University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Scene a Portico of a Palace without the Gates of Rome the abode of the Carthaginian Ambassador.
Enter Regulus, and Publius meeting.
REGULUS.
Ah! Publius here, at such a time as this?
Know'st thou th'important question that the Senate
This very hour debate?—thy country's glory,
Thy father's honour and the public good?
And lingerest here?

PUBLIUS.
They're not yet met.

REGULUS.
Away—
Support my counsel in th'assembled senate,
Confirm their wav'ring virtue by thy courage,
And Regulus shall glory in his boy.

PUBLIUS.
Ah! spare thy son the most ungrateful task.
What!—supplicate the ruin of my father?

REGULUS.
The good of Rome can never hurt her sons.

PUBLIUS.
In pity to thy children, spare thyself.

REGULUS.
Dost thou then think that mine's a frantic brav'ry,
That Regulus wou'd rashly seek his fate?
Publius! how little dost thou know thy sire!
Misjudging youth! learn, that like other men,
I shun the evil, and I seek the good,
But that I find in guilt, and this in virtue.
Were it not guilt, guilt of the blackest dye,
Even to think of freedom at th'expence
Of my dear bleeding country? therefore life
And liberty wou'd be my heaviest evils;
But to preserve that country, to restore her,
To heal her wounds tho' at the price of life
Is virtue—therefore servitude, and death,
Are Regulus's good—his wish—his choice.

PUBLIUS.
Yet sure our country—

REGULUS.
Is a whole, my Publius,
Of which we all are parts, nor should a citizen
Regard his interests as distinct from her's;
No hopes, or fears shou'd touch his patriot soul,
But what affect her honor, or her shame.
Ev'n when in hostile fields he bleeds to save her,
'Tis not his blood he loses, 'tis his country's;
He only pays her back a debt he owes.
To her he's bound for birth, and education:
Her laws secure him from domestic feuds,
And from the foreign foe her arms protect him.
She lends him honors, dignity, and rank,
His wrongs revenges, and his merit pays;
And like a tender, and indulgent mother,
Loads him with comforts, and wou'd make his state
As bless'd as nature, and the Gods design'd it.
Such gifts, my son, have their alloy of pain,
And let th'unworthy wretch who will not bear
His portion of the public burthen, lose
Th'advantages it yields,—let him retire
From the dear blessings of a social life,
Renounce the civiliz'd abodes of man,
And with associate brutes a shelter seek
In horrid wilds, and dens, and dreary caves,
And with their shaggy tenants share the spoil;
Or if the savage hunters miss their prey,
From scatter'd acorns pick a scanty meal,—
Far from the sweet civilities of life;
There let him live, and vaunt his wretched freedom.

PUBLIUS.
With reverence and astonishment I hear thee!
Thy words, my father, have convinc'd my reason,
But cannot touch my heart—nature denies
Obedience so repugnant to her feelings.
Alas! can I forget I am a son?

REGULUS.
A poor excuse, unworthy of a Roman!
Brutus, Virginus, Manlius—they were fathers

PUBLIUS.
'Tis true, they were; but this heroic greatness,
This glorious elevation of the soul,
Hath been confin'd to fathers—Rome 'till now
Boasts not a son of such surpassing virtue,
Who, spurning all the ties of blood, and nature,
Hath labor'd to procure his father's death.

REGULUS.
Then be the first to give the great example—
Go, hasten, be thyself that son, my Publius.—

PUBLIUS.
My father! ah!

REGULUS.
Publius, no more, begone—
Attend the senate—let me know my fate,
'Twill be more glorious if announc'd by thee.

PUBLIUS.
Too much, too much, thy rigid virtue claims
From thy unhappy son. Oh nature, nature!

REGULUS.
Publius! am I a stranger, or thy father?
If thou regard'st me as an alien here,
Learn to prefer to mine the good of Rome;
If as a father—reverence my commands.

PUBLIUS.
Ah! could'st thou look into my inmost soul,
And see how warm it burns with love, and duty,
Thou would'st abate the rigor of thy words.

REGULUS.
Could I explore the secrets of thy breast,
The virtue I wou'd wish shou'd flourish there
Were fortitude, not weak complaining love.

PUBLIUS.
If thou requir'st the blood of Publius,
I'll shed it all, and grieve to do so little;
But when thou dost injoin the harsher task
Of lab'ring to procure my father's death,
Forgive thy son—he has not so much virtue.
Exit Publius.

Manet Regulus.

Enter Manlius, speaking.
See that the lictors wait, and guard the entrance—
Take care that none intrude.

REGULUS.
Ah! Manlius here?
What can this mean?

MANLIUS.
Where, where is Regulus?
The great, the god-like, the invincible?
Oh let me strain the hero to my breast.—

REGULUS,
avoiding him.
Manlius, stand off, remember I'm a slave!
And thou Rome's Consul—

MANLIUS.
I am something more:
I am a man enamour'd of thy virtues;
Thy fortitude and courage have subdued me.
I was thy rival—I am now thy friend,
Allow me that distinction, dearer far
Than all the honors Rome can give without it.

