University of Virginia Library

ACT. III.

Scen. I.

A Roman Camp.
Enter Scipio, Lelius, Attendants, Varro, Guard.
Scip.
'Tis strange that we no News from Cirta hear;
No Souldier thence?

Lel.
None, Sir, does yet appear.

Scip.
'Twere fit some Tribune with our Horse should go,
And the intents of Massinißa know.

Enter Rosalinda, and Massina.
Ros.
Where is the General? By your Majesty,
And august Garb, you should the Consul be:
If such you are, I charge you set me free.

Scip.
Your strict Commands are told in such a way,
The Consul doubts, whether he should obey;
Nor know I Fair one, what or whose you are,
Wrongfully held, or Prisoner of War.

Ros.
By right or wrong, when Beauty pleads like mine,
'Tis fit you strait my liberty enjoyn;
To keep me here against my will is wrong,
Since I to Hannibal the Great belong:
Dare you detain what's his?

Scip.
We all things dare,
But would not willingly offend the Fair;
None shall presume your freedom to deny,
If with the gift we may your friendship buy.

Ros.
My friendship? No to death I hate you all,
All that bear Arms against my Hannibal;
A Man so great, I, though a Roman born,
Canfor his sake, my Friends, and Countrey scorn;
Who drives the bravest of you from the Field,
As I in Cities make all Beauties yield.
Rome! she's not fit, though she her head lay down,
To be his Foot-stool, when he mounts a Throne.

Scip.
My yet unshaken Soul with vertue bound,
No force of War, or Love cou'd ever wound:
But Mars and Cupid now at once appear,
And strike me with an Object fierce and fair.
How her Eyes shine? what killing fires they dart?
And all within I feel the fatal smart.
Away with her, she is a Sorceress, go.

Mass.
Stay, stay, my Lord, remember she's your Foe;
Besides I love her, and if she depart,
Or suffer any wrong, 'twill break my heart.
By all those noble promises you made,
[Kneels.
When Asdrubal in Spain before you fled,
And I your Prisoner was, you lov'd me, then
With Gold, and Jewels sent me home again,
And hung about my neck a Diamond Chain.

Scip.
At your Request, she shall not go, but stay
With me.

Mass.
With you? Dispatch her, Sir, away,
A Rival in my Love I cannot bear:
Love toyes, my Lord, below your greatness are,
They'l take you of the business off the War.

Scip.
Though War usurp the day, Love claims the night;
At least we'l try this Am'rous new delight.

Mass.
Yes, you may try, but ne're can please like me;
You'l still be dreaming, Sir, of Victory,
Of storming Forts, and digging Trenches deep,
And call for Arms, and break your Mistress's sleep.

Ros.
The serious trifles of your love adjourn,
For know I view you both with equal scorn.
O mighty Hannibal! thou all Divine,
This loyal heart shall never be but thine;
How little these compar'd to thee? how low!

Scip.
Trophees as great, and Conquests we can show,
Noble as those which his fam'd Arms adorn,
From as dire dangers Victory have torn.

Ros.
'Tis true, some Glory you atchiev'd in Spain,
And Carthagina by surprize did gain;
For your late Conquest poorly did conspire,
Pretending Peace you set the Camp on fire:
Yet you will loudly talk of Roman fame,
When all your Eagles Dove-like flew so tame:
But Hannibal with noise to War proceeds,
Makes the World start at his unequall'd deeds;
He like some rowling Whale, who as he laves,
With his bright Armory gilds all the waves;
Dashes the frighted Nations from his side,
That pale and foaming fury far off ride,
O're all the watry Region does Command;
The Ocean's Lord, and Tirant of the Land:
While your tame Legions, like the smaller fry,
Glide silent on, and only twinkle by.

Scip.
Take her Massina, bear her from my Tent,
To Freedom, Chains, to Death, or Banishment:
Bear her where I may never see her more.
[Massina leads her off.
She's gone, and now I am as heretofore,
My panting heart with thirst of Glory burns;
Fame flyes before, and beck'ning Fortune turns,
Bevers and Bucklers, Swords and massie Shields,
And all the wonted Objects fancy yields,
Black Hills, and dusty Plains, and bloody Fields.
Enter Maherbal.
What art thou? 'Tis the Consul speaks.

