right.
Sir, set me free from my distracted Friends,
Who would take from me more than Carthage can,
My Honor, Innocence, and their own Love;
For will they love me when I'm infamous?

Met.
Sir, something so divine appears in you,
I prostrate even my reason to your will.
Sir, if you wou'd resolve to stay with us,
No earthly power shall take you from our hands;
But if you will return, I offer up
My self, my Child, as Victims to your will,
For be assur'd we perish, Sir, with you.

Reg.
I perish if I stay, then set me free.

Met.
I'll do you then this dismal service, Sir,
If I am able; but I doubt it much:
I hardly can believe the Legions,
Which oppose your commands, will obey mine.

Reg.
I've thought upon a way—a word—give out,
Carthage has given me my mortal bane;
And in a sence it has.

aside.
Met.
A fatal truth!
I will do't, Sir, Pray Gentlemen draw near.
Follow no longer your mistaken Love,
It leads you to no purpose from your way.
The Carthaginians have the Consul fast,
They've given him his death.

Lep.
What? poyson'd him?

Met.
They have his life, 'tis theirs do what you can;
They've torn it to a wretched Remnant now,
Not worth his keeping, therefore give it 'em,
It is the price of their Damnation:
And let him have the glory he desires.

Lep.
Oh! treacherous Murderers!

Met.
Nay you trouble him.
Take hence your griefs, the Consul has enow,
Go, throw 'em on his bloody Enemies.

Lep.
The Villains are too few for revenge.
And, oh! too vile to recompence our loss;
The Carthaginian Nation cannot do't.
Oh! Consul! since we must not hope for you,
And your stay here reprieves your Murderers,
We will release you, to release our selves
To our just vengeance.

Reg.
Now I know you all.
I was afraid I had lost all my Friends;
That Punick air breath'd Punick souls in you,
And that you slighted Faith; which I believe
No Roman does, except a Roman Priest.
Mourn not for me, for that implys I'm fallen,
Rather calamity falls under me.
Applaud my happy fortunes, for I go
In triumph to a higher Capitol,
And more magnificent than that in Rome;
One in the Heavens, where living Jove resides.
True, I must first put off my flesh by death,
But that I with as small concern can do,
As men do Sandals at a Temple gate.
Now Friends farewel, thank you for all your Love,
And when I am in Carthage, storm the Town.
[Ex. Lep. & Army.
Now, Sir, thank you for an immortal life,
For you have open'd me the way to it;
And at no small expences to your heart.
Oh! Fulvia! there's my last great agony.

Met.
Sir, I have eas'd you of some part of it;
I met her flying t'ee, and stopp'd her way;
But might have spar'd the labor, for, alas!
Her sorrow often flung her dead on earth.
I left her senceless in her womens arms,
You may escape her now. Oh! no! she comes,
Comes like a Torrent, there's no stopping her.

Reg.
Nay then, what suff'rings have I to bear?
I fear my strength, and dare not meet her Eyes.

Enter Fulvia.
Ful.
Oh! Consul! Consul! what have you decreed?

Met.
Daughter, away.

Ful.
I cannot, cannot, Sir.
Pray pardon me, I'm not in my own power.
Oh! Consul! will y' abandon all your friends
For Slavery and Death, tormenting Death?

Met.
He's bound by Oath.

Ful.
Was he not so to me?
And by a Thousand Oaths, he had no right
To give himself away without my leave:
He's true to Murderers, and false to me.

Reg.
Dear Fulvia, calm your self, and use your reason,
You'll find I've acted as became a Man,
Who durst pretend to such a heart as yours.
Should such a Man betray the Rights of Rome
To save his life?

Ful.
Your death will ruine Rome,
And me, and all the World.

Reg.
No, Fulvia;
By dying I preserve the Rights of Rome,
Advance her Glory, and mine, and therefore yours
Now Rome will be my lofty Monument,
'Twill stand upon my Tomb, where I shall rest,
In a Bed fit for him whom Fulvia loves.

