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.