The Works of John Marston. Volume 2

EPILOGUS.

And thus, in bold yet modest phrase we end.
He whose Thalia with swiftest hand hath penn’d
This lighter subject, and hath boldly torn
Fresh bays from Daphne’s arm, doth only scorn
Malicious censures of some envious few,    490
Who think they lose if others have their due:
But let such adders hiss; know, all the sting,
All the vain foam of all those snakes that ring
Minerva’s glassful shield, can never taint,
Poison, or pierce; firm art disdains to faint:—
But yet of you that with impartial faces,
With no preparèd malice, but with graces
Of sober knowledge, have survey’d the frame
Of his slight scene, if you shall judge his flame
Distemperately weak, as faulty much    500
In style, in plot, in spirit; lo! if such,
He deigns, in self-accusing phrase, to crave
Not[294] praise, but pardon, which he hopes to have;
Since he protests he ever hath aspired
To be belovèd rather than admired.

[Exeunt omnes.

The Wonder of Women Or The Tragedie of Sophonisba, as it hath beene sundry times Acted at the Blacke Friers. Written by Iohn Marston. London. Printed by Iohn Windet and are to be sold neere Ludgate. 1606. 4to.

Syphax and Massinissa, princes of Libya, are rivals for the hand of Sophonisba, daughter of Asdrubal, a powerful Carthaginian nobleman. Massinissa’s suit is accepted; whereupon Syphax enters into a league with Scipio, who is advancing against Carthage. On Sophonisba’s marriage-night news is brought that the Carthaginian forces stationed at Utica have been defeated by the united armies of Scipio and Syphax. Massinissa is ordered by the senate to march without delay against the enemy; he loyally obeys the command, and takes leave of his virgin-wife. While he is serving Carthage in the field, the Carthaginian senators at home proceed to plot against his life. They determine to gain Syphax to their side by giving him Sophonisba to wife; and Gisco, a physician and skilful empoisoner, is sent to the Carthaginian camp to despatch Massinissa. Among the senators there is an honest old man, Gelosso, who disguises himself, follows Gisco to the camp, and hands Massinissa a letter containing a disclosure of the plot. Massinissa has no sooner dismissed the empoisoner (whom he scorns to punish) than Jugurth, Massinissa’s nephew, enters, to announce that Syphax has been seen riding in the direction of Cirta, and that his horsemen are coming at a leisurely pace towards the camp as if to fraternise with Massinissa’s forces. By advice of Gelosso, who lays aside his disguise, Massinissa scatters the horsemen by a sudden onslaught, and hastens to make a league with Scipio. Meanwhile Sophonisba has been sent by the Carthaginian senators to the palace of Syphax at Cirta. She escapes by a subterranean passage that led from the palace to a forest, but through the treachery of her attendant, Zanthia, falls again into the hands of Syphax. In despair of effecting his purpose by persuasion, Syphax applies for help to a powerful enchantress, Erictho, who engages to force Sophonisba by magic to his arms, on condition that he shall speak no word, and have no lights burning, while he embraces her. On the appointed night Syphax discovers to his horror that his embraces have been given to Erictho. While he is cursing his fortunes, a messenger arrives to announce that Scipio and Massinissa are advancing against Cirta. He marches out to meet them; the troops on either side withdraw, while Syphax and Massinissa engage in single combat; Massinissa vanquishes his opponent, but spares his life on receiving assurance that Sophonisba has not suffered outrage. Leaving his prisoner in Scipio’s hands, Massinissa hastens to Cirta. He enters the palace with his beaver down, unrecognised by Sophonisba, who throws herself at his feet, and implores him to save her from falling into the hands of the Romans, or grant her instant death. Pledging his oath that he will protect her, he doffs his helmet. The joyful reunion is presently interrupted by the entrance of the Roman general, Lælius, who orders Massinissa to deliver Sophonisba into Scipio’s custody (Syphax having represented to Scipio that Sophonisba would quickly induce Massinissa to revolt from Rome). Lælius departs with Massinissa’s assurance that the command shall be obeyed. Massinissa is distracted; he must either break the oath that he had pledged to Sophonisba, or he must be faithless in the allegiance that he had sworn to Rome. Sophonisba’s heroism rescues him from his dilemma. She declares her willingness to die; he infuses poison in a bowl of wine, and the dauntless woman drinks, speaking words of comfort to her husband as the poison courses through her veins. The lifeless body, laid on a bier, is presented to Scipio by Massinissa.