Ful.
Where shall I rest when Regulus is dead?
You take no care for me.

Reg.
Will you not rest
In my repose? can our united hearts
Have any joys, or griefs, both do not feel?

Ful.
I do not know your heart, but I believe
Your griefs afflict me more, than they do you.

Reg.
Too much, too much.
More than a Slave, as I am, can deserve.

Ful.
You are my Lord; more dear (if possible)
To me than ever: by your fall my heart
Is greatly bruis'd, and tend'rer than before;
More sensible of Sorrow; and of Love.
Then pity me, for my sake, go with me.

Reg.
I dare not do't, because I love you more,
Than to permit your sorrow to deceive you.
You seek to take with you; a Slave, a Coward,
A Thief, a Murderer; all this I must be,
If I return not. I shall break my Oath,
To steal my Freedom from the gallant Spartan
Who trusted me; and if I break my trust
I expose him to all my Sufferings,
And perhaps prove his bloody Murderer.
Would you have such a Villain as this with you?

Ful.
Oh! these are arts to hide your want of Love,
You love me not, ne're lov'd, you have deceived me.

Met.
Now Daughter you are too importunate.

Ful.
Oh! by my Love, I know he does not love,
I for no Joy on Earth could part with him;
He flies from me to Torments, and the Grave.

Met.
No, no, to Justice, Piety, Renown.

Ful.
He is unjust, I have a right in him,
I never did, I never will renounce.
To take himself from me is Robbery
And cruel Murder, it will be my death,
And this he knows; but he regards not me,
He can be tender of his Enemies,
And not of me.

Reg.
Oh! Madam! say not so.

Ful.
Go, go to Carthage, let her have her right,
And I'll have mine.
I've title to partake whate're is yours.
It seems Chains, Misery and Death are yours,
And all the fortune you have left your self.
Well I'll to Carthage wi' you, and have my share.

Reg.
To Carthage?

Ful.
Do you think I dare not do't?
Yes valiant Consul, I in some respects,
In resolution will transcend even you.
You are divine, above all sence of ill;
I'm a weak Woman, I have tender sence,
I can feel torments, yet I'll rush upon 'em.

Reg.
Sweet Fulvia, hear me.

Ful.
Oh! I love too much
To hear and see you; would I lov'd it less,
My misery and misfortune would be less.
Would I had never lent an Ear to you.
Yet you would now be heard. What should I hear,
Bloody Decrees against yourself and me?
Oh! I have heard too much, too much o' them.
And why should you expect I should hear you?
You regard not my Love, my Tears, my Blood.

Met.
Hold Fulvia, hold! you harm a dying Friend,
Who dyes for you and me, and for all Rome.
Why say you Misery is all the fortune
Of this great Man? is Glory of no price?
Are you a Roman, and want sence of glory?
All Ages will adore this wondrous Man,
Whom you wrong heavily. See, see, I swear,
Sh'as wrung Tears from him; now but that I know,
What thou hast said proceeds from raving Love,
For this great Sacriledge I'd strike thee dead.

Reg.
Oh! Sir! you now commit the cruelty
You charge her with, you wound a wounded heart.
I know her heart is bleeding now for me,
And what she says comes from her pain, not her;
She is most kind in what she seems unkind.

Ful.
Inndeed I am, and though your Love were lost.

Reg.
Oh say it not.

Ful.
I do not think it is;
But if it were, yet I must love you still,
Nay in calm thoughts adore you, and believe
You are too excellent, that's all your fault,
And my misfortune was, I lov'd too high.

Met.
Now Daughter you judge well, and do him right,

Ful.
Oh! 'twas my madness wrong'd him, and not I.

