diff --git "a/data/test/36256.txt" "b/data/test/36256.txt" --- "a/data/test/36256.txt" +++ "b/data/test/36256.txt" @@ -1,2822 +1,2822 @@ - - - - -Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net - - - - - - - - - - THE - INFLEXIBLE CAPTIVE: - - A TRAGEDY. - IN FIVE ACTS. - - AS IT WAS ACTED AT THE - THEATRE ROYAL, AT BATH. - - - The man resolv'd, and steady to his trust, - Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just. - - - * * * * * - - - Drawn from: - - THE - WORKS - OF - - HANNAH MORE. - - VOL. II. - - LONDON - PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, STRAND - 1830. - - - * * * * * - - - TO - THE HONOURABLE - MRS. BOSCAWEN. - - - MY DEAR MADAM, - -It seems somewhat extraordinary that although with persons of great -merit and delicacy no virtue stands in higher estimation than truth, -yet, in such an address as the present, there would be some danger -of offending them by a strict adherence to it; I mean by uttering -truths so generally acknowledged, that every one, except the person -addressed, would acquit the writer of flattery. And it will be a -singular circumstance to see a Dedication without praise, to a lady -possessed of every quality and accomplishment which can justly entitle -her to it. - - I am, - - MY DEAR MADAM, - With great respect, - your most obedient, - and very obliged humble servant, - - THE AUTHOR. - - - - -THE ARGUMENT. - - -Among the great names which have done honour to antiquity in general, -and to the Roman Republic in particular, that of Marcus Attilius Regulus -has, by the general consent of all ages, been considered as one of the -most splendid, since he not only sacrificed his labours, his liberty, -and his life for the good of his country, but by a greatness of soul, -almost peculiar to himself, contrived to make his very misfortunes -contribute to that glorious end. - -After the Romans had met with various successes in the first Punic -war, under the command of Regulus, victory at length declared for the -opposite party, the Roman army was totally overthrown, and Regulus -himself taken prisoner, by Xantippus, a Lacedaemonian General in the -service of the Carthaginians: the victorious enemy exulting in so -important a conquest, kept him many years in close imprisonment, and -loaded him with the most cruel indignities. They thought it was now -in their power to make their own terms with Rome, and determined to -send Regulus thither with their ambassador, to negotiate a peace, or -at least an exchange of captives, thinking he would gladly persuade -his countrymen to discontinue a war, which necessarily prolonged his -captivity. They previously exacted from him an oath to return should his -embassy prove unsuccessful; at the same time giving him to understand, -that he must expect to suffer a cruel death if he failed in it; this -they artfully intimated as the strongest motive for him to leave no -means unattempted to accomplish their purpose. - -At the unexpected arrival of this venerable hero, the Romans expressed -the wildest transports of joy, and would have submitted to almost -any conditions to procure his enlargement; but Regulus, so far from -availing himself of his influence with the Senate to obtain any personal -advantages, employed it to induce them to reject proposals so evidently -tending to dishonour their country, declaring his fixed resolution to -return to bondage and death, rather than violate his oath. - -He at last extorted from them their consent; and departed amidst the -tears of his family, the importunites of his friends, the applauses of -the Senate, and the tumultuous opposition of the people; and, as a great -poet of his own nation beautifully observes, "he embarked for Carthage -as calm and unconcerned as if, on finishing the tedious law-suits of his -clients, he was retiring to Venafrian fields, or the sweet country of -Tarentum." - - * * * * * - -==> This piece is, in many parts, a pretty close imitation of the -_Attilio Regolo_ of Metastasio, but enlarged and extended into a tragedy -of five acts. Historical truth has in general been followed, except in -some less essential instances, particularly that of placing the return -of Regulus to Rome posterior to the death of his wife. The writer -herself never considered the plot as sufficiently bustling and dramatic -for representation. - - - - - PROLOGUE. - - WRITTEN BY THE REV. DR. LANGHORNE. - - - Deep in the bosom of departed days, - Where the first gems of human glory blaze; - Where, crown'd with flowers, in wreaths immortal drest, - The sacred shades of ancient virtue rest; - With joy they search, who joy can feel, to find - Some honest reason still to love mankind. - There the fair foundress of the scene to-night - Explores the paths that dignify delight; - The regions of the mighty dead pervades; - The Sibyl she that leads us to the shades. - O may each blast of ruder breath forbear - To waft her light leaves on the ruthless air, - Since she, as heedless, strives not to maintain - This tender offspring of her teeming brain! - For this poor birth was no provision made, - A flower that sprung and languish'd in the shade. - On Avon's banks, forsaken and forlorn, - This careless mother left her elder born; - And though unlike what Avon hail'd of yore, - Those giant sons that Shakspeare's banners bore, - Yet may we yield this little offspring grace, - And love the last and least of such a race. - Shall the strong scenes, where senatorial Rome, - Mourn'd o'er the rigour of her patriot's doom; - Where melting Nature aw'd by Virtue's eye, - Hid the big drop, and held the bursting sigh; - Where all that majesty of soul can give, - Truth, Honour, Pity, fair Affection live; - Shall scenes like these, the glory of an age, - Gleam from the press, nor triumph on the stage? - Forbid it, Britons! and, as Romans brave, - Like Romans boast one citizen to save. - - - - - DRAMATIS PERSONAE. - - - REGULUS, _Mr. Henderson._ - PUBLIUS, his Son, _Mr. Dimond._ - MANLIUS, the Consul, _Mr. Blisset._ - LICINIUS, a Tribune, _Mr. Brown._ - HAMILCAR, the Carthaginian } _Mr. Rowbotham._ - Ambassador, } - - ATTILIA, daughter of Regulus, _Miss Mansell._ - BARCE, a Carthaginian captive, _Miss Wheeler._ - - Guards, Lictors, People, &c. - - SCENE--_Near the Gates of Rome._ - - - - - THE INFLEXIBLE CAPTIVE. - - - - - ACT I. - - - SCENE--_A Hall in the Consul's Palace._ - - _Enter_ LICINIUS, ATTILIA, _Lictors and People_. - - - _Lic._ Attilia waiting here? Is't possible? - Is this a place for Regulus's daughter? - Just gods! must that incomparable maid - Associate here with Lictors and Plebeians? - - _At._ Yes, on this threshold patiently I wait - The Consul's coming; I would make him blush - To see me here his suitor. O Licinius, - This is no time for form and cold decorum; - Five lagging years have crept their tedious round, - And Regulus, alas! is still a slave, - A wretched slave, unpitied, and forgotten; - No other tribute paid his memory, - Than the sad tears of his unhappy child; - If _she_ be silent, who will speak for Regulus? - - _Lic._ Let not her sorrows make my fair unjust. - Is there in Rome a heart so dead to virtue - That does not beat in Regulus's cause? - That wearies not the gods for his return? - That does not think all subjugated Afric - A slender, unimportant acquisition, - If, in return for this extended empire, - The freedom of thy father be the purchase? - These are the feelings of Imperial Rome; - My own, it were superfluous to declare. - For if _Licinius_ were to weigh his merit, - That he's _thy father_ were sufficient glory. - He was my leader, train'd me up to arms; - And if I boast a spark of Roman honour, - I owe it to _his_ precepts and _his_ virtues. - - _At._ And yet I have not seen Licinius stir. - - _Lic._ Ah! spare me thy reproaches--what, when late - A private citizen, could I attempt? - 'Twas not the lust of power, or pride of rank, - Which made me seek the dignity of tribune; - No, my Attilia, but I fondly hop'd - 'Twould strengthen and enforce the just request - Which as a _private_ man I vainly urg'd; - But now, the people's representative, - I shall _demand_, Attilia, to be heard. - - _At._ Ah! let us not too hastily apply - This dang'rous remedy; I would not rouse - Fresh tumults 'twixt the people and the senate: - Each views with jealousy the idol, Power, - Which, each possessing, would alike abuse. - What one demands the other still denies. - Might _I_ advise you, try a gentler method; - I know that every moment Rome expects - Th' ambassador of Carthage, nay, 'tis said - The Conscript Fathers are already met - To give him audience in Bellona's temple. - There might the Consul at my suit, Licinius, - Propose the ransom of my captive father. - - _Lic._ Ah! think, Attilia, who that Consul is, - Manlius, thy father's rival, and his foe: - His ancient rival, and his foe profess'd: - To hope in him, my fair, were fond delusion. - - _At._ Yet though his rival, Manlius is a _Roman_: - Nor will he think of private enmities, - Weigh'd in the balance with the good of Rome: - Let me at least make trial of his honour. - - _Lic._ Be it so, my fair! but elsewhere make thy suit; - Let not the Consul meet Attilia _here_, - Confounded with the refuse of the people. - - _At._ Yes, I will see him _here_, e'en _here_, Licinius. - Let _Manlius_ blush, not _me_: _here_ will I speak, - _Here_ shall he answer me. - - _Lic._ Behold he comes. - - _At._ Do thou retire. - - _Lic._ O bless me with a look, - One parting look at least. - - _At._ Know, my Licinius, - That at this moment I am all the _daughter_, - The filial feelings now possess my soul, - And other passions find no entrance there. - - _Lic._ O sweet, yet powerful influence of virtue, - That charms though cruel, though unkind subdues, - And what was love exalts to admiration! - Yes, 'tis the privilege of souls like thine - To conquer most when least they aim at conquest. - Yet, ah! vouchsafe to think upon Licinius, - Nor fear to rob thy father of his due; - For surely virtue and the gods approve - Unwearied constancy and spotless love. - [_Exit_ LICINIUS. - - _Enter_ MANLIUS. - - _At._ Ah! Manlius, stay, a moment stay, and hear me. - - _Man._ I did not think to meet thee here, Attilia; - The place so little worthy of the guest. - - _At._ It would, indeed, have ill become Attilia, - While still her father was a Roman citizen; - But for the daughter of a slave to Carthage, - It surely is most fitting. - - _Man._ Say, Attilia, - What is the purpose of thy coming hither! - - _At._ What is the purpose, patience, pitying heaven! - Tell me, how long, to Rome's eternal shame, - To fill with horror all the wond'ring world, - My father still must groan in Punic chains, - And waste the tedious hours in cruel bondage? - Days follow days, and years to years succeed, - And Rome forgets her hero, is content - That Regulus be a forgotten slave. - What is his crime? is it that he preferr'd - His country's profit to his children's good? - Is it th' unshaken firmness of his soul, - Just, uncorrupt, and, boasting, let me speak it, - Poor in the highest dignities of Rome? - O glorious poverty! illustrious crime! - - _Man._ But know, Attilia---- - - _At._ O have patience with me. - And can ungrateful _Rome_ so soon forget? - Can those who breathe the air _he_ breath'd forget - The great, the godlike virtues of my father? - There's not a part of Rome but speaks his praise. - The _streets_--through them the _hero_ pass'd triumphant: - The _Forum_--there the _Legislator_ plann'd - The wisest, purest laws:--_the Senate House_-- - There spoke the _patriot Roman_--there his voice - Secur'd the public safety: Manlius, yes; - The wisdom of his councils match'd his valour. - Enter the _Temples_--mount the _Capitol_-- - And tell me, Manlius, to what hand but _his_ - They owe their trophies, and their ornaments. - Their foreign banners, and their boasted ensigns, - Tarentine, Punic, and Sicilian spoils? - Nay, e'en those lictors who precede thy steps, - This Consul's purple which invests thy limbs, - All, all were Regulus's, were my father's. - And yet this hero, this exalted patriot, - This man of virtue, this immortal Roman, - In base requital for his services, - Is left to linger out a life in chains, - No honours paid him but a daughter's tears. - O Rome! O Regulus! O thankless citizens! - - _Man._ Just are thy tears:--thy father well deserves them; - But know thy censure is unjust, Attilia. - The fate of Regulus is felt by all: - We know and mourn the cruel woes he suffers - From barbarous Carthage. - - _At._ Manlius, you mistake; - Alas! it is not Carthage which is barbarous; - 'Tis Rome, ungrateful Rome, is the barbarian; - Carthage but punishes a foe profess'd, - But Rome betrays her hero and her father: - Carthage remembers how he slew her sons, - But Rome forgets the blood he shed for _her_: - Carthage revenges an acknowledged foe, - But Rome, with basest perfidy, rewards - The glorious hand that bound her brow with laurels. - Which now is the barbarian, Rome or Carthage? - - _Man._ What can be done? - - _At._ A woman shall inform you. - Convene the senate; let them strait propose - A ransom, or exchange for Regulus, - To Africa's ambassador. Do this, - And heaven's best blessings crown your days with peace. - - _Man._ Thou speakest like a _daughter_, I, Attilia, - Must as a _Consul_ act; I must consult - The good of Rome, and with her good, her glory. - Would it not tarnish her unspotted fame, - To sue to Carthage on the terms thou wishest? - - _At._ Ah! rather own thou'rt still my father's foe. - - _Man._ Ungen'rous maid! no fault of mine concurr'd - To his destruction. 'Twas the chance of war. - Farewell! ere this the senate is assembled---- - My presence is requir'd.----Speak to the fathers, - And try to soften _their_ austerity; - _My_ rigour they may render vain, for know, - I am Rome's _Consul_, not her _King_, Attilia. - [_Exit_ MANLIUS _with the lictors, &c._ - - _At._ (_alone._) - This flattering hope, alas! has prov'd abortive. - One Consul is our foe, the other absent. - What shall the sad Attilia next attempt? - Suppose I crave assistance from the people! - Ah! my unhappy father, on what hazards, - What strange vicissitudes, what various turns, - Thy life, thy liberty, thy all depends! - - _Enter_ BARCE (_in haste_). - - _Barce._ Ah, my Attilia! - - _At._ Whence this eager haste? - - _Barce._ Th' ambassador of Carthage is arriv'd. - - _At._ And why does _that_ excite such wondrous transport? - - _Barce._ I bring another cause of greater still. - - _At._ Name it, my Barce. - - _Barce._ _Regulus_ comes with him. - - _At._ My father! can it be? - - _Barce._ Thy father----Regulus. - - _At._ Thou art deceiv'd, or thou deceiv'st thy friend. - - _Barce._ Indeed I saw him not, but every tongue - Speaks the glad tidings. - - _Enter_ PUBLIUS. - - _At._ See where Publius comes. - - _Pub._ My sister, I'm transported! Oh, Attilia, - He's here, our father----Regulus is come! - - _At._ I thank you, gods: O my full heart! where is he? - Hasten, my brother, lead, O lead me to him. - - _Pub._ It is too soon: restrain thy fond impatience. - With Africa's ambassador he waits, - Until th' assembled senate give him audience. - - _At._ Where was he Publius when thou saw'st him first? - - _Pub._ You know, in quality of Roman quaestor, - My duty 'tis to find a fit abode - For all ambassadors of foreign states. - Hearing the Carthaginian was arriv'd, - I hasten'd to the port, when, O just gods! - No foreigner, no foe, no African - Salutes my eye, but Regulus----my father! - - _At._ Oh mighty joy! too exquisite delight! - What said the hero? tell me, tell me all, - And ease my anxious breast. - - _Pub._ Ere I arriv'd, - My father stood already on the shore, - Fixing his eyes with anxious eagerness, - As straining to descry the Capitol. - I saw, and flew with transport to embrace him, - Pronounc'd with wildest joy the name of father-- - With reverence seiz'd his venerable hand, - And would have kiss'd it; when the awful hero, - With that stern grandeur which made Carthage tremble, - Drew back--stood all collected in himself, - And said austerely, Know, thou rash young man, - That _slaves_ in _Rome_ have not the rights of _fathers_. - Then ask'd, if yet the senate was assembled, - And where? which having heard, without indulging - The fond effusions of his soul, or mine, - He suddenly retir'd. I flew with speed - To find the Consul, but as yet success - Attends not my pursuit. Direct me to him. - - _Barce._ Publius, you'll find him in Bellona's temple. - - _At._ Then Regulus returns to Rome a slave! - - _Pub._ Yes, but be comforted; I know he brings - Proposals for a peace; his will's his fate. - - _At._ Rome may, perhaps, refuse to treat of peace. - - _Pub._ Didst thou behold the universal joy - At his return, thou wouldst not doubt success. - There's not a tongue in Rome but, wild with transport, - Proclaims aloud that Regulus is come; - The streets are filled with thronging multitudes, - Pressing with eager gaze to catch a look. - The happy man who can descry him first, - Points him to his next neighbour, he to his; - Then what a thunder of applause goes round; - What music to the ear of filial love! - Attilia! not a Roman eye was seen, - But shed pure tears of exquisite delight. - Judge of my feelings by thy own, my sister. - By the large measure of thy fond affection, - Judge mine. - - _At._ Where is Licinius? find him out; - My joy is incomplete till he partakes it. - When doubts and fears have rent my anxious heart, - In all my woes he kindly bore a part: - Felt all my sorrows with a soul sincere, - Sigh'd as I sigh'd, and number'd tear for tear: - Now favouring heav'n my ardent vows has blest, - He shall divide the transports of my breast. - [_Exit_ ATTILIA. - - _Pub._ Barce, adieu! - - _Barce._ Publius, a moment hear me. - Know'st thou the name of Africa's ambassador? - - _Pub._ Hamilcar. - - _Barce._ Son of Hanno? - - _Pub._ Yes! the same. - - _Barce._ Ah me! Hamilcar!--How shall I support it! [_Aside._ - - _Pub._ Ah, charming maid! the blood forsakes thy cheek: - Is he the rival of thy Publius? speak, - And tell me all the rigour of my fate. - - _Barce._ Hear me, my Lord. Since I have been thy slave, - Thy goodness, and the friendship of Attilia, - Have soften'd all the horrors of my fate. - Till now I have not felt the weight of bondage. - Till now--ah, Publius!--think me not ungrateful, - I would not wrong thee--I will be sincere-- - I will expose the weakness of my soul. - Know then, my Lord--how shall I tell thee all? - - _Pub._ Stop, cruel maid, nor wound thy Publius more; - I dread the fatal frankness of thy words: - Spare me the pain of knowing I am scorn'd; - And if thy heart's devoted to another, - Yet do not tell it me; in tender pity - Do not, my fair, dissolve the fond illusion, - The dear delightful visions I have form'd - Of future joy, and fond exhaustless love. - [_Exit_ PUBLIUS. - - _Barce._ (_alone._) - And shall I see him then, see my Hamilcar, - Pride of my soul, and lord of all my wishes? - The only man in all our burning Afric - Who ever taught my bosom how to love! - Down, foolish heart! be calm, my busy thoughts! - If at his name I feel these strange emotions, - How shall I see, how meet my conqueror? - O let not those presume to judge of joy - Who ne'er have felt the pangs which absence gives. - Such tender transport those alone can prove, - Who long, like me, have known disastrous love; - The tears that fell, the sighs that once were paid, - Like grateful incense on his altar laid; - The lambent flame rekindle, not destroy, - And woes remember'd heighten present joy. [_Exit._ - - - - - ACT II. - - - SCENE--_The inside of the Temple of Bellona--Seats for the - Senators and Ambassadors--Lictors guarding the entrance._ - - MANLIUS, PUBLIUS, _and Senators_. - - - _Man._ Let Regulus be sent for to our presence; - And with him the ambassador of Carthage. - Is it then true the foe would treat of peace? - - _Pub._ They wish, at least, our captives were exchang'd, - And send my father to declare their wish: - If he obtain it, well: if not, then Regulus - Returns to meet the vengeance of the foe, - And pay for your refusal with his blood: - He ratified this treaty with his oath, - And ere he quitted Carthage, heard, unmov'd, - The dreadful preparations for his death, - Should he return. O, Romans! O, my countrymen! - Can you resign your hero to your foe? - Say, can you give up Regulus to Carthage? - - _Man._ Peace, Publius, peace, for see thy father comes. - - _Enter_ HAMILCAR _and_ REGULUS. - - _Ham._ Why dost thou stop? dost thou forget this temple? - I thought these walls had been well known to Regulus? - - _Reg._ Hamilcar! I was thinking what I was - When last I saw them, and what now I am. - - _Ham._ (_to the Consul._) - Carthage by me to Rome this greeting sends, - That wearied out at length with bloody war, - If Rome inclines to peace she offers it. - - _Man._ We will at leisure answer thee. Be seated. - Come, Regulus, resume thine ancient place. - - _Reg._ (_pointing to the Senators._) Who then are these? - - _Man._ The Senators of Rome. - - _Reg._ And who art thou? - - _Man._ What meanst thou? I'm her Consul; - Hast thou so soon forgotten Manlius? - - _Reg._ And shall a _slave_ then have a place in Rome - Among her Consuls and her Senators? - - _Man._ Yes!--For her _heroes_ Rome forgets her _laws_; - Softens their harsh austerity for thee, - To whom she owes her conquests and her triumphs. - - _Reg._ Rome may forget, but Regulus remembers. - - _Man._ Was ever man so obstinately good? [_Aside._ - - _Pub._ (_rising._) Fathers! your pardon. I can sit no longer. - [_To the Senators._ - - _Reg._ Publius, what dost thou mean? - - _Pub._ To do my duty: - Where Regulus must stand, shall Publius sit? - - _Reg._ Alas! O Rome, how are thy manners chang'd! - When last I left thee, ere I sail'd for Afric, - It was a crime to think of private duties - When public cares requir'd attention.----Sit, - (_To_ PUBLIUS.) And learn to occupy thy place with honour. - - _Pub._ Forgive me, sir, if I refuse obedience: - My heart o'erflows with duty to my father. - - _Reg._ Know, Publius, that duty's at an end; - Thy father died when he became a slave. - - _Man._ Now urge thy suit, Hamilcar, we attend. - - _Ham._ Afric hath chosen Regulus her messenger. - In him, both Carthage and Hamilcar speak. - - _Man._ (_to_ REGULUS.) We are prepar'd to hear thee. - - _Ham._ (_to_ REGULUS.) Ere thou speak'st, - Maturely weigh what thou hast sworn to do, - Should Rome refuse to treat with us of peace. - - _Reg._ What I have sworn I will fulfil, Hamilcar. - Be satisfied. - - _Pub._ Ye guardian gods of Rome, - With your own eloquence inspire him now! - - _Reg._ Carthage by me this embassy has sent: - If Rome will leave her undisturb'd possession - Of all she now enjoys, she offers _peace_; - But if you rather wish protracted war, - Her next proposal is, _exchange of captives_;---- - If you demand advice of _Regulus_, - Reject them both! - - _Ham._ What dost thou mean? - - _Pub._ My father! - - _Man._ Exalted fortitude! I'm lost in wonder. [_Aside._ - - _Reg._ Romans! I will not idly spend my breath, - To show the dire effects of such a peace; - The foes who beg it, show their dread of war. - - _Man._ But the exchange of prisoners thou proposest? - - _Reg._ That artful scheme conceals some Punic fraud. - - _Ham._ Roman, beware! hast thou so soon forgotten; - - _Reg._ I will fulfil the treaty I have sworn to. - - _Pub._ All will be ruin'd. - - _Reg._ Conscript Fathers! hear me.