Læ. Full of dismay’d unsteadiness he stood,
His right hand lock’d in hers, which hand he gave
As pledge for Rome she[387] ever should live free.
But when I enter’d and well urged this vow
And thy command, his great heart sunk with shame,
His eyes lost spirit, and his heat of life
Sank from his face, as one that stood benumb’d,
All mazed, t’effect impossibilities; 10
For either unto her or Scipio
He must break vow. Long time he toss’d his thoughts;
And as you see a snow-ball being roll’d,
At first a handful, yet, long bowl’d about,
Insensibly acquires a mighty globe,—
So his cold grief through agitation grows,
And more he thinks, the more of grief he knows.
At last he seem’d to yield her.
Sy. Mark, Scipio!
Trust him that breaks a vow?
Sci. How then trust thee? 19
Sy. O, misdoubt him not, when he’s thy slave like me.
Enter Massinissa, all in black.
Mass. Scipio!
Sci. Massinissa!
Mass. General!
Sci. King!