Reg. How, stay? my oath—my faith—my honour! ah! Do they forget? Pub. No: every man exclaims That neither faith nor honour should be kept With Carthaginian perfidy and fraud. No: every man exclaims Reg. Gods! gods! on what vile principles they reason! Can guilt in Carthage palliate guilt in Rome, Or vice in one absolve it in another? Ah! who hereafter shall be criminal, If precedents are us'd to justify The blackest crimes. Pub. Th' infatuated people Have called the augurs to the sacred fane, There to determine this momentous point. Th' infatuated people Reg. I have no need of oracles, my son; Honour's the oracle of honest men. I gave my promise, which I will observe With most religious strictness. Rome, 'tis true, Had power to choose the peace, or change of slaves; But whether Regulus return, or not, Is his concern, not the concern of Rome. That was a public, this a private care. Publius! thy father is not what he was; I am the slave of Carthage, nor has Rome Power to dispose of captives not her own. Guards! let us to the port.—Farewell, my friend. Man. Let me entreat thee stay; for shouldst thou go To stem this tumult of the populace, They will by force detain thee: then, alas! Both Regulus and Rome must break their faith. Reg. What! must I then remain? Man. No, Regulus, I will not check thy great career of glory: Thou shalt depart; meanwhile, I'll try to calm This wild tumultuous uproar of the people. The consular authority shall still them. No, Regulus, Reg. Thy virtue is my safeguard——but—— —— —— Man. Enough—— I know thy honour, and trust thou to mine. I am a Roman, and I feel some sparks Of Regulus's virtue in my breast. Though fate denies me thy illustrious chains, I will at least endeavour to deserve them. Enough ——
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