---- - Though this exchange teems with a thousand ills, - Yet 'tis th' example I would deprecate. - This treaty fix'd, Rome's honour is no more. - Should her degenerate sons be promis'd life, - Dishonest life, and worthless liberty, - Her glory, valour, military pride, - Her fame, her fortitude, her all were lost. - What honest captive of them all would wish - With shame to enter her imperial gates, - The flagrant scourge of slavery on his back? - None, none, my friends, would wish a fate so vile, - But those base cowards who resign'd their arms - Unstain'd with hostile blood, and poorly sued, - Through ignominious fear of death, for bondage; - The scorn, the laughter, of th' insulting foe. - O shame! shame! shame! eternal infamy! - - _Man._ However hurtful this _exchange_ may be, - The liberty, the life of Regulus, - More than compensates for it. - - _Reg._ Thou art mistaken.---- - This Regulus is a mere mortal man, - Yielding apace to all th' infirmities - Of weak, decaying nature.----I am old, - Nor can my future, feeble services - Assist my country much; but mark me well: - The young fierce heroes you'd restore to Carthage, - In lieu of this old man, are her chief bulwarks. - Fathers! in vig'rous youth this well-strung arm - Fought for my country, fought and conquer'd for her: - That was the time to prize its service high. - Now, weak and nerveless, let the foe possess it, - For it can harm them in the field no more. - Let Carthage have the poor degrading triumph - To close these failing eyes;--but, O my countrymen! - Check their vain hopes, and show aspiring Afric - That heroes are the common growth of Rome. - - _Man._ Unequall'd fortitude. - - _Pub._ O fatal virtue! - - _Ham._ What do I hear? this constancy confounds me. - - _Man._ (_to the Senators._) - Let honour be the spring of all our actions, - Not interest, Fathers. Let no selfish views - Preach safety at the price of truth and justice. - - _Reg._ If Rome would thank me, I will teach her how. - --Know, Fathers, that these savage Africans - Thought me so base, so very low of soul, - That the poor wretched privilege of breathing, - Would force me to betray my country to them. - Have these barbarians any tortures left - To match the cruelty of such a thought? - Revenge me, Fathers! and I'm still a Roman. - Arm, arm yourselves, prepare your citizens, - Snatch your imprison'd eagles from their fanes, - Fly to the shores of Carthage, force her gates, - Dye every Roman sword in Punic blood-- - And do such deeds--that when I shall return, - (As I have _sworn_, and am resolv'd to do,) - I may behold with joy, reflected back, - The terrors of your rage in the dire visages - Of my astonish'd executioners. - - _Ham._ Surprise has chill'd my blood! I'm lost in wonder! - - _Pub._ Does no one answer? must my father perish? - - _Man._ Romans, we must defer th' important question; - Maturest councils must determine on it. - Rest we awhile:----Nature requires some pause - From high-rais'd admiration. Thou, Hamilcar, - Shalt shortly know our final resolution. - Meantime, we go to supplicate the gods. - - _Reg._ Have you a doubt remaining? Manlius, speak. - - _Man._ Yes, Regulus, I think the danger less - To lose th' advantage thy advice suggests, - Than would accrue to Rome in losing thee, - Whose wisdom might direct, whose valour guard her. - Athirst for glory, thou wouldst rush on death, - And for thy country's sake wouldst greatly perish. - Too vast a sacrifice thy zeal requires, - For Rome must bleed when Regulus expires. - [_Exeunt Consul and Senators._ - - _Manent_ REGULUS, PUBLIUS, HAMILCAR; _to them - enter_ ATTILIA _and_ LICINIUS. - - _Ham._ Does Regulus fulfil his promise thus? - - _Reg._ I've promis'd to return, and I will do it. - - _At._ My father! think a moment. - - _Lic._ Ah! my friend! - - _Lic. and At._ O by this hand we beg---- - - _Reg._ Away! no more. - Thanks to Rome's guardian gods I'm yet a slave! - And will be still a slave to make Rome free! - - _At._ Was the exchange refus'd? Oh ease my fears. - - _Reg._ Publius! conduct Hamilcar and myself - To that abode thou hast for each provided. - - _At._ A foreign residence? a strange abode? - And will my father spurn his household gods? - - _Pub._ My sire a stranger?----Will he taste no more - The smiling blessings of his cheerful home? - - _Reg._ Dost thou not know the laws of Rome forbid - A foe's ambassador within her gates? - - _Pub._ This rigid law does not extend to thee. - - _Reg._ Yes; did it not alike extend to all, - 'Twere tyranny.--The law rights every man, - But favours none. - - _At._ Then, O my father, - Allow thy daughter to partake thy fate! - - _Reg._ Attilia! no. The present exigence - Demands far other thoughts, than the soft cares, - The fond effusions, the delightful weakness, - The dear affections 'twixt the child and parent. - - _At._ How is my father chang'd, from what I've known him! - - _Reg._ The fate of Regulus is chang'd, not Regulus. - I am the same; in laurels or in chains - 'Tis the same principle; the same fix'd soul, - Unmov'd itself, though circumstances change. - The native vigour of the free-born mind - Still struggles with, still conquers adverse fortune; - Soars above chains, invincible though vanquish'd. - [_Exeunt_ REGULUS _and_ PUBLIUS. - - ATTILIA, HAMILCAR _going; enter_ BARCE. - - _Barce._ Ah! my Hamilcar. - - _Ham._ Ah! my long-lost Barce: - Again I lose thee; Regulus rejects - Th' exchange of prisoners Africa proposes. - My heart's too full.--Oh, I have much to say! - - _Barce._ Yet you unkindly leave me, and say nothing. - - _Ham._ Ah! didst thou love as thy Hamilcar loves, - Words were superfluous; in my eyes, my Barce, - Thou'dst read the tender eloquence of love, - Th' uncounterfeited language of my heart. - A single look betrays the soul's soft feelings, - And shows imperfect speech of little worth. - [_Exit_ HAMILCAR. - - _At._ My father then conspires his own destruction, - Is it not so? - - _Barce._ Indeed I fear it much; - But as the senate has not yet resolv'd, - There is some room for hope: lose not a moment; - And, ere the Conscript Fathers are assembled, - Try all the powers of winning eloquence, - Each gentle art of feminine persuasion, - The love of kindred, and the faith of friends, - To bend the rigid Romans to thy purpose. - - _At._ Yes, Barce, I will go; I will exert - My little pow'r, though hopeless of success. - Undone Attilia! fall'n from hope's gay heights - Down the dread precipice of deep despair. - So some tir'd mariner the coast espies, - And his lov'd home explores with straining eyes; - Prepares with joy to quit the treacherous deep, - Hush'd every wave, and every wind asleep; - But ere he lands upon the well-known shore, - Wild storms arise, and furious billows roar, - Tear the fond wretch from all his hopes away, - And drive his shatter'd bark again to sea. - - - - - ACT III. - - - SCENE--_A Portico of a Palace without the gates of - Rome--The abode of the Carthaginian Ambassador_. - - _Enter_ REGULUS _and_ PUBLIUS _meeting_. - - - _Reg._ 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? - Dost thou know this and fondly linger here? - - _Pub._ They're not yet met, my father. - - _Reg._ Haste--away-- - Support my counsel in th' assembled Senate, - Confirm their wav'ring virtue by thy courage, - And Regulus shall glory in his boy. - - _Pub._ Ah! spare thy son the most ungrateful task. - What!--supplicate the ruin of my father? - - _Reg._ The good of Rome can never hurt her sons. - - _Pub._ In pity to thy children, spare thyself. - - _Reg._ Dost thou then think that mine's a frantic bravery? - That Regulus would 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 die, - Even to _think_ of freedom at th' expense - Of my dear bleeding country? To me, therefore, - Freedom and life would be the heaviest evils; - But to preserve that country, to restore her, - To heal her wounds though at the price of _life_, - Or what is dearer far, the price of liberty, - Is _virtue_--therefore slavery and death - Are Regulus's good--his wish--his choice. - - _Pub._ Yet sure our country---- - - _Reg._ Is a _whole_, my Publius, - Of which we all are _parts_; nor should a citizen - Regard his interests as distinct from hers; - No hopes or fears should touch his patriot soul, - But what affect her honour or her shame. - E'en 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 honours, dignity, and rank, - His wrongs revenges, and his merit pays; - And like a tender and indulgent mother, - Loads him with comforts, and would make his state - As blest 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 burden lose - Th' advantages it yields;--let him retire - From the dear blessings of a social life, - And from the sacred laws which guard those blessings; - Renounce the civilis'd abodes of man, - With kindred brutes one common 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: - While we, obedient to the laws that guard us, - Guard _them_, and live or die as they decree. - - _Pub._ 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. I'm a son. - - _Reg._ A poor excuse, unworthy of a Roman! - Brutus, Virginius, Manlius--they were fathers. - - _Pub._ 'Tis true, they were; but this heroic greatness, - This glorious elevation of the soul, - Has been confin'd to fathers.--Rome, till now, - Boasts not a son of such unnatural virtue, - Who, spurning all the powerful ties of blood, - Has labour'd to procure his father's death. - - _Reg._ Then be the first to give the great example-- - Go, hasten; be thyself that son, my Publius. - - _Pub._ My father! ah!-- - - _Reg._ Publius, no more; begone-- - Attend the Senate--let me know my fate; - 'Twill be more glorious if announc'd by thee. - - _Pub._ Too much, too much thy rigid virtue claims - From thy unhappy son. Oh, nature, nature! - - _Reg._ Publius! am I a stranger, or thy father? - In either case an obvious duty waits thee: - 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. - - _Pub._ Ah! couldst thou look into my inmost soul, - And see how warm it burns with love and duty, - Thou would'st abate the rigour of thy words. - - _Reg._ Could I explore the secrets of thy breast, - The virtue I would wish should flourish there - Were fortitude, not weak, complaining love. - - _Pub._ If thou requir'st my _blood_, I'll shed it all; - But when thou dost enjoin the harsher task - That I should labour to procure thy death, - Forgive thy son--he has not so much virtue. - [_Exit_ PUBLIUS. - - _Reg._ Th' important hour draws on, and now my soul - Loses her wonted calmness, lest the Senate - Should doubt what answer to return to Carthage. - O ye protecting deities of Rome! - Ye guardian gods! look down propitious on her, - Inspire her Senate with your sacred wisdom, - And call up all that's Roman in their souls! - - _Enter_ MANLIUS (_speaking_). - - See that the lictors wait, and guard the entrance-- - Take care that none intrude. - - _Reg._ Ah! Manlius here? - What can this mean? - - _Man._ Where, where is Regulus? - The great, the godlike, the invincible? - Oh, let me strain the hero to my breast.-- - - _Reg._ (_avoiding him._) - Manlius, stand off, remember I'm a slave! - And thou Rome's Consul. - - _Man._ 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 honours Rome can give without it. - - _Reg._ 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. - - _Man._ 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, my reverence; - Then Regulus appear'd a hero to me, - He rises now a god. - - _Reg._ Manlius, enough. - Cease thy applause; 'tis dang'rous; praise like 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! - - _Man._ 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. - - _Reg._ 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, - What would thy hatred be? Mistaken Consul! - Shall I then lose the profit of my wrongs? - Be thus defrauded of the benefit - I vainly hop'd from all my years of bondage? - I did not come to show my chains to Rome, - To move my country to a weak compassion; - I came to save her _honour_, to preserve her - From tarnishing her glory; came to snatch her - From offers so destructive to her fame. - O Manlius! either give me proofs more worthy - A Roman's friendship, or renew thy hate. - - _Man._ Dost thou not know, that this exchange refus'd, - Inevitable death must be thy fate? - - _Reg._ 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 tribute seiz'd, not offer'd. - Yes, Manlius, tell the world that as I liv'd - For Rome alone, when I could live no longer, - 'Twas my last care how, dying, to assist, - To save that country I had liv'd to serve. - - _Man._ O unexampled worth! O godlike Regulus! - Thrice happy Rome! unparalleled in heroes! - Hast thou then sworn, thou awfully good man, - Never to bless the Consul with thy friendship? - - _Reg._ 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, - Should 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. - - _Man._ (_after a pause._) Yes, I do promise. - - _Reg._ 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 honour! - - _Man._ Immortal Powers! why am not I a slave? - By heav'n! I almost envy thee thy bonds. - - _Reg._ 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 honour. - - _Man._ Illustrious man, farewell! - - _Reg._ Farewell, my friend! - - _Man._ The sacred flame thou hast kindled in my soul - Glows in each vein, trembles in every nerve, - And raises me to something more than man. - My blood is fir'd with virtue, and with Rome, - And every pulse beats an alarm to glory. - Who would not spurn a sceptre when compar'd - With chains like thine? Thou man of every virtus, - O, farewell! may all the gods protect and bless thee. - [_Exit_ MANLIUS. - - _Enter_ LICINIUS. - - _Reg._ Now I begin to live; propitious heaven - Inclines to favour me.----Licinius here? - - _Lic._ With joy, my honour'd friend, I seek thy presence. - - _Reg._ And why with joy? - - _Lic._ Because my heart once more - Beats high with flattering hope. In thy great cause - I have been labouring. - - _Reg._ Say'st thou in _my_ cause? - - _Lic._ In thine and Rome's. Does it excite thy wonder? - Couldst thou, then, think so poorly of Licinius, - That base ingratitude could find a place - Within his bosom?--Can I, then, forget - Thy thousand acts of friendship to my youth? - Forget them, too, at that important moment - When most I might assist thee?--Regulus, - Thou wast my leader, general, father--all. - Didst thou not teach me early how to tread - The path of glory; point the way thyself, - And bid me follow thee? - - _Reg._ But say, Licinius, - What hast thou done to serve me? - - _Lic._ I have defended - Thy liberty and life! - - _Reg._ Ah! speak--explain.-- - - _Lic._ 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 entreaty: then address'd myself - So well to each, that I from each obtain'd - A declaration, that his utmost power - Should be exerted for thy life and freedom. - - _Reg._ Great gods! what do I hear? Licinius, too? - - _Lic._ Not he alone; no, 'twere indeed unjust - To rob the fair Attilia of her claim - To filial merit.--What I could, I did. - But _she_--thy charming daughter--heav'n and earth, - What did she not to save her father? - - _Reg._ Who? - - _Lic._ 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, entreated, flatter'd, sooth'd. - - _Reg._ What said the Senators? - - _Lic._ 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. - - _At._ Once more, my dearest father---- - - _Reg._ Ah, presume not - To call me by that name. For know, Attilia, - I number _thee_ among the foes of Regulus. - - _At._ What do I hear? thy foe? my father's foe? - - _Reg._ His worst of foes--the murd'rer of his glory. - - _At._ 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? - - _Reg._ 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? - - _Lic._ For pity's sake, my Lord! - - _Reg._ 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! - - _At._ Because I _am_ a daughter, I presum'd---- - - _Lic._ Because I _am_ a Roman, I aspired - T' oppose th' inhuman rigour of thy fate. - - _Reg._ No more, Licinius. How can he be call'd - A Roman who would live in infamy? - Or how can she be Regulus's daughter - Whose coward mind wants fortitude and honour? - Unhappy children! now you make me _feel_ - The burden of my chains: your feeble souls - Have made me know I am indeed a slave. - [_Exit_ REGULUS. - - _At._ 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. - - _Lic._ Oh! 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 god-like 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. Though our love - Offend him now, yet, when his mighty soul - Is reconcil'd to life, he will not chide us. - The sick man loathes, and with reluctance takes - The remedy by which his health's restor'd. - - _At._ Licinius! his reproaches wound my soul. - I cannot live and bear his indignation. - - _Lic._ Would my Attilia rather lose her father - Than, by offending him, preserve his life? - - _At._ Ah! no. If he but live, I am contented. - - _Lic._ 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 sunshine of thy smiles. - [_Exit_ LICINIUS. - - _At._ (_alone_.) O Fortune, Fortune, thou capricious goddess! - Thy frowns and favours have alike no bounds: - Unjust, or prodigal in each extreme. - When thou wouldst humble human vanity, - By singling out a wretch to bear thy wrath, - Thou crushest him with anguish to excess: - If thou wouldst bless, thou mak'st the happiness - Too poignant for his giddy sense to bear.---- - Immortal gods, who rule the fates of men, - 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, - Oh! 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 withhold, or mercy give. - [_Exit_ ATTILIA. - - - - - ACT IV. - - SCENE--_A Gallery in the Ambassador's Palace._ - - - _Reg._ (_alone._) - Be calm, my soul! what strange emotions shake thee? - Emotions thou hast never felt till now. - Thou hast defied the dangers of the deep, - Th' impetuous hurricane, the thunder's roar, - And all the terrors of the various war; - Yet, now thou tremblest, now thou stand'st dismay'd, - With fearful expectation of thy fate.---- - Yes--thou hast amplest reason for thy fears; - For till this hour, so pregnant with events, - Thy fame and glory never were at stake. - Soft--let me think--what is this thing call'd _glory_? - 'Tis the soul's tyrant, that should be dethron'd, - And learn subjection like her other passions! - Ah! no! 'tis false: this is the coward's plea; - The lazy language of refining vice. - That man was born in vain, whose wish to serve - Is circumscrib'd within the wretched bounds - Of _self_--a narrow, miserable sphere! - Glory exalts, enlarges, dignifies, - Absorbs the selfish in the social claims, - And renders man a blessing to mankind.-- - It is this principle, this spark of deity, - Rescues debas'd humanity from guilt, - And elevates it by her strong excitements:-- - It takes off sensibility from pain, - From peril fear, plucks out the sting from death, - Changes ferocious into gentle manners, - And teaches men to imitate the gods. - It shows----but see, alas! where Publius comes. - Ah! he advances with a down-cast eye, - And step irresolute---- - - _Enter_ PUBLIUS. - - _Reg._ My Publius, welcome! - What tidings dost thou bring? what says the Senate? - Is yet my fate determin'd? quickly tell me.-- - - _Pub._ I cannot speak, and yet, alas! I must. - - _Reg._ Tell me the whole.-- - - _Pub._ Would I were rather dumb! - - _Reg._ Publius, no more delay:--I charge thee speak. - - _Pub._ The Senate has decreed thou shalt depart. - - _Reg._ Genius of Rome! thou hast at last prevail'd-- - I thank the gods, I have not liv'd in vain! - Where is Hamilcar?--find him--let us go, - For Regulus has nought to do in Rome; - I have accomplished her important work, - And must depart. - - _Pub._ Ah, my unhappy father! - - _Reg._ Unhappy, Publius! didst thou say unhappy? - Does he, does that bless'd man deserve this name, - Who to his latest breath can serve his country? - - _Pub._ Like thee, my father, I adore my country, - Yet weep with anguish o'er thy cruel chains. - - _Reg._ Dost thou not know that _life_'s a slavery? - The body is the chain that binds the soul; - A yoke that every mortal must endure. - Wouldst thou lament--lament the general fate, - The chain that nature gives, entail'd on all, - Not these _I_ wear? - - _Pub._ Forgive, forgive my sorrows: - I know, alas! too well, those fell barbarians - Intend thee instant death. - - _Reg._ So shall my life - And servitude together have an end.---- - Publius, farewell; nay, do not follow me.-- - - _Pub._ Alas! my father, if thou ever lov'dst me, - Refuse me not the mournful consolation - To pay the last sad offices of duty - I e'er can show thee.---- - - _Reg._ No!--thou canst fulfil - Thy duty to thy father in a way - More grateful to him: I must strait embark. - Be it meanwhile thy pious care to keep - My lov'd Attilia from a sight, I fear, - Would rend her gentle heart.--Her tears, my son, - Would dim the glories of thy father's triumph. - Her sinking spirits are subdu'd by grief. - And should her sorrows pass the bounds of reason, - Publius, have pity on her tender age, - Compassionate the weakness of her sex; - We must not hope to find in _her_ soft soul - The strong exertion of a manly courage.---- - Support her fainting spirit, and instruct her, - By thy example, how a Roman ought - To bear misfortune. Oh, indulge her weakness! - And be to her the father she will lose. - I leave my daughter to thee--I do more---- - I leave to thee the conduct of--thyself. - --Ah, Publius! I perceive thy courage fails-- - I see the quivering lip, the starting tear:-- - That lip, that tear calls down my mounting soul. - Resume thyself--Oh, do not blast my hope! - Yes--I'm compos'd--thou wilt not mock my age-- - Thou _art_--thou art a _Roman_--and my son. - [_Exit_. - - _Pub._ And is he gone?--now be thyself, my soul-- - Hard is the conflict, but the triumph glorious. - Yes.--I must conquer these too tender feelings; - The blood that fills these veins demands it of me; - My father's great example too requires it. - Forgive me _Rome_, and _glory_, if I yielded - To nature's strong attack:--I must subdue it. - Now, Regulus, I _feel_ I am thy _son_. - - _Enter_ ATTILIA _and_ BARCE. - - _At._ My brother, I'm distracted, wild with fear-- - Tell me, O tell me, what I dread to know-- - Is it then true?