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.
[Exit ATTILIA.

ACT IV.

SCENE.-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, fearful and dismay'd,
With anxious 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
glory?

called

'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 circumscribed 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 debased 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 shews, but see, alas! where Publius comes.
Ah! he advances with a downcast eye,

And step irresolute.

Reg.

Enter PUBLIUS.

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 you shall depart. Reg. Blest spirit 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 accomplish'd her important work,
And must depart.

Pub.

Ah, my unhappy father!

Reg. Unhappy, Publius! didst thou say unhappy?

Does he, does that blest 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 shew thee.

Reg.

No!-thou can'st fulfil

Thy duty to thy father in a way

More grateful to him: I must straight 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 subdued 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. O, 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.

Att. My brother, I'm distracted, wild with fearTell me, O tell me, what I dread to know

Is it, then, true?—I cannot speak-my father?
Bar. May we believe the fatal news?
Pub.

It is determin'd. Regulus must go.

Yes, Barce.

Att. Immortal powers!-What say'st thou ?
Bar.
Can it be?

Thou can'st not mean it.

Att.

Then you've all betrayed me.

Pub. Thy grief avails not.

Bar.

Enter HAMILCAR and LICINIUS.

Pity us, Hamilcar !

Att. Oh, help, Licinius, help the lost Attilia!

Ham. My Barce! there's no hope.

Lic.

All's lost!

Att.

Ah! my fair mourner,

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.

Att.

Dost thou hope to stop me? Pub. I hope thou wilt resume thy better self, And recollect thy father will not bear

Att. I only recollect I am a daughter,

A poor, defenceless, helpless, wretched daughter! Away—and let me follow.

He

Pub.

No, my sister.

Att. Detain me not-Ah! while thou hold'st

me here,

goes, and I shall never see him more

Bar. My friend, be comforted, he cannot go
Whilst here Hamilcar stays.

Att.
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.
Att. Licinius, wilt thou not relieve my sorrows?
Lic. Yes, at my life's expense, my heart's best
treasure,

Wouldst thou instruct me how.

Att.

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.

Att. And is it thus thou dost advise thy sister?

Are these, ye gods, the feelings of a son?
Indifference here becomes impiety-