15. PRINCE ADHERBAL BEFORE THE

ROMAN SENATE.

A PLEA FOR OUTRAGED HOSPITALITY.

(B. C. 102.)

KING MICIPSA, of the African kingdom of Numidia, of which the present Algiers formed a part, was aided by Rome in a struggle with Carthage, Rome's chief rival, and before his death left his sons Adherbal and Hiempsal to the charge of his adopted son, Jugurtha, with instructions to be faithful to Rome, which in return would prove to be to them a complete defence against all enemies, "better than armies, fortifications, and treasure." Jugurtha murdered the younger brother; and the appeal of Adherbal to the Roman Senate for protection has few equals in pathos and dignity. The gold of Jugurtha was too powerful for Rome to withstand; but after the murder of Adherbal, the Commonwealth was driven to a disastrous war, until Jugurtha himself was subdued and dragged in chains through the streets of Rome after the chariot of Marius.

SENATORS OF ROME,- Whither, oh, whither shall I fly? I return to the royal palace of my ancestors; but my father's throne is seized by the murderer of my brother. What can I there expect but that Jugurtha should hasten to imbrue, in my blood, those hands which are now reeking with my brother's? If I were to fly for refuge or assistance to any other court, from what prince can I hope for protection if the Roman Commonwealth give me up? From my own family or friends I have no expectations! My royal father is no more! He is beyond the reach of violence, and out of hearing of the complaints of his unhappy son. Were my brother alive, our mutual sympathy would be some alleviation of my woe. But he is hurried out of life in his early youth, by the very hand which should have been the last to injure any of the royal family of Numidia.

The bloody hand of Jugurtha has butchered all whom he suspected to be in my interest. Some have been

destroyed by the lingering torment of the cross; others have been given a prey to wild beasts, and their anguish made the mere sport of men more cruel than wild beasts. If there be any yet alive, they are shut up in dungeons, there to draw out a life more intolerable than death itself.

Look down, illustrious senators of Rome, from that height of power to which you are raised, on the unexampled distresses of a prince, who is, by the cruelty of a wicked intruder, become an outcast from all mankind. Let not the crafty insinuations of him who returns murder for adoption prejudice your judgment. Do not listen to the wretch who has butchered the son and relations of a king who gave him power to sit on the same throne with his sons. If ever the time comes when the vengeance due from above shall overtake him, then he who now, hardened in wickedness, triumphs over those whom his violence has laid low, will in his turn feel distress, and suffer for his impious ingratitude to my father and his blood-thirsty cruelty to my brother.

O murdered, butchered brother! O dearest to my heart, now gone forever from my sight! But why should I lament his death? He is, indeed, deprived of the blessed light of heaven, of life, of kingdom, by the very person who ought to have been the very first to hazard his own life in defence of any of Micipsa's family. But as things are, my brother is not so much deprived of these comforts as delivered from terrors, from flight, from exile, and the endless train of miseries which render life to me a burden. He lies full low, gored with wounds and festering in his own blood. But he lies in peace. He feels none of the miseries which rend my soul with agony and distraction; while I am set up as a spectacle to all mankind of the uncertainty of human affairs. So far from having it in my power to punish his murderer, I am not the master

of means of securing my own life. So far from being in a condition to defend my kingdom from the violence of the usurper, I am obliged to apply for foreign protection, even for my own person.

Fathers, Senators of Rome, the arbiters of nations! To you I fly for refuge from the murderous fury of Jugurtha. By your affection for your children; by your love for your country; by your own virtues; by the majesty of the Roman Commonwealth; by all that is sacred, and all that is dear to you, deliver a wretched prince from undeserved, unprovoked injury, and save the kingdom of Numidia, which is your own property, from being the prey of violence, usurpation, and cruelty.

Trans. from Caius Crispus Sallust.

16. THE WAIL OF JUGURTHA.

WHEN the Roman Senate, upon the plea of Adherbal, insisted, through a heavy bribe, that his cousin Jugurtha should still hold half the kingdom of Numidia, that prince, determined to rule alone, besieged Adherbal in Cirta, its capital, the modern Constantina, - and put him to death. War with Rome followed. Led to Rome, chained to the chariot of the victorious Marius, Jugurtha was sentenced by the Romar Senate to be starved in prison, and died B. c. 108. Sallust's record of Adherbal's lofty and pathetic appeal to Rome is hardly more thrilling than Wolfe's picture of Jugurtha in his cell. Both have historic lessons, and both burn with emotion.

WELL, is the rack prepared,
Where is the scourge? How,
We have them in Numidia.

the pincers heated? -none employed in Rome? Not in Rome ?

I'm sorry for it; I could enjoy it now!

I might have felt them yesterday; but now-
Now I have seen my funeral procession !

The chariot-wheels of Marius have rolled over me;
His horses' hoofs have trampled me in their triumph;

I have attained that terrible consummation,
My soul could stand aloof, and from on high
Look down upon the ruins of my body,

Smiling in apathy;

I feel no longer;

I challenge Rome to give another pang!

Oh, how he smiled when he beheld me pause
Before his car and scowl upon the mob !

The curse of Rome was burning on my lips,

And I had gnaw'd my chain and hurl'd it at them,
But that I knew he would have smiled again.

Look here, thou caitiff, if thou canst, and see
The fragments of Jugurtha!
View him wrapt
In the last shred he borrowed from Numidia ;
'T is covered with the dust of Rome; behold

His rooted gaze upon the chains he wears,
And on the channels they have wrought upon him;
Then look around upon his dungeon walls,

And view yon scanty mat on which his frame

He flings, and rushes from his thoughts to sleep!

I'll sleep no more until I sleep forever:
When I slept last, I heard Adherbal scream.
I'll sleep no more! I'll think until I die :
My eyes shall pore upon my miseries,
Until my miseries shall be no more.

Yet wherefore did he scream? Why, I have heard
His living scream, it was not half so frightful!

Whence comes the difference?

Sleep!

When the man was living,

Why, I did gaze upon his couch of torments
With placid vengeance, and each anguished cry
Gave me stern satisfaction. Now he's dead,
And his lips move not; yet his voice's image
Flashed such a dreadful darkness o'er my soul,

I would not hear that fearful cry again
For the high glory of Numidia's throne.

But ah! 't was I that caused that living scream,
And therefore did its echo seem so frightful.

If 't were to do again, I would not kill thee;
Wilt thou not be contented? But thou say'st,
"My father was to thee a father also ;

He watched thy infant years, and gave thee all
That youth could ask; and scarcely manhood came,
Than came a kingdom also; and yet thou didst

Oh, I am faint! They have not brought me food —
How did I not perceive it until now?

Hold my Numidian cruse is still about me.
No drop within - O faithful friend, companion
Of many a weary march and thirsty day,

"T is the first time thou hast failed my lips.
Gods! I'm in tears! I did not think of weeping.
Oh, Marius, wilt thou never feel like this?

Ha! I behold the ruin of a city;

And on a craggy fragment sits a form
That seems in ruin also. How unmoved,
How stern, he looks! Amazement! it is Marius.
Ha! Marius, thinkest thou now upon Jugurtha?
He turns! he's caught my eye! I see no more.

CHARLES WOLFE