_Barce._ Dost thou approve a virtue which must lead To chains, to tortures, and to certain death? _At._ Barce! those chains, those tortures, and that death, Will be his triumph. _Barce._ Thou art pleas'd, Attilia: By heav'n thou dost exult in his destruction! _At._ Ah! pitying powers. [_Weeps._ _Barce._ I do not comprehend thee. _At._ No, Barce, I believe it.--Why, how shouldst thou? If I mistake not, thou wast born in Carthage, In a barbarian land, where never child Was taught to triumph in a father's chains. _Barce._ Yet thou dost weep--thy tears at least are honest, For they refuse to share thy tongue's deceit; They speak the genuine language of affliction, And tell the sorrows that oppress thy soul. _At._ Grief, that dissolves in tears, relieves the heart. When congregated vapours melt in rain, The sky is calm'd, and all's serene again. [_Exit._ _Barce._ Why, what a strange, fantastic land is this! This love of glory's the disease of Rome; It makes her mad, it is a wild delirium, An universal and contagious frenzy; It preys on all, it spares nor sex nor age: The Consul envies Regulus his chains-- He, not less mad, contemns his life and freedom-- The daughter glories in the father's ruin-- And Publius, more distracted than the rest, Resigns the object that his soul adores, For this vain phantom, for this empty glory. This may be virtue; but I thank the gods, The soul of Barce's not a Roman soul. [_Exit._ _Scene within sight of the Tiber--Ships ready for the embarkation of Regulus and the Ambassador--Tribune and People stopping up the passage--Consul and Lictors endeavouring to clear it._ MANLIUS _and_ LICINIUS _advance_. _Lic._ Rome will not suffer Regulus to go. _Man._ I thought the Consul and the Senators Had been a part of Rome. _Lic._ I grant they are-- But still the people are the greater part. _Man._ The greater, not the wiser. _Lic._ The less cruel.---- Full of esteem and gratitude to Regulus, We would preserve his life. _Man._ And we his honour. _Lic._ His honour!---- _Man._ Yes. Time presses. Words are vain. Make way there--clear the passage. _Lic._ On your lives, Stir not a man. _Man._ I do command you, go. _Lic._ And I forbid it. _Man._ Clear the way, my friends. How dares Licinius thus oppose the Consul? _Lic._ How dar'st thou, Manlius, thus oppose the Tribune? _Man._ I'll show thee what I dare, imprudent boy!-- Lictors, force through the passage. _Lic._ Romans, guard it. _Man._ Gods! is my power resisted then with arms? Thou dost affront the Majesty of Rome. _Lic._ The Majesty of Rome is in the people; Thou dost insult it by opposing them. _People._ Let noble Regulus remain in Rome. _Man._ My friends, let me explain this treacherous scheme.