Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,
Mounted on steeds, unused to the restraint
Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:
Give but the word, we'll snatch this damfel up,
And bear her off..

JUBA.

Can such dishoneft thoughts

Rise up in man! would'st thou seduce my youth
To do an act that would destroy my honour?

SYPHA Χ.

Gods! I could tear my beard to hear you talk!
Honour's a fine imaginary notion,

That draws in raw and unexperienced men
To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.

JUBA.

Would'st thou degrade thy prince into a ruffian !
SYPHA Χ.

The boasted ancestors of these great men,
Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruffians.
This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,
That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds
All under heav'n, was founded on a rape,

!

Your

Your Scipio's, Cæfar's, Pompey's, and your Cato's, (These gods on earth) are all the spurious brood

Of violated maids, of ravish'd Sabines.

JUBA

Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine

Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles.

SYPHA Χ.

Indeed, my Prince, you want to know the world,

You have not read mankind, your youth admires
The throws and swellings of a Roman foul,
Cato's bold flights, the extravagance of virtue.

JUBA.

If knowledge of the world makes man perfidious,

May Juba ever live in ignorance!

Gods, must I tamely bear

This arrogance unanswer'd! thour't a traitor,

:

I must appease this storm, or perish in it.

[Afide

Young prince, behold these locks that are grown white

Beneath

Beneath a helmet in your father's battles.

JUBA.

These locks shall ne'er protect thy insolence.
SYPHAX

Must one rash word, th' infirmity of age,

Throw down the merit of my better years?

This the reward of a whole life of service!

-Curse on the boy! how steddily he hears me! [Afids.

JUBA

Is it because the throne of my fore-fathers

Still stands unfill'd, and that Numidia's crown

د

Hangs doubtful yet, whose head it shall inclose,
Thou thus prefum'st to treat thy Prince with scorn?

SYPHA Χ.

Why will you rive my heart with such expressions?
Does not old Syphax follow you to war?

What are his aims? why does he load with darts
His trembling hand, and crush beneath a cask
His wrinkled brows? what is it he aspires to?
Is it not this? to shed the flow remains,
His last poor ebb of blood in your defence
JUBA.

Syphax, no more! I would not hear you talk.

SYPHA Χ.

Not hear me talk! what, when my faith to Juba,

My royal master's son, is called in question?

My Prince may strike me dead, and I'll be dumb :

1

But

But whilst I live I must not hold my tongue,
A nd languish out old age in his displeasure.

JUBA.

1

Thou know'st the way too well into my heart,

I do believe thee loyal to thy Prince.

SYPHA Χ.

What greater instance can I give? I've offer'd

To do an action, which my foul abhors,

And gain you whom you love at any price.

Was this thy motive? I have been too hasty.

SYPHAΧ.

And 'tis for this my Prince has call'd me traitor.

Sure thou mistak'st, I did not call thee so.

SYPHAX.

You did indeed, my Prince, you call'd me traitor. Nay, further, threaten'd you'd complain to Cato. Of what, my Prince, wou'd you complain to Cato? That Syphax loves you, and wou'd facrifice His life, nay more, his honour, in your service.

JUBA.

Syphax, I know thou lov'st me; but indeed,

Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far.
Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings,

The noble mind's distinguishing perfection,

That aids and strengthens virtue, where it meets her,

:

1

And And imitates her actions where she is not:

It ought not to be sported with.

By heav'ns,

SYPHA Χ.

I'm ravish'd when you talk thus, tho' you chide me!

Alas, I've hitherto been used to think

A blind officious zeal to serve my king
The ruling principle, that ought to burn
And quench all others in a fubjects heart.
Happy the people, who preserve their honour
By the same duties, that oblige their Prince !
JUBA.

Syphax, thou now begin'st to speak thyself.
Numidia's grown a scorn among the nations
For breach of public vows. Our Punic faith
Is infamous, and branded to a proverb.
Syphax, we'll join our cares, to purge away
Our country's crimes, and clear her reputation

SYPHA Χ.

Believe me, Prince, you make old Syphax weep

To hear you talk-but 'tis with tears of joy.
If e'er your father's crown adorn your brows,
Numidia will be blest by Cato's lectures.
JUBA.

Syphax, thy hand! we'll mutually forget
The warmth of youth, and frowardness of age:

Thy Prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy per son.

If