Withdraw, withdraw; all but Zanthia and Vangue depart.—
[Exeunt attendants.
I not invoke thy arm, thou god of sound,—
Nor thine, nor thine,—although in all abound
High powers immense. But jovial Mercury, 120
And thou, O brightest female of the sky,
Thrice-modest Phœbe, you that jointly fit
A worthy chastity and a most chaste wit,
To you corruptless honey and pure dew
Upbreathes our holy fire; words just and few,
O deign to hear! if in poor wretches’ cries
You glory not; if drops of withered eyes
Be not your sport, be just; all that I crave
Is but chaste life, or an untainted grave.
I can no more; yet hath my constant tongue 130
Let fall no weakness, tho’ my heart were wrung
With pangs worth hell; whilst great thoughts stop our tears,
Sorrow unseen, unpitied, inward wears:
You see now where I rest, come is my end.
Cannot Heaven virtue ’gainst weak chance defend?
When weakness hath out-borne what weakness can,—
What should I say?—’tis Jove’s, not sin of man.
—Some stratagem now! let wit’s God be shown,
Celestial powers by miracles are known.
I have’t; ’tis done.—Zanthia, prepare our bed. 140
Vangue!
So. Vangue, we have perform’d
Due rites unto the dead.
[Sophonisba presents a carouse to Vangue.
Now to thy lord, great Syphax, healthful cups,
Which done, the king is right much welcome.
Van. Were it as deep as thought, off it should thus.
[He drinks.
So. My safety with that draught.