_Gel._ Although a stage-like passion, and weak heat, Full of an empty wording, might suit age, Know I'll speak strongly truth. Lords, ne'er mistrust, That he who'll not betray a private man For his country, will ne'er betray his country For private men; then give Gelosso faith. 80 If treachery in state be serviceable, Let hangmen do it. I am bound to lose My life, but not mine honour, for my country. Our vows, our faith, our oaths, why they're ourselves, And he that's faithless to his proper self May be excus'd if he break faith with princes. The gods assist just hearts, and states that trust Plots before Providence are toss'd like dust. For Massinissa (O, let me slack a little Austere discourse and feel humanity!) 90 Methinks I hear him cry, "O fight for Carthage! Charge home! wounds smart not for that so just, so great, So good a city." Methinks I see him yet Leave his fair bride, even on his nuptial night, To buckle on his arms for Carthage. Hark! Yet, yet, I hear him cry,--"Ingratitude, Vile stain of man, O ever be most far From Massinissa's breast! Up, march amain; Fame got by loss of breath is god-like gain!" And see, by this he bleeds in doubtful[322] fight, 100 And cries "For Carthage!" whilst Carthage--Memory, Forsake Gelosso! would I could not think, Nor hear, nor be, when Carthage is So infinitely vile! See, see! look here! _Cornets. Enter two_ Ushers; SOPHONISBA, ZANTHIA, _and_ ARCATHIA; HANNO, BYTHEAS, _and_ CARTHALON _present_ SOPHONISBA _with a paper, which she having perused, after a short silence, speaks_. _So._ Who speaks? What, mute? Fair plot! What? blush to break it? How lewd to act when so shamed but to speak it. Is this the Senate's firm decree?[323] _Car._ It is. _So._ Is this the Senate's firm decree? _Car._ It is. _So._ Hath Syphax entertained the stratagem? _Car._ No doubt he hath or will. _So._ My answer's thus, 110 What's safe to Carthage shall be sweet to us.[324] _Car._ Right worthy. _Han._ Royalest. _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?