I pitied their distress,
    Whose short joy ended in so sharp a woe: 
    My soft heart melted.  As they onward go,
    “This youth for his part, I perhaps could love,”
    She said; “but nothing can my mind remove
    From hatred of the nation.”  He replied,
    “Good Sophonisba, you may leave this pride;
    Your city hath by us been three times beat,
    The last of which, you know, we laid it flat.” 
    “Pray use these words t’ another, not to me,”
    Said she; “if Africk mourned, Italy
    Needs not rejoice; search your records, and there
    See what you gained by the Punic war.” 
    He that was friend to both, without reply
    A little smiling, vanish’d from mine eye
    Amongst the crowd.  As one in doubtful way
    At every step looks round, and fears to stray
    (Care stops his journey), so the varied store
    Of lovers stay’d me, to examine more,
    And try what kind of fire burnt every breast: 
    When on my left hand strayed from the rest
    Was one, whose look express’d a ready mind
    In seeking what he joy’d, yet shamed to find;
    He freely gave away his dearest wife
    (A new-found way to save a lover’s life);
    She, though she joy’d, yet blushed at the change. 
    As they recounted their affections strange,
    And for their Syria mourn’d; I took the way
    Of these three ghosts, who seem’d their course to stay
    And take another path:  the first I held
    And bid him turn; he started, and beheld
    Me with a troubled look, hearing my tongue
    Was Roman, such a pause he made as sprung
    From some deep thought; then spake as if inspired,
    For to my wish, he told what I desired
    To know:  “Seleucus is,” said he, “my name,
    This is Antiochus my son, whose fame
    Hath reach’d your ear; he warred much with Rome,
    But reason oft by power is overcome. 
    This woman, once my wife, doth now belong
    To him; I gave her, and it was no wrong
    In our religion; it stay’d his death,
    Threaten’d by Love; Stratonica she hath
    To name:  so now we may enjoy one state,
    And our fast friendship shall outlast all date. 
    She from her height was willing to descend;
    I quit my joy; he rather chose his end
    Than our offence; and in his prime had died,
    Had not the wise Physician been our guide;
    Silence in love o’ercame his vital part;
    His love was force, his silence virtuous art. 
    A father’s tender care made me agree
    To this strange change.”  This said, he turn’d from me,
    As changing his design, with such a pace,
    Ere I could take my leave, he had quit the place
    After the ghost was carried from mine eye,
    Amazedly I walk’d; nor could untie
    My mind from his sad story; till my friend
    Admonish’d me, and said, “You must not lend