Reg.
I know't sweet Fulvia, and can I be false
To so much love! before I knew you lov'd,
I lov'd you so, that you were my chief aim.
In seeking Glory I sought chiefly you.
I fought for you, and now I dye for you,
By glorious Death more to deserve your Love;
And therefore be more lov'd; for if I dye
To keep my Faith with mortal Enemies.
Oh! think how firm my heart must be to you.
But shou'd I poorly live by breach of faith,
I should for ever lose you in both worlds;
You'd shun me here with scorn, and after death,
I for my Perjury shou'd shine in shades,
While you wou'd shine in Heaven; there is a Heaven.
This shred of Life cannot be all the Web,
Nature has wrought to cover divine Spirits;
There is a Heaven because there's misery.
The divine Power ever blest and good,
Made not the World for an ill natur'd jest,
To sport himself in pains of those he made.

Ful.
True, but for Heaven what must you endure?

Reg.
No more than what you cou'd endure for me.

Ful.
Oh! that I might, I'd run to it with joy.

Reg.
Then cannot I for you, sweet Fulvia?

Met.
So, y'ave prepared balm for the parting blow;
And that you may the better bear it to,
Take from each other your entangling Eyes.
I'll interpose and hide 'em—now, my Lord.

[Metellus goes between, Regulus offers to go. Fulvia holds him.]
Ful.
Hold, hold, I cannot, will not let you go.
I'll lose my arms before I'll lose my hold.
I know what you resolve is glorious;
But I'm a Woman, and my Love prevails;
And the more brave you are, the more I love,
And the less able am to part with you.

Reg.
Oh! I am in a tempting dangerous snare.

Ful.
Nay do not grieve, you cannot scape from me,
I shall release you soon, my heart will break.

[The Ghost of Apamia rises, Fulvia shreiks, and falls in her Womens Arms.
Met.
She shreiks and dies! her heart is broke indeed,
Poor Girl!

Reg.
Oh! now I see what made her shriek,
A frightful Messenger is come for me.

Met.
From Carthage?

Reg.
From the dead; 'tis my dead Wife.

[Ghost sinks.
Met.
I perceive nothing dead, but my poor Child;
I hope she's dead, life would afflict her now.

Reg.
Take notice Heaven, what we all endure
Only for Vertue. This one sweet last touch
Of this fair hand is the only recompence,
I shall receive for all I lose on Earth.

Met.
I'll see you to the Lines then take my leave.

[Ex.
[Fulvia recovers.]
Ful.
Oh! he is gone! he is for ever gone.
Fond tears be gone, such vain and vulgar sorrow
Does not become the grave of Regulus.
I'll strew his Tomb with Carthaginian Ruines.
And this whole Nation for his bloody death,
Shall weep to death in blood.—Ho, Lepidus.
Enter Lepidus.
Where is your Consul?

Lep.
He is near the Walls.
Where Thousands of us will be presently;
We are preparing for him a revenge.

Ful.
Come follow me—
I'm now your Consul, his Soul lives in me.
We'll bury Carthage so, that where it stood,
In future ages shall to few be known;
Some shall believe here never was a Town.

Ex.
SCENE Carthage.
Enter Asdrubal, Senators, and Attendants.
Asd.
Most noble Senators, will you be pleas'd
To tell my honorable Lords, the Senate,
I'll only give some necessary orders
About their Service, then attend their Pleasures.

Sen.
We shall, my Lord.

(Ex. Senators.
Asd.
I see the Senates craft;
I'm only us'd like Physic for a need;
With loathing forc'd upon 'em, and the wish'd
Effect once wrought, I shall be flung away.
For Commonwealths cannot bear glorious men,
By the confessions of the Priest and Gisgon
I am in danger, but I'll try to quash 'em.
I order'd the confessing Gentlemen
[To his Attend.
Should be brought to me.

1.
They are come, my Lord.

Enter Hiarbas, Gisgon, Batto, guarded.
Asd.
How the Rogues look and tremble, for my sport?
(aside.
I'll let their terrors worry 'em a while.

Gisg.
What will he do with us?

