Gel. O very woman!
So. But ’tis not safe for Carthage to destroy.
Be most unjust, cunningly politic,
Your head’s still under heaven. O trust to Fate:
Gods prosper more a just than crafty state;
’Tis less disgrace to have a pitied loss,
Than shameful victory.
Gel. O very angel!
So. We all have sworn good Massinissa faith;
Speech makes us men, and there’s no other bond 120
’Twixt man and man but words. O equal gods!
Make us once know the consequence of vows—
Gel. And we shall hate faith-breakers worse than man-eaters.
So. Ha, good Gelosso, is thy breath not here?
Gel. You do me wrong: as long as I can die,
Doubt you that old Gelosso can be vile?
States may afflict, tax, torture, but our minds
Are only sworn to Jove. I grieve, and yet am proud
That I alone am honest: high powers, ye know
Virtue is seldom seen with troops to go. 130
So. Excellent man! Carthage and Rome shall fall
Before thy fame.—Our lords, know I the worst?
Car. The gods foresaw, ’tis fate we thus are forc’d.
So. Gods naught foresee, but see, for to their eyes
Naught is to come or past; nor are you vile
Because the gods foresee; for gods, not[325] we,
See as things are; things are not as[326] we see.
But since affected wisdom in us women
Is our sex’ highest folly, I am silent;
I cannot speak less well, unless I were 140
More void of goodness. Lords of Carthage, thus:
The air and earth of Carthage owes[327] my body;
It is their servant; what decree they of it?