University of Virginia Library

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.