University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE THIRD.

Scipio, Sophonisba, Syphax.
Sy.
Hear me, oh Scipio.—In thy presence vanish
Dissembling purposes: all shame departs
That would forbid me to confess a weakness:
Thou, although none in thy great heart abide,
Great as thou art, conceivest them in others,
And pitiest them humanely.—This is she,
(Attentively regard her,) the sole cause
Is she of all my wretchedness; but yet
All my affections I have placed in her.
Thou for myself hast not yet seen me tremble;
Now for another I descend to prayers;
I am compell'd to do it ...

So.
Certainly
Asdrubal's daughter causes not thy prayers.
Am I not equally with thee secure?—
What, Scipio, canst thou do to me? I, born
A Carthaginian, enemy to Rome,
And in the Roman camp a prisoner,
I yet undaunted stand ...

Sci.
The fatal power,
The disappointing power of destiny
Places us all in hard extremities.
I do not, most assuredly, exult
In your calamities: and thou in vain
Now in my presence makest a parade
Of thy innate antipathy to Rome.
What though the cruelties of Annibal
Banish from Roman bosoms all compassion,
Thence do I not a rancorous hate indulge
Against these enemies. If I am forced
To meet with them in fight, victorious,
I envy and admire them; but, subdued,
I pity and I aid them.

Sy.
Thence, to thee,
That which to no man I would e'er have said,
I trust myself to say ...

So.
What would'st thou say?
Thou for thyself would'st certainly not ask
Aught from the conqueror. Nothing e'er from him
Would I receive; not even his compassion.
What have you more to say? Before great Scipio
Say who would venture to degrade himself?
But, e'en were I degraded, to behold
Before my eyes the spoiler of my race,
The instrument of ultimate destruction
To my illustrious country, that alone
Would now inflame me with magnanimous rage.
The foe of Scipio, though he be humane,
I am as much as I'm the foe of Rome:
To make myself worthy of this, I ought
Rather in Scipio now t'excite surprise,
Than puling tenderness.

Sci.
Each lofty soul
Which meets with adverse fate, almost makes me
Abhor my own prosperity.

So.
A joy
Fatal, but yet a joy, glows in my breast,
Now that I am allowed at length t'unfold
My feelings to the noblest of the Romans.
The mingled conflicts that assail my heart,
Thou only canst conceive, who art at once
A perfect man and citizen.—To him,
Cradled in Carthage, no less than to him
Who pass'd his childhood on the Tyber's banks,
The name of country, more than all things else,
Is graven in the heart. Effeminate thoughts
In me, although a woman, if they gain'd,
Gain'd but a second place. I loved those best,
Proud Romans, who best hated you. Your foe
Was Masinissa once; and at the sound
Of his magnanimous and youthful feats
Was I inflamed. Syphax was then of Rome
I know not whether the ally or vassal.—
These now are my last words; I speak to Scipio,
And to thee, Syphax: artifice avails not;
For both of you know well the heart of man.
The traces of our earliest impressions
Remain profoundly graven in our breasts:
Hence hearing that the death of Syphax gave
Entire superiority to Rome,
And Masinissa's image to my thoughts
At the same time occurring, I design'd
(Perchance my heart suggested it) to wean
From Rome her champion, and to make of him
A shield for Carthage and myself. Thence I
Hither among your eagles came a foe.
And the audacious hope that swell'd my heart
To entice from your alliance Masinissa,
Induced me to relinquish many duties;
I feel the dereliction; culpable,
And self-convicted, I proclaim my guilt;
And I already am prepared to make
A lofty reparation. Perhaps my fate
Led me towards you with an invisible hand,
To give no mean impression of myself:
Behold a path is open'd to me now
To manifest to Rome what lofty soul
May animate a lady born in Carthage.

Sy.
My unexpected life, I clearly see,
Is the sole absolute impediment
To every view of thine: but my existence
Will be a vain and transitory shadow.
My real life in that same moment ceased
When ceased my liberty: thou knowest well
For what I did survive. I learn from thee
Heroic fortitude. Although thy words
Inflict a horrid torment in my heart,
Thou should'st have told thy thoughts to me alone;
I left thee worthy to avenge my fate,
And so I leave thee now ...

So.
Oh doubt it not,
Others remain to avenge us. Let each man
His duty here accomplish; mine are changed
By thy revival—I've divulged to thee
The most conceal'd affections of my heart:
This Scipio heard; to whom I were a foe
Unworthy, had I spoken otherwise.

Sci.
Thy words, at once sublime and frank, convince me
That thou esteemest me no vulgar foe.
Ah! that I could ...

So.
I've said enough.—Now, Syphax,
We should withdraw ...

Sy.
Soon will I follow thee ...

So.
No, no; henceforward will I never quit thee.

Sy.
And yet thou should'st abandon me ...

So.
I will not;
And this resolve in mighty Scipio's presence
I with an oath confirm.—Ah, come with me:
From the so many black and horrible storms
That now assail us, may a transient respite
At least be granted. I, although a woman,
Have hitherto by force restrain'd my tears:
Oh Scipio, 'tis impossible to weep
When thou art present: but imperious Nature
At length will have her tribute. 'Tis the part
Of fortitude to bear adversity;
But not to feel its pressure when it comes,
Rather implies stupidity than strength.

Sy.
Ah wretched me! Why have I lived so long? ...