SOPHONISBA

Can thy sense distinguish? See Syphax, thus I deign to show thee that Kings have been proud to worship. Although my difference Might challenge more, I'm not ambitious Of shallow praise. My spirit must fly high To catch at fame, not flattery. I did: but not to think All your expressions (though they were extended Beyond my wish) can merit it. Were you more, I am above addition in my self: And should be lessened if I did confine A thought to any person, and the act Included nothing but bore satisfaction Of a desire. I will not let a smile Fallen loosely from me, but shall be attended By actions worth their history; which read Shall with the apprehension of my greatness Amaze posterity. I hei'r pretty baits To catch and easy wanton, whose dull earth A little varnish'to're does know it self No farther then the superficial tincture Discovered in her glass. I have a soul Greater then Syphax Kingdom: and to bound it Would take from what I am. It'll be your honour Above all that your ambition can direct you To hope for (next eternity) If I Vouchsafe to add unto your petty royalty My greater self; and the addition be Greater then you can purchase by your conquests. It's but her endue when Sophonisba crav's World's for her Kingdoms, their Kings for her slaves. Should Syphax make a resignation Of all he own's for me; 'twere but as if He pared a mol-hill from the earth, to place And Atlas in its stead. O Massinissa. Yes; your fortune Wh it's at hight: but the least declination Waving it to and ebb, I from that fallen Must mount to higher honours, if a gale Meet it to raise me. He was A man made up of fire; no gross earth clogged His spirit when 'twould mount to honours top, And load same with his acts. Had he not falln From Carthage, Sophonisba had but been The price of his desert. And yet I love him. Dear Massinissa! This circumstance would seem To prepare something that should have relation Unto your self or me. Perhaps the Consul Hath urged that I should be delivered up To Rome's disposing. Massanissas vow Made with religious ceremony cannot If he respect the gods consent to it. And rather then their tyranny should make me Wretched a new, to my first earth return me, The worst remains of Sophonisba. And meet the instrument With greater cherefalnesse, then fondest parents Can show at the return of their decree child From long captivity. This tender frame Lodgeth a masculine and heroic spirit. And if thy passionate love deny's thy self To be the Actor in this benefit, Give me thy sword; my own right hand shall guide The point unto my heart: I'll without trembling Open a passage for the crimson drops; And smile to see them diaper the pavement, As if't were some conceited workmanship Made by the lookers sancie. Sure it's poison. Will Massinissa leave me then unguarded To Scipios violence? I have here no father Nor uncle to defend me; not so much As a poor tear by weeping to stir up A Romans pity: I shall only dart And anger from my burning eye, to show The Carthaginian spirit I was born with, Which not with standing will not quit this partly From a captivity: this Scipios rage Will hurry in his triumph to be gazed at, And scorned by the course rabble. Do not then By such a keeping of it break thy vow; For it's no less to me. I must still want The benefice of such a constancy. For though himself live not to yield me up I am exposed to't, and without least power To make resistance. Let me then partake That means of best security If my Lord be then Resolved to leave me widowed, being yet Scarce warm in his embraces, let me mix A tear with his last drink, that he may carry Something of Sophonisba with him. Why does Massinissa Invoke vain aid? The gods are merciful In their denying it: and it's but justice That I should die; m'adulterous easiness Deserved it, that without the least resistance Left my yet living husband to embrace His enemy. But it had warrant from The end, my Countries good, and the first love I bore thee Massinissa. Now let Scipio Boast of his conquest; Sophonisba is Her own subverter. It begin's to work With a full strength: my blood would serve to heat A Salamander, and convert his ice Into a flame. Aetna's but painted fire To that which burn's my marrow. Yet my looks Are cheerful and erected. Victory Was never met more joyfully, then I Embrace that death prevents my misery. My weak earth totters underneath a weight That sink's it downwards: my still living spirit Rid's upon clouds to reach Jove's highest sky. Who fear not death, but in the worst partly die. Die's. Why is my Lord Thus cloudy? I expected entertainment Of other difference; such as cheerful love Present's desire with from the interchange Of smiles and amorous glances. Is that the argument Of your dejectedness? it shew's too much Of woman's weakness. Man should have a spirit Above the fear any consideration Can work within him. Death is but and entrance To our eternity: and if our life Merit a blessedness hereafter, we Should run with joy to meet it. Let my Lord first give me leave to breath And errant over it; that when he is entered Ely sium, throngs of Carthaginian Heroes May bid him welcome, and inform themselves From him of Sophonisba. If there be Fate, Why is't concealed? The revelation of to Would make us strive to mock eternal providence, Th'ingenious Artist that did form this cup Foresaw not such a use of't. Had he known It should have ministered death to a King, His trembling hands could never have finished it With such exactness. What so ever decree Is written in the Adamantine Tables Of Destiny, we must subscribe to. Time Though he keep on his swift and silent pace, Death's sure at first or last to win the raze. Pray keep out Scipio: I have almost ended. So— Drink's.