University of Virginia Library

ACT. I.

Scæn. I.

Enter Hannibal, Maherbal, Bomilcar. Guards and Attendants.
Han.
Conquest with Laurels has our arms adorn'd,
And Rome in Tears of blood our anger mourn'd.
Like Gods we past the rugged Alpine hills
Melted our way and drove our hissing wheels
Through Cloudy deluges, eternall Rills.
What after ages shall with pain believe
Through burning Quarries did our passage cleave.
Hurl d dreadful Fire, and Vinegar infus'd,
Whose horrid force the Nerves of Flints unloos'd.
Made Nature start to see us root up Rocks,
And open all her Adamantine Locks.
Shake off her massy Barrs, or'e mountains go
Through Globes of Ice, and flakes of solid Snow.
On our last Elephant while we did sleep
In Arnus foggy Fenns and Marshes deep.
One light we lost, for Carthage underwent
Wars tedious toils, our Blood and spirits spent,
And all the stock of health which bounteous Nature lent.

Mah.
But what return has that slowy City made?
Admir'd by foes you were by friends betray'd.
While you abroad fam'd Battles bravely fought.
The Traitor Hanno your destruction sought,
No succours were for your assistance meant,
For still to Rome Intelligence was sent
That did the Carthaginians strength declare
Which way they past, and what their numbers were.

Bom.
By his design your Brothers death was wrought,
When he apart from you with Nero fought.
Too well that Barb'rous States-man Hanno knew
If Gallant Asdrubal should joyn with you.
The Romans cou'd no hope of safety have,
No Power on Earth cou'd their lost Empire save.
With wicked policy he therefore try'd
your two all conqu'ring armies to divide.
How fatally did his curst Plots succed?
When with your Brother all his Troops did bleed.

Han.

Han.

Bom.
Where fourscore valiant Senators we kill'd,
The blood of seventy thousand Souldiers spill'd,
And great Emilius death our Conquest swell'd.

Han.
When all with crimson slaughter cover'd o're,
We urg'd our Horses through a flood of Gore;
Whilst from the battlements of Heavens high wall,
Each God look'd down, and shook his awful head,
Mourning to see so many thousands fall,
And then look'd pale, to see us look so red.

Mah.
That was a Time worthy severest Fate,
When victory on Hills of Heroes sat,
And turn'd her eyes all blood-shot on the stray,
And laugh'd, and clapp'd her wings, and blest the day.

Han.

Bom.
Go on great Sir, their rusty Coffers burn,
Their Towring pride to desolation turn.

Mah.
How I shou'd laugh to see their Ermins smoak,
May sulph'rous flames their gorged vitals choak.

Han.
Maherbal stay, though Carthage us'd me ill,
Spight of my wrongs, she is my Country still:
My Father the great Master of our Arms,
(Who while he gave me life heard loud alarms)
Swore me Rome's foe, when in my ages bud,
Wean'd me from milk, and nurs'd up in blood,
And taught me to be obstinately good:
Rome, the Worlds Gyant Empress, to invade,
Till her bright fame should shrink into a shade,
And all her golden Spires in dust were laid.

Bom.
Carthage, and Rome, which did so long divide
The troubl'd World, to prop their weight pride,
Will brook no more each others mighty sway,
The Gods to this or that must give the day;
Since such Majestick Power to both is given,
As each might take up all the care of Heaven.

Mah.
Besides the natural hate to Rome you bear,
With Scipio, love obliges you to War,
Since Rosalinda is a Pris'ner there.
Heavens! shall he dare to keep your Love in bands?
Beauty like hers, Swords, Hands, and Hearts commands.

Han.
O my, Maherbal, thou wert alwayes kind,
See'st all my good, but to my ills art blind:
Had I by thy advice my Souldiers led,
Hot with their Joyes, and striding o're the dead,
To Rome, to Rome, my Warriour—But 'tis lost.
That hour, that did so many last hours cost,
The Gods and opportunity ride post;
Melting at Capua I'm pleasures lay,
And for a Mistriss gave the World away.

Mah.
Grudge you the World? cou'd I such hearts subdue,
Were I great Jove himself I'd give Heaven too.
But I am rough, and not for Women made,
In Natures coursest mold by Fortune laid.

Han.
Hast to the Roman Camp, Bomilcar fly,
Take Scouts along, unseen as Spirits pry,
And learn the posture of the Enemy:
Learn if thy knowledge may so happy be,
Where Rosalinda mourns for Liberty;
Seek her as thou woud'st wreaths for glories toil,
As after Conquest thou woud'st seek for spoil.

The SCENE drawn, discovers a pleasant Grotto, King Mastinissa, Massina, and Menander sitting upon a Bank: Soft Musick is heard.
K. Mas.
Since Love, the brighest Jewel of a Crown,
That fires Anbition, and adorns Renown;
That with sweet hopes do's our harsh pains beguil,
And, midst of Javelins makes the Souldier smile;
Since this great Trophies lost, quite lost to me,
What wretched things must fame, and Empire be?

