_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?