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SCENE THE SECOND.

Scipio, Masinissa.
Ma.
Scipio,
I never more exultingly embrace thee,
Than when a conqueror I return: I seem
More worthy of thee then.

Sci.
Oh Masinissa,
Thou'rt now become one of our main supports;
Th'artificer of glory to myself
At the same time art thou: hence witness, Heaven,
How much I love thee; and that love thou knowest.—
But tell me, (to the Roman general speak not,
But to thy Scipio,) tell me, dost thou now
Return indeed a conqueror?

Ma.
By my hand
Cirta besieged, and by my hand destroy'd;
And all the residue dispersed and slain
Of the dead king ...


200

Sci.
How speakest thou? E'en yet
Hast thou to learn that Syphax lives! ...

Ma.
Oh Heaven!
What do I hear?

Sci.
'Tis true, that dead in fight
Rumour reported him. He in that fight
Fell wounded, but not mortal was the wound,
And thence by Lelius taken in my camp
A captive ...

Ma.
Syphax lives? And in this camp?

Sci.
He is the noblest fruit of our success.
But what do I behold? Does this afflict thee?

Ma.
Oh! ... what ... do I ... not ... feel! ... From my surprise ...
But ... wherefore ... with such ... cold formality ...
Dost thou receive me? ... What dost thou conceal
Within thy breast?

Sci.
Ah Masinissa, thou,
Yes thou indeed within thy breast dost hide,
And to thy faithful friend, a mighty secret.
Grief and distraction, rather than surprise,
Are on thy face alternately express'd.
Now whence could this arise in thee, if thus
Syphax restored were not an obstacle
To some conceal'd propensities of thine?
Ah Masinissa!—All I know; to me
Thy silence doth reveal it; for thyself,
Excepting this, nought in the world I fear'd.
By her alone whom now into this camp
Thou hast enticed, by her, and no one else,
Thy glory, and the glory of thy friend,
At once may be obscured. I did not stand
In Cirta at thy side: to flames of love

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Hence hast thou sacrificed a distant friend.
But yet, I do not of thy deeds complain;
Thou givest me an ample proof of friendship,
In not depositing thy prize elsewhere
Than in my camp; in wishing to confide
The conflicts of thy lacerated heart
To Scipio's heart alone.

Ma.
—That Syphax lives
I hear most unexpectedly.—I hoped
In Sophonisba to have found a consort:
To me was she betroth'd ere given to Syphax:
He ineffectually defended her
Against our arms; and to a conquer'd king,
Taken in battle, there is nothing left.
But Syphax, though subdued, in heart is lofty;
Nor long will he, I feel assured, survive
This his disgrace.—But, be it as it may
With him, listen, oh Scipio, to my thoughts.—
A warm and sincere friend thou long hast found
In Masinissa: equally sincere,
And more warm as a lover, learn that he
Derides all obstacles. A lukewarm flame
Never yet enter'd a Numidian heart:
Or I will be loved Sophonisba's spouse,
Or with her breathe my last. Within thy camp
I was myself impatient to conduct her:
Here only were the wishes of my heart
Thoroughly satisfied; here, with lofty voice,
Did glory, honour, friendship, virtue call me;
Here, without forfeiting my love, I hope
Completely to discharge my several duties.
From my commander, and my faithful friend,
I wish to learn how we may best succeed

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To vanquish Carthage; by what arts of war
Rome's power and splendour may be best increased,
And glory for ourselves; and, finally,
How I may best ensure my happiness.

Sci.
Wert thou my only son, I swear to thee,
I should not mourn, as now I mourn, the blind
And youthful error that hath thus misled thee.
Our glory, the prosperity of Rome,
The imminent and total fall of Carthage,
And thy unrivall'd, genuine happiness,
All, all were in our power; before that thou
Vanquish'd in Cirta, to th'assaults of love
Submittedst to captivity: but thou
Hast taken all from us, and from thyself,
With this thy fatal love.—But no; thou canst not
Stifle the cries of thy upbraiding heart;
Towards Syphax never canst thou be unjust;
Nor canst thou ever to thy only friend
Be cruel and ungrateful. This thy love
Is by the life of Syphax now condemn'd,
Dissever'd, and annull'd: nor ever thou ...

Ma.
Nor ever? ... Sophonisba shall this day
My consort be; I swear that she shall be.
And if, with living, Syphax would protract
My anguish and his infamy, he ought,
Upon this spot, himself, with his own hand,
With his own sword, to slay me; or himself
To-day, by my hand immolated, fall.

