SCENE III.

_Cirta._

_Cornets afar off sounding a charge. A soldier wounded at one door. Enter at the other_ SOPHONISBA, _two Pages before her with lights, two women bearing up her train_.

_Sol._ Princess, O fly! Syphax hath lost the day, And captived lies. The Roman legions Have seiz'd the town, and with inveterate hate Make slaves, or murder all. Fire and steel, Fury and night, hold all. Fair Queen, O fly! We bleed for Carthage, all for[382] Carthage die!

[_Exit._

_Cornets sounding a march. Enter Pages with javelins and targets._ MASSINISSA _and_ JUGURTH; MASSINISSA'S _beaver shut_.

_Mass._ March to the palace.

_So._ Whate'er man thou art, Of Libya thy fair arms speak, give heart To amazed weakness; hear her, that for long time Hath seen no wishèd light. Sophonisba, 10 A name for misery much known, 'tis she Entreats of thy graced sword this only boon:-- Let me not kneel to Rome; for though no cause Of mine deserves their hate, though Massinissa Be ours to heart, yet Roman generals Make proud their triumphs with whatever captives. O 'tis a nation which from soul I fear, As one well knowing the much-grounded hate They bear to Asdrubal and Carthage blood; Therefore with tears that wash thy feet, with hands 20 Unused to beg, I clasp thy manly knees: O save me from their fetters and contempt, Their proud insults and more than insolence! Or, if it rest not in thy grace of breath To grant such freedom, give me long-wish'd death; For 'tis not now loath'd life that we do crave,-- Only an unshamed death and silent grave, We will now deign to bend for.

_Mass._ Rarity!

[MASSINISSA _disarms his head_.

By thee and this right hand, thou shalt live free!

_So._ We cannot now be wretched.

_Mass._ Stay the sword! 30 Let slaughter cease; sounds soft as Leda's breast

[_Soft music._

Slide through all ears. This night be love's high feast.

_So._ O'erwhelm me not with sweets; let me not drink Till my breast burst, O Jove, thy nectar-skink.[383]

[_She sinks into_ MASSINISSA'S _arms_.

_Mass._ She is o'ercome with joy!

_So._ Help--help to bar[384] Some happiness, ye powers! I have joy to spare, Enough to make a god! O Massinissa!

_Mass._ Peace! A silent thinking makes full joys increase!

_Enter_ LÆLIUS.

_Læ._ Massinissa!

_Mass._ Lælius!

_Læ._ Thine ear.

_Mass._ Stand off.

_Læ._ From Scipio thus: by thy late vow of faith, 40 And mutual league of endless amity, As thou respects his virtue, or Rome's force, Deliver Sophonisba to our hand.

_Mass._ Sophonisba?

_Læ._ Sophonisba.

_So._ My lord Looks pale, and from his half-burst eyes a flame Of deep disquiet breaks. The gods turn false My sad presage!

_Mass._ Sophonisba?

_Læ._ Even she.

_Mass._ She kill'd not Scipio's father, nor his uncle, Great Cneius.

_Læ._ Carthage did!

_Mass._ To her what's Carthage?

_Læ._ Know 'twas her father Asdrubal strook[385] off 50 His father's head. Give place to faith and fate!

_Mass._ 'Tis cross to honour.

_Læ._ But 'tis just to state. So speaketh Scipio. Do not thou detain A Roman prisoner, due to this great triumph, As thou shalt answer Rome and him.

_Mass._ Lælius, We now are in Rome's power. Lælius, View Massinissa do a loathèd act, Most sinking from that state his heart did keep. Look, Lælius, look, see Massinissa weep! Know I have made a vow, more dear to me 60 Than my soul's endless being, she shall rest Free from Rome's bondage!

_Læ._ But dost thou forget Thy vow, yet fresh, thus breath'd: _When I desist To be commanded by thy virtue, Scipio, Or fall from friend of Rome, revenging gods, Afflict me with your torture!_

_Mass._ Lælius, enough.

_Læ._ Salute the Roman, tell him we will act What shall amaze him.

_Læ._ Wilt thou yield her then?

_Mass._ She shall arrive there straight.

_Læ._ Best fate of men To thee.

_Mass._ And Scipio.--Have I lived, O heavens, 70

[_Exit_ LÆLIUS _with pages._

To be enforcedly perfidious?

_So._ What unjust grief afflicts my worthy lord?

_Mass._ Thank me, ye gods, with much beholdingness; For mark, I do not curse you.

_So._ Tell me, sweet, The cause of thy much anguish.

_Mass._ Ha, the cause? Let's see: wreathe back thine arms, bend down thy neck, Practise base prayers, make fit thyself for bondage.

_So._ Bondage!

_Mass._ Bondage--Roman bondage!

_So._ No, no!

_Mass._ How then have I vow'd well to Scipio?

_So._ How then to Sophonisba?

_Mass._ Right, which way? 80 Run mad!--impossible!--distraction!

_So._ Dear lord, thy patience; let it maze all power, And list to her in whose sole heart it rests To keep thy faith upright.

_Mass._ Wilt thou be slaved?

_So._ No, free.

_Mass._ How then keep I my faith?

_So._ My death Gives help to all. From Rome so rest we free; So brought to Scipio, faith is kept in thee.

_Mass._ Thou darest not die--some wine!--thou darest not die!

_Enter a Page with a bowl of wine._

_So._ How near was I unto the curse of man. Joy! How like was I yet once to have been glad! 90 He that ne'er laugh'd may with a constant face Contemn Jove's frown: happiness makes us base.

[_She takes the bowl, into which_ MASSINISSA _puts poison_.

Behold me, Massinissa, like thyself, A king and soldier; and I prithee keep My last command.

_Mass._ Speak, sweet.

_So._ Dear, do not weep. And now with undismay'd resolve behold, To save you--you (for honour and just faith Are most true gods, which we should much adore), With even disdainful vigour I give up An abhorr'd life. You have been good to me, 100

[_She drinks._

And I do thank thee, heaven! O my stars, I bless your goodness, that with breast unstain'd, Faith pure, a virgin wife, tried to my glory, I die, of female faith the long-lived story; Secure from bondage and all servile harms, But more--most happy in my husband's arms.

[_She sinks._

_Ju._ Massinissa, Massinissa!

_Mass._ Covetous, Fame-greedy lady, could no scope of glory, No reasonable proportion of goodness, Fill thy great breast, but thou must prove immense 110 Incomprehence in virtue! What, wouldst thou Not only be admired, but even adored? O glory ripe for heaven! Sirs, help, help, help! Let us to Scipio with what speed you can; For piety make haste, whilst yet we are man.

[_Exeunt, bearing_ SOPHONISBA _in a chair_.

[382] Ed. 1. "of."

[383] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "O Ioue thy Nectar, thinke." ("Nectar-skink"--draught of nectar.)

[384] Old eds. "beare," but the sense clearly requires "bar" (pronounced "bear" to rhyme with "spare"). We have twice had the word "bar" spelt "beare" earlier in the present play.

[385] Ed. 2. "struck."