University of Virginia Library

Scene V.

—Night—the camp of Hasdrubal on the banks of the Metaurus.
Enter Hasdrubal, from his tent, to watch the sky.
Hasd.
When will the morning break? O thou dark cloud,
Thou hid'st the destinies of Hasdrubal!
Where is the streak of fire which should creep up
To crest thy sable helmet, and cast forward
Light o'er the waters I must cross so soon?
Oh, through the wild gloom of my mournful march,
Perplexed, entangled in the dreary woods,
How did mine ear, strained through the night's long rain,
Oft fancy that it caught thy voice, my brother!
What if I never hear it any more?
What if Metaurus from this time become
A name at which all Carthage shall turn pale?
What means this deep farewell that swells my breast?
Why does my city of the waters now
Rise like a mourning mother through the dark,
And look upon me as with streaming eyes?
You drunken savages outstretched around me,
What are Hamilcar's sons to you, or what
Care you if we should never look on Rome?

Enter Carthalo.
Carth.
Is it thou, Hasdrubal?

Hasd.
Good morrow, friend.

Carth.
I cannot for the darkness see thy face,
And yet I see that thou art sad.

Hasd.
With cause,
For I am farther all these miles from Rome
Than I was yesterday.

Carth.
Thou hast not slept;
Thy spirit has not rested from its troubles.

Hasd.
These fellows here do take their fill of rest.
They sleep as they would never wake again.

Carth.
See, a faint twilight from the dawn steals on;
'Tis time, indeed, that we should find our ford,
If we would cross before the consuls reach us.
But how to rouse these Gauls from their deep slumber,
Drunk as they are with weariness and wine?
They heed not now the voice of any man,
Not if the enemy were on our camp,
Could Hannibal himself compel them forth.
Why dost thou draw that ring from off thy finger?
What wilt thou do with it?

Hasd.
I must destroy it,
For should there come a battle, and I fall,
And should my body in their hands remain,
This, mine own signet, stamped on a forged letter,
Might ruin Hannibal. Marcellus' death
Has taught that lesson to me.

Carth.
Hasdrubal,
Why will you talk thus?

Hasd.
Think not I despair,
But, cut off thus from my allies and friends,
By overpowering numbers, 'tis my part
To make provision for all casualties.
I will not trust to any hiding-place
For this so dangerous and priceless treasure.
When in the Spanish wars my father fell,
I, but a lad then, drew from his dead hand
This signet-ring, and placed it on my own.
Long have I worn it, but the time has come
When I must stamp it, with this heel of mine,
Into as many atoms as I would
Stamp down the walls of Rome. One little moment—
One moment more, and it is gone for ever.

Carth.
I grieve that thou shouldst do this—yet, perhaps,
'Twere best to do so.

Hasd.
Relic of Hamilcar!
Never be thou corrupted to the use
Of the accursed race! Ring that his son
Has worn through years of warfare, never seal
My Hannibal's destruction! [Stamps upon it.]


Carth.
Oh, my friend,
Be this no omen of thy fate, or his.

Hasd.
Ha, the day breaks at last! The dawn! the dawn!
Now for our march—let us but find at last
The ford we have missed so long.

[Trumpets sound, and the camp begins to stir.]
Carth.
Would those brute Gauls
Wake from their drunken sleep!

Hasd.
Come, then, Carthalo!

Carth.
Hear'st thou? Here comes a breathless messenger.

Enter a Numidian Horseman.
Num.
My lord, the enemy is come in sight.
His cavalry is gaining fast upon us.

Hasd.
To battle, then—no other choice remains.
At least the Spanish Foot and the Ligurians
Are fit for fight; and even of these Gauls
Some even now are rousing them from sleep.
And if we win—why, then we need no ford.

Carth.
And if we lose this day, may I not live,
Son of Hamilcar! to behold another,
But perish like a soldier by thy side.

Hasd.
The purple clouds array themselves in haste,
With dreadful glory, like two armies fighting.—
Bid trumpets blow, and let us try our luck.

[Exeunt Hasdrubal and Carthalo.