REGULUS.
This is the temper still of noble minds,
And these the blessings of an humble fortune.
Had I not been a slave, I ne'er had gain'd
The treasure of thy friendship.

MANLIUS.
I confess,
Thy grandeur cast a veil before my eyes,
Which thy reverse of fortune has remov'd.
Oft have I seen thee on the day of triumph,
A conqueror of nations enter Rome,
Now, thou hast conquer'd fortune, and thyself.
Thy laurels oft have mov'd my soul to envy,
Thy chains awaken my respect, and reverence;
Then Regulus appear'd a hero to me,
He rises now a God.

REGULUS.
Manlius enough.
Cease thy applause, for praises such as thine,
Might tempt the most severe and cautious virtue.
Bless'd be the Gods, who gild my latter days,
With the bright glory of the Consul's friendship!

MANLIUS
Forbid it Jove! said'st thou thy latter days?
May gracious Heav'n to a far distant hour
Protract thy valued life. Be it my care
To crown the hopes of thy admiring country,
By giving back her long-lost hero to her.
I will exert my power to bring about
Th'exchange of captives Africa proposes.

REGULUS.
Manlius, and is it thus, is this the way
Thou dost begin to give me proofs of friendship?
Ah! if thy love be so destructive to me,
Tell me, alas! what wou'd thy hatred be?
Shall I then lose the merit of my sufferings,
Be thus defrauded of the benefit
I vainly hop'd from all my years of bondage?
I did not come to shew my chains to Rome,
To move my country to a weak compassion;
I came to save her honor, to preserve her
From tarnishing her glory, by accepting
Proposals so injurious to her fame.
O Manlius! either give me proofs more worthy
A Roman's friendship, or renew thy hate.

MANLIUS.
Dost thou not know, that the exchange refus'd,
Inevitable death must be thy fate?

REGULUS.
And has the name of death such terror in it
To strike with dread the mighty soul of Manlius?
'Tis not to-day I learn that I am mortal.
The foe can only take from Regulus
What wearied nature would have shortly yielded;
It will be now a voluntary gift,
Twould then become a necessary tribute.
Yes, Manlius, tell the world that as I liv'd
For Rome alone, when I cou'd live no longer,
'Twas my last care how, dying to assist,
To save that country I had liv'd to serve.

MANLIUS.
O worth unparallel'd! thrice happy Rome!
Unequal'd in the heroes thou producest!
Hast thou then sworn, thou awfully-good man!
Never to bless the Consul with thy friendship?

REGULUS.
If thou wilt love me, love me like a Roman.
These are the terms on which I take thy friendship.
We both must make a sacrifice to Rome,
I of my life, and thou of Regulus:
One must resign his Being, one his friend.
It is but just, that what procures our country
Such real blessings, such substantial good,
Shou'd cost thee something—I shall lose but little.
Go then, my friend! but promise, ere thou goest
With all the Consular Authority,
Thou wilt support my counsel in the Senate.
If thou art willing to accept these terms
With transport I embrace thy proffer'd friendship.

MANLIUS,
after a pause.
Yes, I do promise.

REGULUS.
Bounteous Gods, I thank you!
Ye never gave, in all your round of blessing,
A gift so greatly welcome to my soul,
As Manlius' friendship on the terms of honor!

MANLIUS.
Immortal powers! why am not I a slave?

REGULUS.
My friend! there's not a moment to be lost;
Ere this perhaps the senate is assembled.
To thee, and to thy virtues I commit
The dignity of Rome—my peace, and honor.

MANLIUS.
Illustrious man, farewell!

REGULUS.
Farewell, my friend!

MANLIUS.
O what a flame thou hast kindled in my soul!
It raises me to something more than man,
Glows in each vein, and trembles on each nerve.
My blood is fired with virtue, and with Rome,
And every pulse beats an alarm to glory.
Who wou'd not spurn the sceptre of a King
As an unworthy bauble, when compar'd
With chains like thine? Thou man of every virtue
Farewell! may all the Gods protect, and bless thee!
Exit Manlius.

Enter Licinius.
REGULUS.
Now I begin to live: Propitious Heaven
Inclines to favour me.—Licinius here?

LICINIUS.
With joy, my honor'd friend, I seek thy presence.

REGULUS
And why with joy?

LICINIUS.
Because my heart once more
Beats high with flattering hope. In thy great cause
I have been laboring.

REGULUS.
Say'st thou in my cause?

LICINIUS.
In thine, and Rome's. Does it excite thy wonder?
Could'st thou then think so poorly of Licinius,
That base ingratitude cou'd find a place
Within his bosom?—that he cou'd forget
Thy thousand acts of friendship to his youth,
Forget it too at that important moment
When most he might assist thee?—Regulus,
Thou wast my leader, general, father,—all.
Did'st thou not teach me early how to tread
The noble path of virtue and of glory,
Point out the way and shew me how to love it?
—Ev'n from my infant years—

REGULUS.
But say, Licinius,
What hast thou done to serve me?

LICINIUS.
I have defended
Thy liberty and life!