Mah.
From Hannibal I come, with you to treat,
E're Fortune half the frighted World defeat:
The grace which for his Spies you did command,
He thanks you for: But with his Sword in hand,
He who ne're yet a parley wish'd with Rome,
Since War is to the dreadful upshot come,
Would hold discourse with you of the Earth's doom.

Scip.
'Tis granted; where's the place?

Mah.
On Zama's Plain,
Attended only with five hundred Men;
Soon as the Morn's first blushes shall appear,
Expect the terrour of your Armies there.

[Exit.
Scip.
Wou'd it were done, the great decision made;
Rome crown'd, and in the dust great Carthage laid.

Enter Trebellius.
Treb.
Laurels, and all the Trophees conquest yields,
Colours and Standards, bought with blood in fields,
King Massinißa does to Scipio send,
His Godlike Master, and his Warlike Friend.

Scip.
Relate in brief the progress of his Arms.

Treb.
Soon as King Syphax heard our dread alarms,
He sent some Troops of Horse abroad to scout;
Which were by equal numbers put to rout:
Urg'd with despair, and by his charming Wife,
Whose beauty has been fatal to his life,
He came in person forth, to end the strife.
Our Battails joyn'd, and fiercly it was fought,
Till to the last extreams our Troops were brought,
When Massinissa more then Man appear'd,
And with his overflowing valour clear'd
Those mighty odds which first our Souldiers tear'd.

Scip.
Some wond'rous Act of fortitude was shown,
Which could re-settle Troops half overthrown.

Treb.
Where e're our General turn'd, death mark'd his look,
And whom he ey'd with his cold Arrow strook;
Like some vast flame he made his glorious way,
And all about him desolation lay.
Syphax whose name he made to Heaven resound,
With cryes of ecchoing Joyes at last he found,
Trembling though with his Guards encompass'd round;
Swift as revenge could dart he on him flew,
Whom from his Horse with his hands force he drew,
And pierc'd his heart in both the Armies view:
Which seen, with one consent the Souldiers fled,
As if all hopes were with their Monarch dead.

Scip.
Cirta should after such a loss in course,
Surrender to the Victor's dreaded force.

Treb.
It did, great Sir: To Massinißa now
The gravest Lords with willing homage bow;
Whereas I did amongst the formost ride,
'Twas wish'd the Queen might prove the Victor's Bride.

Scip.
I rather wish thou cou'dst not Conquest boast,
And that the King were with the Battail lost.
To Cirta Lelius instantly repair,
And make that subtle Queen our Prisoner:
If Massinißa should oppose you, say,
'Tis my Command; who swore you to obey.

[Exeunt.
Maherbal, Enter Hannibal, and Bomilcar.
Han.
My Rosalinda freed, and in my Tent?
But wherefore was that Stranger with her sent?
Thou hast a Tempest rais'd within my mind;
Speak, was this Youth so fair, and she so kind?

Bom.
Your Rosalinda's beauty did appear,
Bright as Noon day all piercing, sprightly clear:
But he who lead her, seem'd so soft and young,
As if that pity handed Love along,
And tears his blushing Cheeks did so adorn,
Me thought the Sun came usher'd by the Morn.

Han.
Cease thy unwelcom praise; what did she say?

Bom.
That she would there for your appearance stay:
I bow'd, and went; but being curious grown,
I stopp'd a while, to mark that Fair unknown:
When she with languishing intreaties said,
Is this your Love? Shall I not be obey'd?
Be gone, be gone, if Hannibal should come,
And but suspect—death were your certain doom.

Han.
Peace, Harbenger of Fate, with Ravens dwell,
Thy tale at Midnight to the dying tell:
Oh! it has pierc'd me like a poyson'd dart,
Which by degrees infects the blood and heart;
And now it higher mounts, divides my head,
Where like a plague its pointed venoms spread.
My brain ten thousand various tortures turn,
Now Agues chill me, and now Feavers burn.
Oh Rosalinda! false ungrateful Maid,
Am I for loss of glory thus repaid.
But let's away to my Pavilion lead,
That Ravisher of all my hopes shall bleed.

