University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Masinissa
alone.
In vain I wander thro' the shade for peace;
'Tis with the calm alone, the pure of heart,
That there the goddess talks—But in my breast
Some busy thought, some secret-eating pang,
Throbs inexpressible; and rowls from—What?
From charm to charm, on Sophonisba still
Earnest, intent, devoted all to her.
Oh it must out!—'Tis love, almighty love!
Returning on me with a stronger tide.
I'll doubt no more, but give it up to love.
Come to my breast, thou rosy-smiling god!
Come unconfin'd! bring all thy joys along,
All thy soft cares, and mix them copious here.
But why invoke I thee? Thy power is weak,
To Sophonisba's eye, thy quiver poor,
To the resistless lightning of her form;
And dull thy bare insinuating arts,
To the sweet mazes of her flowing tongue.
Quick, let me fly to her; and there forget
This tedious absence, war, ambition, noise,
Even friendship's self, the vanity of fame,
And all but love, for love is more than all!

SCENE II.

Masinissa, Narva.
Masinsssa.
Welcome again, my friend,—Come nearer, Narva;
Lend me thine arm, and I will tell thee all,
Unfold my secret heart, whose every pulse
With Sophonisba beats.—Nay hear me out—
Swift, as I mus'd, the conflagration spread;
At once too strong, too general, to be quench'd.
I love, and I approve it, doat upon her,
Even think these minutes lost I talk with thee.
Heavens! what emotions have possess'd my soul!
Snatch'd by a moment into years of passion.

Narva.
Ah Masinissa!—

Masinissa.
Argue not against me.
Talk down the circling winds that lift the desart;
And, touch'd by Heaven, when all the forests blaze,
Talk down the flame, but not my stronger love.
I have for love a thousand thousand reasons,
Dear to the heart, and potent o'er the soul.
My ready thoughts all rising, restless all,
Are a perpetual spring of tenderness;
Oh! Sophonisba! Sophonisba! oh!

Narva.
Is this deceitful day then come to nought?
This day, that set thee on a double throne?
That gave thee Syphax chain'd, thy deadly foe?
With perfect conquest crown'd thee, perfect glory?
Is it so soon eclips'd? and does yon sun,
Yon setting sun, who this fair morning saw thee
Ride through the ranks of long extended war,
As radiant as himself; with every glance
Wheeling the pointed files; and, when the storm.
Began, beheld thee tread the rising surge
Of battle high, and drive it on the foe;
Does he now, blushing, see thee sunk so weak?
Caught in a smile? the captive of a look?
I cannot name it without tears.

Masinissa.
Away!
I'm sick of war, of the destroying trade,
Smooth'd o'er, and gilded with the name of glory.
Thou need'st not spread the martial field to me;
My happier eyes are turn'd another way,
Behold it not; or, if they do, behold it
Shrunk up, far off, a visionary scene;
As to the waking man appears the dream.

Narva.
Or rather as realities appear,
The virtue, pomp, and dignities of life,
In sick disorder'd dreams,

Masinissa.
Think not I scorn
The task of heroes, when oppression rages,
And lawless violence confounds the world.
Who would not bleed with transport for his country,
Tear every dear relation from his heart,
And greatly die to make a people happy;
Ought not to taste of happiness himself,
And is low-soul'd indeed—But sure, my friend,
There is a time for love, or life were vile!
A sickly circle of revolving days,
Led on by hope, with senseless hurry fill'd,
And clos'd by disappointment. Round and round,
Still hope for ever wheels the daily cheat;
Impudent hope! unjoyous madness all!
Till love comes stealing in, with his kind hours,
His healing lips, his cordial sweets, his cares.
Infusing joy, his joys ineffable!
That make the poor account of life compleat,
And justify the Gods.

Narva.
Mistaken Prince,
I blame not love. But—

Masinissa.
Slander not my passion.
I've suffer'd thee too far.—Take heed, old man.—
Love will not bear an accusation, Narva.

Narva.
I'll speak the truth, when truth and friendship call,
Nor fear thy frown unkind.—Thou hast no right
To Sophonisba; she belongs to Rome.

Masinissa.
Ha! she belongs to Rome.—'Tis true—My thoughts
Where have you wander'd, not to think of this?
Think e'er I promis'd? e'er I lov'd?—Confusion!
I know not what I say—I should have lov'd,
Tho' Jove in muttering thunder had forbid it.
But Rome will not refuse so small a boon,
Whose gifts are kingdoms; Rome must grant it sure,
One captive to my wish, one poor request,
So small to them, but oh so dear to me!
Here let my heart confide.

