comforted; I know he brings Proposals for a peace; his will's his fate.

At. Rome may, perhaps, refuse to treat of peace.

Pub. Didst thou behold the universal joy At his return, thou wouldst not doubt success. There's not a tongue in Rome but, wild with transport, Proclaims aloud that Regulus is come; The streets are filled with thronging multitudes, Pressing with eager gaze to catch a look. The happy man who can descry him first, Points him to his next neighbour, he to his; Then what a thunder of applause goes round; What music to the ear of filial love! Attilia! not a Roman eye was seen, But shed pure tears of exquisite delight. Judge of my feelings by thy own, my sister. By the large measure of thy fond affection, Judge mine.

At. Where is Licinius? find him out; My joy is incomplete till he partakes it. When doubts and fears have rent my anxious heart, In all my woes he kindly bore a part: Felt all my sorrows with a soul sincere, Sigh'd as I sigh'd, and number'd tear for tear: Now favouring heav'n my ardent vows has blest, He shall divide the transports of my breast.

When doubts and fears have rent my anxious heart,

Attilia

Pub. Barce, adieu!

Barce. Publius, a moment hear me. Know'st thou the name of Africa's ambassador?

Publius, a moment hear me.

Pub. Hamilcar.

Barce. Son of Hanno?

Son of Hanno?

Pub. Yes! the same.

Barce. Ah me! Hamilcar!—How shall I support it!

Pub. Ah, charming maid! the blood forsakes thy cheek: Is he the rival of thy Publius? speak, And tell me all the rigour of my fate.

Barce. Hear me, my Lord. Since I have been thy slave, Thy goodness, and the friendship of Attilia, Have soften'd all the horrors of my fate. Till now I have not felt the weight of bondage. Till now—ah, Publius!—think me not ungrateful, I would not wrong thee—I will be sincere— I will expose 

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