TO THE GENERAL READER.

Know that I have not laboured in this poem to tie myself to relate anything as an historian, but to enlarge everything as a poet. To transcribe authors, quote authorities, and translate Latin prose orations into English blank verse, hath, in this subject, been the least aim of my studies.[295] Then (equal reader) peruse me with no prepared dislike; and, if ought shall displease thee, thank thyself; if ought shall please thee, thank not me: for I confess in this it was not my only end.

ARGUMENTUM.

A grateful heart’s just height; ingratitude,
And vow’s base breach with worthy shame pursued;
A woman’s constant love, as firm as fate;
A blameless counsellor well born for state;
The folly to enforce free love: these, know,
This subject with full light doth amply show.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

PROLOGUS.

The scene is Libya, and the subject thus:
Whilst Carthage stood the only awe of Rome,
As most imperial seat of Libya,
Govern’d by statesmen, each as great as kings
(For seventeen kings were Carthage feodars);
Whilst thus she flourish’d, whilst her Hannibal
Made Rome to tremble, and the walls yet pale:
Then in this Carthage Sophonisba lived,
The far-famed daughter of great Asdrubal:
For whom (’mongst others) potent Syphax sues,    10
And well-graced Massinissa rivals him,
Both princes of proud sceptres: but the lot
Of doubtful favour Massinissa graced,
At which Syphax grows black: for now the night
Yields loud resoundings of the nuptial pomp:
Apollo strikes his harp, Hymen his torch;
Whilst louring Juno, with ill-boding eye,
Sits envious at too forward Venus. Lo,
The instant night: and now ye worthier minds,
To whom we shall present a female glory    20
(The wonder of a constancy so fix’d,
That fate itself might well grow envious):
Be pleased to sit,[296] such as may merit oil,
And holy dew, still’d from diviner heat.
For rest thus knowing: what of this you hear,
The author lowly hopes, but must not fear:
For just worth never rests on popular frown,
 To have done well is fair deeds’ only crown.

Nec se quæsiverit extra.

Cornets sound a march.

The Prologue leads Massinissa’s troops over the stage, and departs: Syphax’ troops only stay.

THE TRAGEDY
OF
SOPHONISBA.

Sy. Syphax, Syphax! why wast thou cursed a king?
What angry god made thee so great, so vile?
Contemn’d, disgracèd! think, wert thou a slave,
Though Sophonisba did reject thy love,
Thy low neglected head, unpointed at,
Thy shame unrumour’d, and thy suit unscoff’d,
Might yet rest quiet. Reputation,
Thou awe of fools and great men; thou that chok’st
Freest addictions, and makest mortals sweat
Blood and cold drops in fear to lose, or hope    10
To gain, thy never-certain seldom-worthy gracings;
Reputation,
Were’t not for thee, Syphax could bear this scorn,
Not spouting up his gall among his blood
In black vexations: Massinissa might
Enjoy the sweets of his preferrèd graces
Without my dangerous envy or revenge;
Were’t not for thy affliction, all might sleep
In sweet oblivion: but (O greatness’ scourge!)
We cannot without envy keep high name,    20
Nor yet disgraced can have a quiet shame.

