Mass. How then have I vow’d well to Scipio?
So. How then to Sophonisba?
Mass. Right, which way? 80
Run mad!—impossible!—distraction!
So. Dear lord, thy patience; let it maze all power,
And list to her in whose sole heart it rests
To keep thy faith upright.
Mass. Wilt thou be slaved?
So. No, free.
Mass. How then keep I my faith?
So. My death
Gives help to all. From Rome so rest we free;
So brought to Scipio, faith is kept in thee.
Mass. Thou darest not die—some wine!—thou darest not die!