University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE SECOND.

Syphax, Sophonisba.
Sy.
A deep amazement on thy face is painted,
Oh lady, in beholding me again?—
I should have been no more: in this respect
Fame was propitious, but my fortune adverse.

So.
Oh unexpected and appalling sight!
Now is the horrid mystery at once
Fully unravell'd ...

Sy.
To thyself thou mutterest?
Speak, speak to me. Behold me; I am he,
Thy consort am indeed, who, for thy sake,
My sceptre and my honour having lost,
Deprived of both, in Roman fetters bound,
Yet on the brink of the much wish'd-for tomb
Awhile delay my steps to learn thy fate.

So.
What words are these? ... where shall I hide myself? ...

Sy.
Ah! do I see on thy bewilder'd face
At once the characters of shame and death?
Thy desolate impenetrable silence
Speaks a clear language: in thy heart I read
The conflict of a thousand impulses.
Yet no reproaches shalt thou hear from me;
Although insulted, and in fetters bound,
By all deserted, yet for thee, oh lady,
Far more than for myself I feel compassion.
Thou knowest if I love thee.—I'm aware
That Asdrubal's commands, the bitter hate
That thou for Rome hast in thy breast, alone
Were thy conductors to my bed; for me
Thou never feltest love. Thus I myself,
Thou seest, plead in thy defence. I know
That with another not unworthy flame
Thy bosom glow'd, or ere thou wert my spouse.
Love, by experiment, I comprehend.
Its force omnipotent, its madnesses,
I know them all; and hence, spite of myself,
Have ever loved thee. Thou, by laws divine
And human, forced to love me, not for this
Was it e'er possible for thee to do it.
Hence jealous rage, by little and by little,
Feeds on my heart: I thirsted for revenge;
And on my hated rival still could wreak it
Although a captive ... But thou conquerest, lady:
More than a jealous, I, a sincere lover,
Would now leave thee in safety by my death.—
Pardon thee, groaning; in a horrible life,
Persist, though hating it, and this alone
To behold thee once more; strongly at once
Desire thy death, and happiness with others;
Now as the luckless source of all my ills
Would curse thee; weeping, would adore thee now
As the sole blessing left to me in life ...
Behold, in what distracting agonies
The latest moments I drag on for thee
Of my protracted and opprobrious life.

So.
... I will presume, although with trembling voice,
To unveil to thee my thoughts.—Little remains
For me to say: magnanimously thou
My cause already hast too warmly pleaded:
Daughter of Asdrubal, and wife of Syphax,
It now remains alone for me to die
As worthy of these names.—At the report
Spread of thy death, 'tis true that I presumed
My hand to promise; but 'tis not yet given:
Thou livest, and to Syphax I belong.
T'avenge thy cause and mine at once 'gainst Rome,
No firmer champion could have been secured
Than Masinissa. Blinded, I confess,
And caught by his incomparable prowess,
I purposed to estrange him from the Romans,
And make him the deliverer of Carthage.
But Syphax lives; and I return once more,
Whatever fate he chuse, to be of that
A constant, and not quite unworthy, partner.

Sy.
Thy lofty proposition deeply soothes
A wretched monarch, and a spouse not loved;
But to a lover, as I am to thee,
Ardent beyond expression, it is death.
I have already, and a long time since,
Fix'd in my heart my fate, which thou, oh no!
Should'st never share with me. Then, lady, now
Listen to my entreaties and commands ...
But I see Scipio, who towards us advances;
He is the only person in the world
To whom I would address my latest accents.