[Exeunt.
Enter Rosalinda, and Massina.
Ros.
Why will you stay? If you did ever love,
Let me conjure you, from this place remove.

Mass.
Permit me as your Menial Servant stay,
And near your Person sigh my life away:
Is that so much?

Ros.
It cannot, must not be,
That you should idly spend your hours with me:
You like the golden Planet of the day,
Should as you rise, all glorious set, all gay;
A generous pity does my heart subdue,
Which bids you now eternally Adieu.

Mass.
Say, your disdain.—Alas! how can I part?
Me thinks I go as if I had no heart:
But since you are resolv'd it must be so,
Near to some murmuring brook I'le lay me down;
Whose waters if they should too shallow flow,
My tears shall swell'em up that I will drown.

Enter Hannibal, Bomilcar, Asper.
Ros.
Massina stay; I strictly charge you live.

Han.
Not Heaven, nor Earth can grant him a reprieve,
Since Hannibal has vow'd that he shall die.
Bomilcar bind him, bind him instantly:
False Rosalinda!—Bear him from my sight,
And shade his beauties with Eternal night.
Is it for this at last we meet again?
Wou'd thou hadst still the Consul's Captive been.

Ros.
Oh Hannibal! can you resist my tears?
What change is this your stormy temper wears?
He shall not die: Bomilcar, Asper, stay,
'Tis I command you; dare you disobey?

Han.
Be gone, he dyes who listens to her pray'r;
Pull off his Bracelets, let him shackles wear,
With fetters fret his soft and supple skin,
Too light a pennance for so foul a sin.

[Massina is taken away.
Ros.
If Rosalinda yet has any part
[Kneels.
Left in that cruel, yet renowned heart,
This Stranger's freedom instantly enjoyn,
And you shall ever be the Lord of mine.

Han.
How darst thou plead for him, false as you are?
Falser, if possible, then thou art fair:
In his behalf no Intercession make,
His torments shall be doubled for thy sake.

Ros.
Henceforth wrong'd Innocence from Courts retreat,
Thou best, but rare Companion of the great:
Since thus abus'd, ah! visit them no more,
But rest thy sorrows at some Shepard's door.

Han.
Oh guilt! canst thou to Innocence appeal?
Who to this Youth such kindness did reveal?

Ros.
If pitty kindness be, I was most kind,
Who all my softness to his griefs resign'd;
And what, but Marble hearts cou'd see him mourn,
Yet so much sweetness with such sorrows scorn?

Han.
Pity like yours, that does so swiftly move,
Is the fore-runner of approaching Love.

Ros.
Unworthy of the honour you possess,
My passions great wou'd I cou'd make it less:
Know most unjust, and jealous, therefore vain,
For Jealousie's great weakness in great Men;
My constant Soul did for thy glory wave,
The Rich, the Young, the Beautiful, and Brave.
My charmes, the cold and temp'rate Consul felt,
Whilst beauties beams did fiercely on him play;
The frost, which long had bound his heart, did melt,
And Love like Sun-shine thaw'd his Ice away.

Han.
Your looks, me thinks, have quite another Air;
Nor doubt I but your Beauty has been try'd,
So faint loves Colours in your face appear,
Like Silks that loose their gloss with being dy'd.

Ros.
That Scipio, nor this Prince, whom cruel you
Have bound, cou'd nothing on my heart prevail,
Is as Heaven's high Decree most justly true;
And I am Innocent, as thou art frail.

Han.
Alas! 'twas Innocence, to say, begone,
If Hannibal should but suspect, you'r dead.

Ros.
Compassion, for a Love, I could not own,
Urg'd me to speak; what you have heard was said,
Therefore release him instantly from Bands,
And yield him safe into the Consul's hands,
Without delayes or murmuring free him straight;
Or may your Lawrels never more be green,
Nor may your Arms in War be fortunate,
Nor Rosalinda but with frowns be seen.