Sci.
Syphax defenceless, and a prisoner,
Is in our camp; and in his heart conceives not
'Gainst Masinissa an unworthy thought.—
Thou ravest now; but I am well assured,
If once thine eyes beheld that wretched king,

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Thou generous, far from treating him with scorn,
Ah yes! would'st be the first to pity him.
But let us grant, that, be it how it may,
By some means or by other, Syphax die,
And hence thou be the tranquil possessor
Of Sophonisba, to what party then,
Think'st thou, would'st thou betake thyself?

Ma.
To Rome,
And to my Scipio bound eternally,
No power on earth ...

Sci.
But tell me, more than Rome
Lov'st thou not Sophonisba?

Ma.
I? ... At present
That would I not examine.

Sci.
Wretched friend!
I, ere thyself, already know thou dost.
I know, that having sacrificed thy interest,
Thy judgment, and the sacred austere names
Of gratitude, of friendship, and of faith,
As victim to a luckless destiny,
Thou rushest on destruction. Thou canst not
Asdrubal's daughter at thy side long keep,
And persevere the advocate of Rome,
And make thyself th'abolisher of Carthage.
Thy fate I fervently regret. For kings,
The enemies of Rome, thou knowest well,
Or soon or late, what ruin is reserved.
I speak not thus with menacing intent,
Oh no! suspect it not: may Heaven avert
That I should ever be the instrument
Of the just rage of Rome against thyself.
This sword of mine, which formerly avail'd
To reinstate thee in thy throne, ah no!

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Shall never with thy not inferior sword,
Which hath augmented so illustriously
Rome's lofty victories, for mastery strive.
No, rather than 'gainst thee, would I direct
Its point against myself: but tell me thou,
Am I collected Rome? I am, thou know'st,
A private citizen of Rome; nor arms,
Nor counsellors, nor captains, doth she want.
Another leader in my place will come,
With equal fortune, with superior judgment,
And less compassion, to these fated shores;
And he will make thee recollect thy faith,
Though pledged so solemnly, so weakly kept.

Ma.
Now, would'st thou that a man who is thy friend,
Should, to the terror of precarious ills
In future times, yield that which he denies
To yield to friendship? Ill thou knowest me.—
In short, I ask of thee, whether of Cirta,
Spoil'd by my sword and my Numidians,
And by my blood and theirs; whether to-day
The booty of that Cirta doth belong
To Rome or to myself? if Sophonisba,
My promised consort, by myself alone
Conducted hither, in this camp is deem'd
The wife of Masinissa and a queen,
Or if she be the slave of Rome?

Sci.
—She was,
And is, (alas, but too unquestionably!)
The wife of Syphax still.

Ma.
I understand thee.
Oh agony! ... and dost thou hope? ...

Sci.
To thee,

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Oh Masinissa, I resign the choice:
From post to post defenceless in this camp
I wander; thou by thy Numidians here
At once may'st cut me off; thou may'st thyself
Plunge in my heart thy sword: but to thy ruin
I will not suffer thee to rush, if first
Thou kill me not. But if thou have the heart
To wish my ruin, of my own accord,
I, for thy sake, embrace it. Keep thy prize:
Rome, and her conscript fathers, then shall hear me
Th'accuser of myself: I must confess,
That to our private friendship I was pleased
To sacrifice the interests of Rome,
And of thyself; and I must, as the fruit
Of my equivocal regard for thee,
Reap unequivocal disgrace.

Ma.
Oh Scipio,
Thy too great friendship is a thousand times
More cruel to myself than menaces,
Or arms, could ever be ... Wretch that I am! ...
My heart thou rendest.—But no power can thence
Extract the firm inextricable dart
That love hath planted there. Thy words infuse
Corroding poisons to the cureless wound:
This is indeed unheard-of agony ...
Make me at once outrageously ungrateful,
And treat me as a foe inveterate;
Or as a pitying friend bear with my woes ...
Thou see'st my tears; those tears canst thou restrain?—
What do I say? Ah vile! What dare I say
In Scipio's presence?—Thou hast hitherto
Beheld me frenetick.—Let this suffice.—

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Shortly shall Scipio, the Roman leader,
Learn what has been th'immutable resolve
Of Masinissa, the Numidian king.

Sci.
Ah hear me!