Narva.
Delusive love!
Thro' what wild projects is the frantick mind
Beguil'd by thee?—And think'st thou that the Romans,
The senators of Rome, these gods on earth,
Wise, steady to the right, severely just,
All incorrupt, and like eternal fate
Not to be mov'd, will listen to the sigh
Of idle love? They, when their country calls,
Who know no pain, no tenderness, no joy,
But bid their children bleed before their eyes;
That they'll regard the light fantastick pangs
Of a fond heart? and with thy kingdom give thee
Their most inveterate foe; from their firm side,
Like Syphax, to delude thee? and the point
Of their own bounty on themselves to turn?
Thou canst not hope it sure.—Impossible!

Masinissa.
What shall I do?—Be now the friend exerted.
For love and honour press me; love and honour,
All that is dear and excellent in life,
All that or sooths the man or lifts the heroe,
Bind my soul deep.

Narva.
Rash was your vow, my lord.
I know not what to counsel.—When you vow'd,
You vow'd what was not in your power to grant;
And therefore 'tis not binding.

Masinissa.

Narva.
And is it possible, ye Gods, that rule us!
Can Masinissa in his pride of youth,
In his meridian glory shining wide,
The light of Afric, and the friend of Scipio;
He take a woman to the nuptial bed,
Who scorn'd him for a tyrant, old, and peevish,
His rancorous foe? and gave her untouch'd bloom,
Her spring of charms to Syphax?

Masinissa.
Horrid friendship!
This, this, has thrown a serpent to my heart;
While it o'erflow'd with tenderness, with joy,
With all the sweetness of exulting love.
Now nought but gall is there, and burning poison!
Yes, it was so!—Curse on her vain ambition!
What had her medling sex to do with states?
The Business of men! For him! for Syphax!
Forsook for him! my love for his gross passion!
The thought is hell!—Oh I had treasur'd up
A world of indignation, years of scorn;
But her sad suppliant witchcraft sooth'd it down.
Where is she now? That it may burst upon her;
Bear her unbounded from me, down the torrent,
Far, far away! And tho' my plighted faith,
Shall save her from the Romans, yet to tell her,
That I will never, never see her more!
Ha! there she comes.—Pernicious fair one!—Leave me.

SCENE III.

Sophonisba, Masinissa.
Sophonisba.
Forgive this quick return.—The rage, confusion,
And mingled passions of this luckless day,
Made me forget another warm request
I had to beg of generous Masinissa;
For oh to whom, save to the generous, can
The miserable fly?—But much disturb'd
You look, and scowl upon me a denial.
Repentance frowns on your contracted brow.
Already, weary of my sinking fate,
You seem to droop; and for unhappy Syphax
I shall implore in vain.

Masinissa.
For Syphax? vengeance!
And canst thou mention him? Oh grant me breath!

Sophonisba.

Masinissa.

Sophonisba.
Ah! whence this sudden storm? this madness,
That hurries all thy soul?

Masinissa.
And dost thou ask?
Ask thy own faithless heart; snatch'd from my Vows,
From the warm wishes of my springing youth,
And given to that old hated monster, Syphax.
Perfidious Sophonisba!

Sophonisba.
Nay no more.
With too much truth I can return thy charge.
Why didst thou drive me to that cruel choice?
Why leave me, with my country, to destruction?
Why break thy love? thy faith? and join the Romans?

Masinissa.
By heavens! the Romans were my better genius,
Sav'd me from fate, and form'd my youth to glory;
But for the Romans I had been a savage,
A wretch like Syphax, a forgotten thing,
The tool of Carthage.

Sophonisba.
Meddle not with Carthage,
Impatient youth, for that I will not bear;
Tho' here I were a thousand fold thy slave.
Not one base word of Carthage—on thy soul!

Masinissa.
How vain thy phrenzy! Go, command thy slaves,
Thy fools, thy Syphaxes; but I will speak,
Speak loud of Carthage, call it false, ungenerous,
—Yet shall I check me, since it is thy country?
While the Romans are the light, the glory—

Sophonisba.
Romans!
Perdition on the Romans!—and almost
On the too—Romans are the scourge
Of the red world, destroyers of mankind,
The ruffians, ravagers of earth; and all
Beneath the smooth dissimulating mask
Of justice, and compassion; as if slave
Was but another name for civiliz'd.
All vengeance on the Romans!—While fair Carthage
Unblemish'd rises on the base of commerce;
And asks of heaven nought but the general winds,
And common tides, to carry plenty, joy,
Civility, and grandeur, round the world.