Han.
Stay, Madam.—Hast, the Captive Prince unbind;
My heart to others rough, the Souldiers crime,
As Rocks to Seas, or stubborn Oaks to wind,
Shall bow to you, as those must yield to time:
Forgive my temper, hard'ned with the steel,
In which I stood almost Immortal Man,
Till Love let fall a blow, that made me reel,
And pointed Beauty through my Armour ran;
Can you forgive the rudeness of my mind?

Ros.
Forgo your jealousie, and I'le be kind.

Enter Massina unbound.
Han.
May a rash Man, wrong'd Prince, your pardon crave?

Mass.
No, Sir, my pardon you shall never have;
For know I hate thee on a double score,
Much for thy Love, more for Tyrannick pow'r:
Princes who have like me dishonour'd bin,
Should blush to look abroad in flesh again.
Disgrac'd Massina!
Fall, dye, dispatch, to fortune's malice bow,
Thy Royal Uncle would not own thee now.
Life profer'd with the World, I wou'd not take;
Yet I could live for Rosalinda's sake:
Speak, Hannibal, wilt thou thy share resign?

Ros.
He may, but I can never part with mine.

Maß.
How never?

Ros.
Never.

Maß.
O unkind hard heart!
Love when he shot me, sure mistook his dart,
Or chang'd with death, whose quick destroying shaft;
Thus drinks my blood, thus with a full deep draught.

[Stabs himself.
Ros.
Hold, cruel Prince; the Dagger from him wrest.

Han.
Too late, alas! I drew it from his breast.

Ros.
What have you done?

Maß.
Only my Body areyn'd
Of that sick blood, which Hannibal had stain'd:
What less then death could I to honour give?
And Love neglected, charg'd me not to live.
Now you may take him, take him to you all,
This cruel, haughty, happy Hannibal.

Han.
The bus'ness of our life's a senseless thing;
Why burns th'Ambitious Man to be a King?
Or to what purpose does the Warriour call
For Arms? Or Gown-men bustle in the Hall?
Sport for the Gods, they whirl us here and there,
As Boyes blow watry bubbles in the Air.
My help!—

Mass.
Ah let me not be touch'd by thee,
If Foes may capable of pity be.
Your Rosalinda seize, and with her fly
To Gold'n Beds, Embrace her fast while I
Within my dark and dusty Dungeon lye.

[dies.
Han.
Crowds of ill boading thoughts my Soul dismay
His body to the Roman Campe convey.
Hears'd in a Mourning Chariot softly tread
And look so sad that they may think you dead.

[They bear off the Body.
Ros.
This your suspition of my honour was:
See the effects where Jealousy's the cause.
Ah cruel Victor I could curse thee now,
With all thy Lawrels blasted on thy brow.
Love sick'ns with this deed my Transports fade,
Would we were both in Earths low Cavern laid.
Curtain'd with shady horrours where the Sun:
And Stars their fiery Courses never run.
But all the business of the World is done.

[Exit.
Han.
Oh that my heart her future State cou'd find:
Know to what good or ill this lifes design'd.
Prudence against such knowledge may advise:
But who of all mankind was alwayes wise?
For the great secret to the Gods I'le go,
And if they faile me fathom for't below.
Though hid by fate under a thousand Rocks,
And drag it up by the dark Jetty locks.
Let it all gastly as a Gorgeon come,
Stiff with the view I will outgaze my Doom.

The SCENE the City of Cirta.
Enter King Massinissa and Menander.
[Trumpets sound a lofty March.
K. Mas.
Was ever victory so swiftly won:
We scarce had leisure to demand the Town.
Their Gates they opened with such hast and fear,
As if our Conquering Swords Enchanted were.

Men.
Syphax the great Usurper of your Throne:
Is to revenging Furies downwards gone.
In hells low valleys grown the darkest Weed,
And feels the stings that make Ambition bleed.

K. Mas.
Straight to the Palace bid our Forces turn,
Where Sophonisba does her losses mourn.
We'll visit that forsworne Illustrious faire,
To let her see how unconcern'd we are.

Men.
Since you have promised that you would forsake:
Why should your vertue need less tryalls make.
Love though scarce warm within your bosom pent;
Fann'd with her kindling sighs may get a vent.
Like he at which stifled in some closer space,
If any Air gets in, fires all the place.