--I cannot speak--my father? - - _Barce._ May we believe the fatal news? - - _Pub._ Yes, Barce, - It is determin'd. Regulus must go. - - _At._ Immortal Powers!--What say'st thou? - - _Barce._ Can it be? - Thou canst not mean it. - - _At._ Then you've all betray'd me. - - _Pub._ Thy grief avails not. - - _Enter_ HAMILCAR _and_ LICINIUS. - - _Barce._ Pity us, Hamilcar! - - _At._ Oh, help, Licinius, help the lost Attilia! - - _Ham._ My Barce! there's no hope. - - _Lic._ Ah! my fair mourner, - All's lost. - - _At._ What all, Licinius? said'st thou all? - Not one poor glimpse of comfort left behind? - Tell me, at least, where Regulus is gone: - The daughter shall partake the father's chains, - And share the woes she knew not to prevent. [_Going._ - - _Pub._ What would thy wild despair? Attilia, stay, - Thou must not follow; this excess of grief - Would much offend him. - - _At._ Dost thou hope to stop me? - - _Pub._ I hope thou wilt resume thy better self, - And recollect thy father will not bear---- - - _At._ I only recollect I am a _daughter_, - A poor, defenceless, helpless, wretched daughter! - Away----and let me follow. - - _Pub._ No, my sister. - - _At._ Detain me not--Ah! while thou hold'st me here, - He goes, and I shall never see him more. - - _Barce._ My friend, be comforted, he cannot go - Whilst here Hamilcar stays. - - _At._ O Barce, Barce! - Who will advise, who comfort, who assist me? - Hamilcar, pity me.--Thou wilt not answer? - - _Ham._ Rage and astonishment divide my soul. - - _At._ Licinius, wilt thou not relieve my sorrows? - - _Lic._ Yes, at my life's expense, my heart's best treasure, - Wouldst thou instruct me how. - - _At._ My brother, too---- - Ah! look with mercy on thy sister's woes! - - _Pub._ I will at least instruct thee how to _bear_ them. - My sister--yield thee to thy adverse fate; - Think of thy father, think of Regulus; - Has he not taught thee how to brave misfortune? - 'Tis but by following his illustrious steps - Thou e'er canst merit to be call'd his daughter. - - _At._ And is it thus thou dost advise thy sister? - Are these, ye gods, the feelings of a son? - Indifference here becomes impiety-- - Thy savage heart ne'er felt the dear delights - Of filial tenderness--the thousand joys - That flow from blessing and from being bless'd! - No--didst thou love thy father as _I_ love him, - Our kindred souls would be in unison; - And all my sighs be echoed back by thine. - Thou wouldst--alas!--I know not what I say.-- - Forgive me, Publius,--but indeed, my brother, - I do not understand this cruel coldness. - - _Ham._ Thou may'st not--but I understand it well. - His mighty soul, full as to thee it seems - Of Rome, and glory--is enamour'd--caught-- - Enraptur'd with the beauties of fair Barce.-- - _She_ stays behind if Regulus _departs_. - Behold the cause of all the well-feign'd virtue - Of this mock patriot--curst dissimulation! - - _Pub._ And canst thou entertain such vile suspicions? - Gods! what an outrage to a son like me! - - _Ham._ Yes, Roman! now I see thee as thou art, - Thy naked soul divested of its veil, - Its specious colouring, its dissembled virtues: - Thou hast plotted with the Senate to prevent - Th' exchange of captives. All thy subtle arts, - Thy smooth inventions, have been set to work-- - The base refinements of your _polish'd_ land. - - _Pub._ In truth the doubt is worthy of an African. - [_Contemptuously._ - - _Ham._ I know.---- - - _Pub._ Peace, Carthaginian, peace, and hear me, - Dost thou not know, that on the very man - Thou hast insulted, Barce's fate depends? - - _Ham._ Too well I know, the cruel chance of war - Gave her, a blooming captive, to thy mother; - Who, dying, left the beauteous prize to thee. - - _Pub._ Now, see the use a _Roman_ makes of power. - Heav'n is my witness how I lov'd the maid! - Oh, she was dearer to my soul than light! - Dear as the vital stream that feeds my heart! - But know my _honour_'s dearer than my love. - I do not even hope _thou_ wilt believe me; - _Thy_ brutal soul, as savage as thy clime, - Can never taste those elegant delights, - Those pure refinements, love and glory yield. - 'Tis not to thee I stoop for vindication, - Alike to me thy friendship or thy hate; - But to remove from others a pretence - For branding Publius with the name of villain; - That _they_ may see no sentiment but honour - Informs this bosom--Barce, thou art _free_. - Thou hast my leave with him to quit this shore. - Now learn, barbarian, how a _Roman_ loves! [_Exit._ - - _Barce._ He cannot mean it! - - _Ham._ Oh, exalted virtue! - Which challenges esteem though from a foe. - [_Looking after_ PUBLIUS. - - _At._ Ah! cruel Publius, wilt thou leave me thus? - Thus leave thy sister? - - _Barce._ Didst thou hear, Hamilcar? - Oh, didst thou hear the god-like youth resign me? - - [HAMILCAR _and_ LICINIUS _seem lost in thought_. - - _Ham._ Farewell, I will return. - - _Lic._ Farewell, my love! [_To_ ATTILIA. - - _Barce._ Hamilcar, where---- - - _At._ Alas! where art thou going? - [_To_ LICINIUS. - - _Lic._ If possible, to save the life of Regulus. - - _At._ But by what means?--Ah! how canst thou effect it? - - _Lic._ Since the disease so desperate is become, - We must apply a desperate remedy. - - _Ham._ (_after a long pause._) - Yes--I will mortify this generous foe; - I'll be reveng'd upon this stubborn Roman; - Not by defiance bold, or feats of arms, - But by a means more sure to work its end; - By emulating his exalted worth, - And showing him a virtue like his own; - Such a refin'd revenge as noble minds - Alone can practise, and alone can feel. - - _At._ If thou wilt go, Licinius, let Attilia - At least go with thee. - - _Lic._ No, my gentle love, - Too much I prize thy safety and thy peace. - Let me entreat thee, stay with Barce here - Till our return. - - _At._ Then, ere ye go, in pity - Explain the latent purpose of your souls. - - _Lic._ Soon shalt thou know it all--Farewell! farewell! - Let us keep Regulus in _Rome_, or _die_. - [_To_ HAMILCAR _as he goes out_. - - _Ham._ Yes.--These smooth, polish'd Romans shall confess - The soil of _Afric_, too, produces heroes. - What, though our pride, perhaps, be less than theirs, - Our virtue may be equal: they shall own - The path of honour's not unknown to Carthage, - Nor, as they arrogantly think, confin'd - To their proud Capitol:----Yes--they shall learn - The gods look down on other climes than theirs. - [_Exit._ - - _At._ What gone, _both_ gone? What can I think or do? - Licinius leaves me, led by love and virtue, - To rouse the citizens to war and tumult, - Which may be fatal to himself and Rome, - And yet, alas! not serve my dearest father. - Protecting deities! preserve them both! - - _Barce._ Nor is thy Barce more at ease, my friend; - I dread the fierceness of Hamilcar's courage: - Rous'd by the grandeur of thy brother's deed, - And stung by his reproaches, his great soul - Will scorn to be outdone by him in glory. - Yet, let us rise to courage and to life, - Forget the weakness of our helpless sex, - And mount above these coward woman's fears. - Hope dawns upon my mind--my prospect clears, - And every cloud now brightens into day. - - _At._ How different are our souls! Thy sanguine temper, - Flush'd with the native vigour of thy soil, - Supports thy spirits; while the sad Attilia, - Sinking with more than all her sex's fears, - Sees not a beam of hope; or, if she sees it, - 'Tis not the bright, warm splendour of the sun; - It is a sickly and uncertain glimmer - Of instantaneous lightning passing by. - It shows, but not diminishes, the danger, - And leaves my poor benighted soul as dark - As it had never shone. - - _Barce._ Come, let us go. - Yes, joys unlook'd-for now shall gild thy days, - And brighter suns reflect propitious rays. [_Exeunt._ - - - SCENE--_A Hall looking towards the Garden._ - - _Enter_ REGULUS, _speaking to one of_ HAMILCAR'S _Attendants_. - - - Where's your Ambassador? where is Hamilcar? - Ere this he doubtless knows the Senate's will. - Go, seek him out--Tell him we must depart---- - Rome has no hope for him, or wish for me. - Longer delay were criminal in _both_. - - _Enter_ MANLIUS. - - _Reg._ He comes. The Consul comes! my noble friend! - O let me strain thee to this grateful heart, - And thank thee for the vast, vast debt I owe thee! - But for _thy_ friendship I had been a wretch---- - Had been compell'd to shameful _liberty_. - To thee I owe the glory of these chains, - My faith inviolate, my fame preserv'd, - My honour, virtue, glory, bondage,--all! - - _Man._ But we shall lose thee, so it is decreed---- - Thou must depart? - - _Reg._ Because I must depart - You will not lose me; I were lost, indeed, - Did I remain in Rome. - - _Man._ Ah! Regulus, - Why, why so late do I begin to love thee? - Alas! why have the adverse fates decreed - I ne'er must give thee other proofs of friendship, - Than those so fatal and so full of woe? - - _Reg._ Thou hast perform'd the duties of a friend; - Of a just, faithful, Roman, noble friend: - Yet, generous as thou art, if thou constrain me - To sink beneath a weight of obligation, - I could--yes, Manlius--I could ask still more. - - _Man._ Explain thyself. - - _Reg._ I think I have fulfill'd - The various duties of a citizen; - Nor have I aught beside to do for Rome. - Now, nothing for the public good remains! - Manlius, I recollect I am a father! - My Publius! my Attilia! ah! my friend, - They are--(forgive the weakness of a parent) - To my fond heart dear as the drops that warm it. - Next to my country they're my all of life; - And, if a weak old man be not deceiv'd, - They will not shame that country. Yes, my friend, - The love of virtue blazes in their souls. - As yet these tender plants are immature, - And ask the fostering hand of cultivation: - Heav'n, in its wisdom, would not let their _father_ - Accomplish this great work.--To thee, my friend, - The tender parent delegates the trust: - Do not refuse a poor man's legacy; - I do bequeath my orphans to thy love-- - If thou wilt kindly take them to thy bosom, - Their loss will be repaid with usury. - Oh, let the father owe his glory to thee, - The children their protection! - - _Man._ Regulus, - With grateful joy my heart accepts the trust: - Oh, I will shield, with jealous tenderness, - The precious blossoms from a blasting world. - In me thy children shall possess a father, - Though not as worthy, yet as fond as thee. - The pride be mine to fill their youthful breasts - With ev'ry virtue--'twill not cost me much: - I shall have nought to teach, nor they to learn, - But the great history of their god-like sire. - - _Reg._ I will not hurt the grandeur of thy virtue, - By paying thee so poor a thing as thanks. - Now all is over, and I bless the gods, - I've nothing more to do. - - _Enter_ PUBLIUS _in haste_. - - _Pub._ O Regulus! - - _Reg._ Say what has happened? - - _Pub._ Rome is in a tumult-- - There's scarce a citizen but runs to arms-- - They will not let thee go. - - _Reg._ Is't possible? - Can Rome so far forget her dignity - As to desire this infamous exchange? - I blush to think it! - - _Pub._ Ah! not so, my father. - Rome cares not for the peace, nor for th' exchange; - She only wills that Regulus shall stay. - - _Reg._ How, stay? my oath--my faith--my honour! ah! - Do they forget? - - _Pub._ No: every man exclaims - That neither faith nor honour should be kept - With Carthaginian perfidy and fraud. - - _Reg._ Gods! gods! on what vile principles they reason! - Can guilt in Carthage palliate guilt in Rome, - Or vice in one absolve it in another? - Ah! who hereafter shall be criminal, - If precedents are us'd to justify - The blackest crimes. - - _Pub._ Th' infatuated people - Have called the augurs to the sacred fane, - There to determine this momentous point. - - _Reg._ I have no need of _oracles_, my son; - _Honour's_ the oracle of honest men. - I gave my promise, which I will observe - With most religious strictness. Rome, 'tis true, - Had power to choose the peace, or change of slaves; - But whether Regulus return, or not, - Is _his_ concern, not the concern of _Rome_. - _That_ was a public, _this_ a private care. - Publius! thy father is not what he was; - _I_ am the slave of _Carthage_, nor has Rome - Power to dispose of captives not her own. - Guards! let us to the port.--Farewell, my friend. - - _Man._ Let me entreat thee stay; for shouldst thou go - To stem this tumult of the populace, - They will by force detain thee: then, alas! - Both Regulus and Rome must break their faith. - - _Reg._ What! must I then remain? - - _Man._ No, Regulus, - I will not check thy great career of glory: - Thou shalt depart; meanwhile, I'll try to calm - This wild tumultuous uproar of the people. - The consular authority shall still them. - - _Reg._ Thy virtue is my safeguard----but---- - - _Man._ Enough---- - _I_ know _thy_ honour, and trust thou to _mine_. - I am a _Roman_, and I feel some sparks - Of Regulus's virtue in my breast. - Though fate denies me thy illustrious chains, - I will at least endeavour to _deserve_ them. [_Exit._ - - _Reg._ How is my country alter'd! how, alas, - Is the great spirit of old Rome extinct! - _Restraint_ and _force_ must now be put to use - To _make_ her virtuous. She must be _compell'd_ - To faith and honour.--Ah! what, Publius here? - And dost thou leave so tamely to my friend - The honour to assist me? Go, my boy, - 'Twill make me _more_ in love with chains and death, - To owe them to a _son_. - - _Pub._ I go, my father-- - I will, I will obey thee. - - _Reg._ Do not sigh---- - One sigh will check the progress of thy glory. - - _Pub._ Yes, I will own the pangs of death itself - Would be less cruel than these agonies: - Yet do not frown austerely on thy son: - His anguish is his virtue: if to conquer - The feelings of my soul were easy to me, - 'Twould be no merit. Do not then defraud - The sacrifice I make thee of its worth. - [_Exeunt severally._ - - - MANLIUS, ATTILIA. - - _At._ (_speaking as she enters._) - Where is the Consul?--Where, oh, where is Manlius? - I come to breathe the voice of mourning to him, - I come to crave his mercy, to conjure him - To whisper peace to my afflicted bosom, - And heal the anguish of a wounded spirit. - - _Man._ What would the daughter of my noble friend? - - _At._ (_kneeling._) - If ever pity's sweet emotions touch'd thee,-- - If ever gentle love assail'd thy breast,-- - If ever virtuous friendship fir'd thy soul-- - By the dear names of husband and of parent-- - By all the soft, yet powerful ties of nature-- - If e'er thy lisping infants charm'd thine ear, - And waken'd all the father in thy soul,-- - If e'er thou hop'st to have thy latter days - Blest by their love, and sweeten'd by their duty-- - Oh, hear a kneeling, weeping, wretched daughter, - Who begs a father's life!--nor hers alone, - But Rome's--his country's father. - - _Man._ Gentle maid! - Oh, spare this soft, subduing eloquence!-- - Nay, rise. I shall forget I am a Roman-- - Forget the mighty debt I owe my country-- - Forget the fame and glory of thy father. - I must conceal this weakness. [_Turns from her._ - - _At._ (_rises eagerly._) Ah! you weep! - Indulge, indulge, my Lord, the virtuous softness: - Was ever sight so graceful, so becoming, - As pity's tear upon the hero's cheek? - - _Man._ No more--I must not hear thee. [_Going._ - - _At._ How! not, not hear me! - You must--you shall--nay, nay return, my Lord-- - Oh, fly not from me!----look upon my woes, - And imitate the mercy of the gods: - 'Tis not their thunder that excites our reverence, - 'Tis their mild mercy, and forgiving love. - 'Twill add a brighter lustre to thy laurels, - When men shall say, and proudly point thee out, - "Behold the Consul!--He who sav'd his friend." - Oh, what a tide of joy will overwhelm thee! - Who will not envy thee thy glorious feelings? - - _Man._ Thy father scorns his liberty and life, - Nor will accept of either at the expense - Of honour, virtue, glory, faith, and Rome. - - _At._ Think you behold the god-like Regulus - The prey of unrelenting savage foes, - Ingenious only in contriving ill:---- - Eager to glut their hunger of revenge, - They'll plot such new, such dire, unheard-of tortures-- - Such dreadful, and such complicated vengeance, - As e'en the Punic annals have not known; - And, as they heap fresh torments on his head, - They'll glory in their genius for destruction. - --Ah! Manlius--now methinks I see my father-- - My faithful fancy, full of his idea, - Presents him to me--mangled, gash'd, and torn-- - Stretch'd on the rack in writhing agony-- - The torturing pincers tear his quivering flesh, - While the dire murderers smile upon his wounds, - His groans their music, and his pangs their sport. - And if they lend some interval of ease, - Some dear-bought intermission, meant to make - The following pang more exquisitely felt, - Th' insulting executioners exclaim, - --"Now, Roman! feel the vengeance thou hast scorn'd." - - _Man._ Repress thy sorrows---- - - _At._ Can the friend of Regulus - Advise his daughter not to mourn his fate? - How cold, alas! is friendship when compar'd - To ties of blood--to nature's powerful impulse! - Yes--she asserts her empire in my soul, - 'Tis Nature pleads--she will--she must be heard; - With warm, resistless eloquence she pleads.-- - Ah, thou art soften'd!--see--the Consul yields-- - The feelings triumph--tenderness prevails-- - The Roman is subdued--the daughter conquers! - [_Catching hold of his robe._ - - _Man._ Ah, hold me not!--I must not, cannot stay, - The softness of thy sorrow is contagious; - I, too, may feel when I should only reason. - I dare not hear thee--Regulus and Rome, - The patriot and the friend--all, all forbid it. - [_Breaks from her, and exit._ - - _At._ O feeble grasp!--and is he gone, quite gone? - Hold, hold thy empire, Reason, firmly hold it, - Or rather quit at once thy feeble throne, - Since thou but serv'st to show me what I've lost, - To heighten all the horrors that await me; - To summon up a wild distracted crowd - Of fatal images, to shake my soul, - To scare sweet peace, and banish hope itself. - Farewell! delusive dreams of joy, farewell! - Come, fell Despair! thou pale-ey'd spectre, come, - For thou shalt be Attilia's inmate now, - And thou shalt grow, and twine about her heart, - And she shall be so much enamour'd of thee, - The pageant Pleasure ne'er shall interpose - Her gaudy presence to divide you more. - [_Stands in an attitude of silent grief._ - - - _Enter_ LICINIUS. - - _Lic._ At length I've found thee--ah, my charming maid! - How have I sought thee out with anxious fondness! - Alas! she hears me not.----My best Attilia! - Ah! grief oppresses every gentle sense. - Still, still she hears not----'tis Licinius speaks, - He comes to soothe the anguish of thy spirit, - And hush thy tender sorrows into peace. - - _At._ Who's he that dares assume the voice of love, - And comes unbidden to these dreary haunts? - Steals on the sacred treasury of woe, - And breaks the league Despair and I have made? - - _Lic._ 'Tis one who comes the messenger of heav'n, - To talk of peace, of comfort, and of joy. - - _At._ Didst thou not mock me with the sound of joy? - Thou little know'st the anguish of my soul, - If thou believ'st I ever can again, - So long the wretched sport of angry Fortune, - Admit delusive hope to my sad bosom. - No----I abjure the flatterer and her train. - Let those, who ne'er have been like me deceiv'd, - Embrace the fair fantastic sycophant-- - For I, alas! am wedded to despair, - And will not hear the sound of comfort more. - - _Lic._ Cease, cease, my love, this tender voice of woe, - Though softer than the dying cygnet's plaint: - She ever chants her most melodious strain - When death and sorrow harmonise her note. - - _At._ Yes--I will listen now with fond delight; - For death and sorrow are my darling themes. - Well!--what hast thou to say of death and sorrow? - Believe me, thou wilt find me apt to listen, - And, if my tongue be slow to answer thee, - Instead of words I'll give thee sighs and tears. - - _Lic._ I come to dry thy tears, not make them flow; - The gods once more propitious smile upon us, - Joy shall again await each happy morn, - And ever-new delight shall crown the day! - Yes, Regulus shall live.---- - - _At._ Ah me! what say'st thou? - Alas! I'm but a poor, weak, trembling woman-- - I cannot bear these wild extremes of fate-- - Then mock me not.--I think thou art Licinius, - The generous lover, and the faithful friend! - I think thou wouldst not sport with my afflictions. - - _Lic._ Mock thy afflictions?--May eternal Jove, - And every power at whose dread shrine we worship, - Blast all the hopes my fond ideas form, - If I deceive thee! Regulus shall live, - Shall live to give thee to Licinius' arms. - Oh! we will smooth his downward path of life, - And after a long length of virtuous years, - At the last verge of honourable age, - When nature's glimmering lamp goes gently out, - We'll close, together close his eyes in peace-- - Together drop the sweetly-painful tear-- - Then copy out his virtues in our lives. - - _At._ And shall we be so blest? is't possible? - Forgive me, my Licinius, if I doubt thee. - Fate never gave such exquisite delight - As flattering hope hath imag'd to thy soul. - But how?----Explain this bounty of the gods. - - _Lic._ Thou know'st what influence the name of Tribune - Gives its possessor o'er the people's minds: - That power I have exerted, nor in vain; - All are prepar'd to second my designs: - The plot is ripe,--there's not a man but swears - To keep thy god-like father here in Rome---- - To save his life at hazard of his own. - - _At._ By what gradation does my joy ascend! - I thought that if my father had been sav'd - By any means, I had been rich in bliss: - But that he lives, and lives preserv'd by thee, - Is such a prodigality of fate, - I cannot bear my joy with moderation: - Heav'n should have dealt it with a scantier hand, - And not have shower'd such plenteous blessings on me; - They are too great, too flattering to be real; - 'Tis some delightful vision, which enchants, - And cheats my senses, weaken'd by misfortune. - - _Lic._ We'll seek thy father, and meanwhile, my fair, - Compose thy sweet emotions ere thou see'st him, - Pleasure itself is painful in excess; - For joys, like sorrows, in extreme, oppress: - The gods themselves our pious cares approve, - And to reward our virtue crown our love. - - - - - ACT V. - - - _An Apartment in the Ambassador's Palace--Guards - and other Attendants seen at a distance._ - - - _Ham._ Where is this wondrous man, this matchless hero, - This arbiter of kingdoms and of kings, - This delegate of heav'n, this Roman god? - I long to show his soaring mind an equal, - And bring it to the standard of humanity. - What pride, what glory will it be to fix - An obligation on his stubborn soul! - Oh! to constrain a foe to be obliged! - The very thought exalts me e'en to rapture. - - _Enter_ REGULUS _and Guards_. - - _Ham._ Well, Regulus!