_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.