Men.
Yet once your Soul was of another strain,
And still you talk'd how God-like 'twas to Reign;
In mystick Empire to be plac'd alone,
And your cheeks burn'd when you beheld a Throne,
Ev'n in your Nonage, haughty were, and bold;
And smiling wou'd your Fathers Scepter hold,
And talk'd when young, how you wou'd rule when old.

K. Mas.
Ambition then I lov'd, but now abhor.

Maß.
What is ambition, Sir?

K. Mas.
The lust of Power,
Like glory Boy, it licenses to kill,
A strong temptation, to do bravely ill;
Abait to draw the bold, and backward in,
The dear bought recompence of highest sin:
For when to death we make the conquer'd yield,
What are we, but the Murd'rors of the Field?

Men.
In gallant souls Ambition is no more,
The Bawd of Empire, or the lust of Pow'r,
Then lawful Mirth is lewdness in a Bride,
Or neatness in a Vestal Virgin Pride.

K. Mas.
Then be it so, yet I will out no more,
Since Love has wrack'd me on the long'd for shore;
Not, but I had a Soul cou'd storms outwear,
Durst against Rocks, or over Quick-sands steer:
For Love, if Venus had like Juno bid,
I durst as much as e're Alcides did:
But I am lost; nothing Massina now,
With Love's each blast, I like a Bull-rush bow:
Am I not alter'd much of late?

Mass.
Alas!
You look like wither'd Flowers, or Mountain grass.

K. Mas.
O Sophonisba, oh!

Maß
Why sighs my Lord?
Speak, for I will revenge you with my Sword,
What cruel Vulture's this, that tears your breast
Like fester'd wounds, it takes away your rest?
You will grow mad, I think; you watch all night,
And with your groans the croaking Ravens fright;
Who is it that these killing griefs has wrought,
That bends your brow, and turns you into thought?

K. Mas.
My sorrows load alass! thou canst not bear.

Mass.
Think you my Soul is capable of fear;
What is it, for your sake, I cou'd not bear.

K. Mas.
Massina, thou art all that I wou'd have;
There's nothing after thee, but a low grave:
Obdurate stubborn heart, still wilt thou hold?
Observe me, Boy, when thou shalt see me cold,
Grown by my Death a longer line of woe,
Pale as wrong'd Lovers Ghosts, that sighs below;
Then learn to curse the Author of my Fate.

Maß.
What horrid things are these, which you relate?

K. Mas.
Thee from thy Childhood I have train'd with care,
I'th'painful Discipline of tedious War:
In Mountains bred thee, and on barren sands,
And led the near the Moon, through high parch'd Lands;
Show'd thee to chace wild Bores upon the heath,
And taught thy Infant hands the Trade of death,
When I by Boccar hotly was pursu'd,
And forc'd to plunge into the rapid Flood,
Thou leap'st in after me.

Mass.
I did, my Lord:
But you forget the whirl-pool in the ford,
Where when I struggl'd, and my strength grew slack,
You dash'd my Fate, and bore me on your back;
So through the Hellespont Europa rod,
Half dead with fear, though mounted on a God.

K. Mas.
But my Massina, there's one danger more,
More dreadful then all those we past before.
Vile Women.

Mass.
Women, Sir, I oft have seen,
Dancing with Timbrels on the flowry Green,
Or like small Clouds upon the Mountains brow;
But never thought they thunder bore till now.
I know they are all black, have rowling eyes,
Thick lips, flat noses, breasts of mighty size.

K. Mas.
Thou never yet in shining Courts hast been,
Nor the fair part of Woman kind hast seen,
Who close in Affrick Palaces reside,
And from the injurious Sun their faces hide;
To whom compar'd these seem all hideous night,
But those like Cinthia's Silver Crescent, bright.

Mass.
Is it a sin to be acquainted, Sir,
With those white Maids, that are so fine, and fair?

K. Mas.
Shun'em Massina, as thou wou'dst thy Fate,
As things which by Antipathy we hate:
Not all the horrours of a bloody War,
Not Lyons, Tygers such hid sury bear;
Those appear Monsters, but these seem all mild;
None ever yet destroy'd, but still she smil'd;
They are all grief, when they appear all joy;
Like Lightning, while they glitter they destroy.
Lye down sweet youth, a fair white Woman was
Of what thou seest me now, the cruel cause;
Though clear her form appear'd, without one stain,
Bright as those Bodies which o're darkness reign,
Her Soul is blacker then the skin of Moores;
For fraud with Beauty do's his Lodging take.

Mass.
Then Beauties breast is like a bank of Flowers,
That fairly hides a foul, and ugly Snake.

K. Mas.
There not one safe, and fair—all Seas of sin,
Shou'dst thou be us'd alas! as I have bin,
'Twou'd make thee gray, hear not my Story told.