--At last-- - - _Reg._ I know it all; - I know the motive of thy just complaint-- - Be not alarm'd at this licentious uproar - Of the mad populace. I will depart-- - Fear not--I will not stay in Rome alive. - - _Ham._ What dost thou mean by uproar and alarms? - Hamilcar does not come to vent complaints; - He rather comes to prove that Afric, too, - Produces heroes, and that Tiber's banks - May find a rival on the Punic coast. - - _Reg._ Be it so.--'Tis not a time for vain debate: - Collect thy people.--Let us strait depart. - - _Ham._ Lend me thy hearing, first. - - _Reg._ O patience, patience! - - _Ham._ Is it esteem'd a glory to be grateful? - - _Reg._ The time has been when 'twas a duty only, - But 'tis a duty now so little practis'd, - That to perform it is become a glory. - - _Ham._ If to fulfil it should expose to danger?---- - - _Reg._ It rises then to an illustrious virtue. - - _Ham._ Then grant this merit to an African. - Give me a patient hearing----Thy great son, - As delicate in honour as in love, - Hath nobly given my Barce to my arms; - And yet I know he doats upon the maid. - I come to emulate the generous deed; - He gave me back my love, and in return - I will restore his father. - - _Reg._ Ah! what say'st thou? - Wilt thou preserve me then? - - _Ham._ I will. - - _Reg._ But how? - - _Ham._ By leaving thee at liberty to _fly_. - - _Reg._ Ah! - - _Ham._ I will dismiss my guards on some pretence, - Meanwhile do thou escape, and lie conceal'd: - I will affect a rage I shall not feel, - Unmoor my ships, and sail for Africa. - - _Reg._ Abhorr'd barbarian! - - _Ham._ Well, what dost thou say? - Art thou not much surpris'd? - - _Reg._ I am, indeed. - - _Ham._ Thou could'st not then have hop'd it? - - _Reg._ No! I could not. - - _Ham._ And yet I'm not a Roman. - - _Reg._ (_smiling contemptuously._) I perceive it. - - _Ham._ You may retire (_aloud to the guards_). - - _Reg._ No!--Stay, I charge you stay. - - _Ham._ And wherefore stay? - - _Reg._ I thank thee for thy offer, - But I shall go with thee. - - _Ham._ 'Tis well, proud man! - Thou dost despise me, then? - - _Reg._ No--but I pity thee. - - _Ham._ Why pity me? - - _Reg._ Because thy poor dark soul - Hath never felt the piercing ray of virtue. - Know, African! the scheme thou dost propose - Would injure me, thy country, and thyself. - - _Ham._ Thou dost mistake. - - _Reg._ Who was it gave thee power - To rule the destiny of Regulus? - Am I a slave to Carthage, or to thee? - - _Ham._ What does it signify from whom, proud Roman! - Thou dost receive this benefit? - - _Reg._ A benefit? - O savage ignorance! is it a benefit - To lie, elope, deceive, and be a villain? - - _Ham._ What! not when life itself, when all's at stake? - Know'st thou my countrymen prepare thee tortures - That shock imagination but to think of? - Thou wilt be mangled, butcher'd, rack'd, impal'd. - Does not thy nature shrink? - - _Reg._ (_smiling at his threats._) Hamilcar! no. - Dost thou not know the Roman genius better? - We live on honour--'tis our food, our life. - The motive, and the measure of our deeds! - We look on death as on a common object; - The tongue nor faulters, nor the cheek turns pale, - Nor the calm eye is mov'd at sight of him: - We court, and we embrace him undismay'd; - We smile at tortures if they lead to glory, - And only cowardice and guilt appal us. - - _Ham._ Fine sophistry! the valour of the tongue, - The heart disclaims it; leave this pomp of words, - And cease dissembling with a friend like me. - I know that life is dear to all who live, - That death is dreadful,--yes, and must be fear'd, - E'en by the frozen apathists of Rome. - - _Reg._ Did I fear death when on Bagrada's banks - I fac'd and slew the formidable serpent - That made your boldest Africans recoil, - And shrink with horror, though the monster liv'd - A native inmate of their own parch'd deserts? - Did I fear death before the gates of Adis?-- - Ask Bostar, or let Asdrubal confess. - - _Ham._ Or shall I rather of Xantippus ask, - Who dar'd to undeceive deluded Rome, - And prove this vaunter not invincible? - 'Tis even said, in Africa I mean, - He made a prisoner of this demigod.-- - Did we not triumph then? - - _Reg._ Vain boaster! no. - No Carthaginian conquer'd Regulus; - Xantippus was a Greek--a brave one too: - Yet what distinction did your Afric make - Between the man who serv'd her, and her foe: - I was the object of her open hate; - He, of her secret, dark malignity. - He durst not trust the nation he had sav'd; - He knew, and therefore fear'd you.--Yes, he knew - Where once you were oblig'd you ne'er forgave. - Could you forgive at all, you'd rather pardon - The man who hated, than the man who serv'd you. - Xantippus found his ruin ere it reach'd him, - Lurking behind your honours and rewards; - Found it in your feign'd courtesies and fawnings. - When vice intends to strike a master stroke, - Its veil is smiles, its language protestations. - The Spartan's merit threaten'd, but his service - Compell'd his ruin.--Both you could not pardon. - - _Ham._ Come, come, I know full well---- - - _Reg._ Barbarian! peace. - I've heard too much.--Go, call thy followers: - Prepare thy ships, and learn to do thy duty. - - _Ham._ Yes!--show thyself intrepid, and insult me; - Call mine the blindness of barbarian friendship. - On Tiber's banks I hear thee, and am calm: - But know, thou scornful Roman! that too soon - In Carthage thou may'st fear and feel my vengeance: - Thy cold, obdurate pride shall there confess, - Though Rome may talk--'tis Africa can punish. - [_Exit._ - - _Reg._ Farewell! I've not a thought to waste on thee. - Where is the Consul? why does Publius stay? - Alas! I fear--but see Attilia comes!-- - - _Enter_ ATTILIA. - - _Reg._ What brings thee here, my child? what eager joy - Transports thee thus? - - _At._ I cannot speak--my father! - Joy chokes my utterance--Rome, dear grateful Rome, - (Oh, may her cup with blessings overflow!) - Gives up our common destiny to thee; - Faithful and constant to th' advice thou gav'st her, - She will not hear of peace, or change of slaves, - But she insists--reward and bless her, gods!-- - That thou shalt here remain. - - _Reg._ What! with the shame---- - - _At._ Oh! no--the sacred senate hath consider'd - That when to Carthage thou did'st pledge thy faith, - Thou wast a captive, and that being such, - Thou could'st not bind thyself in covenant. - - _Reg._ He who can die, is always free, my child! - Learn farther, he who owns another's strength - Confesses his own weakness.--Let them know, - I swore I would return because I chose it, - And will return, because I swore to do it. - - _Enter_ PUBLIUS. - - _Pub._ Vain is that hope, my father. - - _Reg._ Who shall stop me? - - _Pub._ All Rome.----The citizens are up in arms: - In vain would reason stop the growing torrent; - In vain wouldst thou attempt to reach the port, - The way is barr'd by thronging multitudes: - The other streets of Rome are all deserted. - - _Reg._ Where, where is Manlius? - - _Pub._ He is still thy friend: - His single voice opposes a whole people; - He threats this moment and the next entreats, - But all in vain; none hear him, none obey. - The general fury rises e'en to madness. - The axes tremble in the lictors' hands, - Who, pale and spiritless, want power to use them-- - And one wild scene of anarchy prevails. - - _Reg._ Farewell! my daughter. Publius, follow me. - [_Exit_ PUBLIUS. - - _At._ Ah! where? I tremble---- - [_Detaining_ REGULUS. - - _Reg._ To assist my friend-- - T' upbraid my hapless country with her crime-- - To keep unstain'd the glory of these chains-- - To go, or perish. - - _At._ Oh! have mercy! - - _Reg._ Hold; - I have been patient with thee; have indulg'd - Too much the fond affections of thy soul; - It is enough; thy grief would now offend - Thy father's honour; do not let thy tears - Conspire with Rome to rob me of my triumph. - - _At._ Alas! it wounds my soul. - - _Reg._ I know it does. - I know 'twill grieve thy gentle heart to lose me; - But think, thou mak'st the sacrifice to Rome, - And all is well again. - - _At._ Alas! my father, - In aught beside---- - - _Reg._ What wouldst thou do, my child? - Canst thou direct the destiny of Rome, - And boldly plead amid the assembled senate? - Canst thou, forgetting all thy sex's softness, - Fiercely engage in hardy deeds of arms? - Canst thou encounter labour, toil and famine, - Fatigue and hardships, watchings, cold and heat? - Canst thou attempt to serve thy country thus? - Thou canst not:--but thou may'st sustain my loss - Without these agonising pains of grief, - And set a bright example of submission, - Worthy a Roman's daughter. - - _At._ Yet such fortitude-- - - _Reg._ Is a most painful virtue;--but Attilia - Is Regulus's daughter, and must have it. - - _At._ I will entreat the gods to give it me. - Ah! thou art offended! I have lost thy love. - - _Reg._ Is this concern a mark that thou hast lost it? - I cannot, cannot spurn my weeping child. - Receive this proof of my paternal fondness;-- - Thou lov'st Licinius--he too loves my daughter. - I give thee to his wishes; I do more-- - I give thee to his virtues.--Yes, Attilia, - The noble youth deserves this dearest pledge - Thy father's friendship ever can bestow. - - _At._ My lord! my father! wilt thou, canst thou leave me? - The tender father will not quit his child! - - _Reg._ I am, I am thy father! as a proof, - I leave thee my example how to suffer. - My child! I have a heart within this bosom; - That heart has passions--see in what we differ; - Passion--which is thy tyrant--is my slave. - - _At._ Ah! stay my father. Ah!-- - - _Reg._ Farewell! farewell! - [_Exit._ - - _At._ Yes, Regulus! I feel thy spirit here, - Thy mighty spirit struggling in this breast, - And it shall conquer all these coward feelings, - It shall subdue the woman in my soul; - A Roman virgin should be something more-- - Should dare above her sex's narrow limits-- - And I will dare--and mis'ry shall assist me-- - My father! I will be indeed thy daughter! - The hero shall no more disdain his child; - Attilia shall not be the only branch - That yields dishonour to the parent tree. - - _Enter_ BARCE. - - _Barce._ Attilia! is it true that Regulus, - In spite of senate, people, augurs, friends, - And children, will depart? - - _At._ Yes, it is true. - - _Barce._ Oh! what romantic madness! - - _At._ You forget-- - Barce! the deeds of heroes claim respect. - - _Barce._ Dost thou approve a virtue which must lead - To chains, to tortures, and to certain death? - - _At._ Barce! those chains, those tortures, and that death, - Will be his triumph. - - _Barce._ Thou art pleas'd, Attilia: - By heav'n thou dost exult in his destruction! - - _At._ Ah! pitying powers. [_Weeps._ - - _Barce._ I do not comprehend thee. - - _At._ No, Barce, I believe it.--Why, how shouldst thou? - If I mistake not, thou wast born in Carthage, - In a barbarian land, where never child - Was taught to triumph in a father's chains. - - _Barce._ Yet thou dost weep--thy tears at least are honest, - For they refuse to share thy tongue's deceit; - They speak the genuine language of affliction, - And tell the sorrows that oppress thy soul. - - _At._ Grief, that dissolves in tears, relieves the heart. - When congregated vapours melt in rain, - The sky is calm'd, and all's serene again. [_Exit._ - - _Barce._ Why, what a strange, fantastic land is this! - This love of glory's the disease of Rome; - It makes her mad, it is a wild delirium, - An universal and contagious frenzy; - It preys on all, it spares nor sex nor age: - The Consul envies Regulus his chains-- - He, not less mad, contemns his life and freedom-- - The daughter glories in the father's ruin-- - And Publius, more distracted than the rest, - Resigns the object that his soul adores, - For this vain phantom, for this empty glory. - This may be virtue; but I thank the gods, - The soul of Barce's not a Roman soul. [_Exit._ - - - _Scene within sight of the Tiber--Ships ready for the embarkation - of Regulus and the Ambassador--Tribune and People stopping up the - passage--Consul and Lictors endeavouring to clear it._ - - MANLIUS _and_ LICINIUS _advance_. - - _Lic._ Rome will not suffer Regulus to go. - - _Man._ I thought the Consul and the Senators - Had been a part of Rome. - - _Lic._ I grant they are-- - But still the people are the greater part. - - _Man._ The greater, not the wiser. - - _Lic._ The less cruel.---- - Full of esteem and gratitude to Regulus, - We would preserve his life. - - _Man._ And we his honour. - - _Lic._ His honour!---- - - _Man._ Yes. Time presses. Words are vain. - Make way there--clear the passage. - - _Lic._ On your lives, - Stir not a man. - - _Man._ I do command you, go. - - _Lic._ And I forbid it. - - _Man._ Clear the way, my friends. - How dares Licinius thus oppose the Consul? - - _Lic._ How dar'st thou, Manlius, thus oppose the Tribune? - - _Man._ I'll show thee what I dare, imprudent boy!-- - Lictors, force through the passage. - - _Lic._ Romans, guard it. - - _Man._ Gods! is my power resisted then with arms? - Thou dost affront the Majesty of Rome. - - _Lic._ The Majesty of Rome is in the people; - Thou dost insult it by opposing them. - - _People._ Let noble Regulus remain in Rome. - - _Man._ My friends, let me explain this treacherous scheme. - - _People._ We will not hear thee----Regulus shall stay. - - _Man._ What! none obey me? - - _People._ Regulus shall stay. - - _Man._ Romans, attend.---- - - _People._ Let Regulus remain. - - _Enter_ REGULUS, _followed by_ PUBLIUS, ATTILIA, - HAMILCAR, BARCE, _&c._ - - _Reg._ Let Regulus remain! What do I hear? - Is't possible the wish should come from you? - Can Romans give, or Regulus accept, - A life of infamy? Is't possible? - Where is the ancient virtue of my country? - Rise, rise, ye mighty spirits of old Rome! - I do invoke you from your silent tombs; - Fabricius, Cocles, and Camillus, rise, - And show your sons what their great fathers were. - My countrymen, what crime have I committed? - Alas! how has the wretched Regulus - Deserv'd your hatred? - - _Lic._ Hatred? ah! my friend, - It is our love would break these cruel chains. - - _Reg._ If you deprive me of my chains, I'm nothing; - They are my honours, riches, titles,--all! - They'll shame my enemies, and grace my country; - They'll waft her glory to remotest climes, - Beyond her provinces and conquer'd realms, - Where yet her conq'ring eagles never flew; - Nor shall she blush hereafter if she find - Recorded with her faithful citizens - The name of Regulus, the captive Regulus. - My countrymen! what, think you, kept in awe - The Volsci, Sabines, AEqui, and Hernici? - The arms of Rome alone? no, 'twas her virtue; - That sole surviving good, which brave men keep - Though fate and warring worlds combine against them: - This still is mine--and I'll preserve it, Romans! - The wealth of Plutus shall not bribe it from me! - If you, alas! require this sacrifice, - Carthage herself was less my foe than Rome; - She took my freedom--she could take no more; - But Rome, to crown her work, would take my honour. - My friends! if you deprive me of my chains, - I am no more than any other slave: - Yes, Regulus becomes a common captive, - A wretched, lying, perjur'd fugitive! - But if, to grace my bonds, you leave my honour, - I shall be still a Roman, though a slave. - - _Lic._ What faith should be observ'd with savages? - What promise should be kept which bonds extort? - - _Reg._ Unworthy subterfuge! ah! let us leave - To the wild Arab and the faithless Moor - These wretched maxims of deceit and fraud: - Examples ne'er can justify the coward: - The brave man never seeks a vindication, - Save from his own just bosom and the gods; - From principle, not precedent, he acts: - As that arraigns him, or as that acquits, - He stands or falls; condemn'd or justified. - - _Lic._ Rome is no more if Regulus departs. - - _Reg._ Let Rome remember Regulus must die! - Nor would the moment of my death be distant, - If nature's work had been reserv'd for nature: - What Carthage means to do, _she_ would have done - As speedily, perhaps, at least as surely. - My wearied life has almost reach'd its goal; - The once-warm current stagnates in these veins, - Or through its icy channels slowly creeps---- - View the weak arm; mark the pale furrow'd cheek, - The slacken'd sinew, and the dim sunk eye, - And tell me then I must not think of dying! - How can I serve you else? My feeble limbs - Would totter now beneath the armour's weight, - The burden of that body it once shielded. - You see, my friends, you see, my countrymen, - I can no longer show myself a Roman, - Except by dying like one.----Gracious Heaven - Points out a way to crown my days with glory; - Oh, do not frustrate, then, the will of Jove, - And close a life of virtue with disgrace! - Come, come, I know my noble Romans better; - I see your souls, I read repentance in them; - You all applaud me--nay, you wish my chains: - 'Twas nothing but excess of love misled you, - And as you're Romans you will conquer that. - Yes!--I perceive your weakness is subdu'd-- - Seize, seize the moment of returning virtue; - Throw to the ground, my sons, those hostile arms; - no longer Regulus's triumph; - I do request it of you, as a friend, - I call you to your duty, as a patriot, - And--were I still your gen'ral, I'd command you. - - _Lic._ Lay down your arms--let Regulus depart. - - [_To the People, who clear the way, and quit their arms._ - - _Reg._ Gods! gods! I thank you--you indeed are righteous. - - _Pub._ See every man disarm'd. Oh, Rome! oh, father! - - _At._ Hold, hold my heart. Alas! they all obey. - - _Reg._ The way is clear. Hamilcar, I attend thee. - - _Ham._ Why, I begin to envy this old man! [_Aside._ - - _Man._ Not the proud victor on the day of triumph, - Warm from the slaughter of dispeopled realms, - Though conquer'd princes grace his chariot wheels, - Though tributary monarchs wait his nod, - And vanquish'd nations bend the knee before him, - E'er shone with half the lustre that surrounds - This voluntary sacrifice for Rome! - Who loves his country will obey her laws; - Who most obeys them is the truest patriot. - - _Reg._ Be our last parting worthy of ourselves. - Farewell! my friends.--I bless the gods who rule us, - Since I must leave you, that I leave you Romans. - Preserve the glorious name untainted still, - And you shall be the rulers of the globe, - The arbiters of earth. The farthest east, - Beyond where Ganges rolls his rapid flood, - Shall proudly emulate the Roman name. - (_Kneels._) Ye gods, the guardians of this glorious people, - Who watch with jealous eye AEneas' race, - This land of heroes I commit to you! - This ground, these walls, this people be your care! - Oh! bless them, bless them with a liberal hand! - Let fortitude and valour, truth and justice, - For ever flourish and increase among them! - And if some baneful planet threat the Capitol - With its malignant influence, oh, avert it!-- - Be Regulus the victim of your wrath.-- - On this white head be all your vengeance pour'd, - But spare, oh, spare, and bless immortal Rome! - Ah! tears? my Romans weep? Farewell! farewell! - - ATTILIA _struggles to get to_ REGULUS--_is prevented--she - faints--he fixes his eye steadily on her for some time, - and then departs to the ships_. - - _Man._ (_looking after him._) - Farewell! farewell! thou glory of mankind! - Protector, father, saviour of thy country! - Through Regulus the Roman name shall live, - Shall triumph over time, and mock oblivion. - Farewell! thou pride of this immortal coast! - 'Tis Rome alone a Regulus can boast. - - - - - EPILOGUE. - - WRITTEN BY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ. - - SPOKEN BY MISS MANSELL. - - - What son of physic, but his art extends, - As well as hand, when call'd on by his friends? - What landlord is so weak to make you fast, - When guests like you bespeak a good repast? - But weaker still were he whom fate has plac'd - To soothe your cares, and gratify your taste, - Should he neglect to bring before your eyes - Those dainty dramas which from genius rise; - Whether your luxury be to smile or weep, - His and your profits just proportion keep. - To-night he brought, nor fears a due reward, - A Roman Patriot by a Female Bard. - Britons who feel his flame, his worth will rate, - No common spirit his, no common fate. - INFLEXIBLE and CAPTIVE must be great. - "How!" cries a sucking , thus lounging, straddling - (Whose head shows want of ballast by its nodding), - "A woman write? Learn, Madam, of your betters, - And read a noble Lord's Post-hu-mous Letters. - There you will learn the sex may merit praise - By making puddings--not by making plays: - They can make tea and mischief, dance and sing; - Their heads, though full of feathers, can't take wing." - I thought they could, Sir; now and then by chance, - Maids fly to Scotland, and some wives to France. - He still went nodding on--"Do all she can, - Woman's a trifle--play-thing--like her fan." - Right, Sir, and when a wife the _rattle_ of a man. - And shall such _things_ as these become the test - Of female worth? the fairest and the best - Of all heaven's creatures? for so Milton sung us, - And, with such champions, who shall dare to wrong us? - Come forth, proud man, in all your pow'rs array'd; - Shine out in all your splendour--Who's afraid? - Who on French wit has made a glorious war, - Defended Shakspeare, and subdu'd Voltaire?-- - Woman![A]--Who, rich in knowledge, knows no pride, - Can boast ten tongues, and yet not satisfied? - Woman![B]--Who lately sung the sweetest lay? - A woman! woman! woman![C] still I say. - Well, then, who dares deny our power and might? - Will any married man dispute our right? - Speak boldly, Sirs,--your wives are not in sight. - What! are you silent? then you are content; - Silence, the proverb tells us, gives consent. - Critics, will you allow our honest claim? - Are you dumb, too? This night has fix'd our fame. - - - - -FOOTNOTES. - - A: Mrs. Montague, Author of an Essay on the Writings of - Shakspeare. - - B: Mrs. Carter, well known for her skill in ancient and - modern languages. - - C: Miss Aikin, whose Poems were just published. - - - LONDON: - Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode, - New-Street-Square. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: - -Hyphenation is inconsistent. - -In view of the Roman context, the word "virtus" was left in place in -a speech by Manlius in Act III, although it may be a misprint for -"virtue". - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inflexible Captive, by Hannah More - + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + + + + THE + INFLEXIBLE CAPTIVE: + + A TRAGEDY. + IN FIVE ACTS. + + AS IT WAS ACTED AT THE + THEATRE ROYAL, AT BATH. + + + The man resolv'd, and steady to his trust, + Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just. + + + * * * * * + + + Drawn from: + + THE + WORKS + OF + + HANNAH MORE. + + VOL. II. + + LONDON + PRINTED FOR T. CADELL, STRAND + 1830. + + + * * * * * + + + TO + THE HONOURABLE + MRS. BOSCAWEN. + + + MY DEAR MADAM, + +It seems somewhat extraordinary that although with persons of great +merit and delicacy no virtue stands in higher estimation than truth, +yet, in such an address as the present, there would be some danger +of offending them by a strict adherence to it; I mean by uttering +truths so generally acknowledged, that every one, except the person +addressed, would acquit the writer of flattery. And it will be a +singular circumstance to see a Dedication without praise, to a lady +possessed of every quality and accomplishment which can justly entitle +her to it. + + I am, + + MY DEAR MADAM, + With great respect, + your most obedient, + and very obliged humble servant, + + THE AUTHOR. + + + + +THE ARGUMENT. + + +Among the great names which have done honour to antiquity in general, +and to the Roman Republic in particular, that of Marcus Attilius Regulus +has, by the general consent of all ages, been considered as one of the +most splendid, since he not only sacrificed his labours, his liberty, +and his life for the good of his country, but by a greatness of soul, +almost peculiar to himself, contrived to make his very misfortunes +contribute to that glorious end. + +After the Romans had met with various successes in the first Punic +war, under the command of Regulus, victory at length declared for the +opposite party, the Roman army was totally overthrown, and Regulus +himself taken prisoner, by Xantippus, a Lacedaemonian General in the +service of the Carthaginians: the victorious enemy exulting in so +important a conquest, kept him many years in close imprisonment, and +loaded him with the most cruel indignities. They thought it was now +in their power to make their own terms with Rome, and determined to +send Regulus thither with their ambassador, to negotiate a peace, or +at least an exchange of captives, thinking he would gladly persuade +his countrymen to discontinue a war, which necessarily prolonged his +captivity. They previously exacted from him an oath to return should his +embassy prove unsuccessful; at the same time giving him to understand, +that he must expect to suffer a cruel death if he failed in it; this +they artfully intimated as the strongest motive for him to leave no +means unattempted to accomplish their purpose. + +At the unexpected arrival of this venerable hero, the Romans expressed +the wildest transports of joy, and would have submitted to almost +any conditions to procure his enlargement; but Regulus, so far from +availing himself of his influence with the Senate to obtain any personal +advantages, employed it to induce them to reject proposals so evidently +tending to dishonour their country, declaring his fixed resolution to +return to bondage and death, rather than violate his oath. + +He at last extorted from them their consent; and departed amidst the +tears of his family, the importunites of his friends, the applauses of +the Senate, and the tumultuous opposition of the people; and, as a great +poet of his own nation beautifully observes, "he embarked for Carthage +as calm and unconcerned as if, on finishing the tedious law-suits of his +clients, he was retiring to Venafrian fields, or the sweet country of +Tarentum." + + * * * * * + +==> This piece is, in many parts, a pretty close imitation of the +_Attilio Regolo_ of Metastasio, but enlarged and extended into a tragedy +of five acts. Historical truth has in general been followed, except in +some less essential instances, particularly that of placing the return +of Regulus to Rome posterior to the death of his wife. The writer +herself never considered the plot as sufficiently bustling and dramatic +for representation. + + + + + PROLOGUE. + + WRITTEN BY THE REV. DR. LANGHORNE. + + + Deep in the bosom of departed days, + Where the first gems of human glory blaze; + Where, crown'd with flowers, in wreaths immortal drest, + The sacred shades of ancient virtue rest; + With joy they search, who joy can feel, to find + Some honest reason still to love mankind. + There the fair foundress of the scene to-night + Explores the paths that dignify delight; + The regions of the mighty dead pervades; + The Sibyl she that leads us to the shades. + O may each blast of ruder breath forbear + To waft her light leaves on the ruthless air, + Since she, as heedless, strives not to maintain + This tender offspring of her teeming brain! + For this poor birth was no provision made, + A flower that sprung and languish'd in the shade. + On Avon's banks, forsaken and forlorn, + This careless mother left her elder born; + And though unlike what Avon hail'd of yore, + Those giant sons that Shakspeare's banners bore, + Yet may we yield this little offspring grace, + And love the last and least of such a race. + Shall the strong scenes, where senatorial Rome, + Mourn'd o'er the rigour of her patriot's doom; + Where melting Nature aw'd by Virtue's eye, + Hid the big drop, and held the bursting sigh; + Where all that majesty of soul can give, + Truth, Honour, Pity, fair Affection live; + Shall scenes like these, the glory of an age, + Gleam from the press, nor triumph on the stage? + Forbid it, Britons! and, as Romans brave, + Like Romans boast one citizen to save. + + + + + DRAMATIS PERSONAE. + + + REGULUS, _Mr. Henderson._ + PUBLIUS, his Son, _Mr. Dimond._ + MANLIUS, the Consul, _Mr. Blisset._ + LICINIUS, a Tribune, _Mr. Brown._ + HAMILCAR, the Carthaginian } _Mr. Rowbotham._ + Ambassador, } + + ATTILIA, daughter of Regulus, _Miss Mansell._ + BARCE, a Carthaginian captive, _Miss Wheeler._ + + Guards, Lictors, People, &c. + + SCENE--_Near the Gates of Rome._ + + + + + THE INFLEXIBLE CAPTIVE. + + + + + ACT I. + + + SCENE--_A Hall in the Consul's Palace._ + + _Enter_ LICINIUS, ATTILIA, _Lictors and People_. + + + _Lic._ Attilia waiting here? Is't possible? + Is this a place for Regulus's daughter? + Just gods! must that incomparable maid + Associate here with Lictors and Plebeians? + + _At._ Yes, on this threshold patiently I wait + The Consul's coming; I would make him blush + To see me here his suitor. O Licinius, + This is no time for form and cold decorum; + Five lagging years have crept their tedious round, + And Regulus, alas! is still a slave, + A wretched slave, unpitied, and forgotten; + No other tribute paid his memory, + Than the sad tears of his unhappy child; + If _she_ be silent, who will speak for Regulus? + + _Lic._ Let not her sorrows make my fair unjust. + Is there in Rome a heart so dead to virtue + That does not beat in Regulus's cause? + That wearies not the gods for his return? + That does not think all subjugated Afric + A slender, unimportant acquisition, + If, in return for this extended empire, + The freedom of thy father be the purchase? + These are the feelings of Imperial Rome; + My own, it were superfluous to declare. + For if _Licinius_ were to weigh his merit, + That he's _thy father_ were sufficient glory. + He was my leader, train'd me up to arms; + And if I boast a spark of Roman honour, + I owe it to _his_ precepts and _his_ virtues. + + _At._ And yet I have not seen Licinius stir. + + _Lic._ Ah! spare me thy reproaches--what, when late + A private citizen, could I attempt? + 'Twas not the lust of power, or pride of rank, + Which made me seek the dignity of tribune; + No, my Attilia, but I fondly hop'd + 'Twould strengthen and enforce the just request + Which as a _private_ man I vainly urg'd; + But now, the people's representative, + I shall _demand_, Attilia, to be heard. + + _At._ Ah! let us not too hastily apply + This dang'rous remedy; I would not rouse + Fresh tumults 'twixt the people and the senate: + Each views with jealousy the idol, Power, + Which, each possessing, would alike abuse. + What one demands the other still denies. + Might _I_ advise you, try a gentler method; + I know that every moment Rome expects + Th' ambassador of Carthage, nay, 'tis said + The Conscript Fathers are already met + To give him audience in Bellona's temple. + There might the Consul at my suit, Licinius, + Propose the ransom of my captive father. + + _Lic._ Ah! think, Attilia, who that Consul is, + Manlius, thy father's rival, and his foe: + His ancient rival, and his foe profess'd: + To hope in him, my fair, were fond delusion. + + _At._ Yet though his rival, Manlius is a _Roman_: + Nor will he think of private enmities, + Weigh'd in the balance with the good of Rome: + Let me at least make trial of his honour. + + _Lic._ Be it so, my fair! but elsewhere make thy suit; + Let not the Consul meet Attilia _here_, + Confounded with the refuse of the people. + + _At._ Yes, I will see him _here_, e'en _here_, Licinius. + Let _Manlius_ blush, not _me_: _here_ will I speak, + _Here_ shall he answer me. + + _Lic._ Behold he comes. + + _At._ Do thou retire. + + _Lic._ O bless me with a look, + One parting look at least. + + _At._ Know, my Licinius, + That at this moment I am all the _daughter_, + The filial feelings now possess my soul, + And other passions find no entrance there. + + _Lic._ O sweet, yet powerful influence of virtue, + That charms though cruel, though unkind subdues, + And what was love exalts to admiration! + Yes, 'tis the privilege of souls like thine + To conquer most when least they aim at conquest. + Yet, ah! vouchsafe to think upon Licinius, + Nor fear to rob thy father of his due; + For surely virtue and the gods approve + Unwearied constancy and spotless love. + [_Exit_ LICINIUS. + + _Enter_ MANLIUS. + + _At._ Ah! Manlius, stay, a moment stay, and hear me. + + _Man._ I did not think to meet thee here, Attilia; + The place so little worthy of the guest. + + _At._ It would, indeed, have ill become Attilia, + While still her father was a Roman citizen; + But for the daughter of a slave to Carthage, + It surely is most fitting. + + _Man._ Say, Attilia, + What is the purpose of thy coming hither! + + _At._ What is the purpose, patience, pitying heaven! + Tell me, how long, to Rome's eternal shame, + To fill with horror all the wond'ring world, + My father still must groan in Punic chains, + And waste the tedious hours in cruel bondage? + Days follow days, and years to years succeed, + And Rome forgets her hero, is content + That Regulus be a forgotten slave. + What is his crime? is it that he preferr'd + His country's profit to his children's good? + Is it th' unshaken firmness of his soul, + Just, uncorrupt, and, boasting, let me speak it, + Poor in the highest dignities of Rome? + O glorious poverty! illustrious crime! + + _Man._ But know, Attilia---- + + _At._ O have patience with me. + And can ungrateful _Rome_ so soon forget? + Can those who breathe the air _he_ breath'd forget + The great, the godlike virtues of my father? + There's not a part of Rome but speaks his praise. + The _streets_--through them the _hero_ pass'd triumphant: + The _Forum_--there the _Legislator_ plann'd + The wisest, purest laws:--_the Senate House_-- + There spoke the _patriot Roman_--there his voice + Secur'd the public safety: Manlius, yes; + The wisdom of his councils match'd his valour. + Enter the _Temples_--mount the _Capitol_-- + And tell me, Manlius, to what hand but _his_ + They owe their trophies, and their ornaments. + Their foreign banners, and their boasted ensigns, + Tarentine, Punic, and Sicilian spoils? + Nay, e'en those lictors who precede thy steps, + This Consul's purple which invests thy limbs, + All, all were Regulus's, were my father's. + And yet this hero, this exalted patriot, + This man of virtue, this immortal Roman, + In base requital for his services, + Is left to linger out a life in chains, + No honours paid him but a daughter's tears. + O Rome! O Regulus! O thankless citizens! + + _Man._ Just are thy tears:--thy father well deserves them; + But know thy censure is unjust, Attilia. + The fate of Regulus is felt by all: + We know and mourn the cruel woes he suffers + From barbarous Carthage. + + _At._ Manlius, you mistake; + Alas! it is not Carthage which is barbarous; + 'Tis Rome, ungrateful Rome, is the barbarian; + Carthage but punishes a foe profess'd, + But Rome betrays her hero and her father: + Carthage remembers how he slew her sons, + But Rome forgets the blood he shed for _her_: + Carthage revenges an acknowledged foe, + But Rome, with basest perfidy, rewards + The glorious hand that bound her brow with laurels. + Which now is the barbarian, Rome or Carthage? + + _Man._ What can be done? + + _At._ A woman shall inform you. + Convene the senate; let them strait propose + A ransom, or exchange for Regulus, + To Africa's ambassador. Do this, + And heaven's best blessings crown your days with peace. + + _Man._ Thou speakest like a _daughter_, I, Attilia, + Must as a _Consul_ act; I must consult + The good of Rome, and with her good, her glory. + Would it not tarnish her unspotted fame, + To sue to Carthage on the terms thou wishest? + + _At._ Ah! rather own thou'rt still my father's foe. + + _Man._ Ungen'rous maid! no fault of mine concurr'd + To his destruction. 'Twas the chance of war. + Farewell! ere this the senate is assembled---- + My presence is requir'd.----Speak to the fathers, + And try to soften _their_ austerity; + _My_ rigour they may render vain, for know, + I am Rome's _Consul_, not her _King_, Attilia. + [_Exit_ MANLIUS _with the lictors, &c._ + + _At._ (_alone._) + This flattering hope, alas! has prov'd abortive. + One Consul is our foe, the other absent. + What shall the sad Attilia next attempt? + Suppose I crave assistance from the people! + Ah! my unhappy father, on what hazards, + What strange vicissitudes, what various turns, + Thy life, thy liberty, thy all depends! + + _Enter_ BARCE (_in haste_). + + _Barce._ Ah, my Attilia! + + _At._ Whence this eager haste? + + _Barce._ Th' ambassador of Carthage is arriv'd. + + _At._ And why does _that_ excite such wondrous transport? + + _Barce._ I bring another cause of greater still. + + _At._ Name it, my Barce. + + _Barce._ _Regulus_ comes with him. + + _At._ My father! can it be? + + _Barce._ Thy father----Regulus. + + _At._ Thou art deceiv'd, or thou deceiv'st thy friend. + + _Barce._ Indeed I saw him not, but every tongue + Speaks the glad tidings. + + _Enter_ PUBLIUS. + + _At._ See where Publius comes. + + _Pub._ My sister, I'm transported! Oh, Attilia, + He's here, our father----Regulus is come! + + _At._ I thank you, gods: O my full heart! where is he? + Hasten, my brother, lead, O lead me to him. + + _Pub._ It is too soon: restrain thy fond impatience. + With Africa's ambassador he waits, + Until th' assembled senate give him audience. + + _At._ Where was he Publius when thou saw'st him first? + + _Pub._ You know, in quality of Roman quaestor, + My duty 'tis to find a fit abode + For all ambassadors of foreign states. + Hearing the Carthaginian was arriv'd, + I hasten'd to the port, when, O just gods! + No foreigner, no foe, no African + Salutes my eye, but Regulus----my father! + + _At._ Oh mighty joy! too exquisite delight! + What said the hero? tell me, tell me all, + And ease my anxious breast. + + _Pub._ Ere I arriv'd, + My father stood already on the shore, + Fixing his eyes with anxious eagerness, + As straining to descry the Capitol. + I saw, and flew with transport to embrace him, + Pronounc'd with wildest joy the name of father-- + With reverence seiz'd his venerable hand, + And would have kiss'd it; when the awful hero, + With that stern grandeur which made Carthage tremble, + Drew back--stood all collected in himself, + And said austerely, Know, thou rash young man, + That _slaves_ in _Rome_ have not the rights of _fathers_. + Then ask'd, if yet the senate was assembled, + And where? which having heard, without indulging + The fond effusions of his soul, or mine, + He suddenly retir'd. I flew with speed + To find the Consul, but as yet success + Attends not my pursuit. Direct me to him. + + _Barce._ Publius, you'll find him in Bellona's temple. + + _At._ Then Regulus returns to Rome a slave! + + _Pub._ Yes, but be comforted; I know he brings + Proposals for a peace; his will's his fate. + + _At._ Rome may, perhaps, refuse to treat of peace. + + _Pub._ Didst thou behold the universal joy + At his return, thou wouldst not doubt success. + There's not a tongue in Rome but, wild with transport, + Proclaims aloud that Regulus is come; + The streets are filled with thronging multitudes, + Pressing with eager gaze to catch a look. + The happy man who can descry him first, + Points him to his next neighbour, he to his; + Then what a thunder of applause goes round; + What music to the ear of filial love! + Attilia! not a Roman eye was seen, + But shed pure tears of exquisite delight. + Judge of my feelings by thy own, my sister. + By the large measure of thy fond affection, + Judge mine. + + _At._ Where is Licinius? find him out; + My joy is incomplete till he partakes it. + When doubts and fears have rent my anxious heart, + In all my woes he kindly bore a part: + Felt all my sorrows with a soul sincere, + Sigh'd as I sigh'd, and number'd tear for tear: + Now favouring heav'n my ardent vows has blest, + He shall divide the transports of my breast. + [_Exit_ ATTILIA. + + _Pub._ Barce, adieu! + + _Barce._ Publius, a moment hear me. + Know'st thou the name of Africa's ambassador? + + _Pub._ Hamilcar. + + _Barce._ Son of Hanno? + + _Pub._ Yes! the same. + + _Barce._ Ah me! Hamilcar!--How shall I support it! [_Aside._ + + _Pub._ Ah, charming maid! the blood forsakes thy cheek: + Is he the rival of thy Publius? speak, + And tell me all the rigour of my fate. + + _Barce._ Hear me, my Lord. Since I have been thy slave, + Thy goodness, and the friendship of Attilia, + Have soften'd all the horrors of my fate. + Till now I have not felt the weight of bondage. + Till now--ah, Publius!--think me not ungrateful, + I would not wrong thee--I will be sincere-- + I will expose the weakness of my soul. + Know then, my Lord--how shall I tell thee all? + + _Pub._ Stop, cruel maid, nor wound thy Publius more; + I dread the fatal frankness of thy words: + Spare me the pain of knowing I am scorn'd; + And if thy heart's devoted to another, + Yet do not tell it me; in tender pity + Do not, my fair, dissolve the fond illusion, + The dear delightful visions I have form'd + Of future joy, and fond exhaustless love. + [_Exit_ PUBLIUS. + + _Barce._ (_alone._) + And shall I see him then, see my Hamilcar, + Pride of my soul, and lord of all my wishes? + The only man in all our burning Afric + Who ever taught my bosom how to love! + Down, foolish heart! be calm, my busy thoughts! + If at his name I feel these strange emotions, + How shall I see, how meet my conqueror? + O let not those presume to judge of joy + Who ne'er have felt the pangs which absence gives. + Such tender transport those alone can prove, + Who long, like me, have known disastrous love; + The tears that fell, the sighs that once were paid, + Like grateful incense on his altar laid; + The lambent flame rekindle, not destroy, + And woes remember'd heighten present joy. [_Exit._ + + + + + ACT II. + + + SCENE--_The inside of the Temple of Bellona--Seats for the + Senators and Ambassadors--Lictors guarding the entrance._ + + MANLIUS, PUBLIUS, _and Senators_. + + + _Man._ Let Regulus be sent for to our presence; + And with him the ambassador of Carthage. + Is it then true the foe would treat of peace? + + _Pub._ They wish, at least, our captives were exchang'd, + And send my father to declare their wish: + If he obtain it, well: if not, then Regulus + Returns to meet the vengeance of the foe, + And pay for your refusal with his blood: + He ratified this treaty with his oath, + And ere he quitted Carthage, heard, unmov'd, + The dreadful preparations for his death, + Should he return. O, Romans! O, my countrymen! + Can you resign your hero to your foe? + Say, can you give up Regulus to Carthage? + + _Man._ Peace, Publius, peace, for see thy father comes. + + _Enter_ HAMILCAR _and_ REGULUS. + + _Ham._ Why dost thou stop? dost thou forget this temple? + I thought these walls had been well known to Regulus? + + _Reg._ Hamilcar! I was thinking what I was + When last I saw them, and what now I am. + + _Ham._ (_to the Consul._) + Carthage by me to Rome this greeting sends, + That wearied out at length with bloody war, + If Rome inclines to peace she offers it. + + _Man._ We will at leisure answer thee. Be seated. + Come, Regulus, resume thine ancient place. + + _Reg._ (_pointing to the Senators._) Who then are these? + + _Man._ The Senators of Rome. + + _Reg._ And who art thou? + + _Man._ What meanst thou? I'm her Consul; + Hast thou so soon forgotten Manlius? + + _Reg._ And shall a _slave_ then have a place in Rome + Among her Consuls and her Senators? + + _Man._ Yes!--For her _heroes_ Rome forgets her _laws_; + Softens their harsh austerity for thee, + To whom she owes her conquests and her triumphs. + + _Reg._ Rome may forget, but Regulus remembers. + + _Man._ Was ever man so obstinately good? [_Aside._ + + _Pub._ (_rising._) Fathers! your pardon. I can sit no longer. + [_To the Senators._ + + _Reg._ Publius, what dost thou mean? + + _Pub._ To do my duty: + Where Regulus must stand, shall Publius sit? + + _Reg._ Alas! O Rome, how are thy manners chang'd! + When last I left thee, ere I sail'd for Afric, + It was a crime to think of private duties + When public cares requir'd attention.----Sit, + (_To_ PUBLIUS.) And learn to occupy thy place with honour. + + _Pub._ Forgive me, sir, if I refuse obedience: + My heart o'erflows with duty to my father. + + _Reg._ Know, Publius, that duty's at an end; + Thy father died when he became a slave. + + _Man._ Now urge thy suit, Hamilcar, we attend. + + _Ham._ Afric hath chosen Regulus her messenger. + In him, both Carthage and Hamilcar speak. + + _Man._ (_to_ REGULUS.) We are prepar'd to hear thee. + + _Ham._ (_to_ REGULUS.) Ere thou speak'st, + Maturely weigh what thou hast sworn to do, + Should Rome refuse to treat with us of peace. + + _Reg._ What I have sworn I will fulfil, Hamilcar. + Be satisfied. + + _Pub._ Ye guardian gods of Rome, + With your own eloquence inspire him now! + + _Reg._ Carthage by me this embassy has sent: + If Rome will leave her undisturb'd possession + Of all she now enjoys, she offers _peace_; + But if you rather wish protracted war, + Her next proposal is, _exchange of captives_;---- + If you demand advice of _Regulus_, + Reject them both! + + _Ham._ What dost thou mean? + + _Pub._ My father! + + _Man._ Exalted fortitude! I'm lost in wonder. [_Aside._ + + _Reg._ Romans! I will not idly spend my breath, + To show the dire effects of such a peace; + The foes who beg it, show their dread of war. + + _Man._ But the exchange of prisoners thou proposest? + + _Reg._ That artful scheme conceals some Punic fraud. + + _Ham._ Roman, beware! hast thou so soon forgotten; + + _Reg._ I will fulfil the treaty I have sworn to. + + _Pub._ All will be ruin'd. + + _Reg._ Conscript Fathers! hear me.