University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FIFTH.

Sophonisba, Masinissa.
Ma.
Perfidious lady!
And dost thou also to inhuman pride
Add treachery?

So.
Treachery!

Ma.
Treachery, yes; while I
Prepare to save you, or to die for you,
Thyself revealest my design to Scipio.

So.
—Syphax allowed me not to die with him.

Ma.
He wish'd thee safe with me.

So.
Already he
His freedom had regain'd; that which I seek,
And shall obtain.—I cannot, if my fame
I would not forfeit, from the Roman camp
Withdraw myself with thee. With a true love
Too much thou lovest and hast loved me,
That I should save myself at such a risk:
I am too worthy of thy tenderness,
E'er to allow thee to do this. I have,
In making manifest thy purposes,
Taken nought from thee but the fatal power
My honour and thy glory to betray.

Ma.
Thou art deceived; nought hast thou taken from me.
Yet I may all achieve: rivers of blood
I yet may shed: all mine I will pour out
Ere I leave thee a slave! ...

So.
Am I a slave?
Such dost thou now account me?

Ma.
In the power
Of Rome art thou.

So.
Of Rome! As yet I am
In my own power; or in thy power, if thou
Feel'st for me yet the pity of a king.

Ma.
Thou mak'st me tremble ... on thy countenance
I see a horrible security,
The harbinger of voluntary death ...
But I would lead thee ...

So.
All, all will be vain:
There is no force on earth that can avail
To counteract my will, which is in me
The child of duty. Indispensable,
Immutable, impending, is my death,
And 'twill, I hope, be free; although I am
Of all things destitute; although I left
In Cirta, inadvertently, the last,
The only friend of subjugated kings,
My faithful poison; from my lover's lips
Although I heard a sacred solemn oath,
That he would wrest me from the hands of Rome; ...
An oath committed to the vagrant winds.
Amid these haughty eagles yet a queen,
Daughter of Asdrubal, no less secure,
No less collected in myself I stand
Than if in Carthage, or within my palace.—
But thou, thou speakest not. ... Distracted looks,
Swimming with tears, thou fixest on the ground. ...
Ah! trust me, my affliction equals thine ...

Ma.
The effect of each is different: destitute
Of courage, weaker than the weakest woman,
Trembling I stand; while thou ...

So.
The state of each
May be dissimilar: not so our hearts ...
Believe my words: although I do not weep,
I feel my bosom rack'd with agony:
I am a woman; nor make I parade
Of virile courage: but there doth remain
No path for me to take save that of death.
If I had loved thee less, I might perchance
Have been the partner of thy flight to Carthage;
And, at the price of my renown, have gain'd
A short-lived vengeance, with thy troops, o'er Rome:
But I would not expose thee, for my sake,
To an unprofitable risk. The fall
Of Carthage is inevitable now:
Ill can a corrupt and discordant city
Cope with united and harmonious Rome.
I should have lived too long if I had seen,
On my account, my country overwhelm'd,
And thee with it hurl'd headlong to destruction.
Faithful remain to Rome; continue still
A grateful friend to mighty Scipio.
To raise thee to great power, to give thy virtues
An ample scope for action, all this now
My death can do, and nothing but my death.
Thy good, e'en more than mine, to this compels me ...

Ma.
Dost count me then so vile as to expect
That I should struggle to survive thy death?

So.
I wish thee to excel me: and to prove
Thy brighter excellence thou should'st survive;
And in the name of thy renown do I
Enjoin thee to do this. To thee would death
Be a disgrace; for to it love alone
Could prompt thee: life were a disgrace to me,
Since love alone could force me to endure it.
My death, thou know'st, is indispensable;
To me thou swaredst it; and such a gift
Would yet be grateful to me from thy hands:
Not by refusing it canst thou avert
My settled purpose. In this very place,
Before the camp, immoveable and mute,
Yet three more days, which I shall add to this,
In which I have not slaked my burning thirst
E'en with a draught of water, will give me
Entire ascendency o'er Rome. But ah!
Is there compassion in thee, thus to leave me
To a protracted agonizing death,
When thou hadst promised to procure me one
Both brief and dignified ... Fool that I was!
Trusting in thee alone, I hither came ...

Ma.
Thou on our death hast then resolved? ...

So.
On mine.
If madly thou, against my express will,
Turnest thy arms against thyself, now hear
A furious threat, and if thou dare, defy it;
I will be dragg'd a living slave to Rome,
And will ascribe to thee my infamy ...
Ere the return of Scipio, I conjure thee,
Restore me, thou, to perfect liberty;
If thou art not forsworn.

Ma.
What dost thou ask? ...
Oh Heaven! ... I cannot arm thee with my sword ...
Thy dubious aim ...

So.
The sword requires, 'tis true,
A hand accustomed to its management.
A bowl of speedy and effective poison
Were more adapted to my female courage.
I see not far from hence thy faithful son
Guludda; for thy sake he always bears it;
Call him; I am resolved.

Ma.
Oh day of woe!—
Give me that bowl, Guludda.—Now go thou
Wait for me at my tent.—And is this then,
Is this at once the first and latest pledge
Of my unbounded love, which thou would'st wrest
By force from me? ... Too certainly I see
That thou on no terms will consent to live;
And to a long and agonizing death
I cannot leave thee.—I will not shed tears, ...
Because thou weepest not: behold, to thee
The deadly potion I present myself
With tearless eyes ... but only on condition,
That in its contents I shall have my share ...

So.
Yes, thou shalt have it, as thou meritest.
Now of my lofty love at length thou'rt worthy.
Give me the bowl.

Ma.
Oh Heaven! ... Hand and heart
I tremble ...

So.
Why delay? Ere Scipio comes
The deed must be accomplish'd ...

Ma.
Take the bowl.
Alas! What have I done? Oh agony! ...

So.
I've quaff'd it to the dregs: I see already
Scipio returns.

Ma.
Dost thou deceive me thus?
I have a sword remaining yet; and I
Will follow thee.