Masinissa.
No more compare them! for the gods themselves
Declare for Rome.

Sophonisba.
It was not always so.
The gods declar'd for Hannibal; when Italy
Blaz'd all around him, all her streams ran blood,
All her incarnate vales were vile with death;
And when at Trebia, Thrasymone, and Cannæ,
The Carthaginion sword with Roman blood
Was drunk—Oh that he then, on that dread day,
While lifeless consternation blacken'd Rome,
Had raz'd th'accursed city to the ground,
And sav'd the world!—When will it come again,
A day so glorious, and so big with vengeance,
On those my soul abhors?

Masinissa.
Avert it heaven!
The Romans not enslave but save the world
From Carthaginian rage.—

Sophonisba.
I'll bear no more!
Nor tenderness, nor life, nor liberty,
Nothing shall make me bear it.—Perish Rome!
And all her menial friends!—Yes, rather, rather,
Detested as ye are, ye Romans, take me,
Oh pitying take me to your nobler chains!
And save me from this abject youth, your slave!
—How canst thou kill me thus?—

Masinissa.
I meant it not.
I only meant to tell thee, haughty fair one!
How this alone might bind me to the Romans;
That, in a frail and sliding hour, they snatch'd me
From the perdition of thy love; which fell,
Like baleful lightning, where I most could wish,
And prov'd destruction to my mortal foe.
Oh pleasing! fortunate!

Sophonisba.
I thank them too.
By heavens! for once, I love them; since they turn'd
My better thoughts from thee, thou—But I will not
Give thee the name, thy mean servility
From my just scorn deserves.

Masinissa.

Sophonisba.
(Pausing:)

Masinissa.
(Aside)

Sophonisba.
By thy pride she dies.
Inhuman prince!

Masinissa.
Thine is the conquest, nature!
By heaven and earth! I cannot hold it more.
Wretch that I was! to crush th'unhappy thus;
The fairest too, the dearest of her sex!
For whom my soul could dye!—Turn, quickly turn,
O Sophonisba! my belov'd! my glory!
Turn and forgive the violence of love,
Of love that knows no bounds!

Sophonisba.
And can it be?
Can that soft passion prove so fierce of heart,
As on the tears of misery, the sighs
Of death, to feast? to torture what it loves?

Masinissa.

Sophonisba.
That I must die.
For such another storm, so much contempt
Thrown out on Carthage, so much Praise on Rome,
Were worse than death. Why should I longer tire
My weary fate? The most relentless Roman
What could he more?

Masinissa.
Oh Sophonisba, hear!
See me thy suppliant now. Talk not of death.
I have no life but thee.—Alas! Alas!
Hadst thou a little tenderness for me,
The smallest part of what I feel, thou wouldst—
What wouldst thou not forgive? But how indeed
How can I hope it? Yet I from this moment,
Will so devote my being to thy pleasure,
So live alone to gain thee; that thou must,
If there is human nature in thy breast,
Feel some relenting warmth.

Sophonisba.
Well, well, 'tis past.
To be inexorable suits not slaves.

Masinissa.

Sophonisba.
What? marry thee,
This night?

Masinissa.
Thou dear one! yes, this very night,
Let injur'd Hymen have his rights restor'd,
And bind our broken vows.—Think, serious, think!
On what I plead.—A thousand reasons urge.—
Captivity dissolves thy former marriage;
And if 'tis with the meanest vulgar so,
Can Sophonisba to a slave, to Syphax,
The most exalted of her sex, be bound?
Besides it is the best, perhaps sole way,
To save thee from the Romans; and must sure
Bar their pretensions: or if ruin comes,
To perish with thee is to perish happy.

Sophonisba.
Yet must I still insist.—

Masinissa.
It shall be so.
I know thy purpose; it would plead for Syphax.
He shall have all, thou dearest! shall have all,
Crowns, trifles, kingdoms, all again, but thee,
But thee, thou more than all!

Sophonisba.
(Aside)
Bear witness heaven!
This is alone for Carthage.
(To him)
Gain'd by goodness,
I may be thine. Expect no love, no sighing.
Perhaps, hereafter, I may learn again
To hold thee dear. If on these terms thou canst,
Here take me, take me, to thy wishes.

Masinissa.