---- + Though this exchange teems with a thousand ills, + Yet 'tis th' example I would deprecate. + This treaty fix'd, Rome's honour is no more. + Should her degenerate sons be promis'd life, + Dishonest life, and worthless liberty, + Her glory, valour, military pride, + Her fame, her fortitude, her all were lost. + What honest captive of them all would wish + With shame to enter her imperial gates, + The flagrant scourge of slavery on his back? + None, none, my friends, would wish a fate so vile, + But those base cowards who resign'd their arms + Unstain'd with hostile blood, and poorly sued, + Through ignominious fear of death, for bondage; + The scorn, the laughter, of th' insulting foe. + O shame! shame! shame! eternal infamy! + + _Man._ However hurtful this _exchange_ may be, + The liberty, the life of Regulus, + More than compensates for it. + + _Reg._ Thou art mistaken.---- + This Regulus is a mere mortal man, + Yielding apace to all th' infirmities + Of weak, decaying nature.----I am old, + Nor can my future, feeble services + Assist my country much; but mark me well: + The young fierce heroes you'd restore to Carthage, + In lieu of this old man, are her chief bulwarks. + Fathers! in vig'rous youth this well-strung arm + Fought for my country, fought and conquer'd for her: + That was the time to prize its service high. + Now, weak and nerveless, let the foe possess it, + For it can harm them in the field no more. + Let Carthage have the poor degrading triumph + To close these failing eyes;--but, O my countrymen! + Check their vain hopes, and show aspiring Afric + That heroes are the common growth of Rome. + + _Man._ Unequall'd fortitude. + + _Pub._ O fatal virtue! + + _Ham._ What do I hear? this constancy confounds me. + + _Man._ (_to the Senators._) + Let honour be the spring of all our actions, + Not interest, Fathers. Let no selfish views + Preach safety at the price of truth and justice. + + _Reg._ If Rome would thank me, I will teach her how. + --Know, Fathers, that these savage Africans + Thought me so base, so very low of soul, + That the poor wretched privilege of breathing, + Would force me to betray my country to them. + Have these barbarians any tortures left + To match the cruelty of such a thought? + Revenge me, Fathers! and I'm still a Roman. + Arm, arm yourselves, prepare your citizens, + Snatch your imprison'd eagles from their fanes, + Fly to the shores of Carthage, force her gates, + Dye every Roman sword in Punic blood-- + And do such deeds--that when I shall return, + (As I have _sworn_, and am resolv'd to do,) + I may behold with joy, reflected back, + The terrors of your rage in the dire visages + Of my astonish'd executioners. + + _Ham._ Surprise has chill'd my blood! I'm lost in wonder! + + _Pub._ Does no one answer? must my father perish? + + _Man._ Romans, we must defer th' important question; + Maturest councils must determine on it. + Rest we awhile:----Nature requires some pause + From high-rais'd admiration. Thou, Hamilcar, + Shalt shortly know our final resolution. + Meantime, we go to supplicate the gods. + + _Reg._ Have you a doubt remaining? Manlius, speak. + + _Man._ Yes, Regulus, I think the danger less + To lose th' advantage thy advice suggests, + Than would accrue to Rome in losing thee, + Whose wisdom might direct, whose valour guard her. + Athirst for glory, thou wouldst rush on death, + And for thy country's sake wouldst greatly perish. + Too vast a sacrifice thy zeal requires, + For Rome must bleed when Regulus expires. + [_Exeunt Consul and Senators._ + + _Manent_ REGULUS, PUBLIUS, HAMILCAR; _to them + enter_ ATTILIA _and_ LICINIUS. + + _Ham._ Does Regulus fulfil his promise thus? + + _Reg._ I've promis'd to return, and I will do it. + + _At._ My father! think a moment. + + _Lic._ Ah! my friend! + + _Lic. and At._ O by this hand we beg---- + + _Reg._ Away! no more. + Thanks to Rome's guardian gods I'm yet a slave! + And will be still a slave to make Rome free! + + _At._ Was the exchange refus'd? Oh ease my fears. + + _Reg._ Publius! conduct Hamilcar and myself + To that abode thou hast for each provided. + + _At._ A foreign residence? a strange abode? + And will my father spurn his household gods? + + _Pub._ My sire a stranger?----Will he taste no more + The smiling blessings of his cheerful home? + + _Reg._ Dost thou not know the laws of Rome forbid + A foe's ambassador within her gates? + + _Pub._ This rigid law does not extend to thee. + + _Reg._ Yes; did it not alike extend to all, + 'Twere tyranny.--The law rights every man, + But favours none. + + _At._ Then, O my father, + Allow thy daughter to partake thy fate! + + _Reg._ Attilia! no. The present exigence + Demands far other thoughts, than the soft cares, + The fond effusions, the delightful weakness, + The dear affections 'twixt the child and parent. + + _At._ How is my father chang'd, from what I've known him! + + _Reg._ The fate of Regulus is chang'd, not Regulus. + I am the same; in laurels or in chains + 'Tis the same principle; the same fix'd soul, + Unmov'd itself, though circumstances change. + The native vigour of the free-born mind + Still struggles with, still conquers adverse fortune; + Soars above chains, invincible though vanquish'd. + [_Exeunt_ REGULUS _and_ PUBLIUS. + + ATTILIA, HAMILCAR _going; enter_ BARCE. + + _Barce._ Ah! my Hamilcar. + + _Ham._ Ah! my long-lost Barce: + Again I lose thee; Regulus rejects + Th' exchange of prisoners Africa proposes. + My heart's too full.--Oh, I have much to say! + + _Barce._ Yet you unkindly leave me, and say nothing. + + _Ham._ Ah! didst thou love as thy Hamilcar loves, + Words were superfluous; in my eyes, my Barce, + Thou'dst read the tender eloquence of love, + Th' uncounterfeited language of my heart. + A single look betrays the soul's soft feelings, + And shows imperfect speech of little worth. + [_Exit_ HAMILCAR. + + _At._ My father then conspires his own destruction, + Is it not so? + + _Barce._ Indeed I fear it much; + But as the senate has not yet resolv'd, + There is some room for hope: lose not a moment; + And, ere the Conscript Fathers are assembled, + Try all the powers of winning eloquence, + Each gentle art of feminine persuasion, + The love of kindred, and the faith of friends, + To bend the rigid Romans to thy purpose. + + _At._ Yes, Barce, I will go; I will exert + My little pow'r, though hopeless of success. + Undone Attilia! fall'n from hope's gay heights + Down the dread precipice of deep despair. + So some tir'd mariner the coast espies, + And his lov'd home explores with straining eyes; + Prepares with joy to quit the treacherous deep, + Hush'd every wave, and every wind asleep; + But ere he lands upon the well-known shore, + Wild storms arise, and furious billows roar, + Tear the fond wretch from all his hopes away, + And drive his shatter'd bark again to sea. + + + + + ACT III. + + + SCENE--_A Portico of a Palace without the gates of + Rome--The abode of the Carthaginian Ambassador_. + + _Enter_ REGULUS _and_ PUBLIUS _meeting_. + + + _Reg._ 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? + Dost thou know this and fondly linger here? + + _Pub._ They're not yet met, my father. + + _Reg._ Haste--away-- + Support my counsel in th' assembled Senate, + Confirm their wav'ring virtue by thy courage, + And Regulus shall glory in his boy. + + _Pub._ Ah! spare thy son the most ungrateful task. + What!--supplicate the ruin of my father? + + _Reg._ The good of Rome can never hurt her sons. + + _Pub._ In pity to thy children, spare thyself. + + _Reg._ Dost thou then think that mine's a frantic bravery? + That Regulus would 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 die, + Even to _think_ of freedom at th' expense + Of my dear bleeding country? To me, therefore, + Freedom and life would be the heaviest evils; + But to preserve that country, to restore her, + To heal her wounds though at the price of _life_, + Or what is dearer far, the price of liberty, + Is _virtue_--therefore slavery and death + Are Regulus's good--his wish--his choice. + + _Pub._ Yet sure our country---- + + _Reg._ Is a _whole_, my Publius, + Of which we all are _parts_; nor should a citizen + Regard his interests as distinct from hers; + No hopes or fears should touch his patriot soul, + But what affect her honour or her shame. + E'en 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 honours, dignity, and rank, + His wrongs revenges, and his merit pays; + And like a tender and indulgent mother, + Loads him with comforts, and would make his state + As blest 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 burden lose + Th' advantages it yields;--let him retire + From the dear blessings of a social life, + And from the sacred laws which guard those blessings; + Renounce the civilis'd abodes of man, + With kindred brutes one common 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: + While we, obedient to the laws that guard us, + Guard _them_, and live or die as they decree. + + _Pub._ 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. I'm a son. + + _Reg._ A poor excuse, unworthy of a Roman! + Brutus, Virginius, Manlius--they were fathers. + + _Pub._ 'Tis true, they were; but this heroic greatness, + This glorious elevation of the soul, + Has been confin'd to fathers.--Rome, till now, + Boasts not a son of such unnatural virtue, + Who, spurning all the powerful ties of blood, + Has labour'd to procure his father's death. + + _Reg._ Then be the first to give the great example-- + Go, hasten; be thyself that son, my Publius. + + _Pub._ My father! ah!-- + + _Reg._ Publius, no more; begone-- + Attend the Senate--let me know my fate; + 'Twill be more glorious if announc'd by thee. + + _Pub._ Too much, too much thy rigid virtue claims + From thy unhappy son. Oh, nature, nature! + + _Reg._ Publius! am I a stranger, or thy father? + In either case an obvious duty waits thee: + 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. + + _Pub._ Ah! couldst thou look into my inmost soul, + And see how warm it burns with love and duty, + Thou would'st abate the rigour of thy words. + + _Reg._ Could I explore the secrets of thy breast, + The virtue I would wish should flourish there + Were fortitude, not weak, complaining love. + + _Pub._ If thou requir'st my _blood_, I'll shed it all; + But when thou dost enjoin the harsher task + That I should labour to procure thy death, + Forgive thy son--he has not so much virtue. + [_Exit_ PUBLIUS. + + _Reg._ Th' important hour draws on, and now my soul + Loses her wonted calmness, lest the Senate + Should doubt what answer to return to Carthage. + O ye protecting deities of Rome! + Ye guardian gods! look down propitious on her, + Inspire her Senate with your sacred wisdom, + And call up all that's Roman in their souls! + + _Enter_ MANLIUS (_speaking_). + + See that the lictors wait, and guard the entrance-- + Take care that none intrude. + + _Reg._ Ah! Manlius here? + What can this mean? + + _Man._ Where, where is Regulus? + The great, the godlike, the invincible? + Oh, let me strain the hero to my breast.-- + + _Reg._ (_avoiding him._) + Manlius, stand off, remember I'm a slave! + And thou Rome's Consul. + + _Man._ 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 honours Rome can give without it. + + _Reg._ 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. + + _Man._ 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, my reverence; + Then Regulus appear'd a hero to me, + He rises now a god. + + _Reg._ Manlius, enough. + Cease thy applause; 'tis dang'rous; praise like 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! + + _Man._ 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. + + _Reg._ 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, + What would thy hatred be? Mistaken Consul! + Shall I then lose the profit of my wrongs? + Be thus defrauded of the benefit + I vainly hop'd from all my years of bondage? + I did not come to show my chains to Rome, + To move my country to a weak compassion; + I came to save her _honour_, to preserve her + From tarnishing her glory; came to snatch her + From offers so destructive to her fame. + O Manlius! either give me proofs more worthy + A Roman's friendship, or renew thy hate. + + _Man._ Dost thou not know, that this exchange refus'd, + Inevitable death must be thy fate? + + _Reg._ 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 tribute seiz'd, not offer'd. + Yes, Manlius, tell the world that as I liv'd + For Rome alone, when I could live no longer, + 'Twas my last care how, dying, to assist, + To save that country I had liv'd to serve. + + _Man._ O unexampled worth! O godlike Regulus! + Thrice happy Rome! unparalleled in heroes! + Hast thou then sworn, thou awfully good man, + Never to bless the Consul with thy friendship? + + _Reg._ 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, + Should 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. + + _Man._ (_after a pause._) Yes, I do promise. + + _Reg._ 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 honour! + + _Man._ Immortal Powers! why am not I a slave? + By heav'n! I almost envy thee thy bonds. + + _Reg._ 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 honour. + + _Man._ Illustrious man, farewell! + + _Reg._ Farewell, my friend! + + _Man._ The sacred flame thou hast kindled in my soul + Glows in each vein, trembles in every nerve, + And raises me to something more than man. + My blood is fir'd with virtue, and with Rome, + And every pulse beats an alarm to glory. + Who would not spurn a sceptre when compar'd + With chains like thine? Thou man of every virtus, + O, farewell! may all the gods protect and bless thee. + [_Exit_ MANLIUS. + + _Enter_ LICINIUS. + + _Reg._ Now I begin to live; propitious heaven + Inclines to favour me.----Licinius here? + + _Lic._ With joy, my honour'd friend, I seek thy presence. + + _Reg._ And why with joy? + + _Lic._ Because my heart once more + Beats high with flattering hope. In thy great cause + I have been labouring. + + _Reg._ Say'st thou in _my_ cause? + + _Lic._ In thine and Rome's. Does it excite thy wonder? + Couldst thou, then, think so poorly of Licinius, + That base ingratitude could find a place + Within his bosom?--Can I, then, forget + Thy thousand acts of friendship to my youth? + Forget them, too, at that important moment + When most I might assist thee?--Regulus, + Thou wast my leader, general, father--all. + Didst thou not teach me early how to tread + The path of glory; point the way thyself, + And bid me follow thee? + + _Reg._ But say, Licinius, + What hast thou done to serve me? + + _Lic._ I have defended + Thy liberty and life! + + _Reg._ Ah! speak--explain.-- + + _Lic._ 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 entreaty: then address'd myself + So well to each, that I from each obtain'd + A declaration, that his utmost power + Should be exerted for thy life and freedom. + + _Reg._ Great gods! what do I hear? Licinius, too? + + _Lic._ Not he alone; no, 'twere indeed unjust + To rob the fair Attilia of her claim + To filial merit.--What I could, I did. + But _she_--thy charming daughter--heav'n and earth, + What did she not to save her father? + + _Reg._ Who? + + _Lic._ 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, entreated, flatter'd, sooth'd. + + _Reg._ What said the Senators? + + _Lic._ 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. + + _At._ Once more, my dearest father---- + + _Reg._ Ah, presume not + To call me by that name. For know, Attilia, + I number _thee_ among the foes of Regulus. + + _At._ What do I hear? thy foe? my father's foe? + + _Reg._ His worst of foes--the murd'rer of his glory. + + _At._ 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? + + _Reg._ 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? + + _Lic._ For pity's sake, my Lord! + + _Reg._ 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! + + _At._ Because I _am_ a daughter, I presum'd---- + + _Lic._ Because I _am_ a Roman, I aspired + T' oppose th' inhuman rigour of thy fate. + + _Reg._ No more, Licinius. How can he be call'd + A Roman who would live in infamy? + Or how can she be Regulus's daughter + Whose coward mind wants fortitude and honour? + Unhappy children! now you make me _feel_ + The burden of my chains: your feeble souls + Have made me know I am indeed a slave. + [_Exit_ REGULUS. + + _At._ 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. + + _Lic._ Oh! 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 god-like 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. Though our love + Offend him now, yet, when his mighty soul + Is reconcil'd to life, he will not chide us. + The sick man loathes, and with reluctance takes + The remedy by which his health's restor'd. + + _At._ Licinius! his reproaches wound my soul. + I cannot live and bear his indignation. + + _Lic._ Would my Attilia rather lose her father + Than, by offending him, preserve his life? + + _At._ Ah! no. If he but live, I am contented. + + _Lic._ 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 sunshine of thy smiles. + [_Exit_ LICINIUS. + + _At._ (_alone_.) O Fortune, Fortune, thou capricious goddess! + Thy frowns and favours have alike no bounds: + Unjust, or prodigal in each extreme. + When thou wouldst humble human vanity, + By singling out a wretch to bear thy wrath, + Thou crushest him with anguish to excess: + If thou wouldst bless, thou mak'st the happiness + Too poignant for his giddy sense to bear.---- + Immortal gods, who rule the fates of men, + 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, + Oh! 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 withhold, or mercy give. + [_Exit_ ATTILIA. + + + + + ACT IV. + + SCENE--_A Gallery in the Ambassador's Palace._ + + + _Reg._ (_alone._) + Be calm, my soul! what strange emotions shake thee? + Emotions thou hast never felt till now. + Thou hast defied the dangers of the deep, + Th' impetuous hurricane, the thunder's roar, + And all the terrors of the various war; + Yet, now thou tremblest, now thou stand'st dismay'd, + With fearful expectation of thy fate.---- + Yes--thou hast amplest reason for thy fears; + For till this hour, so pregnant with events, + Thy fame and glory never were at stake. + Soft--let me think--what is this thing call'd _glory_? + 'Tis the soul's tyrant, that should be dethron'd, + And learn subjection like her other passions! + Ah! no! 'tis false: this is the coward's plea; + The lazy language of refining vice. + That man was born in vain, whose wish to serve + Is circumscrib'd within the wretched bounds + Of _self_--a narrow, miserable sphere! + Glory exalts, enlarges, dignifies, + Absorbs the selfish in the social claims, + And renders man a blessing to mankind.-- + It is this principle, this spark of deity, + Rescues debas'd humanity from guilt, + And elevates it by her strong excitements:-- + It takes off sensibility from pain, + From peril fear, plucks out the sting from death, + Changes ferocious into gentle manners, + And teaches men to imitate the gods. + It shows----but see, alas! where Publius comes. + Ah! he advances with a down-cast eye, + And step irresolute---- + + _Enter_ PUBLIUS. + + _Reg._ My Publius, welcome! + What tidings dost thou bring? what says the Senate? + Is yet my fate determin'd? quickly tell me.-- + + _Pub._ I cannot speak, and yet, alas! I must. + + _Reg._ Tell me the whole.-- + + _Pub._ Would I were rather dumb! + + _Reg._ Publius, no more delay:--I charge thee speak. + + _Pub._ The Senate has decreed thou shalt depart. + + _Reg._ Genius of Rome! thou hast at last prevail'd-- + I thank the gods, I have not liv'd in vain! + Where is Hamilcar?--find him--let us go, + For Regulus has nought to do in Rome; + I have accomplished her important work, + And must depart. + + _Pub._ Ah, my unhappy father! + + _Reg._ Unhappy, Publius! didst thou say unhappy? + Does he, does that bless'd man deserve this name, + Who to his latest breath can serve his country? + + _Pub._ Like thee, my father, I adore my country, + Yet weep with anguish o'er thy cruel chains. + + _Reg._ Dost thou not know that _life_'s a slavery? + The body is the chain that binds the soul; + A yoke that every mortal must endure. + Wouldst thou lament--lament the general fate, + The chain that nature gives, entail'd on all, + Not these _I_ wear? + + _Pub._ Forgive, forgive my sorrows: + I know, alas! too well, those fell barbarians + Intend thee instant death. + + _Reg._ So shall my life + And servitude together have an end.---- + Publius, farewell; nay, do not follow me.-- + + _Pub._ Alas! my father, if thou ever lov'dst me, + Refuse me not the mournful consolation + To pay the last sad offices of duty + I e'er can show thee.---- + + _Reg._ No!--thou canst fulfil + Thy duty to thy father in a way + More grateful to him: I must strait embark. + Be it meanwhile thy pious care to keep + My lov'd Attilia from a sight, I fear, + Would rend her gentle heart.--Her tears, my son, + Would dim the glories of thy father's triumph. + Her sinking spirits are subdu'd by grief. + And should her sorrows pass the bounds of reason, + Publius, have pity on her tender age, + Compassionate the weakness of her sex; + We must not hope to find in _her_ soft soul + The strong exertion of a manly courage.---- + Support her fainting spirit, and instruct her, + By thy example, how a Roman ought + To bear misfortune. Oh, indulge her weakness! + And be to her the father she will lose. + I leave my daughter to thee--I do more---- + I leave to thee the conduct of--thyself. + --Ah, Publius! I perceive thy courage fails-- + I see the quivering lip, the starting tear:-- + That lip, that tear calls down my mounting soul. + Resume thyself--Oh, do not blast my hope! + Yes--I'm compos'd--thou wilt not mock my age-- + Thou _art_--thou art a _Roman_--and my son. + [_Exit_. + + _Pub._ And is he gone?--now be thyself, my soul-- + Hard is the conflict, but the triumph glorious. + Yes.--I must conquer these too tender feelings; + The blood that fills these veins demands it of me; + My father's great example too requires it. + Forgive me _Rome_, and _glory_, if I yielded + To nature's strong attack:--I must subdue it. + Now, Regulus, I _feel_ I am thy _son_. + + _Enter_ ATTILIA _and_ BARCE. + + _At._ My brother, I'm distracted, wild with fear-- + Tell me, O tell me, what I dread to know-- + Is it then true?