Sy. To Carthage, Carthage! O thou eternal youth,
Man of large fame, great and abounding glory,
Renownful Scipio, spread thy two-necked eagles,
Fill full thy sails with a revenging wind,
Strike through obedient Neptune, till thy prows[297]
Dash up our Libyan ooze,[298] and thy just arms
Shine with amazeful terror on these walls!
O now record thy father’s[299] honour’d blood    40
Which Carthage drunk; thy uncle Publius’[300] blood
Which Carthage drunk; thirty thousand souls
Of choice Italians Carthage set on wing:
Remember Hannibal, yet Hannibal,
The consul-queller: O then enlarge thy heart,
Be thousand souls in one! let all the breath,
The spirit of thy name and nation, be mix’d strong
In thy great heart! O fall like thunder-shaft,
The wingèd vengeance of incensèd Jove,
Upon this Carthage! for Syphax here flies off    50
From all allegiance, from all love or service,
His (now free’d) sceptre once did yield this city.
Ye universal gods, light, heat, and air,
Prove all unblessing Syphax, if his hands
Once rear themselves for Carthage but to curse it!
It had been better they had changed their faith,
Denied their gods, than slighted Syphax’ love;
So fearfully will I take vengeance.
I’ll interleague with Scipio.—Vangue,
Dear Ethiopian negro, go wing a vessel,    60
And fly to Scipio: say his confederate,
Vow’d and confirm’d, is Syphax: bid him haste
To mix our palms and arms; will him make up,
Whilst we are in the strength of discontent,
Our unsuspected forces well in arms;
For Sophonisba, Carthage, Asdrubal,
Shall feel their weakness in preferring weakness,
And one less great than we. To our dear wishes,
Haste, gentle negro, that this heap may know
Me and their wrong.    70

SCENE II.

Sophonisba’s bedchamber.

Enter Arcathia; Nycea, with tapers; Sophonisba, in her night attire, followed by Zanthia.

So. Watch at the doors: and till we be reposed
Let no one enter. Zanthia, undo me.

Zan. With this motto under your girdle:
You had been undone if you had not been undone.
Humblest service!

So. I wonder, Zanthia, why the custom is,
To use such ceremony, such strict shape,
About us women: forsooth the bride must steal
Before her lord to bed; and then delays,
Long expectations, all against known wishes.    10
I hate these figures in locution,
These about phases forced by ceremony;
We must still seem to fly what we most seek,
And hide ourselves from what we fain would find.
Let those that think and speak and do just acts,
Know form can give no virtue to their acts,
Nor detract vice.

Arca. The bridegroom!

[Massinissa draws a white ribbon forth[301] of the bed, as from the waist of Sophonisba.

Lo, I unloose thy waist!
She that is just in love is god-like chaste.    40
Io to Hymen!

Chorus, with cornets, organ and voices. Io to Hymen!

So. A modest silence, though’t be thought
A virgin’s beauty and her highest honour;
Though bashful feignings nicely wrought,
Grace her that virtue takes not in, but on her;
What I dare think I boldly speak:
After my word my well-bold action rusheth.
In open flame then passion break!
Where virtue prompts, thought, word, act never blusheth.
Revenging gods, whose marble hands    50
Crush faithless men with a confounding terror,
Give me no mercy if these bands
I covet not with an unfeignèd fervour;
Which zealous vow when ought can force me t’lame,[302]
Load with that plague Atlas would groan at, shame.
Io to Hymen!

Chorus. Io to Hymen!

Asdru. Live both high parents of so happy birth,
Your stems may touch the skies and shadow earth;
Most great in fame, more great in virtue shining.
Prosper, O powers! a just, a strong divining.    60
Io to Hymen!

Chorus. Io to Hymen!

Enter Carthalon, his sword drawn, his body wounded, his shield struck full of darts; Massinissa being ready for bed.

Car. To bold hearts Fortune! be not you amazed,
Carthage! O Carthage! be not you amazed.

Mass. Jove made us not to fear; resolve, speak out;
The highest misery of man is doubt.
Speak, Carthalon!

