SCENE II.

_Neighbourhood of Utica._

_Enter_ SCIPIO _and_ LÆLIUS, _with the complements of Roman Generals before them_. _At the other door_, MASSINISSA _and_ JUGURTH. _Cornets sound marches._

_Mass._ Let not the virtue of the world suspect Sad Massinissa's faith; nor once condemn Our just revolt. Carthage first gave me life; Her ground gave food, her air first lent me breath: The earth was made for men, not men for earth. Scipio, I do not thank the gods for life, Much less vile men, or earth; know, best of lords, It is a happy being, breath well famed, For which Jove sees these thus.[349] Men, be not fool'd With piety to place, tradition's fear; 10 A just man's country Jove makes everywhere.

_Sci._ Well urgeth Massinissa; but to leave A city so ingrate, so faithless, so more vile Than civil speech can name, fear not; such vice To scourge is Heaven's grateful sacrifice. Thus all confess, first they have broke a faith To the[e] most due, so just to be observed, That barbarousness itself may well blush at them: Where is thy passion? They have shared thy crown, The proper right of birth, contrived thy death: 20 Where is thy passion? Given thy beauteous spouse To thy most hated rival. Statue, not man! And last, thy friend Gelosso (man worth gods) With tortures have they rent to death.

_Mass_. O Gelosso! For thee full eyes----

_Sci._ No passion for the rest?

_Mass._ O Scipio, My grief for him may be expressed by tears, But for the rest, silence, and secret anguish Shall waste--shall waste! Scipio, he that can weep, Grieves not, like me, private deep inward drops 30 Of blood. My heart! for god's right give me leave To be a short time man.

_Sci._ Stay, prince.

_Mass._ I cease; Forgive if I forget thy presence. Scipio, Thy face makes Massinissa more than man, And here before your steady power a vow As firm as fate I make: when I desist To be commanded by thy virtue, Scipio, Or fall from friend of Rome,[350] revenging gods Afflict me with[351] your torture. I have given Of passion and of faith, my heart.

_Sci._ To counsel then; 40 Grief fits weak hearts, revenging virtue men. Thus I think fit, before that Syphax know How deeply Carthage sinks, let's beat swift march Up even to Cirta, and whilst Syphax snores With his, late thine----

_Mass._ With mine! no, Scipio; Libya hath poison, asps, knives, and too much earth To make one grave. With mine! Not; she can die. Scipio, with mine! Jove, say it, thou dost lie.

_Sci._ Temperance be Scipio's honour.

_Læ._ Cease your strife, She is a woman.

_Mass._ But she is my wife. 50

_Læ._ And yet she is no god.

_Mass._ And yet she's more: I do not praise gods' goodness, but adore; Gods cannot fall, and for their constant goodness (Which is necessited) they have a crown Of never-ending pleasures; but faint man (Framed to have his weakness made the heavens' glory), If he with steady virtue holds all siege That power, that speech, that pleasure, that full sweets, A world of greatness can assail him with, Having no pay but self-wept misery, 60 A[352] beggar's treasure-heap,--that man I'll praise Above the gods.

_Sci._ The Libyan speaks bold sense.

_Mass._ By that by which all is, proportion, I speak with thought.

_Sci._ No more.

_Mass._ Forgive my admiration: You touch'd a string to which my sense was quick. Can you but think? Do, do; my grief--my grief-- Would make a saint blaspheme! Give some relief; As thou art Scipio, forgive that I forget I am a soldier. Such woes Jove's ribs would burst: Few speak less ill that feel so much of worst.-- 70 My ear attends.

_Sci._ Before then Syphax join, With new-strength'd Carthage, or can once unwind His tangled sense from out so wild[353] amaze, Fall we like sudden lightning 'fore his eyes: Boldness and speed are all of victories.

_Mass._ Scipio, let Massinissa clip thy knees! May once these eyes view Syphax? shall this arm Once make him feel his sin? O ye gods! My cause, my cause! Justice is so huge odds, That he who with it fears, heaven must renounce 80 In his creation.

_Sci._ Beat then a close quick march! Before the morn shall shake cold dews through skies, Syphax shall tremble at Rome's thick alarms.

_Mass._ Ye powers, I challenge conquest to just arms.

[_With a full flourish of cornets, they depart._

[349] The text is corrupt.--"Sees _me_ thus" (_i.e._, see me grateful), "sees the thus" (_i.e._, incense), and "sees this use" (_i.e._, interest of thanks) are alike unsatisfactory.

[350] Old eds. "Romes."

[351] Old eds. "worth."

[352] Old eds. "And beggars treasure heapt."

[353] Ed. 2. "vilde."