Hiar.
I do not know.
I'm under dreadful consternation.

Gisg.
How? are y' afraid of death, now it is come?
I've heard you crow over death on your own Dunghil.

Bat.
Oh! no profaneness in affliction, pray.

Gis.
Oh! now the wind sits there, y'ave a sore Throat;
At other times your swallow's large enough.

Asd.
The Rascals wrangle; and how pale they look?
The Priest there, has a face just like a Goose,
White every where, except about his Bill.
His Nose is faithful to the dye, Wine gave it.
Well, now my grave, my cheating face goes on.
(aside.
Oh! Gentlemen! I love and honor you.
Come to my arms.

Hiar.
What's this? come to his arms?

(aside.
Gis.
Has he not got an engine there to slash us?

(aside.
Asd.
You lov'd the Commonwealth above my life,
Or your own credit; you are honest men.
You play'd the part of Spies, oh, you did well.
To tell you truth, it was a part I play'd.
I was a Spy on you.

Gisg.
Indeed, my Lord?

Asd.
Indeed. But you had one great quality
Most fit for Spies, of which I had no share.
You scorn those scorns which always are the vales
Of that unlucky Office. I confess,
I was kept under by the fear of shame,
And partly by some tenderness for you:
I love you Gentlemen.

Gisg.
Your humble Servant.

Hiar.
Your Excellencies very humble Servant.

Gisg.
A noble Gentleman!

Bat.
A gallant Man!

Asd.
Besides I found no great necessity
To do you harm; when I had power enough
To hinder you from doing the State harm.
But that I never meant to wrong the State,
I swear before the Gods. Do not I know,
It is impossible to be King here?
Speak your minds Gentlemen, you never thought
I was so foolish as to be in earnest;
And stake my life at a sure losing game?

Hiar.
We knew not what to think of your Highness,
We acted as our Consciences directed.

Asd.
Oh! You did very well, y' are honest men.

Bat.

I can swear for your Highness, you never said one word to me, of
being King.

Asd.
Th'ast done me right, so must these Gentlemen,
Or they will bring great guilt upon themselves:
For Gentlemen, had you thought me in earnest,
You'd have inform'd, when first you knew my guilt.
Instead o'that, you never let it go
Till you cou'd purchase your own lives by it:
For, Sirs, can you deny the fear of death
Had not a mighty hand in this great work?

Gisg.
It had a little finger in't indeed.

Asd.
Well Gentlemen, y'ave serv'd the Senate well.
Now he that is an entire honest Man
Does right to all Men; clear my innocence,
Then both the Senate and myself must love you,
For having serv'd us both most honestly.
And let me tell you, it is in my power
To raise or ruine you; which I shall do.
According as I find you good or bad.

Hiar.
We had best stick to him, he's a great man

aside to Gis.
Gis.
Ay, and a very devillish cunning Man.

(aside.
Bat.
Ay, and an honest man for ought I know,
He never said a word to me of being King.

(aside.
Hiar.
This Fellows evidence too will mischief us.
—We'll serve your Highness.

Asd.
You are honest men.
Come we will to the Senate, they are sate.

(Ex.
SCENE The Senate House. The Senate sitting, the Pretor in the Chair.
Enter Asdrubal, Hiarbas, Gisgon, Batto.
Asd.
Most Honorable, Venerable Lords;
I have an infinite desire to serve you.
It is my sole ambition, whatsoe're
Some Men may tell you: but, alas! my arm
Is wither'd by a blast, these Gentlemen
Have blown upon me; I must do 'em right.
They have inform'd, I talk'd of being King.
'Tis true, I did; they started first the Talk.
The Apparition, of so great a Treason,
So scar'd me, that I knew not what to answer.
I soon reflected, I should better serve
The State by humoring these Gentlemen,
To find how far they'd dug in such a Mine,
Then I should do, by making 'em in frights
Conceal their works. But that I ever went
One step with 'em, or gave 'em cause to think,
I aim'd at being King, I do deny;
And they have prov'd by hiding long the Treason.
But I commend 'em that they e're discover'd it,
And humbly beg noble Rewards for 'em.