REGULUS.
Ah! speak—explain.—

LICINIUS.
Just as the fathers were about to meet,
I hasten'd to the temple—at the entrance
Their passage I retarded, by the force
Of strong intreaty; then address'd myself
To each successively, from each obtain'd
A declaration that their utmost power,
Should be exerted for thy life, and freedom.

REGULUS.
Great Gods! what do I hear? Licinius too?

LICINIUS.
Not he alone, no, 'twere indeed unjust,
To rob the fair Attilia of her claim
To filial merit.—What I cou'd, I did.
But she—thy charming daughter—Heav'n and earth
What did she not to save her father?

REGULUS.
Who?

LICINIUS.
Attilia. Thy belov'd—thy age's darling!
Was ever father bless'd with such a child?
Gods! how her looks took captive all who saw her!
How did her soothing eloquence subdue
The stoutest hearts of Rome! How did she rouse
Contending passions in the breasts of all!
How sweetly temper dignity with grief!
With what a soft, inimitable grace,
She prais'd, reproach'd, intreated, flatter'd, sooth'd!

REGULUS.
What said the senators?

LICINIUS.
What could they say?
Who could resist the lovely conqueror?
See where she comes. Hope dances in her eyes,
And lights up all her beauties into smiles.—

Enter Attilia.
ATTILIA.
Once more my dearest father—

REGULUS.
Ah, presume not
To call me by that name. 'Till now, Attilia,
I did not number thee among my foes.

ATTILIA.
What do I hear? thy foe? my father's foe?

REGULUS.
His worst of woes—the murd'rer of his glory.

ATTILIA.
Ah! is it then a proof of enmity
To wish thee all the good the Gods can give thee,
To yield my life, if needful for thy service?

REGULUS.
Thou rash, imprudent girl! thou little know'st
The dignity and weight of public cares.
Who made a weak and inexperienc'd woman
The Arbiter of Regulus's fate?

LICINIUS.
For pity's sake my Lord!

REGULUS.
Peace, peace, young man.
Her silence better than thy language pleads.
That bears at least the semblance of repentance.
Immortal powers!—a daughter, and a Roman!

ATTILIA.
Because I am a daughter, I presum'd.—

LICINIUS.
Because I am a Roman, I aspir'd
T'oppose th'inhuman rigor of thy fate,

REGULUS.
Peace, peace, Licinius. He can ne'er be call'd
A Roman who can live with infamy;
Neither can she be Regulus's daughter
Whose coward mind wants fortitude and honor.
Unhappy children! now you make me feel
The burthen of my chains: your feeble souls
Have made me know I am indeed a slave.
Exit Regulus.

ATTILIA.
Tell me, Licinius, and oh! tell me truly,
If thou believ'st in all the round of time,
There ever breath'd a maid so truly wretched?
To weep, to mourn, a father's cruel fate—
To love him with soul-rending tenderness—
To know no peace by day, or rest by night—
To bear a bleeding heart in this poor bosom,
Which aches and trembles but to think he suffers.—
This is my crime—in any other child,
'Twould be a merit.

LICINIUS.
O my best Attilia,
Do not repent thee of the pious deed.
It was a virtuous error. That in us
Is a just duty, which the godlike soul
Of Regulus, would think a shameful weakness.
If the contempt of life in him be virtue,
It were in us a crime to let him perish.
Perhaps at last he may consent to live:
He then will thank us for our cares to save him
Let not his anger fright thee. Tho' our love
Offend him now, yet, when his mighty soul
Is reconcil'd to life, he will not chide us.
The sick man loaths, and with reluctance takes,
The remedy by which his health's restor'd.

ATTILIA.
Licinius! his reproaches wound my soul.
I cannot live and bear his indignation.

LICINIUS.
Wou'd my Attilia rather lose her father
Than, by offending him, preserve his life?

ATTILIA.
Ah! no. If he but live I am contented.

LICINIUS.
Yes, he shall live, and we again be bless'd.
Then dry thy tears, and let those lovely orbs
Beam with their wonted lustre on Licinius,
Who lives but in the sun-shine of thy smiles.
Exit Licinius.

ATTILIA,
alone.
O fortune, fortune, thou capricious Goddess,
Thy frowns and favors have alike no bounds:
Unjust, or prodigal in each extreme.
When thou wou'd'st humble human vanity,
By singling out a wretch to bear thy frowns,
Thou crushest him with anguish to excess:
If thou wou'd'st bless, thou mak'st the happiness
Too poignant for his giddy sense to bear.
O, ye immortal Gods who rule this globe,
Preserve my father! bless him, bless him, Heav'n!
If your avenging thunderbolts must fall,
Strike here—this bosom will invite the blow,
And thank you for it. But, in mercy spare,
O spare his sacred venerable head:
Respect in him an image of yourselves;
And leave a world, who wants it, an example
Of courage, wisdom, constancy and truth.
Yet if, eternal Powers who rule this ball!
You have decreed that Regulus must fall;
Teach me to yield to your divine command,
And meekly bow to your correcting hand;
Contented to resign, or pleas'd receive,
What wisdom may with-hold, or mercy give.