University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Scipio, Lælius.
Scipio.
Poor Masinissa, Lælius, is undone;
Betwixt his passion and his reason tost
In miserable conflict.

Lælius.
Entering, Scipio,
He shot athwart me, nor vouchsaf'd one look.
Hung on his clouded brow I mark'd despair,
And his eye glaring with some dire resolve.
Fast o'er his cheek too ran the hasty tear.
It were great pity that he should be lost!

Scipio.
By heavens! to lose him were a shock, as if
I lost thee, Lælius, lost my dearest brother,
Bound up in friendship from our infant years.
A thousand lovely qualities endear him,
Only too warm of heart.

Lælius.
What shall be done?

Scipio.
Here let it rest, till time abates his passion.
Nature is nature, Lælius, let the Wise
Say what they please. But now perhaps he dies.—
Haste! haste! and give him hope—I have not time
To tell thee what.—Thy prudence will direct—
Whatever is consistent with my honour,
My duty to the publick, and my friendship
To him himself, say, promise, shall be done.
I hope returning reason will prevent
Our farther care.

Lælius.
I fly with joy.

Scipio.
His life
Not only save, but Sophonisba's too:
For both I fear are in this passion mixt.

Lælius.
It shall be done.