K. Mas.
Darst thou suspect? I say it cannot be:
Has Air or its wing'd ranger liberty.
Loose like the Wind as the wide Ocean free:
My enlarged soul rouls wantonly along,
Can hear unmov'd the warbling Syren's song;
Braving her Eyes, her falshood I'll upbraid.
For those rude wrongs she on my vertue layd.

Man.
Your Majesty best knows what's fit to chuse:
I humbly offer'd what you may refuse.

K. Mas.
Perhaps my present rage I may not keep;
For she has word would make the Cruel weep.
And Charms as powerful as Circes wiles;
As ravished Virgins sighs, or Infants smiles.
But I more blind with rage then she with tears:
Mauger the Cunning which her sorrow wears,
Her hopes will laugh at, and despise her feares.

[Exeunt
SCENE, The Palace.
Enter Sephonisba Rezambe and Merna.
Seph.
Rome and the World against my life combine,
Methinks I'me still a Queen whilst this is mine.
Though Massinissa has the King or'ethrown:
And his Victorious Troops possess the Town.
Yet Sophonisba is, and shall be free,
Spight of the frighted Senators Decree.
They blush to see this life so glorious shine;
And fear their Eagle's eyes, should dazled be with mine.
Merna, if I have ought from thee deserv'd,
Be grateful thus, and thou hast nobly serv'd.

Mer.
Not for the World.

Soph.
Rezambe thou art brave,
Strike, and the Carthaginian glory save.
How will the Just, the Valiant, and the Wise;
Extol thy vertue and thy Courage prize?
Who durst the softness of thy Sex forgo;
And free thy Country with one desperate Blow.
A deed that will even Hannibal out do.

Rez.
Rather then I would live to see those hands:
Which Kings have kissed fetter'd with Roman Bands.
That body like a Pageant wretch adornd;
Graceing the victors Wheels, your greatness scorn'd.
Rather then this endure, by all that's good,
I'd bath this Dagger in your lives warm flood:
Till the haft reek'd with your hearts Royal blood.

Soph.
O thou most noble Martial worthy Maid,
If by thy eyes my soul could be survey'd.
Thou wouldst believe what cannot be exprest,
How dear thou art to Sophonisba's breast.
Thy voice like sad, but pleasing Musick flew;
Like dying Swans 'twas sweet and fatal too.
Now stricke, and bravely Act thy Tragick part:
Just here, strike through, and through this wretched heart.

Rez.
Deaths our last remedy as 'tis the worst.
'Tis fit you try the victor's mercy first.
Prince Massinissa lov'd you once, who knows,
But the same passion in his bosom glowes.
Blow it into a flame, try all your Charms:
Love laughs at Brandish'd swords and glitt'ring Arms.

Mer.
Never was man like Massinissa kind;
By nature mild, and amerously inclin'd.
Not vanquish'd Syphax dying fell so low,
As this Charm'd Prince will to your beauty bow.

Rez.
Imputed Trechery you ought to clear,
Let guilt shrink back, and Innocence appear,
I'll hide the Ponyard in my Robe, if he
Dooms you a slave, this gives you liberty.

Soph.
When breach of faith joyn'd hearts does disingage,
The Calmest temper turnes to wildest Rage.
He thinks me false, though I have been most true:
And thinking so what may his fury doe?

Rez.
His Trumpets Clangors make the Palace ring;
Here wait your fate, and this victorious King.

Enter King Massinissa Menander attendents.
K. Maß.
Madam I come to tell you that you are
No more a Queen, but Prisoner of War.
The King whose loss 'tis probable you grieve,
To whose lov'd memory those tears you give.
For Judgement is to Heaven's Tribunal gone;
And I now come to claim my Fathers Throne.
You in the War have bin unfortunate;
Not but your cause deserv'd a better fate.

Soph.
Of Empire's joyes to you a gift I make,
More willingly then I did ever take.
Freely as ever Syphax made it mine.
To Massinissa I my Crown resign.

K. Mas.
Not as your gift, Crowns I should then despise.
But as my right by Birth and valours prize.
My father Galla's Diadem i'le bear,
And all the Royalties of Circa wear.