--I cannot speak--my father? + + _Barce._ May we believe the fatal news? + + _Pub._ Yes, Barce, + It is determin'd. Regulus must go. + + _At._ Immortal Powers!--What say'st thou? + + _Barce._ Can it be? + Thou canst not mean it. + + _At._ Then you've all betray'd me. + + _Pub._ Thy grief avails not. + + _Enter_ HAMILCAR _and_ LICINIUS. + + _Barce._ Pity us, Hamilcar! + + _At._ Oh, help, Licinius, help the lost Attilia! + + _Ham._ My Barce! there's no hope. + + _Lic._ Ah! my fair mourner, + All's lost. + + _At._ What all, Licinius? said'st thou all? + Not one poor glimpse of comfort left behind? + Tell me, at least, where Regulus is gone: + The daughter shall partake the father's chains, + And share the woes she knew not to prevent. [_Going._ + + _Pub._ What would thy wild despair? Attilia, stay, + Thou must not follow; this excess of grief + Would much offend him. + + _At._ Dost thou hope to stop me? + + _Pub._ I hope thou wilt resume thy better self, + And recollect thy father will not bear---- + + _At._ I only recollect I am a _daughter_, + A poor, defenceless, helpless, wretched daughter! + Away----and let me follow. + + _Pub._ No, my sister. + + _At._ Detain me not--Ah! while thou hold'st me here, + He goes, and I shall never see him more. + + _Barce._ My friend, be comforted, he cannot go + Whilst here Hamilcar stays. + + _At._ O Barce, Barce! + Who will advise, who comfort, who assist me? + Hamilcar, pity me.--Thou wilt not answer? + + _Ham._ Rage and astonishment divide my soul. + + _At._ Licinius, wilt thou not relieve my sorrows? + + _Lic._ Yes, at my life's expense, my heart's best treasure, + Wouldst thou instruct me how. + + _At._ My brother, too---- + Ah! look with mercy on thy sister's woes! + + _Pub._ I will at least instruct thee how to _bear_ them. + My sister--yield thee to thy adverse fate; + Think of thy father, think of Regulus; + Has he not taught thee how to brave misfortune? + 'Tis but by following his illustrious steps + Thou e'er canst merit to be call'd his daughter. + + _At._ And is it thus thou dost advise thy sister? + Are these, ye gods, the feelings of a son? + Indifference here becomes impiety-- + Thy savage heart ne'er felt the dear delights + Of filial tenderness--the thousand joys + That flow from blessing and from being bless'd! + No--didst thou love thy father as _I_ love him, + Our kindred souls would be in unison; + And all my sighs be echoed back by thine. + Thou wouldst--alas!--I know not what I say.-- + Forgive me, Publius,--but indeed, my brother, + I do not understand this cruel coldness. + + _Ham._ Thou may'st not--but I understand it well. + His mighty soul, full as to thee it seems + Of Rome, and glory--is enamour'd--caught-- + Enraptur'd with the beauties of fair Barce.-- + _She_ stays behind if Regulus _departs_. + Behold the cause of all the well-feign'd virtue + Of this mock patriot--curst dissimulation! + + _Pub._ And canst thou entertain such vile suspicions? + Gods! what an outrage to a son like me! + + _Ham._ Yes, Roman! now I see thee as thou art, + Thy naked soul divested of its veil, + Its specious colouring, its dissembled virtues: + Thou hast plotted with the Senate to prevent + Th' exchange of captives. All thy subtle arts, + Thy smooth inventions, have been set to work-- + The base refinements of your _polish'd_ land. + + _Pub._ In truth the doubt is worthy of an African. + [_Contemptuously._ + + _Ham._ I know.---- + + _Pub._ Peace, Carthaginian, peace, and hear me, + Dost thou not know, that on the very man + Thou hast insulted, Barce's fate depends? + + _Ham._ Too well I know, the cruel chance of war + Gave her, a blooming captive, to thy mother; + Who, dying, left the beauteous prize to thee. + + _Pub._ Now, see the use a _Roman_ makes of power. + Heav'n is my witness how I lov'd the maid! + Oh, she was dearer to my soul than light! + Dear as the vital stream that feeds my heart! + But know my _honour_'s dearer than my love. + I do not even hope _thou_ wilt believe me; + _Thy_ brutal soul, as savage as thy clime, + Can never taste those elegant delights, + Those pure refinements, love and glory yield. + 'Tis not to thee I stoop for vindication, + Alike to me thy friendship or thy hate; + But to remove from others a pretence + For branding Publius with the name of villain; + That _they_ may see no sentiment but honour + Informs this bosom--Barce, thou art _free_. + Thou hast my leave with him to quit this shore. + Now learn, barbarian, how a _Roman_ loves! [_Exit._ + + _Barce._ He cannot mean it! + + _Ham._ Oh, exalted virtue! + Which challenges esteem though from a foe. + [_Looking after_ PUBLIUS. + + _At._ Ah! cruel Publius, wilt thou leave me thus? + Thus leave thy sister? + + _Barce._ Didst thou hear, Hamilcar? + Oh, didst thou hear the god-like youth resign me? + + [HAMILCAR _and_ LICINIUS _seem lost in thought_. + + _Ham._ Farewell, I will return. + + _Lic._ Farewell, my love! [_To_ ATTILIA. + + _Barce._ Hamilcar, where---- + + _At._ Alas! where art thou going? + [_To_ LICINIUS. + + _Lic._ If possible, to save the life of Regulus. + + _At._ But by what means?--Ah! how canst thou effect it? + + _Lic._ Since the disease so desperate is become, + We must apply a desperate remedy. + + _Ham._ (_after a long pause._) + Yes--I will mortify this generous foe; + I'll be reveng'd upon this stubborn Roman; + Not by defiance bold, or feats of arms, + But by a means more sure to work its end; + By emulating his exalted worth, + And showing him a virtue like his own; + Such a refin'd revenge as noble minds + Alone can practise, and alone can feel. + + _At._ If thou wilt go, Licinius, let Attilia + At least go with thee. + + _Lic._ No, my gentle love, + Too much I prize thy safety and thy peace. + Let me entreat thee, stay with Barce here + Till our return. + + _At._ Then, ere ye go, in pity + Explain the latent purpose of your souls. + + _Lic._ Soon shalt thou know it all--Farewell! farewell! + Let us keep Regulus in _Rome_, or _die_. + [_To_ HAMILCAR _as he goes out_. + + _Ham._ Yes.--These smooth, polish'd Romans shall confess + The soil of _Afric_, too, produces heroes. + What, though our pride, perhaps, be less than theirs, + Our virtue may be equal: they shall own + The path of honour's not unknown to Carthage, + Nor, as they arrogantly think, confin'd + To their proud Capitol:----Yes--they shall learn + The gods look down on other climes than theirs. + [_Exit._ + + _At._ What gone, _both_ gone? What can I think or do? + Licinius leaves me, led by love and virtue, + To rouse the citizens to war and tumult, + Which may be fatal to himself and Rome, + And yet, alas! not serve my dearest father. + Protecting deities! preserve them both! + + _Barce._ Nor is thy Barce more at ease, my friend; + I dread the fierceness of Hamilcar's courage: + Rous'd by the grandeur of thy brother's deed, + And stung by his reproaches, his great soul + Will scorn to be outdone by him in glory. + Yet, let us rise to courage and to life, + Forget the weakness of our helpless sex, + And mount above these coward woman's fears. + Hope dawns upon my mind--my prospect clears, + And every cloud now brightens into day. + + _At._ How different are our souls! Thy sanguine temper, + Flush'd with the native vigour of thy soil, + Supports thy spirits; while the sad Attilia, + Sinking with more than all her sex's fears, + Sees not a beam of hope; or, if she sees it, + 'Tis not the bright, warm splendour of the sun; + It is a sickly and uncertain glimmer + Of instantaneous lightning passing by. + It shows, but not diminishes, the danger, + And leaves my poor benighted soul as dark + As it had never shone. + + _Barce._ Come, let us go. + Yes, joys unlook'd-for now shall gild thy days, + And brighter suns reflect propitious rays. [_Exeunt._ + + + SCENE--_A Hall looking towards the Garden._ + + _Enter_ REGULUS, _speaking to one of_ HAMILCAR'S _Attendants_. + + + Where's your Ambassador? where is Hamilcar? + Ere this he doubtless knows the Senate's will. + Go, seek him out--Tell him we must depart---- + Rome has no hope for him, or wish for me. + Longer delay were criminal in _both_. + + _Enter_ MANLIUS. + + _Reg._ He comes. The Consul comes! my noble friend! + O let me strain thee to this grateful heart, + And thank thee for the vast, vast debt I owe thee! + But for _thy_ friendship I had been a wretch---- + Had been compell'd to shameful _liberty_. + To thee I owe the glory of these chains, + My faith inviolate, my fame preserv'd, + My honour, virtue, glory, bondage,--all! + + _Man._ But we shall lose thee, so it is decreed---- + Thou must depart? + + _Reg._ Because I must depart + You will not lose me; I were lost, indeed, + Did I remain in Rome. + + _Man._ Ah! Regulus, + Why, why so late do I begin to love thee? + Alas! why have the adverse fates decreed + I ne'er must give thee other proofs of friendship, + Than those so fatal and so full of woe? + + _Reg._ Thou hast perform'd the duties of a friend; + Of a just, faithful, Roman, noble friend: + Yet, generous as thou art, if thou constrain me + To sink beneath a weight of obligation, + I could--yes, Manlius--I could ask still more. + + _Man._ Explain thyself. + + _Reg._ I think I have fulfill'd + The various duties of a citizen; + Nor have I aught beside to do for Rome. + Now, nothing for the public good remains! + Manlius, I recollect I am a father! + My Publius! my Attilia! ah! my friend, + They are--(forgive the weakness of a parent) + To my fond heart dear as the drops that warm it. + Next to my country they're my all of life; + And, if a weak old man be not deceiv'd, + They will not shame that country. Yes, my friend, + The love of virtue blazes in their souls. + As yet these tender plants are immature, + And ask the fostering hand of cultivation: + Heav'n, in its wisdom, would not let their _father_ + Accomplish this great work.--To thee, my friend, + The tender parent delegates the trust: + Do not refuse a poor man's legacy; + I do bequeath my orphans to thy love-- + If thou wilt kindly take them to thy bosom, + Their loss will be repaid with usury. + Oh, let the father owe his glory to thee, + The children their protection! + + _Man._ Regulus, + With grateful joy my heart accepts the trust: + Oh, I will shield, with jealous tenderness, + The precious blossoms from a blasting world. + In me thy children shall possess a father, + Though not as worthy, yet as fond as thee. + The pride be mine to fill their youthful breasts + With ev'ry virtue--'twill not cost me much: + I shall have nought to teach, nor they to learn, + But the great history of their god-like sire. + + _Reg._ I will not hurt the grandeur of thy virtue, + By paying thee so poor a thing as thanks. + Now all is over, and I bless the gods, + I've nothing more to do. + + _Enter_ PUBLIUS _in haste_. + + _Pub._ O Regulus! + + _Reg._ Say what has happened? + + _Pub._ Rome is in a tumult-- + There's scarce a citizen but runs to arms-- + They will not let thee go. + + _Reg._ Is't possible? + Can Rome so far forget her dignity + As to desire this infamous exchange? + I blush to think it! + + _Pub._ Ah! not so, my father. + Rome cares not for the peace, nor for th' exchange; + She only wills that Regulus shall stay. + + _Reg._ How, stay? my oath--my faith--my honour! ah! + Do they forget? + + _Pub._ No: every man exclaims + That neither faith nor honour should be kept + With Carthaginian perfidy and fraud. + + _Reg._ Gods! gods! on what vile principles they reason! + Can guilt in Carthage palliate guilt in Rome, + Or vice in one absolve it in another? + Ah! who hereafter shall be criminal, + If precedents are us'd to justify + The blackest crimes. + + _Pub._ Th' infatuated people + Have called the augurs to the sacred fane, + There to determine this momentous point. + + _Reg._ I have no need of _oracles_, my son; + _Honour's_ the oracle of honest men. + I gave my promise, which I will observe + With most religious strictness. Rome, 'tis true, + Had power to choose the peace, or change of slaves; + But whether Regulus return, or not, + Is _his_ concern, not the concern of _Rome_. + _That_ was a public, _this_ a private care. + Publius! thy father is not what he was; + _I_ am the slave of _Carthage_, nor has Rome + Power to dispose of captives not her own. + Guards! let us to the port.--Farewell, my friend. + + _Man._ Let me entreat thee stay; for shouldst thou go + To stem this tumult of the populace, + They will by force detain thee: then, alas! + Both Regulus and Rome must break their faith. + + _Reg._ What! must I then remain? + + _Man._ No, Regulus, + I will not check thy great career of glory: + Thou shalt depart; meanwhile, I'll try to calm + This wild tumultuous uproar of the people. + The consular authority shall still them. + + _Reg._ Thy virtue is my safeguard----but---- + + _Man._ Enough---- + _I_ know _thy_ honour, and trust thou to _mine_. + I am a _Roman_, and I feel some sparks + Of Regulus's virtue in my breast. + Though fate denies me thy illustrious chains, + I will at least endeavour to _deserve_ them. [_Exit._ + + _Reg._ How is my country alter'd! how, alas, + Is the great spirit of old Rome extinct! + _Restraint_ and _force_ must now be put to use + To _make_ her virtuous. She must be _compell'd_ + To faith and honour.--Ah! what, Publius here? + And dost thou leave so tamely to my friend + The honour to assist me? Go, my boy, + 'Twill make me _more_ in love with chains and death, + To owe them to a _son_. + + _Pub._ I go, my father-- + I will, I will obey thee. + + _Reg._ Do not sigh---- + One sigh will check the progress of thy glory. + + _Pub._ Yes, I will own the pangs of death itself + Would be less cruel than these agonies: + Yet do not frown austerely on thy son: + His anguish is his virtue: if to conquer + The feelings of my soul were easy to me, + 'Twould be no merit. Do not then defraud + The sacrifice I make thee of its worth. + [_Exeunt severally._ + + + MANLIUS, ATTILIA. + + _At._ (_speaking as she enters._) + Where is the Consul?--Where, oh, where is Manlius? + I come to breathe the voice of mourning to him, + I come to crave his mercy, to conjure him + To whisper peace to my afflicted bosom, + And heal the anguish of a wounded spirit. + + _Man._ What would the daughter of my noble friend? + + _At._ (_kneeling._) + If ever pity's sweet emotions touch'd thee,-- + If ever gentle love assail'd thy breast,-- + If ever virtuous friendship fir'd thy soul-- + By the dear names of husband and of parent-- + By all the soft, yet powerful ties of nature-- + If e'er thy lisping infants charm'd thine ear, + And waken'd all the father in thy soul,-- + If e'er thou hop'st to have thy latter days + Blest by their love, and sweeten'd by their duty-- + Oh, hear a kneeling, weeping, wretched daughter, + Who begs a father's life!--nor hers alone, + But Rome's--his country's father. + + _Man._ Gentle maid! + Oh, spare this soft, subduing eloquence!-- + Nay, rise. I shall forget I am a Roman-- + Forget the mighty debt I owe my country-- + Forget the fame and glory of thy father. + I must conceal this weakness. [_Turns from her._ + + _At._ (_rises eagerly._) Ah! you weep! + Indulge, indulge, my Lord, the virtuous softness: + Was ever sight so graceful, so becoming, + As pity's tear upon the hero's cheek? + + _Man._ No more--I must not hear thee. [_Going._ + + _At._ How! not, not hear me! + You must--you shall--nay, nay return, my Lord-- + Oh, fly not from me!----look upon my woes, + And imitate the mercy of the gods: + 'Tis not their thunder that excites our reverence, + 'Tis their mild mercy, and forgiving love. + 'Twill add a brighter lustre to thy laurels, + When men shall say, and proudly point thee out, + "Behold the Consul!--He who sav'd his friend." + Oh, what a tide of joy will overwhelm thee! + Who will not envy thee thy glorious feelings? + + _Man._ Thy father scorns his liberty and life, + Nor will accept of either at the expense + Of honour, virtue, glory, faith, and Rome. + + _At._ Think you behold the god-like Regulus + The prey of unrelenting savage foes, + Ingenious only in contriving ill:---- + Eager to glut their hunger of revenge, + They'll plot such new, such dire, unheard-of tortures-- + Such dreadful, and such complicated vengeance, + As e'en the Punic annals have not known; + And, as they heap fresh torments on his head, + They'll glory in their genius for destruction. + --Ah! Manlius--now methinks I see my father-- + My faithful fancy, full of his idea, + Presents him to me--mangled, gash'd, and torn-- + Stretch'd on the rack in writhing agony-- + The torturing pincers tear his quivering flesh, + While the dire murderers smile upon his wounds, + His groans their music, and his pangs their sport. + And if they lend some interval of ease, + Some dear-bought intermission, meant to make + The following pang more exquisitely felt, + Th' insulting executioners exclaim, + --"Now, Roman! feel the vengeance thou hast scorn'd." + + _Man._ Repress thy sorrows---- + + _At._ Can the friend of Regulus + Advise his daughter not to mourn his fate? + How cold, alas! is friendship when compar'd + To ties of blood--to nature's powerful impulse! + Yes--she asserts her empire in my soul, + 'Tis Nature pleads--she will--she must be heard; + With warm, resistless eloquence she pleads.-- + Ah, thou art soften'd!--see--the Consul yields-- + The feelings triumph--tenderness prevails-- + The Roman is subdued--the daughter conquers! + [_Catching hold of his robe._ + + _Man._ Ah, hold me not!--I must not, cannot stay, + The softness of thy sorrow is contagious; + I, too, may feel when I should only reason. + I dare not hear thee--Regulus and Rome, + The patriot and the friend--all, all forbid it. + [_Breaks from her, and exit._ + + _At._ O feeble grasp!--and is he gone, quite gone? + Hold, hold thy empire, Reason, firmly hold it, + Or rather quit at once thy feeble throne, + Since thou but serv'st to show me what I've lost, + To heighten all the horrors that await me; + To summon up a wild distracted crowd + Of fatal images, to shake my soul, + To scare sweet peace, and banish hope itself. + Farewell! delusive dreams of joy, farewell! + Come, fell Despair! thou pale-ey'd spectre, come, + For thou shalt be Attilia's inmate now, + And thou shalt grow, and twine about her heart, + And she shall be so much enamour'd of thee, + The pageant Pleasure ne'er shall interpose + Her gaudy presence to divide you more. + [_Stands in an attitude of silent grief._ + + + _Enter_ LICINIUS. + + _Lic._ At length I've found thee--ah, my charming maid! + How have I sought thee out with anxious fondness! + Alas! she hears me not.----My best Attilia! + Ah! grief oppresses every gentle sense. + Still, still she hears not----'tis Licinius speaks, + He comes to soothe the anguish of thy spirit, + And hush thy tender sorrows into peace. + + _At._ Who's he that dares assume the voice of love, + And comes unbidden to these dreary haunts? + Steals on the sacred treasury of woe, + And breaks the league Despair and I have made? + + _Lic._ 'Tis one who comes the messenger of heav'n, + To talk of peace, of comfort, and of joy. + + _At._ Didst thou not mock me with the sound of joy? + Thou little know'st the anguish of my soul, + If thou believ'st I ever can again, + So long the wretched sport of angry Fortune, + Admit delusive hope to my sad bosom. + No----I abjure the flatterer and her train. + Let those, who ne'er have been like me deceiv'd, + Embrace the fair fantastic sycophant-- + For I, alas! am wedded to despair, + And will not hear the sound of comfort more. + + _Lic._ Cease, cease, my love, this tender voice of woe, + Though softer than the dying cygnet's plaint: + She ever chants her most melodious strain + When death and sorrow harmonise her note. + + _At._ Yes--I will listen now with fond delight; + For death and sorrow are my darling themes. + Well!--what hast thou to say of death and sorrow? + Believe me, thou wilt find me apt to listen, + And, if my tongue be slow to answer thee, + Instead of words I'll give thee sighs and tears. + + _Lic._ I come to dry thy tears, not make them flow; + The gods once more propitious smile upon us, + Joy shall again await each happy morn, + And ever-new delight shall crown the day! + Yes, Regulus shall live.---- + + _At._ Ah me! what say'st thou? + Alas! I'm but a poor, weak, trembling woman-- + I cannot bear these wild extremes of fate-- + Then mock me not.--I think thou art Licinius, + The generous lover, and the faithful friend! + I think thou wouldst not sport with my afflictions. + + _Lic._ Mock thy afflictions?--May eternal Jove, + And every power at whose dread shrine we worship, + Blast all the hopes my fond ideas form, + If I deceive thee! Regulus shall live, + Shall live to give thee to Licinius' arms. + Oh! we will smooth his downward path of life, + And after a long length of virtuous years, + At the last verge of honourable age, + When nature's glimmering lamp goes gently out, + We'll close, together close his eyes in peace-- + Together drop the sweetly-painful tear-- + Then copy out his virtues in our lives. + + _At._ And shall we be so blest? is't possible? + Forgive me, my Licinius, if I doubt thee. + Fate never gave such exquisite delight + As flattering hope hath imag'd to thy soul. + But how?----Explain this bounty of the gods. + + _Lic._ Thou know'st what influence the name of Tribune + Gives its possessor o'er the people's minds: + That power I have exerted, nor in vain; + All are prepar'd to second my designs: + The plot is ripe,--there's not a man but swears + To keep thy god-like father here in Rome---- + To save his life at hazard of his own. + + _At._ By what gradation does my joy ascend! + I thought that if my father had been sav'd + By any means, I had been rich in bliss: + But that he lives, and lives preserv'd by thee, + Is such a prodigality of fate, + I cannot bear my joy with moderation: + Heav'n should have dealt it with a scantier hand, + And not have shower'd such plenteous blessings on me; + They are too great, too flattering to be real; + 'Tis some delightful vision, which enchants, + And cheats my senses, weaken'd by misfortune. + + _Lic._ We'll seek thy father, and meanwhile, my fair, + Compose thy sweet emotions ere thou see'st him, + Pleasure itself is painful in excess; + For joys, like sorrows, in extreme, oppress: + The gods themselves our pious cares approve, + And to reward our virtue crown our love. + + + + + ACT V. + + + _An Apartment in the Ambassador's Palace--Guards + and other Attendants seen at a distance._ + + + _Ham._ Where is this wondrous man, this matchless hero, + This arbiter of kingdoms and of kings, + This delegate of heav'n, this Roman god? + I long to show his soaring mind an equal, + And bring it to the standard of humanity. + What pride, what glory will it be to fix + An obligation on his stubborn soul! + Oh! to constrain a foe to be obliged! + The very thought exalts me e'en to rapture. + + _Enter_ REGULUS _and Guards_. + + _Ham._ Well, Regulus!