VIII.

Yet there's a grief surpassing all the reft;
A jealous dæmon whispers in my breast,
Marius was falfe, for liberty alone

The show of love the hypocrite put on.

IX.

Then I reflect (ah! would I could forget!)

How much your thoughts on war and Rome were fet. How little paffion did that conduct prove!

Too ftrong thy reason, but too weak thy love.

X.

Thy fword, 'tis true, a father's caufe demands;
But 'twas a mistress gave it to thy hands:

To love, and duty juft, give each their part,
His be the arm, and mine be all thy heart.

XI.

But what avail these thoughts? fond wretch, give o'er!
Marius, or falfe, or true, is thine no more:
Since Fate has caft the lot, and we must part,

Why should I wish to think I had his heart?

XII.

Yes: let me cherish that remembrance ftill;
That thought alone shall soften every ill;
To tell my foul, his love, his truth was fuch,
All was his due, nor have I done too much.

XIII. De

XIII.

Deceitful comfort! let me not perfuade
My cred❜lous heart its fondness was repaid;
It makes my foul with double anguish mourn
Those joys, which never, never must return.
XIV.

Perhaps ev❜n you what most I wish oppose,
And in the Roman all the lover lofe :

I'm a Numidian, and your foul difdains

To bear th' inglorious weight of foreign chains.
XV.

Can any climate then fo barb'rous prove,

To stand excluded from the laws of Love?
His empire's univerfal, unconfin'd,

His proxy beauty, and his slaves mankind.

XVI.

Nor am I a Numidian but by name,

For I can int'reft for my love disclaim:

My virtue fhews what 'twas the gods defign'd,

By chance on Afric's clay they stamp'd a Roman mind.

XVII.

Not all the heroes which your Rome can boast,

So much for fame, as I for you have loft:
Yourself I loft: oh! grateful, then confess,
My tryal greater, though my glory less.

XVIII. Yes,

XVIII.

Yes, partial gods! inflicters of my care!
Be witness what I felt, what grief, what fear!
When full of stifled woes the night he fled,

No figh I dar'd to breathe, no tear to shed.
XIX.

Whilft men of faith approv'd, a chofen crew,
Firm to their truft, and to their mistress true,
With care too punctual my commands obey,
And in one freight my life and thee convey.
XX.

The harder task was mine; condemn'd to bear
With brow ferene, my agonizing care;
To mix in idle talk, to force a smile,

A king and jealous lover to beguile.

XXI.

Think in that dreadful interval of fate,
All I held dear, thy fafety in debate,

Think what I fuffer'd, whilft my heart afraid
Suggefts a thousand times, that all's betray'd.

XXII.

A thousand times revolving in my mind'

The doubtful chance; oh! Love! faid I, be kind : Propitious to my fcheme, thy vot'ry aid,

And be my fondness by fuccefs repaid.

XXIII. Now

XXIII.

Now bolder grown, with fanguine hopes elate,
My fancy represents thy fmiling fate;

The guards deceiv'd, and every danger o'er,
The winds already waft him from the shore.
XXIV.

These pleasing images anew impart,
Life to my eyes, and gladness to my heart;
Difpel the gloomy fears that cloud my face,
And charm the little flutterer to peace.

XXV.

But now the king, or tastelefs to my charms,
Or weary of an absent mistress' arms,

His own apartment feeks, and grateful reft;
That courted ftranger to the careful breaft.

XXVI.

Whilft I, by hopes and fears alternate sway'd,
Impatient ask the flaves if I'm obey'd.

'Tis done, they cry'd, and ftruck me with despair,
For what I long'd to know, I dy'd to hear.

XXVII.

Fantastic turn of a diftracted mind;

I blam'd the gods for having been too kind
Curs'd the fuccefs they granted to my vows,
And this affiftant hand that fill'd my woes.

I

XXVIII. Such

XXVIII.

Such was my frenzy in that hour of care,
And fuch th' injustice of my bold despair;
That even those, ungrateful I upbraid,

Whofe fatal diligence my will obey'd.
XXIX.

Scarce, Marius, did thyfelf escape my rage;

(Most lov'd of men!) when fears of black prefage Describe thy heart fo fond of liberty,

It never gave one parting throb for me.

XXX.

At every step you should have turn'd your eye,
Dropt a regretful tear, and heav'd a figh;
The nature of the grace I fhew'd was such,
You not deferv'd it, if it pleas'd too much.
XXXI.

A lover would have linger'd as he fled,
And oft in anguish to himself have faid,
Farewel for ever! Ah! yet more he'd done,
A lover never would have fled alone.

XXXII.

To force me from a hated rival's bed,
Why comes not Marius at an army's head?
Oh! did thy heart but wish to see that day,
'Twould all my past, and future woes o'erpay.
XXXIII. But