Car. The stooping sun, like to some weaker prince,
Let his shades spread to an unnatural hugeness,
When we, the camp that lay at Utica,
From Carthage distant but five easy leagues,    70
Descried from off the watch three hundred sail,
Upon whose tops the Roman eagles stretch’d
Their large spread wings, which fann’d the evening air,
To us cold breath; for well we might discern
Rome swam to Carthage.

Asd. Hannibal, our rancour[303] is come back; thy slight,
Thy stratagem, to lead war unto Rome,
To quite ourselves, hath now taught desperate Rome
T’assail our Carthage: now the war is here.

Mass. He is nor blest, nor honest, that can fear.    80

Han. Ay, but to cast the worst of our distress——

Mass. To doubt of what shall be, is wretchedness:
Desire, fear, and hope, receive no bond
By whom, we in ourselves are never but beyond.
On!

Car. Th’ alarum beats necessity of fight;
Th’ unsober evening draws out reeling forces,
Soldiers, half men, who to their colours troop
With fury, not with valour: whilst our ships
Unrigg’d, unus’d, fitter for fire than water,    90
We save in our barr’d haven from surprise.
By this our army marcheth toward the shore,
Undisciplin’d young men, most bold to do,
If they knew how, or what; when we descry
A mighty dust, beat up with horses’ hooves:
Straight Roman ensigns glitter; Scipio——

Car. Scipio, advancèd like the god of blood,
Leads up grim war, that father of foul wounds,
Whose sinewy feet are steep’d in gore, whose hideous voice    100
Makes turrets tremble and whole cities shake;
Before whose brows flight and disorder hurry;
With whom march burnings, murder, wrong, waste, rapes;
Behind whom a sad train is seen, woe, fears,
Tortures, lean need, famine, and helpless tears.
Now make we equal stand in mutual view:
We judg’d the Romans eighteen thousand foot,
Five thousand horse; we almost doubled them
In number, not in virtue;[304] yet in heat
Of youth and wine, jolly, and full of blood,    110
We gave the sign of battle: shouts are raised
That shook the heavens; pell-mell our armies join;
Horse, targets, pikes, all against each opposed,[305]
They give fierce shock, arms thunder’d as they clos’d:
Men cover earth, which straight are coverèd
With men and earth; yet doubtful stood the fight,
More fair to Carthage, when lo, as oft we see,
In mines of gold, when labouring slaves delve out
The richest ore, being in sudden hope
With some unlook’d-for vein to fill their buckets,    120
And send huge treasure up, a sudden damp
Stifles them all, their hands yet stuff’d with gold,—
So fell our fortunes; for look, as we stood proud,
Like hopeful victors, thinking to return
With spoils worth triumph, wrathful Syphax lands
With full ten thousand strong Numidian horse,
And joins to Scipio. Then lo, we[306] all were damp’d;
We fall[307] in clusters, and our wearied troops
Quit all. Slaughter ran through us straight; we fly,
Romans pursue, but Scipio sounds retreat,    130
As fearing trains and night: we make amain
For Carthage most, and some for Utica,
All for our lives.—New force, fresh arms with speed!

Han.[308] You have said truth of all; no more: I bleed.
O[309] wretched fortune!

[Tearing his hair.

Mass. Old lord, spare thy hairs:
What, dost thou think baldness will cure thy grief?
What decree the Senate?

Enter Gelosso with commissions in his hand, sealed.

Gelo. Ask old Gelosso, who returns from them,
Inform’d with fullest charge. Strong Asdrubal,
Great Massinissa, Carthage general,    140
So speaks the Senate: counsel for this war
In Hanno Magnus, Bytheas, Carthalon,
And us Gelosso, rests. Embrace this charge,
You never yet dishonour’d Asdrubal,
High Massinissa! by your vows to Carthage,
By th’ god of great men,—glory,—fight for Carthage!
Ten thousand strong Massulians, ready troop’d,
Expect their king; double that number waits
The leading of loved Asdrubal: beat loud
Our Afric drums! and, whilst our o’er-toil’d foe    150
Snores on his unlacked casque, all faint, though proud,
Through his successful fight, strike fresh alarms.
Gods are not if they grace not bold, just arms.

