The Inflexible Captive Part 12

Wilt thou preserve me then?

_Ham._ I will.

_Reg._ But how?

_Ham._ By leaving thee at liberty to _fly_.

_Reg._ Ah!

_Ham._ I will dismiss my guards on some pretence, Meanwhile do thou escape, and lie conceal'd: I will affect a rage I shall not feel, Unmoor my ships, and sail for Africa.

_Reg._ Abhorr'd barbarian!

_Ham._ Well, what dost thou say?

Art thou not much surpris'd?

_Reg._ I am, indeed.

_Ham._ Thou could'st not then have hop'd it?

_Reg._ No! I could not.

_Ham._ And yet I'm not a Roman.

_Reg._ (_smiling contemptuously._) I perceive it.

_Ham._ You may retire (_aloud to the guards_).

_Reg._ No!--Stay, I charge you stay.

_Ham._ And wherefore stay?

_Reg._ I thank thee for thy offer, But I shall go with thee.

_Ham._ 'Tis well, proud man!

Thou dost despise me, then?

_Reg._ No--but I pity thee.

_Ham._ Why pity me?

_Reg._ Because thy poor dark soul Hath never felt the piercing ray of virtue.

Know, African! the scheme thou dost propose Would injure me, thy country, and thyself.

_Ham._ Thou dost mistake.

_Reg._ Who was it gave thee power To rule the destiny of Regulus?

Am I a slave to Carthage, or to thee?

_Ham._ What does it signify from whom, proud Roman!

Thou dost receive this benefit?

_Reg._ A benefit?

O savage ignorance! is it a benefit To lie, elope, deceive, and be a villain?

_Ham._ What! not when life itself, when all's at stake?

Know'st thou my countrymen prepare thee tortures That shock imagination but to think of?

Thou wilt be mangled, butcher'd, rack'd, impal'd.

Does not thy nature shrink?

_Reg._ (_smiling at his threats._) Hamilcar! no.

Dost thou not know the Roman genius better?

We live on honour--'tis our food, our life.

The motive, and the measure of our deeds!

We look on death as on a common object; The tongue nor faulters, nor the cheek turns pale, Nor the calm eye is mov'd at sight of him: We court, and we embrace him undismay'd; We smile at tortures if they lead to glory, And only cowardice and guilt appal us.

_Ham._ Fine sophistry! the valour of the tongue, The heart disclaims it; leave this pomp of words, And cease dissembling with a friend like me.

I know that life is dear to all who live, That death is dreadful,--yes, and must be fear'd, E'en by the frozen apathists of Rome.

_Reg._ Did I fear death when on Bagrada's banks I fac'd and slew the formidable serpent That made your boldest Africans recoil, And shrink with horror, though the monster liv'd A native inmate of their own parch'd deserts?

Did I fear death before the gates of Adis?-- Ask Bostar, or let Asdrubal confess.

_Ham._ Or shall I rather of Xantippus ask, Who dar'd to undeceive deluded Rome, And prove this vaunter not invincible?

'Tis even said, in Africa I mean, He made a prisoner of this demiG.o.d.-- Did we not triumph then?

_Reg._ Vain boaster! no.

No Carthaginian conquer'd Regulus; Xantippus was a Greek--a brave one too: Yet what distinction did your Afric make Between the man who serv'd her, and her foe: I was the object of her open hate; He, of her secret, dark malignity.

He durst not trust the nation he had sav'd; He knew, and therefore fear'd you.--Yes, he knew Where once you were oblig'd you ne'er forgave.

Could you forgive at all, you'd rather pardon The man who hated, than the man who serv'd you.

Xantippus found his ruin ere it reach'd him, Lurking behind your honours and rewards; Found it in your feign'd courtesies and fawnings.

When vice intends to strike a master stroke, Its veil is smiles, its language protestations.

The Spartan's merit threaten'd, but his service Compell'd his ruin.--Both you could not pardon.

_Ham._ Come, come, I know full well----

_Reg._ Barbarian! peace.

I've heard too much.--Go, call thy followers: Prepare thy ships, and learn to do thy duty.

_Ham._ Yes!--show thyself intrepid, and insult me; Call mine the blindness of barbarian friendship.

On Tiber's banks I hear thee, and am calm: But know, thou scornful Roman! that too soon In Carthage thou may'st fear and feel my vengeance: Thy cold, obdurate pride shall there confess, Though Rome may talk--'tis Africa can punish.

[_Exit._

_Reg._ Farewell! I've not a thought to waste on thee.

Where is the Consul? why does Publius stay?

Alas! I fear--but see Attilia comes!--

_Enter_ ATTILIA.

_Reg._ What brings thee here, my child? what eager joy Transports thee thus?