Pret.
What say you Gentlemen? d'ee think my Lord
Meant to be King?

Gis.
We know not what he meant.
We did discover it for fear he meant it;
But were not hasty in discovery,
Because it was not plain to us he meant it.

Pret.
It seems he would, and he would not be King.
Why, Sir, you baffle your own evidence.
What says your Reverence to this affair?

Hiar.
I do desire, as it becomes my Coat,
To have my name and conscience without spot.
I fear'd his Highness was ambitious;
To feel his pulse, I mov'd him to be King
His Highness did accept the tempting proffer.
To do my Duty to the State I told it.
But I must do his Highness right;
He ne're advanc'd one step in th'affair,
Or gave us cause to think he did approve it.
So I have conscientiously discharg'd
My Duty to the Senate, and his Highness.

Pret.
That is to say, y'ave play'd the Knave with both;
And with yourself the Fool, as you shall find.
What says, that Citizen?

Bat.
An't please your Honor,
His Highness never said one word to me
Of being King. All I know of th'affair
Was from his Reverence; he told me indeed,
His Highness had a fancy to be King:
And also said, if I would help his Highness
To keep a correspondence with the Romans,
If by the Romans help he got the Crown,
I shou'd be sure of very rich rewards.

1. Sen.
So, so, they've been disposing all our Money.

Pret.
And all our Lives; the Romans must ha' come.
By all y'ave said, y'ave fairly clear'd my Lord,
And charg'd yourselves. I think 'tis fit they die.
What says your Lordships?

Sen.
Ay, ay, hang 'em, hang 'em.

Gisg.
How? hang us?

Sen.
Go, away with 'em, and hang 'em.

Gisg.
My Lord, my Lord, will you let us be hang'd?

(To Asd.
Asd.
What wou'd you have me do? oppose the Senate?

Gisg.
We are all fop'd here, fop'd out of our lives.

Bat.
Oh! dear! I cannot dye! I cannot dye!

Pret.
Thou canst do nothing else, thou dyest with fear.

Bat.
I am not prepared to dye!

Gisg.
No, Sir, nor I.

Bat.
I have my Religion yet to chuse.

Gisg.
I have my hanging Equipage to make.
I desire to hang like a Man o' Quality.

Pret.
Dye piously, that's the best Equipage.

1. Sen.
They'r not content with hanging; torture 'em.

Gis.
Hold, hold! my Lords! we beg we may be hang'd.

Bat.
That's a sad thing! must we intreat a hanging?

2. Sen.
Away with 'em, and hang 'em presently.

Hiarbas, Gisgon, and Batto are guarded off.
Asd.
So Traytors now will have a care of me.
aside.
For I out-match 'em all at their own art.
Now venerable Lords my hands are free
To guard you.

Pret.
To destroy us all, we know you:

aside.
[A Noise of a Multitude, crying Justice, Justice.]
Enter Officer.
Offi.
My Lords, the Traytors are all executed;
And at their deaths conjured the Multitude,
If any thing they had was precious to 'em,
With utmost speed to quell Lord Asdrubal,
Or he'd be King, and they'd be all undone
So all the Town are at your gates, to beg.
You'll fling him to their mercy.

Pret.
We will do't.
Guards seize Lord Asdrubal, and carry him out
To be dispos'd as the good People please.

Asd.
As the base Rabble please your dirty Lords.
You take my life for what you ought to thank me.
I shou'd have honor'd you by being your King.
Had I been King, y'ad served a high born Prince.
Now you are Vassals to a nasty Rout.
Consound your Commonwealth Confound it
Continue it Heaven! that there may never live
A great Man here. In a base Commonwealth,
Merit is Treason; a great Man oppraised
His little Masters, by out-shining them
I'm your Oppressor now, your Tyrant now,
Fear of me tortures you; I give you Laws.
Shake and look pale! you do—Obedient Cowards!
While I have Life, I've Empire in my frown,
And in my courage a bright awfull Crown.

