"Spartacus. Come, look me in the face,
And let me see how bad desires have changed thee.
Phasarius. I claim the captive.
Spar. Set thine eye on her:
Lo, you! she weeps, and she is fatherless.
Thou couldst not harm an orphan? What, I say,
Art thou, whom I have carried in my arms
To mountain-tops to worship the great God,
Art thou a man to plot a wrong and sorrow
'Gainst such as have no father left but Him?"