At. Tell me, Licinius, and, oh! tell me truly, If thou believ'st, in all the round of time, There ever breath'd a maid so truly wretched? To weep, to mourn a father's cruel fate— To love him with soul-rending tenderness— To know no peace by day or rest by night— To bear a bleeding heart in this poor bosom, Which aches, and trembles but to think he suffers: This is my crime—in any other child 'Twould be a merit.

Lic. Oh! my best Attilia, Do not repent thee of the pious deed: It was a virtuous error. That in us Is a just duty, which the god-like soul Of Regulus would think a shameful weakness. If the contempt of life in him be virtue, It were in us a crime to let him perish. Perhaps at last he may consent to live: He then will thank us for our cares to save him: Let not his anger fright thee. Though our love Offend him now, yet, when his mighty soul Is reconcil'd to life, he will not chide us. The sick man loathes, and with reluctance takes The remedy by which his health's restor'd.

Oh! my best Attilia,

At. Licinius! his reproaches wound my soul. I cannot live and bear his indignation.

Lic. Would my Attilia rather lose her father Than, by offending him, preserve his life?

At. Ah! no. If he but live, I am contented.

Lic. Yes, he shall live, and we again be bless'd; Then dry thy tears, and let those lovely orbs Beam with their wonted lustre on Licinius, Who lives but in the sunshine of thy smiles.

Licinius

At. (alone.) O Fortune, Fortune, thou capricious goddess! Thy frowns and favours have alike no bounds: Unjust, or prodigal in each extreme. When thou wouldst humble human vanity, By singling out a wretch to bear thy wrath, Thou crushest him with anguish to excess: If thou wouldst bless, thou mak'st the happiness Too poignant for his giddy sense to bear.—— Immortal gods, who rule the fates of men, Preserve my father! bless him, bless him, heav'n! If your avenging thunderbolts must fall, Strike here—this bosom will invite the blow, And thank you for it: but in mercy spare, Oh! spare his sacred, venerable head: Respect in him an image of yourselves; And leave a world, who wants it, an example Of courage, wisdom, constancy and truth. Yet if, Eternal Powers who rule this ball! You have decreed that Regulus must fall; Teach me to yield to your divine command, And meekly bow to your correcting hand; Contented to resign, or pleas'd receive, What wisdom may withhold, or mercy give.

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