Maß.
Will Women, if they use me, make me old?

K. Mas.
I had a Mistriss once,
For her I fought, and did her cause maintain
Against the World upon the listed Plain:
The Gods too, know with what oblidging smiles,
And blushing joy, she prais'd my mighty toiles:
And when to kiss her hand I bended low,
She made it meet my lips, and prest 'em too,
All this in Publick; but from sight remov'd,
Fierce were our Joyes, and with a loose we lov'd:

Maß.
You may remember, Sir, that I was by,
Call'd as a witness to the secret tye:
Thrice we invok'd the God of Marriage there,
With rich Sabæan scents, perfum'd the Air
And utter'd sacred vows, and binding prayer.

K. Mas.
When you were gone,
And none but I left with that charming Maid,
What furious fires did my hot Nerves invade:
With open arms upon my Bliss I ran,
With pangs I grasp'd her like a dying man;
Like light and heat, incorporate we lay,
We blest the night, and curst the coming day.

Mass.
Now as I love bright Arms, the Story's fine;
Tell it all night, my Lord, the Stars will shine.

K. M.
Soon as the Birds did on the morning call,
Her brighter eyes a show'r of tears let fall.
Which in my panting bosom trickl'd down;
She prest me close, and cry'd must you be gone?
Then round my neck her snowy arms did twine,
She sigh'd; but will you for ever be mine?
Will you be true?—and then our lips did join.

Mass.
Kind pretty heart.

K. Mas.
Her last words were,
Hear me ye Gods, may I be never blest,
If Massinissa be not to this breast,
The sweetest, dearest, everlasting Guest.
Yet she, this fair, this soft deluding, she
Forgetting all her vows, forgetting me;
While I for Carthage follow'd Wars alarms,
Resign'd her self up to anothers arms.

Enter Lelius, and Varro.
Lel.
At length he's found: rise Massinissa, rise,
Shake off these Clouds that hang about your eyes:
Glorie's in view, and courts them with her call,
New storms of War like Hail around us fall.

Var.
Fury that sat at home, on massie Shields
Now heaves 'em up, and ranges through the Fields;
With all her hundred whips of wire she comes,
And drives despairing Monarchs to their Tombes.

Lel.
Syphax and Asdrubal their forces join
With Armes the Mountains, and the Vallies shine:
Ha! what unwonted Charm your Soul enchains,
Is your high blood congealed with your veins,
That from the dusty Field you thus retire,
And seek cool shades, when all the World's on fire?

Var.
Kings cast their Silks, and Armour, make their Robe
Instead of Lures, shrill Trumpets charm the Globe;
Yet you from this great Race of honour run,
Wave falling Palms, and courting Laurels shun:
Why shou'd you Sophonisba's loss bemoan,
When Syphax, who enjoyes her, cries come on?

K. Mas.
Ha! that the base Usurper did but dare
T'meet me alone, without his crowds of War.

Lel.
If you dye here so silently, you'l fall,
As if Fate knew not of your Funeral;
And cens'ring Fame will say, when you are gone,
His thred of life was by a Woman spun.
But, Varro, we mistake, this is not he,
This is some poarer on Morality;
Some studious Youth, who do's the Heav'ns survey,
And in dull science fools his life away.

K. Mas.
Awake! where hast thou been my drowsy Soul,
In Lethæ steep'd, or freezing near the Pole?
I feel her now, my benum'd limbs inspire,
My Spirits shoot, and dart, and mount up higher,
Like sparks that scatter from a kindling fire;
The Plots of Love inglorious are, and dark,
Blindly he aimes, and night is all his mark;
Like day I'le dart him through, and through, I will
To cure my honour, I my Love will kill;
Kill her my self, cut piece-meal all her charms.
War, how it sounds away, to Arms, to Arms;
Let's go where the Illustrious Scipio calls,
I'le be the first shall scale proud Carthage Walls:
Wing'd with our Glory, Come my Friends, let's fly,
To conquer bravely, or as bravely dye.

Lel.
Spoke like your self, thus we our hommage pay;
So look'd Achilles when Troy lost the day.

Var.
Fierce and majestick as young Mars you stand:
'Tis fit that look, this Africk should command.

K. Mas.
As Lovers, big with expectation, burn
My Soul to Battle, do's all fiery turn,
Swift as the Gods, in hast out strip the wind,
And leave the Courses of the day behind.
Yet stay, methinks I am uneasie still;
What real pleasure can it be to kill?

Lel.
Frail Prince! how wavering all his actions be,
By passions toss'd in Love's tempestuous Sea?
War fires the brave.

K. Mas.
Yet War contracts a guilt,
And the brave grieve when many lives are spilt:
Love like a Monarch, merciful and young,
Shedding no blood, effeminates the strong.
But War do's like a Tyrant vex us more,
And breaks those hearts, which Love did melt before.

[Exeunt.