--At last-- + + _Reg._ I know it all; + I know the motive of thy just complaint-- + Be not alarm'd at this licentious uproar + Of the mad populace. I will depart-- + Fear not--I will not stay in Rome alive. + + _Ham._ What dost thou mean by uproar and alarms? + Hamilcar does not come to vent complaints; + He rather comes to prove that Afric, too, + Produces heroes, and that Tiber's banks + May find a rival on the Punic coast. + + _Reg._ Be it so.--'Tis not a time for vain debate: + Collect thy people.--Let us strait depart. + + _Ham._ Lend me thy hearing, first. + + _Reg._ O patience, patience! + + _Ham._ Is it esteem'd a glory to be grateful? + + _Reg._ The time has been when 'twas a duty only, + But 'tis a duty now so little practis'd, + That to perform it is become a glory. + + _Ham._ If to fulfil it should expose to danger?---- + + _Reg._ It rises then to an illustrious virtue. + + _Ham._ Then grant this merit to an African. + Give me a patient hearing----Thy great son, + As delicate in honour as in love, + Hath nobly given my Barce to my arms; + And yet I know he doats upon the maid. + I come to emulate the generous deed; + He gave me back my love, and in return + I will restore his father. + + _Reg._ Ah! what say'st thou? + Wilt thou preserve me then? + + _Ham._ I will. + + _Reg._ But how? + + _Ham._ By leaving thee at liberty to _fly_. + + _Reg._ Ah! + + _Ham._ I will dismiss my guards on some pretence, + Meanwhile do thou escape, and lie conceal'd: + I will affect a rage I shall not feel, + Unmoor my ships, and sail for Africa. + + _Reg._ Abhorr'd barbarian! + + _Ham._ Well, what dost thou say? + Art thou not much surpris'd? + + _Reg._ I am, indeed. + + _Ham._ Thou could'st not then have hop'd it? + + _Reg._ No! I could not. + + _Ham._ And yet I'm not a Roman. + + _Reg._ (_smiling contemptuously._) I perceive it. + + _Ham._ You may retire (_aloud to the guards_). + + _Reg._ No!--Stay, I charge you stay. + + _Ham._ And wherefore stay? + + _Reg._ I thank thee for thy offer, + But I shall go with thee. + + _Ham._ 'Tis well, proud man! + Thou dost despise me, then? + + _Reg._ No--but I pity thee. + + _Ham._ Why pity me? + + _Reg._ Because thy poor dark soul + Hath never felt the piercing ray of virtue. + Know, African! the scheme thou dost propose + Would injure me, thy country, and thyself. + + _Ham._ Thou dost mistake. + + _Reg._ Who was it gave thee power + To rule the destiny of Regulus? + Am I a slave to Carthage, or to thee? + + _Ham._ What does it signify from whom, proud Roman! + Thou dost receive this benefit? + + _Reg._ A benefit? + O savage ignorance! is it a benefit + To lie, elope, deceive, and be a villain? + + _Ham._ What! not when life itself, when all's at stake? + Know'st thou my countrymen prepare thee tortures + That shock imagination but to think of? + Thou wilt be mangled, butcher'd, rack'd, impal'd. + Does not thy nature shrink? + + _Reg._ (_smiling at his threats._) Hamilcar! no. + Dost thou not know the Roman genius better? + We live on honour--'tis our food, our life. + The motive, and the measure of our deeds! + We look on death as on a common object; + The tongue nor faulters, nor the cheek turns pale, + Nor the calm eye is mov'd at sight of him: + We court, and we embrace him undismay'd; + We smile at tortures if they lead to glory, + And only cowardice and guilt appal us. + + _Ham._ Fine sophistry! the valour of the tongue, + The heart disclaims it; leave this pomp of words, + And cease dissembling with a friend like me. + I know that life is dear to all who live, + That death is dreadful,--yes, and must be fear'd, + E'en by the frozen apathists of Rome. + + _Reg._ Did I fear death when on Bagrada's banks + I fac'd and slew the formidable serpent + That made your boldest Africans recoil, + And shrink with horror, though the monster liv'd + A native inmate of their own parch'd deserts? + Did I fear death before the gates of Adis?-- + Ask Bostar, or let Asdrubal confess. + + _Ham._ Or shall I rather of Xantippus ask, + Who dar'd to undeceive deluded Rome, + And prove this vaunter not invincible? + 'Tis even said, in Africa I mean, + He made a prisoner of this demigod.-- + Did we not triumph then? + + _Reg._ Vain boaster! no. + No Carthaginian conquer'd Regulus; + Xantippus was a Greek--a brave one too: + Yet what distinction did your Afric make + Between the man who serv'd her, and her foe: + I was the object of her open hate; + He, of her secret, dark malignity. + He durst not trust the nation he had sav'd; + He knew, and therefore fear'd you.--Yes, he knew + Where once you were oblig'd you ne'er forgave. + Could you forgive at all, you'd rather pardon + The man who hated, than the man who serv'd you. + Xantippus found his ruin ere it reach'd him, + Lurking behind your honours and rewards; + Found it in your feign'd courtesies and fawnings. + When vice intends to strike a master stroke, + Its veil is smiles, its language protestations. + The Spartan's merit threaten'd, but his service + Compell'd his ruin.--Both you could not pardon. + + _Ham._ Come, come, I know full well---- + + _Reg._ Barbarian! peace. + I've heard too much.--Go, call thy followers: + Prepare thy ships, and learn to do thy duty. + + _Ham._ Yes!--show thyself intrepid, and insult me; + Call mine the blindness of barbarian friendship. + On Tiber's banks I hear thee, and am calm: + But know, thou scornful Roman! that too soon + In Carthage thou may'st fear and feel my vengeance: + Thy cold, obdurate pride shall there confess, + Though Rome may talk--'tis Africa can punish. + [_Exit._ + + _Reg._ Farewell! I've not a thought to waste on thee. + Where is the Consul? why does Publius stay? + Alas! I fear--but see Attilia comes!-- + + _Enter_ ATTILIA. + + _Reg._ What brings thee here, my child? what eager joy + Transports thee thus? + + _At._ I cannot speak--my father! + Joy chokes my utterance--Rome, dear grateful Rome, + (Oh, may her cup with blessings overflow!) + Gives up our common destiny to thee; + Faithful and constant to th' advice thou gav'st her, + She will not hear of peace, or change of slaves, + But she insists--reward and bless her, gods!-- + That thou shalt here remain. + + _Reg._ What! with the shame---- + + _At._ Oh! no--the sacred senate hath consider'd + That when to Carthage thou did'st pledge thy faith, + Thou wast a captive, and that being such, + Thou could'st not bind thyself in covenant. + + _Reg._ He who can die, is always free, my child! + Learn farther, he who owns another's strength + Confesses his own weakness.--Let them know, + I swore I would return because I chose it, + And will return, because I swore to do it. + + _Enter_ PUBLIUS. + + _Pub._ Vain is that hope, my father. + + _Reg._ Who shall stop me? + + _Pub._ All Rome.----The citizens are up in arms: + In vain would reason stop the growing torrent; + In vain wouldst thou attempt to reach the port, + The way is barr'd by thronging multitudes: + The other streets of Rome are all deserted. + + _Reg._ Where, where is Manlius? + + _Pub._ He is still thy friend: + His single voice opposes a whole people; + He threats this moment and the next entreats, + But all in vain; none hear him, none obey. + The general fury rises e'en to madness. + The axes tremble in the lictors' hands, + Who, pale and spiritless, want power to use them-- + And one wild scene of anarchy prevails. + + _Reg._ Farewell! my daughter. Publius, follow me. + [_Exit_ PUBLIUS. + + _At._ Ah! where? I tremble---- + [_Detaining_ REGULUS. + + _Reg._ To assist my friend-- + T' upbraid my hapless country with her crime-- + To keep unstain'd the glory of these chains-- + To go, or perish. + + _At._ Oh! have mercy! + + _Reg._ Hold; + I have been patient with thee; have indulg'd + Too much the fond affections of thy soul; + It is enough; thy grief would now offend + Thy father's honour; do not let thy tears + Conspire with Rome to rob me of my triumph. + + _At._ Alas! it wounds my soul. + + _Reg._ I know it does. + I know 'twill grieve thy gentle heart to lose me; + But think, thou mak'st the sacrifice to Rome, + And all is well again. + + _At._ Alas! my father, + In aught beside---- + + _Reg._ What wouldst thou do, my child? + Canst thou direct the destiny of Rome, + And boldly plead amid the assembled senate? + Canst thou, forgetting all thy sex's softness, + Fiercely engage in hardy deeds of arms? + Canst thou encounter labour, toil and famine, + Fatigue and hardships, watchings, cold and heat? + Canst thou attempt to serve thy country thus? + Thou canst not:--but thou may'st sustain my loss + Without these agonising pains of grief, + And set a bright example of submission, + Worthy a Roman's daughter. + + _At._ Yet such fortitude-- + + _Reg._ Is a most painful virtue;--but Attilia + Is Regulus's daughter, and must have it. + + _At._ I will entreat the gods to give it me. + Ah! thou art offended! I have lost thy love. + + _Reg._ Is this concern a mark that thou hast lost it? + I cannot, cannot spurn my weeping child. + Receive this proof of my paternal fondness;-- + Thou lov'st Licinius--he too loves my daughter. + I give thee to his wishes; I do more-- + I give thee to his virtues.--Yes, Attilia, + The noble youth deserves this dearest pledge + Thy father's friendship ever can bestow. + + _At._ My lord! my father! wilt thou, canst thou leave me? + The tender father will not quit his child! + + _Reg._ I am, I am thy father! as a proof, + I leave thee my example how to suffer. + My child! I have a heart within this bosom; + That heart has passions--see in what we differ; + Passion--which is thy tyrant--is my slave. + + _At._ Ah! stay my father. Ah!-- + + _Reg._ Farewell! farewell! + [_Exit._ + + _At._ Yes, Regulus! I feel thy spirit here, + Thy mighty spirit struggling in this breast, + And it shall conquer all these coward feelings, + It shall subdue the woman in my soul; + A Roman virgin should be something more-- + Should dare above her sex's narrow limits-- + And I will dare--and mis'ry shall assist me-- + My father! I will be indeed thy daughter! + The hero shall no more disdain his child; + Attilia shall not be the only branch + That yields dishonour to the parent tree. + + _Enter_ BARCE. + + _Barce._ Attilia! is it true that Regulus, + In spite of senate, people, augurs, friends, + And children, will depart? + + _At._ Yes, it is true. + + _Barce._ Oh! what romantic madness! + + _At._ You forget-- + Barce! the deeds of heroes claim respect. + + _Barce._ Dost thou approve a virtue which must lead + To chains, to tortures, and to certain death? + + _At._ Barce! those chains, those tortures, and that death, + Will be his triumph. + + _Barce._ Thou art pleas'd, Attilia: + By heav'n thou dost exult in his destruction! + + _At._ Ah! pitying powers. [_Weeps._ + + _Barce._ I do not comprehend thee. + + _At._ No, Barce, I believe it.--Why, how shouldst thou? + If I mistake not, thou wast born in Carthage, + In a barbarian land, where never child + Was taught to triumph in a father's chains. + + _Barce._ Yet thou dost weep--thy tears at least are honest, + For they refuse to share thy tongue's deceit; + They speak the genuine language of affliction, + And tell the sorrows that oppress thy soul. + + _At._ Grief, that dissolves in tears, relieves the heart. + When congregated vapours melt in rain, + The sky is calm'd, and all's serene again. [_Exit._ + + _Barce._ Why, what a strange, fantastic land is this! + This love of glory's the disease of Rome; + It makes her mad, it is a wild delirium, + An universal and contagious frenzy; + It preys on all, it spares nor sex nor age: + The Consul envies Regulus his chains-- + He, not less mad, contemns his life and freedom-- + The daughter glories in the father's ruin-- + And Publius, more distracted than the rest, + Resigns the object that his soul adores, + For this vain phantom, for this empty glory. + This may be virtue; but I thank the gods, + The soul of Barce's not a Roman soul. [_Exit._ + + + _Scene within sight of the Tiber--Ships ready for the embarkation + of Regulus and the Ambassador--Tribune and People stopping up the + passage--Consul and Lictors endeavouring to clear it._ + + MANLIUS _and_ LICINIUS _advance_. + + _Lic._ Rome will not suffer Regulus to go. + + _Man._ I thought the Consul and the Senators + Had been a part of Rome. + + _Lic._ I grant they are-- + But still the people are the greater part. + + _Man._ The greater, not the wiser. + + _Lic._ The less cruel.---- + Full of esteem and gratitude to Regulus, + We would preserve his life. + + _Man._ And we his honour. + + _Lic._ His honour!---- + + _Man._ Yes. Time presses. Words are vain. + Make way there--clear the passage. + + _Lic._ On your lives, + Stir not a man. + + _Man._ I do command you, go. + + _Lic._ And I forbid it. + + _Man._ Clear the way, my friends. + How dares Licinius thus oppose the Consul? + + _Lic._ How dar'st thou, Manlius, thus oppose the Tribune? + + _Man._ I'll show thee what I dare, imprudent boy!-- + Lictors, force through the passage. + + _Lic._ Romans, guard it. + + _Man._ Gods! is my power resisted then with arms? + Thou dost affront the Majesty of Rome. + + _Lic._ The Majesty of Rome is in the people; + Thou dost insult it by opposing them. + + _People._ Let noble Regulus remain in Rome. + + _Man._ My friends, let me explain this treacherous scheme. + + _People._ We will not hear thee----Regulus shall stay. + + _Man._ What! none obey me? + + _People._ Regulus shall stay. + + _Man._ Romans, attend.---- + + _People._ Let Regulus remain. + + _Enter_ REGULUS, _followed by_ PUBLIUS, ATTILIA, + HAMILCAR, BARCE, _&c._ + + _Reg._ Let Regulus remain! What do I hear? + Is't possible the wish should come from you? + Can Romans give, or Regulus accept, + A life of infamy? Is't possible? + Where is the ancient virtue of my country? + Rise, rise, ye mighty spirits of old Rome! + I do invoke you from your silent tombs; + Fabricius, Cocles, and Camillus, rise, + And show your sons what their great fathers were. + My countrymen, what crime have I committed? + Alas! how has the wretched Regulus + Deserv'd your hatred? + + _Lic._ Hatred? ah! my friend, + It is our love would break these cruel chains. + + _Reg._ If you deprive me of my chains, I'm nothing; + They are my honours, riches, titles,--all! + They'll shame my enemies, and grace my country; + They'll waft her glory to remotest climes, + Beyond her provinces and conquer'd realms, + Where yet her conq'ring eagles never flew; + Nor shall she blush hereafter if she find + Recorded with her faithful citizens + The name of Regulus, the captive Regulus. + My countrymen! what, think you, kept in awe + The Volsci, Sabines, AEqui, and Hernici? + The arms of Rome alone? no, 'twas her virtue; + That sole surviving good, which brave men keep + Though fate and warring worlds combine against them: + This still is mine--and I'll preserve it, Romans! + The wealth of Plutus shall not bribe it from me! + If you, alas! require this sacrifice, + Carthage herself was less my foe than Rome; + She took my freedom--she could take no more; + But Rome, to crown her work, would take my honour. + My friends! if you deprive me of my chains, + I am no more than any other slave: + Yes, Regulus becomes a common captive, + A wretched, lying, perjur'd fugitive! + But if, to grace my bonds, you leave my honour, + I shall be still a Roman, though a slave. + + _Lic._ What faith should be observ'd with savages? + What promise should be kept which bonds extort? + + _Reg._ Unworthy subterfuge! ah! let us leave + To the wild Arab and the faithless Moor + These wretched maxims of deceit and fraud: + Examples ne'er can justify the coward: + The brave man never seeks a vindication, + Save from his own just bosom and the gods; + From principle, not precedent, he acts: + As that arraigns him, or as that acquits, + He stands or falls; condemn'd or justified. + + _Lic._ Rome is no more if Regulus departs. + + _Reg._ Let Rome remember Regulus must die! + Nor would the moment of my death be distant, + If nature's work had been reserv'd for nature: + What Carthage means to do, _she_ would have done + As speedily, perhaps, at least as surely. + My wearied life has almost reach'd its goal; + The once-warm current stagnates in these veins, + Or through its icy channels slowly creeps---- + View the weak arm; mark the pale furrow'd cheek, + The slacken'd sinew, and the dim sunk eye, + And tell me then I must not think of dying! + How can I serve you else? My feeble limbs + Would totter now beneath the armour's weight, + The burden of that body it once shielded. + You see, my friends, you see, my countrymen, + I can no longer show myself a Roman, + Except by dying like one.----Gracious Heaven + Points out a way to crown my days with glory; + Oh, do not frustrate, then, the will of Jove, + And close a life of virtue with disgrace! + Come, come, I know my noble Romans better; + I see your souls, I read repentance in them; + You all applaud me--nay, you wish my chains: + 'Twas nothing but excess of love misled you, + And as you're Romans you will conquer that. + Yes!--I perceive your weakness is subdu'd-- + Seize, seize the moment of returning virtue; + Throw to the ground, my sons, those hostile arms; + no longer Regulus's triumph; + I do request it of you, as a friend, + I call you to your duty, as a patriot, + And--were I still your gen'ral, I'd command you. + + _Lic._ Lay down your arms--let Regulus depart. + + [_To the People, who clear the way, and quit their arms._ + + _Reg._ Gods! gods! I thank you--you indeed are righteous. + + _Pub._ See every man disarm'd. Oh, Rome! oh, father! + + _At._ Hold, hold my heart. Alas! they all obey. + + _Reg._ The way is clear. Hamilcar, I attend thee. + + _Ham._ Why, I begin to envy this old man! [_Aside._ + + _Man._ Not the proud victor on the day of triumph, + Warm from the slaughter of dispeopled realms, + Though conquer'd princes grace his chariot wheels, + Though tributary monarchs wait his nod, + And vanquish'd nations bend the knee before him, + E'er shone with half the lustre that surrounds + This voluntary sacrifice for Rome! + Who loves his country will obey her laws; + Who most obeys them is the truest patriot. + + _Reg._ Be our last parting worthy of ourselves. + Farewell! my friends.--I bless the gods who rule us, + Since I must leave you, that I leave you Romans. + Preserve the glorious name untainted still, + And you shall be the rulers of the globe, + The arbiters of earth. The farthest east, + Beyond where Ganges rolls his rapid flood, + Shall proudly emulate the Roman name. + (_Kneels._) Ye gods, the guardians of this glorious people, + Who watch with jealous eye AEneas' race, + This land of heroes I commit to you! + This ground, these walls, this people be your care! + Oh! bless them, bless them with a liberal hand! + Let fortitude and valour, truth and justice, + For ever flourish and increase among them! + And if some baneful planet threat the Capitol + With its malignant influence, oh, avert it!-- + Be Regulus the victim of your wrath.-- + On this white head be all your vengeance pour'd, + But spare, oh, spare, and bless immortal Rome! + Ah! tears? my Romans weep? Farewell! farewell! + + ATTILIA _struggles to get to_ REGULUS--_is prevented--she + faints--he fixes his eye steadily on her for some time, + and then departs to the ships_. + + _Man._ (_looking after him._) + Farewell! farewell! thou glory of mankind! + Protector, father, saviour of thy country! + Through Regulus the Roman name shall live, + Shall triumph over time, and mock oblivion. + Farewell! thou pride of this immortal coast! + 'Tis Rome alone a Regulus can boast. + + + + + EPILOGUE. + + WRITTEN BY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ. + + SPOKEN BY MISS MANSELL. + + + What son of physic, but his art extends, + As well as hand, when call'd on by his friends? + What landlord is so weak to make you fast, + When guests like you bespeak a good repast? + But weaker still were he whom fate has plac'd + To soothe your cares, and gratify your taste, + Should he neglect to bring before your eyes + Those dainty dramas which from genius rise; + Whether your luxury be to smile or weep, + His and your profits just proportion keep. + To-night he brought, nor fears a due reward, + A Roman Patriot by a Female Bard. + Britons who feel his flame, his worth will rate, + No common spirit his, no common fate. + INFLEXIBLE and CAPTIVE must be great. + "How!" cries a sucking , thus lounging, straddling + (Whose head shows want of ballast by its nodding), + "A woman write? Learn, Madam, of your betters, + And read a noble Lord's Post-hu-mous Letters. + There you will learn the sex may merit praise + By making puddings--not by making plays: + They can make tea and mischief, dance and sing; + Their heads, though full of feathers, can't take wing." + I thought they could, Sir; now and then by chance, + Maids fly to Scotland, and some wives to France. + He still went nodding on--"Do all she can, + Woman's a trifle--play-thing--like her fan." + Right, Sir, and when a wife the _rattle_ of a man. + And shall such _things_ as these become the test + Of female worth? the fairest and the best + Of all heaven's creatures? for so Milton sung us, + And, with such champions, who shall dare to wrong us? + Come forth, proud man, in all your pow'rs array'd; + Shine out in all your splendour--Who's afraid? + Who on French wit has made a glorious war, + Defended Shakspeare, and subdu'd Voltaire?-- + Woman![A]--Who, rich in knowledge, knows no pride, + Can boast ten tongues, and yet not satisfied? + Woman![B]--Who lately sung the sweetest lay? + A woman! woman! woman![C] still I say. + Well, then, who dares deny our power and might? + Will any married man dispute our right? + Speak boldly, Sirs,--your wives are not in sight. + What! are you silent? then you are content; + Silence, the proverb tells us, gives consent. + Critics, will you allow our honest claim? + Are you dumb, too? This night has fix'd our fame. + + + + +FOOTNOTES. + + A: Mrs. Montague, Author of an Essay on the Writings of + Shakspeare. + + B: Mrs. Carter, well known for her skill in ancient and + modern languages. + + C: Miss Aikin, whose Poems were just published. + + + LONDON: + Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode, + New-Street-Square. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: + +Hyphenation is inconsistent. + +In view of the Roman context, the word "virtus" was left in place in +a speech by Manlius in Act III, although it may be a misprint for +"virtue". + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Inflexible Captive, by Hannah More + *** \ No newline at end of file