with the beauties of fair Barce.— She stays behind if Regulus departs. Behold the cause of all the well-feign'd virtue Of this mock patriot—curst dissimulation!

Pub. And canst thou entertain such vile suspicions? Gods! what an outrage to a son like me!

Ham. Yes, Roman! now I see thee as thou art, Thy naked soul divested of its veil, Its specious colouring, its dissembled virtues: Thou hast plotted with the Senate to prevent Th' exchange of captives. All thy subtle arts, Thy smooth inventions, have been set to work— The base refinements of your polish'd land.

Pub. In truth the doubt is worthy of an African.

Ham. I know.——

——

Pub. Peace, Carthaginian, peace, and hear me, Dost thou not know, that on the very man Thou hast insulted, Barce's fate depends?

Ham. Too well I know, the cruel chance of war Gave her, a blooming captive, to thy mother; Who, dying, left the beauteous prize to thee.

Pub. Now, see the use a Roman makes of power. Heav'n is my witness how I lov'd the maid! Oh, she was dearer to my soul than light! Dear as the vital stream that feeds my heart! But know my honour's dearer than my love. I do not even hope thou wilt believe me; Thy brutal soul, as savage as thy clime, Can never taste those elegant delights, Those pure refinements, love and glory yield. 'Tis not to thee I stoop for vindication, Alike to me thy friendship or thy hate; But to remove from others a pretence For branding Publius with the name of villain; That they may see no sentiment but honour Informs this bosom—Barce, thou art free. Thou hast my leave with him to quit this shore. Now learn, barbarian, how a Roman loves! 

Barce. He cannot mean it!

Ham. Oh, exalted virtue! Which challenges esteem though from a foe.

Oh, exalted virtue!

Publius

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