Regulus :: :: University of Virginia Library

Regulus, Decius, Clelia.
Regulus.
Decius thou com'st to warn me—from the Senate
What Message bring'st thou?

Decius.
Heart-deliver'd Greetings!
Such as no Love, no Friendship ever breath'd:
The Fervency of Thanks for his Deliverance,
When the wreck'd Sailor finds himself on Land
Gives but a faint Idea of their Zeal:
Nothing is seen or heard throughout the Senate,
But Tears and Exclamations:—For the Traytors,
Proofs were so plain, that with a general Voice,
The Rock Tarpeian was pronounc'd their Doom—
Which they have leap'd e'er this.

Regulus.
I thank their Loves;
They've given me Strength I wanted:—O my Friend!
Long hast thou follow'd with unwearied Steps,

My worst of Fortunes, to their present Close;
(An uncouth Office for thy gentle Youth)
Here shall we part, and all I can bestow
Of Happiness, approaches thee in her:
Come nearer, Clelia—Decius take her Hand;
Unwealth'd—but not undowr'd; accept a Maid,
Whom Virtue will make rich, and Honour great:
I know your mutual Loves, and Heav'n prolong it,
Ev'n to the latest Moment of your Lives.

Decius.
On any other but this sad Occasion,
This Gift had been too great for common Joy:—
This was my utmost Wish—yet at the present
'Tis so embittered with the losing thee,
The Sweet is scarcely tasted—O my Father!—

Regulus.

No more, good Decius!—let us part like Men:—
Keep in thy Tears—they are but Nature's Weakness,
And the Confession Pain extorts from us,
When it wou'd prove the frailty of our Beings:
Leave 'em to Women—there they look with Grace—
Dimming and adding Lustre to the Eye.

Clelia! I have bestow'd thee to thy Wish;
Let not thy Wish be Neighbour to Dislike,
As some have prov'd it: There are of thy Sex,
Who, thro' the Glass of straining Expectation,
Look for the Blessing, e'er Enjoyment comes;
That over—then their Prospect is no more,
But thro' Satiety's sick Eye—
Clelia, be thou as constant in the Race,
As thou was constant who shou'd start with thee:
And so regard your Husband, that you love him,
Not for you shou'd obey him—but obey him,
Because you love him:—Note this in thy Heart.

Clelia.
I hope I shall not profit by my Father
So little, not to prove myself his Daughter:

My Conduct shall be form'd on such a Plan,
That were my Father witness of each Step,
He shou'd not find Occasion to disown me.

Regulus.
'Tis well resolv'd:—Decius, my Time is short—
And yet another tender Call invites me,
E'er I go hence for ever—yet, my Son,
I will devote a little of that Time,
To leave thee my last Precepts—my last Counsel.

Decius.
Impart—and I will wear 'em in my Heart,
Dear as the Memory of him that gave 'em.

Regulus.

If Rome shou'd raise thee to her highest Service,
(As thou hast Merit to expect her Honours)
Serve her for Love of Rome, and not of Interest;
Let Glory be thy second Motive only,
Thy Country's Love be ever first, and dearest:
In Liberty's Defence, fight constant, single
Die with her—'tis no Life if you survive her;
The greatest Glory of a free-born People,
Is to transmit that Freedom to their Children.

Search out for hidden Worth—and then reward it:
The noblest Prospect to a Roman Eye,
Is Greatness, lifting Merit up to Fame.

Let Falshood be a Stranger to thy Lips;
Shame on the Policy that first began
To tamper with the Heart to hide its Thoughts!
And double Shame on that inglorious Tongue,
That sold its Honesty, and told a Lie!

Decius.
I hope this Caution is unnecessary:

Regulus.

I do believe it; but receive it, Decius,
Not as a Precept to amend thy Life;
But one that cannot be too oft remember'd.

Be ready for all Changes in thy Fortune,

Be constant when they happen—but, above all,
Mostly distrust good Fortune's soothing Smile;
There lurks the Danger, though we least suspect it:

Hunt for no Offices;—accept them offer'd—
But never to the wrong of suffering Merit:
Or thy own Virtue—there may chance a time,
When by refusing Honours—you most gain 'em.

Decius.
How shall I fill Rome's Offices with Justice,
When thou, my great Instructor art away?
What great Example shall direct my Steps,
When Regulus is silent and no more?

Regulus.

Decius, thy Virtue is thy best Instructor
She will direct thee right:—but to proceed

If thy paternal Acres be well till'd,
Thou hast a Superfluity; for Gold,
See it adorn the Temples of the Gods,
But banish it your Coffers, and your House:
Let the Vain-glorious, or the Villain hoard it,
Who loves a Flatterer—or who sells his Country:—
Be honest Poverty thy boasted Wealth;
So shall thy Friendships be sincere, tho' few,
So shall thy Sleep be sound—thy Waking chearful.

I cou'd say more—but, O excuse me, Decius—
For see where Martia comes—her Sorrows speak
Unaided by the Tongue—more eloquent
The Look is in Distress—than Speech can be:
When Sorrow swims in the Tear-flooded Eye,
Words need not form a Language for the Heart:—
Decius, farewel!—If my Prediction's true,
While Rome has Honours, and neglects thy Service,
She will do wrong to Merit and herself.

Decius.
Farewel, my Father!—O I must retire—
Lest I shou'd shame thy Manhood with my Weakness:—

'Tis not I find to common Natures given
To bear Misfortunes like a Regulus.