(Ex.
Pret.
Why? what a thundring Tyrant had this been
Upon a Throne, when he is thus in Fetters?

1. Sen.
'Tis well we're rid of him; wou'd with this ease
We cou'd be freed from the bold dangerous Spartan.
The Traytor Asdrubal has told some truth.
A Commonwealth bears no imparity.
A great Man is a Tumor, is a Disease.

Enter an Officer.
Offi.
My Lords, the Roman Consul is return'd.
The Spartan General attends,
With his great Prisoner, to know your pleasures.

Pret.
Go bring 'em in.
Enter Xantippus sad and dejected, Regulus bold and lively.
Ha! What means this? our General is sad.
Which is the Conqueror, and which the Captive?

Reg.
Have you forgotten me so soon my Lords?

Pret.
No, but you come with the air of a Triumpher.
Your Conqueror there comes like a mournful Prisoner.
Has he subdued you General since he went?

Xant.
Yes, and your Lordships too, he has o'recome,
In a more dreadful battle with his Friends,
Than e're he fought with your most valiant Troops;
Their griefs had sharper edges than your Swords:
He has o'recome 'em all, and now returns
To triumph here, and if I might prevail,
He shou'd triumph, and be led round the Town;
With Lawrels crown'd; t'encourage all your Subjects
To do for Carthage what he did for Rome;
For if you honor vertue in a Foe,
What may a great deserving Friend expect?

Pret.
Is this true, Regulus? have you brought war?

Reg.
I have done Justice both to Rome and you,
What Roman Valor got, I have preserv'd,
And hither brought myself your right by war.

1. Sen.
Be crown'd with Lawrels? torn with red hot Pincers.

Xant.
Be torn!

2. Sen.
Be torn. Go fetch the Torturers.

Xant.
Touch him that dares, he is my right.

Pret.
Once more,
Out-brave us all in our own Senate-house?
Xantippus know we are provided for you.
Our fond confiding in your faith and honor,
Expos'd us lately to your insolence.
Now we have fifty Thousand Men in arms,
Affront us now, no Spartan shall escape.

Xant.
Behave yourselves like Men, and we'll obey you.
But if you will be Lions, and devour
A valiant Man, only in love to blood;
We'll do our best to scowre your filthy den,
Happen what will to us.

Reg.
Gallant Xantippus.
No more, no more o' this, if y'are my Friend;
You torture me more than these Men can do,
For I shall glory in what they inflict.
But I sink down under your griefs and dangers:
I would not for the world lose this occasion
Of winning Glory to myself and Rome.

Pret.
Go, carry him away, and torture him.

Xan.
E're I will bear it, I'll be tortur'd with him.

(Ex.
Pret.
Was ever such amazing insolence?

1 Sen.
'Tis well we are behind hand with his pay.

Pret.
He puts a bloody cross on his accounts.

2 Sen.
'Tis the best piece o' service he e're did us.

After a Fight within, enter an Officer.
Off.
My Lords, take speedy course to save yourselves
And the whole City, or it will be lost.
The Spartan General has beat your Guards,
And finding he wants strength to fight the Town,
He has let in part o' the Roman Troops,
Commanded by a warlike Roman Virgin,
Contracted as they say to Regulus.
And she's come hither to revenge her Lover.

1 Sen.
Why, what a bold black Traytor is this Spartan?

Pret.
My Lord, I doubt we are the Traytors now,
The beaten Party always are the Traytors.

2 Sen.
The beaten Party? has he got all Carthage?

Off.
Oh! no! he's only Master of one Gate,
Which I believe he keeps for his retreat.
But he has strength enough to do great mischief,
Unless prevented.

