 | Hannibal and Scipio |  |
Scene the Second.
To them Massanissa, Souldiers bringing in Syphax bound.Leli.
'Tis Massanissa.
Scip.
Th'only wealth
I'de be possest of. I embrace in thee
A boundlesse treasure.
Massa.
Let not Scipm
Flatter me into pride for what is rather
Fortunes then mine.
Scip.
The actions of thy vertue.
Fortun's an under power that is her selfe
Commanded by desert. 'Tis a meere vainnesse
Of our credulity to give her more
Then her due attribute; which is but servant
To an heroick spirit.
Massa.
This example
All's but endeavour untill perfected
By the successe, and that is fortunes only;
Desert shar's little in't.
Scip.
Let not thy modesty
Maintaine such errors. To refuse just praise
Is an extreme worse then man's over-weening
Opinion of himselfe. Great Massanissa
Shall have all honours due unto his conquest;
And weare triumphant Garlands; that false King
Chain'd to his Chariot from the gazers eyes
Inviting scorne, not pitty.
Syph.
'Tis not manly
To insult over misery, to which
Thy self's as subject, and perhaps mai'st feele,
Chance mak's prosperity when 'tis at highest
But pastime to delight her giddy humour:
And will'd ject the most secure possessour,
When she command's a restitution
Of her lent favours, that she may conferre them
Vpon another. This consideration
Might invite mercy.
Scip.
When superiour justice
Mak's us her instrument, should we be partiall
I th'execution, 'twere to mock the power,
And call downe vengeance. Yet I grieve for Syphax
That he deserv's the punishment; whose weaknesse
Suffer'd a peece of painted earth to tempt him
From his religion, and neglect the gods,
Whom he invok't for witnesse to that vow
A woman made him violate.
Syph.
'Tis my hope
Shee may deceive thee too, and with her charmes
Bewitch the boasting Conquerour that's her slave.
From's faith to Rome.
Massa.
His madnesse will betray me
To a reproach
It tak's from mine owne suffering
To see mine enemy in the same danger:
When he by his adulterous embraces
Receiv's the like infection int' his soule
That made me sick of vertue, and of all
But my disease.
Scip.
Doe you enjoy the Lady?
Massa.
Yes: she's my wife.
Scip.
Your act was somewhat rash;
Before her husbands death! Doth the religion
You pay Numidia's gods warrant it lawfull?
Massa.
Syphax is dead in his captivity.
His life was mine; which I but lent him only
For Romes great triumph.
Scip.
Wee'l consult a little,
And then dispose you Syphax.
Syph.
As your will
Adviseth you. It is the curse of greatnesse
To be it's owne destruction. So we see
That mountaine Cedars have the least defence
Gainst stormes, when shrubs confront their violence.
Exeunt.
| Hannibal and Scipio | |