the fathers, And try to soften their austerity; My rigour they may render vain, for know, I am Rome's Consul, not her King, Attilia. —— —— Manlius 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! Barce Barce. Ah, my Attilia! At. Whence this eager haste? 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. Regulus comes with him. At. My father! can it be? Barce. Thy father——Regulus. Thy father —— At. Thou art deceiv'd, or thou deceiv'st thy friend.
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