Mass. And Scipio.—Have I lived, O heavens, 70
[Exit Lælius with pages.
To be enforcedly perfidious?
So. What unjust grief afflicts my worthy lord?
Mass. Thank me, ye gods, with much beholdingness;
For mark, I do not curse you.
So. Tell me, sweet,
The cause of thy much anguish.
Mass. Ha, the cause?
Let’s see: wreathe back thine arms, bend down thy neck,
Practise base prayers, make fit thyself for bondage.
So. Bondage!
Mass. Bondage—Roman bondage!
So. No, no!