Pret.
We will put a stop to't.
Where's Regulus?

Off.
He's forc'd out of our hands.

Pret.
Before he was tormented?

Off.
No, my Lord.

Pret.
Well, all the better, he cannot harm us.
Go to the Spartan General, and tell him,
We say, he has committed a high fault,
His King and Country would severely punish,
Should we complain of him; but for the sake
Of his past services we greatly love him.
If he will quickly leave the Town in peace,
And return home, all this shall be forgot;
We will provide him every thing he wants,
Money and Shipping.

Off.
I will let him know't.

(Ex.
Pret.
I will take care the Shipping shall be rotten,
And he shall sink, perhaps in sight of Carthage.

(Ex.
SCENE A Street in Carthage.
Enter Xantippus, Fulvia, and her Women.
Xant.
Oh! noble Virgin, in whose sacred breast,
The heart of the great Regulus is lodg'd.
Can you forgive the cruel Sacriledge
I have committed against him and you?
But I repent and have made some atonement.

Fulv.
I am not able, Sir, to answer you.
My Soul is torn with tortur'd Regulus,
For I am told, we come too late to save him.

Xant.
It is too true.

Fulv.
Is he alive or dead?

Xan.
He lives, and has the joy to know y're here.
I told it him, I did not think it safe
To bring you to him, e're he was prepar'd,
Lest the surprize shou'd scatter all his Spirits.
And still I am afraid the enterview
Will harm you both.

Fulv.
Sir, this short enterview,
Is all the wealth we hope for in this world;
And to be hinder'd of it, all the harm.
That can befall us now: if you repent
The ill y'ave done us, heap no more upon us.

Xant.
The Heavens forbid. Well you shall have your will.
He's nearer than you think, open the door.

The SCENE is drawn, and Regulus is discover'd fitting in a Chair bloody.
Fulv.
Oh! here's my Lord, all over wounds and blood.

Reg.
And have I liv'd to see my Fulvia?
Thou bringst me joy, can heal a thousand wounds,
Wou'dst thou not weep; but if thou weep'st, my Dear,
Thou wilt set all my wounds bleeding afresh.

Fulv.
Can any eye see this, and not burst out
In tears and blood? your barbarous Murderers
Have found a luxury in torturing you;
You are all over wounds.

Reg.
Oh! no, my Love!
My Soul's all over pleasure. Had I wounds
In Conscience or in Honor, I indeed
Were a poor creaturre fit to be lamented;
But as I am, I'm to be envied.
I have a Conscience which I would not change,
For all the Crowns on earth; and I have Honor,
Will live unrivall'd to Eternity;
And in my arms I've my dear Fulvia.

Xant.
And at your feet your weeping enemy,
Asking your pardon, and adoring you.

Reg.
Can there be then a happier man than I?
I have some wounds, it is no wonder sure,
A Soldier shou'd have wounds, and these I sought.
They give eternal life to my renown;
To me but a few pains, which now methinks,
Are gone, my Fulvia has heal'd 'em all.

Ful.
No, no, you say this to deceive my sorrow
I see your Agonies, Convulsions,
And feel 'em too; they tear my veins and nerves,
And I shall die without revenging you.
I did not doubt but to have offer'd up
This Town, a burning Victim to your Ghost;
A glory to which I had greatest right,
For by your suff'rings I have highest wrong.
Now all this wealth I must bequeath to others.
But for my suff'rings I have great rewards,
Since I in life have Regulus's love,
And in Elizium shall possess himself.

Reg.
For ever dear—But do not hasten thither
By dangerous ways; harm not thy beauteous self,
Lest I shou'd lose thee too, in the next world.
Dark is the passage to't, the clearest paths,
Are Vertue and Obedience to the Gods.
If 'tis their pleasure, suffer life a while.
A little time in this short life is much,
But it is nothing in eternity.
Some days cut off from thence, will not be miss'd.
I'll wait the coming of thy lovely shade,
At th'entrance of Elizium, which to me,
Will not be an Elizium till thou com'st.
I'm going, weep not, Fulvia, for no man
Can live with greater pleasure than I dye.

