University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Lælius, Syphax.
Lælius.
Syphax! alas, how fallen! how chang'd! from what
I here beheld thee once in pomp, and splendor;
At that illustrious interview, when Rome
And Carthage met beneath this very roof,
Their too great generals, Asdrubal and Scipio,
To court thy friendship. Of the same repast
Both gracefully partook, and both reclin'd
On the same couch: for personal distaste
And hatred seldom burn between the brave.
Then the superiour virtues of the Roman
Gain'd all thy heart. Even Asdrubal himself,
With admiration struck and just despair,
Own'd him as dreadful at the social feast
As in the battle. This thou may'st remember;
And how thy faith was given before the Gods,
And sworn and seal'd to Scipio; yet how false
Thou since has prov'd, I need not now recount:
But let thy sufferings for thy guilt attone,
The captive for the king. A Roman tongue
Scorns to pursue the triumph of the sword,
With mean upbraidings.

Syphax.
Lælius, 'tis too true.
Curse on the cause!

Lælius.
But where is Masinissa?
The brave young victor, the Numidian Roman!
Where is he? that my joy, my glad applause,
From envy pure, may hail his happy state.
Why that contemtuous smile?

Syphax.
Too credulous Roman,
I smile to think how that this Masinissa,
This Rome-devoted heroe, must still more
Attract thy praises by a late exploit.
In every thing successful.

Lælius.
What is this?
These public shouts? A strange unusual joy
O'er all the captive city blazes wide.
What wanton riot reigns to night in Cirtha?
Within these conquer'd walls?

Syphax.
This, Lælius, is
A night of triumph o'er my conqueror,
O'er Masinissa.

Lælius.
Masinissa! How?

Syphax.
Why he to night is married to my queen.

Lælius.
Impossible!—

Syphax.
Yes, she, the fury! she,
Who put the nuptial torch into my hand,
That set my throne, my palace, and my kingdom,
All in a blaze—she now has seiz'd on him.
Will turn him soon from Rome—I know her power,
Her lips distil unconquerable poison.
O glorious thought!—will sink this hated youth,
Will crush him deep, beneath the mighty ruins
Of falling Carthage.

Lælius.
Can it be? Amazement!

Syphax.
Nay learn it from himself.—He comes—Away!
Ye furies snatch me from his sight! For hell,
Its tortures all are gentle to the presence
Of a triumphant rival?

Lælius.
What is man?