So. My lords, ’tis most unusual such sad haps
Of sudden horror should intrude ’mong beds
Of soft and private loves; but strange events
Excuse strange forms. O you that know our blood,
Revenge if I do feign. I here protest,    160
Though my lord leave his wife a very maid,
Even this night, instead of my soft arms
Clasping his well-strung limbs with glossful steel,
What’s safe to Carthage shall be sweet to me.
I must not, nor am I once ignorant
My choice of love hath given this sudden danger
To yet strong Carthage: ’twas I lost the fight;
My choice vex’d Syphax, enraged Syphax struck
Arms’ fate;[310] yet Sophonisba not repents:
O we were gods if that we knew events.    170
But let my[311] lord leave Carthage, quit his virtue,
I will not love him; yet must honour him,
As still good subjects must bad princes. Lords,
From the most ill-graced hymeneal bed
That ever Juno frown’d at, I entreat
That you’ll collect from our loose-formèd speech
This firm resolve: that no low appetite
Of my sex’ weakness can or shall o’ercome
Due grateful[312] service unto you or virtue.
Witness, ye gods, I never until now    180
Repined at my creation: now I wish
I were no woman, that my arms might speak
My heart to Carthage. But in vain: my tongue
Swears I am woman still, I talk too[313] long.

Cornets, a march. Enter two Pages with targets and javelins; two Pages with torches. Massinissa armed cap-à-pie; Asdrubal armed.

Mass. Ye Carthage lords, know Massinissa knows
Not only terms of honour, but his actions;
Nor must I now enlarge how much my cause
Hath danger’d Carthage, but how I may show
Myself most prest[314] to satisfaction.
The loathsome stain of kings’ ingratitude    190
From me O much be far! And since this torrent,
War’s rage, admits no anchor—since the billow
Is risen so high we may not hull,[315] but yield
This ample state to stroke of speedy swords;
What you with sober haste have well decreed,
We’ll put to sudden arms; no, not this night,
These dainties, these firstfruits of nuptials,
That well might give excuse for feeble lingerings,
Shall hinder Massinissa. Appetite,
Kisses, loves, dalliance, and what softer joys    200
The Venus of the pleasing’st ease can minister,
I quit you all. Virtue perforce is vice;
But he that may, yet holds, is manly wise.
Lo then, ye lords of Carthage, to your trust
I leave all Massinissa’s treasure: by the oath
Of right good men stand to my fortune just:
Most hard it is for great hearts to mistrust.

So. My Massinissa, Sophonisba speaks
Worthy thy wife: go with as high a hand
As worth can rear. I will not stay my lord.
Fight for our country; vent thy youthful heat
In field, not beds: the fruit of honour, Fame,
Be rather gotten than the oft disgrace
Of hapless parents, children. Go, best man,
And make me proud to be a soldier’s wife,
That values his renown above faint pleasures:    220
Think every honour that doth grace thy sword
Trebles my love. By thee I have no lust
But of thy glory. Best lights of heaven with thee!
Like wonder, stand or fall; so, though thou die,
My fortunes may be wretched, but not I.

Mass. Wondrous creature! even fit for gods, not men:
Nature made all the rest of thy fair sex
As weak essays, to make thee a pattern
Of what can be in woman! Long farewell!
He’s sure unconquer’d in whom thou dost dwell,    230
Carthage Palladium.[316] See that glorious lamp—
Whose lifeful[317] presence giveth sudden flight
To fancies, fogs, fears, sleep, and slothful night—
Spreads day upon the world: march swift amain;—
Fame got with loss of breath is god-like gain!

[The Ladies draw the curtains about Sophonisba; the rest accompany Massinissa forth: the cornets and organs playing loud full music for the Act.