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Show H -Sophonisba: 0r 5 rue v f u n h a d t a e t t w To di v h o t b A t u c o G What greate *Twill build a Palace for me in the Grave t e b o i o A t i a t b No h a D t o u k i t I tremble whe Soph. Thou beft of Men, whofe Fame where-€'re it flies Shall draw up bleeding Hearts and weeping Eyes Let not your Soul tremble for me;: for Can fear no Torment, but to fee you die ‘ 3 y1 e ‘s i Ca i e OL e g K. Maf. Then cheertfully let's'go; here's to my Love 121 i 1 ',* " How fares my only Love -"--_------_ IROLOGU Written PRESPIS, toe frft |. 4 Com re Wak fi . it tg true, sf Latwm My firft, laft Dear i T " I -" AR b ( ?‘!? e § ' ; "" ,_ 1 '. th g Vei " / e po "t" VMait i‘.‘u.‘ ‘,':\'A 5: e Tale v L O Wi 1IUr aa s .l'ni i T "";" :‘ 8" Ow bpen Ne 't vikt, 1 o ?_" e J" PaY E W Re .l ,' be ,':\ :-,r ' R 2 b sYol T N p Pr:) :r b longe S He] athen Wits ‘ll}'[?f":v",, J:f "8 Y & Pogifh ~:'."f,‘ Uty fir lfA O?‘s\,\:md Dies. % o lf.n; Dhu' S(Cms) m [ Dies . Enter Scipio, Lelius, and Menander _ Men. See there, Great Sir, the effe@s of you rath Doom 0;1 410010 dfll*,k Maf*Thy}gyg_j_g Empire, and efierna?bli(s Soph. 10, where thall we meet K. Maf. The Gods can tell I-Ieaven's Peace, and golden flumbers with thee dwell ° ‘v.va.f..f,fl."l' NUTE L The Victims you have offered up to Rome »'J Our Arms, Love's Nets, about each other caft Seph. What could long life, or Empire give like thi o il 0 P"}hlq-( Like drowning Friends, link'd in Embraces faft S R ;‘W Sink in Death's bottomlefs and boundlefs Seg €0 ‘:;-1 J.Ltd Akinder heat, and kindled A__I:iflelgahain:‘x*:f -K- Maf. Thus let us launch into Erernity b fhot through ever ' # ithon Methought Death Lté).uc:h'd me with a chilling pain But your warm Kifle talnylus, Jays Horace Or we fhall live, and feel the Roman Power .;t "1 FREL SophAl, give your kindoefs o're "\4 I O PIOGILTIS, vexil All in thy fighs! D iily o The Tweetsof thoufand Springs are blowing here ‘;,.j‘ Vi Soph. Give me the Bow!, mark if my Hand dees fhake Or the frefh {pringing Blood my Cheeks forfake Undaunted to my Lips the Draught I lift "Tis to my Lord, this is his Nuptial Gift [ Drinks K. Maf. Menander, faithful Confident farewell Hafte, and our ftory to the Conful tell On thy Allegtance go without reply Thou fhould't rejoyceto fee me bravely die | £x. Men & t(eno e fal [ Drinks And to our meeting with the bleft above u ek, £ |