(Dyes.
Fulv.
He's gone! he's gone! oh! thou accursed Carthage!
May'st thou abhor and scorn all Honor, Virtue,
Piety, Faith, till thou art scorn'd by all.
May'st thou do Villanies may deserve hanging,
And then be fond of Tyrants that shall hang thee.
Ha! I'm not well; I burn, and my brain's sick;
All nature's sick, the frightned day starts back;
Abortive night is born before its time.
Some horrid thing is done, what is the news?

Xan.
Alas! she raves! sorrow has hurt her sence!

Fulv.
I'm told the Consuls murder'd, is it true?
I saw him lately, what's become of him?

Xant.
'Tis so alas, here's a great Spirit broke.

Fulv.
I'm to be married to him, I'll have him,
Though he be dead! Dead? no, he's but asleep.
The Bridegroom sleep before the Brides, abed,
Oh! fie upon't! I'll make him blush to morrow.
Undress, undress me Ladies, quickly, softly,
I'll steal to him, and never waken him,
Then i'th' morning I will rise a Virgin,
And we'll all laugh him out o' countenance, ha, ha.

Xan.
How does she mix together grief and mirth?
Ah? what confusion's in this noble mind?

Ful.
How pale and cold he is? like a Moon beam
In a clear frosty night, oh! he will starve me.

Xant.
Remove from hence the body, it disturbs her.

Regulus is carried off.
Fulv.
Warm, warm him some body. Ha! he is gone!
Then he is taken Pris'ner once again,
When he had paid his Ransom with his blood.
Oh! treacherous insatiable Villains!
Can nothing satisfie your thirst of blood.
I'll after 'em, my Sword, my Bow, my Horse;
Pursue, pursue, e're they are got to Carthage.

Ex.
She runs after Regulus.
Xan.
Follow, and hold her, lest she harm herself.

Enter Elisa.
El.
Away, away, my Lord, the Winds blow fair.
Both from the Heavens, and the Senate-house:
The Senate give you leave to return home,
Order you Money, and all things you need.
They sent this Officer, to express their pleasure.

Enter an Officer, who gives Xantippus Papers.
Xant.
I thankfully accept the Senates favor,
And will not give 'em trouble many days.
Wilt thou go with me?

El.
Will I stay behind?
If thou shou'dst sink in Seas, I'd follow thee;
Mount to the Heavens, if I stay behind,
It shall not be my fault; I will shake off
The luggage of this body to be with thee.
I've more good news, my Father will go with us.
And is providing shipping.

Xant.
Excellent Man!

El.
His care is needful, for he has discover'd
A horrible contrivance of ill men,
To sink thee and thy Troops, in rotten Ships.

Xan.
Oh! wicked place! well I will sink this Town;
I'll take thy Father and thyself away,
Whose Piety binds up the hands of Heaven;
Then Vengeance will have liberty to strike.
And I, my Love, shall need your Piety,
To guard me from the anger of the Gods.
I've ruin'd a most noble pair of Lovers,
The divine Regulus and Fulvia.
I greatly fear her sorrow and his blood.

Fulv.
You did not shed his blood but fought to save it.

Xant.
'Tis true, I did; and I will save his body
From any farther barb'rous violence;
I will convey it to his Camp with Honor.
And lovely Fulvia, dear, shall be your care.
Alas, she needs it, for her sence is gone.

Elis.
I will my Love.

Xant.
And then we will to Sparta,
And take up all our joy in Love and Vertue.
In these thou wilt find happiness enough.
Regulus found it so in spite of torments.
Vertue! thy joys no fortune can oppress;
Vice! thou art wretched spite of all success.
The aid of fortune is to Vertue vain;
To Vice a curse, and more augments the bane.

Ex.