_At._ (_alone._) This flattering hope, alas! has prov'd abortive. One Consul is our foe, the other absent. What shall the sad Attilia next attempt? Suppose I crave assistance from the people! Ah! my unhappy father, on what hazards, What strange vicissitudes, what various turns, Thy life, thy liberty, thy all depends! _Enter_ BARCE (_in haste_). _Barce._ Ah, my Attilia! _At._ Whence this eager haste? _Barce._ Th' ambassador of Carthage is arriv'd. _At._ And why does _that_ excite such wondrous transport? _Barce._ I bring another cause of greater still. _At._ Name it, my Barce. _Barce._ _Regulus_ comes with him. _At._ My father! can it be? _Barce._ Thy father----Regulus. _At._ Thou art deceiv'd, or thou deceiv'st thy friend. _Barce._ Indeed I saw him not, but every tongue Speaks the glad tidings. _Enter_ PUBLIUS. _At._ See where Publius comes. _Pub._ My sister, I'm transported! Oh, Attilia, He's here, our father----Regulus is come! _At._ I thank you, gods: O my full heart! where is he? Hasten, my brother, lead, O lead me to him. _Pub._ It is too soon: restrain thy fond impatience. With Africa's ambassador he waits, Until th' assembled senate give him audience. _At._ Where was he Publius when thou saw'st him first? _Pub._ You know, in quality of Roman quæstor, My duty 'tis to find a fit abode For all ambassadors of foreign states. Hearing the Carthaginian was arriv'd, I hasten'd to the port, when, O just gods! No foreigner, no foe, no African Salutes my eye, but Regulus----my father! _At._ Oh mighty joy! too exquisite delight! What said the hero? tell me, tell me all, And ease my anxious breast. _Pub._ Ere I arriv'd, My father stood already on the shore, Fixing his eyes with anxious eagerness, As straining to descry the Capitol. I saw, and flew with transport to embrace him, Pronounc'd with wildest joy the name of father-- With reverence seiz'd his venerable hand, And would have kiss'd it; when the awful hero, With that stern grandeur which made Carthage tremble, Drew back--stood all collected in himself, And said austerely, Know, thou rash young man, That _slaves_ in _Rome_ have not the rights of _fathers_. Then ask'd, if yet the senate was assembled, And where? which having heard, without indulging The fond effusions of his soul, or mine, He suddenly retir'd. I flew with speed To find the Consul, but as yet success Attends not my pursuit. Direct me to him. _Barce._ Publius, you'll find him in Bellona's temple. _At._ Then Regulus returns to Rome a slave! _Pub._ Yes, but be comforted; I know he brings Proposals for a peace; his will's his fate. _At._ Rome may, perhaps, refuse to treat of peace.