Soph.
These springs of grief unkindness now supplies.

K. Mas.
Syphax deserv'd that tribute from your Eyes.

Soph.
There is a cause more worthy of these tears.

K. Mas.
More worthy? what then Syphax? for your sake:
Did he not fame and Empire victims make.
Gving love over measure, when at last,
He threw his life up for you as a Cast.

Soph.
If what I speak might kindly be receiv'd;
But misery can never be believ'd.

K. Mas.
Not you believ'd? O Gods is it clear day,
So manifest are all things that you say.
Not you believed? what hardned Infidel:
Shall dare to doubt the Oracles you tell?

Soph.
I will when sorrow shall permit me speak:
But sure my heart must with unkindness break,

K. Mas.
'Tis possible, yet Madam e're I go;
Express your will for I have much to do.
My men I have not plac'd, my father's Throne,
We have not fill'd, I must, I must begone.
Menander do we triumph.

Men.
Bravely Sir,
All like your self, and more then Conquerour.

Rez.
Merna we're lost with what a haughty scorn,
He turns away and smiles to see her mourn.

Soph.
Are you not Massinissa call'd?

K. Mas.
I am.

Soph.
Have you not heard of Sophinisba's name?
She who unmov'd your high disdain endures;
Yet Sophonisba who was always yours.

K. Mas.
Oh heavens!

Soph.
Whom wasting cares did all the day devour,
Who watch'd all night, counting each tedious hour:
And never found that there were joyes in power.

K. Mas.
Ha! Sophonisba! yes I knew her well;
That Angel fair, and lov'd her er'e she fell.
Oh Sophonisba, hadst thou but a mind
Half beauteous as the case where 'tis inshrin'd.
Thou wert but she is dangerous to name:
My reasons snatch'd by my tempestuous flame.
Menander help—
Or I shall sink in th'abiss of thought,
My vowes, my friendship, glory, all forgot.
As when we lanch into the Sea, the land
Goes backward with the trees, and all the neighbouring strand.

Men.
Be gone my Lord, you're ruined if you stay.

K. Mas.
What from the vanquish'd shall we run away.

Mern.
Still there's some hopes, since at her name he shook,
And now he eyes her with a kindling look.

Rez.
With that last Glance methought love shot him there.

K. Mas.
Yes Madam this is Massinissa here:
I am (to thy Confusion be it known.)
A walking Grave with sorrows overgrown,
With rooted cares and every baneful weed,
That nightly watchings and pale troubles breed.
Once I was free from these and flourish'd fair,
Like a tall tree I blossom'd in the air.
My cheerful friends like birds about me sung;
Free from the Charms of thy deceiptful tongue.
And ripening hopes blooming around me hung,
Till thou fair Murd'ress didst like lightning fall.
And blasted blossoms, branches, root, and all.

Soph.
O Massinissa hear I this from thee?

K. Mas.
'Tis equally a truth from him or me;
Or any here—why Madam not from me.
But if my presence should a trouble prove,
I will for ever from your sight remove.

Soph.
Stay, Massinissa, stay, my life, my soul;
Why do your eyes with such strange motion roul?
Your fury in this heart that loves you hide.

K. Mas.
Where does that searcher of the soul recide:
Who through blind tracks finds out a womans heart?
Loe here's a bar, a stop to all his Art,
Who wou'd not swear that such a love was true?

Soph.
Do I not love you? By the Gods I do.

K. Mas.
Oh thou dissembler! once this wou'd have done,
But all thy practis'd wiles at last are known.
Just so she talk'd, and so she wept before,
And with that beauteous honest look she swore:
Gods If I stay, I shall believe again,
Farewell thou greatest pleasure, greatest pain.

Soph.
By all our loves, this cannot, must not be;
Those cruel words could not be meant to me.
To me who love you with a heart entire,
A flame more lasting then the vestall's fire,
To me who am indeed all one desire.
Ah Prince thy love is all my light and health;
The treasure I would hoord, my only wealth:
Take not that from me.

