Reg. Ah! Publius here at such a time as this?
Know'st thou the 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 dye,
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 civiliz'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 rev'rence 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,
His 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 faté,
'Twill be more glorious if announc'd by thee.
  Pub. Too much, too much, thy rigid virtue claims
From thy unhappy son. O 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 wouldst 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.
  Reg. Th' important hour draws on, and now my soul
Loses her wanted calmness, lest the Senate
Should doubt what answer to return to Carthage.
 O ye protecting deities of Rome!
Ye guardian gods! look down propitions on her,
Inspire her Senate with your sacred wisdom,
And call up all that's Roman in their souls!
 See that the Hetors 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. 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 the 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 daug'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! saidst 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. 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 fired 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 virtue,
O farewell! may all the gods protect and bless thee.
  Reg. Now I begin to live: Propitions 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 flatt'ring 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 any, 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 Attilin of her claim
To final 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.
  Att. Once more, my dearest father——
  Reg. Ah, presume not
To call me by that name. For know, Attilin,
I number thee among the foes of Regulus.
  Att. What do I hear? thy foe? my father's foe?
  Reg. His worst of foes—the murd'rer of his glory.
  Att. Ah! is it then a proof of enmity
To wish thee all the good that gods can give thee,
To yield my life, if needful, for thy service?
  Reg. Thou rush, 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!
  Att. 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 with infamy?
Or how can she be Regulus's daughter,
Whose coward mind wants fortitude and honour?
Unhappy children I now you make me feel
The burden of my chains: your feeble souls
Have made me know I am indeed a slave.
  Att. 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 Attilin,
Do not repent thee of the pious deed:
It was a virtuous error. That in us
Is a just duty, which the godlike soul
Of Regulus would think a shameful weakness.
If the contempt of life in him be virtue,
It were in us a crime to let him perish.
Perhaps at last he may consent to live;
He then will thank us for our cares to save him:
Let not his anger fright thee. Though our love
Offend him now, yet, when his mighty soul
Is reconcil'd to life, he will not chide us.
The sick man lonthes, and with reluctance takes
The remedy by which his health's restor'd.
  Att. Licinius! his reproaches wound my soul.
I cannot live, and hear his indignation.
  Lic. Would my Attilin rather lose her father
Than by offending him, preserve his life?
  Att. 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 wanted lustre on Licinius,
Who lives but in the sunshine of thy smiles.
  Att. Oh 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 reason may withhold, or mercy give.