K. Mas.
'Tis but vain delay.

Soph.
Unkindly urg'd why do you turn away?
[kneels.
You shall not go till you have left me dead;
My tears till now were never vainly shed.
O hear my sighs, my vows, ye powers above,
If any power like me could ever love.
Let loose your fires and thaw this frozen heart,
And thou dread God of love trie every dart:
You shannot stir.

K. Mas.
What means this rising flood.

[weeps.
Soph.
Nature will start at such ingratitude:
Revenge on after ages this disgrace,
And only Monsters make of humane race:
Inhumane thou.

K. Mas.
She shall not, yet she shall;
She grasps my heart, and cryes she'l have it all.
'Tis so, her eyes restless magick bear,
Angels I see, and Gods are dancing there.
Rise Madam, rise, each sigh, each softning glance;
Lulls my loud wrongs, I'm hush'd, and in a trance.

Men.
His sighs flow from him with so strong a Gale,
As if his soul would through his lipsexhale.

Soph.
Cou'd you be thus? on your poor Mistriss frown,
What was my fault, alas what have I done?

K. Mas.
Nothing, why nothing, only this thou art,
My life, my soul, my spirits blood and heart.
Whose hands least thirlling touch does please above;
The very act of any other love.
Gods how she Charms, none sure was e're like thee:
Nor wild as I, stormes borrow rage of me.
But thou art soft, and sweet, and silent all,
As births of Roses or as blossoms fall.

Soph.
This Rose that sticks so near your heart will fade,
When planted by your hand in death's cold shade.

K. Mas.
By mine? Not savages would harm thy breast;
On whose refreshing pillowes, Jove might rest:
And with Immortal sweets be ever blest.
So fair 'tis well thou art not faithful too;
I cou'd not bear my bliss if thou wert true.

Soph.
Think me not false though I did Syphax wed,
Who ever was a stranger to my bed.
Forc'd by my Father's positive command;
I must confess I suffer'd him my hand.
Heaven curse me if I ever granted more,
Cou'd I be his having bin yours before?

K. Mas.
Why do you stop? still as statue lo,
I stand, nor shall the wind presume to blow.
Speak, and it shall be night not one shall dare;
To sigh though on the Rack he tortured were,
Nor for his foul whisper a dying prayer.

Soph.
Make your love long, and let it burn less fast,
These sudden raptures are to hot to last.

K. Mas.
Right Madam long if we such joyes should feel:
The furious transports of delight would kill.
Menander to the Temple lead away,
By my clear fame this is our Marriage day.

Soph.
Your fame does far above all Censure sir,
Free from the taunts of low repining Wi't.
Kings though they err should never be arraign'd,
But if I yield, my glory will be stain'd.
What will the World report of such a Bride,
Who married the same day her Husband dy'd.

K. Mas.
Since Scipio is your mortal Enemy;
It must be so upon necessity.
Who yet will not molest you being mine.

Soph.
Then to the Gods let me my breath resigne.

K. Mas.
Can you consent rather then be my wife,
To hazard honour liberty and life.

Soph.
But sir.

K. Mas.
But Madam say what you can say;
You ought not, must not, and I cannot stay,
One minute more casts both our lives away.

Soph.
Know mighty Prince I was, and am the same,
And though the world this Act may justly blame,
I will be yours, and in that way you name.
But first by all the Gods and glory swear,
Rather then yield me up Rome's Prisoner.
That you some fatal token will present,
To free me from Inglorious punishment.

K. Mas.
I swear by Heaven, by Glory, and by Arms,
By somthing more, and by your own conquering Charm.
You shall be ever from the Romans free;
Or I by death will give you liberty.

Soph.
Now lead me where you please.

K. Mas.
A tast of bliss.
The God of marriage seal our vowes with this,
[kisses her
Nectar, and flames the sweets of Hybla grow,
About her lips ambrosiall Odours flow.
Let melancholy Monarch Councel take,
Wed by advice and sullen Nuptials make.
But I prefer what thus my Arms infold,
To all the wealth that Earth or Seas can hold,
To Rocks of Diamonds, or to hills of Gold.
Spight of proud Rome and all her haughty men,
She was my Mistriss, and shall be my Queen.