_So._ Be but a beast, Be but a beast. _Sy._ Do not offend a power 20 Can make thee more than wretched: yield to him To whom fate yields. Know, Massinissa's dead. _So._ Dead! _Sy._ Dead. _So._ To gods' and[337] good men's shame. _Sy._ Help, Vangue, my strong blood boils. _So._ O[338] yet save thine own fame. _Sy._ All appetite is deaf; I will, I must. Achilles' armour could not bar[339] out lust. _So._ Hold thy strong arm, and hear me. Syphax, know I am thy servant now: I needs must love thee, For (O, my sex, forgive!) I must confess We not affect protesting feebleness, 30 Entreats, faint blushings, timorous modesty; We think our lover is but little man, Who is so full of woman. Know, fair Prince, Love's strongest arm's not rude; for we still prove, Without some fury there's no ardent love. We love our love's impatience of delay; Our noble[340] sex was only born t'obey, To him that dares command. _Sy._ Why, this is well; Th' excuse is good: wipe thy fair eyes, our Queen, Make proud thy head; now feel more friendly strength Of thy lord's arm: come, touch my rougher skin 41 With thy soft lip. Zanthia, dress our bed. Forget old loves, and clip him that through blood And hell acquires his wish; think not but kiss, The flourish fore love's fight and[341] Venus' bliss. _So._ Great dreadful lord, by thy affection, Grant me one boon. Know I have made a vow-- _Sy._ Vow! what vow? speak. _So._ Nay, if you take offence, Let my soul suffer first, and yet---- _Sy._ Offence? Not, Sophonisba; hold, thy vow is free 50 As----come, thy lips! _So._ Alas, cross misery! As I do wish to live, I long t'enjoy Your warm embrace; but, oh my vow, 'tis thus: If ever my lord died, I vow'd to him A most, most private sacrifice, before I touch'd a second spouse. All I implore, Is but this liberty. _Sy._ This? go, obtain. What time? _So._ One hour. _Sy._ Sweet, good speed, speed, adieu!-- Yet, Syphax, trust no more than thou may'st view.-- Vangue shall stay. _So._ He stays. _Enter a Page, delivering a letter to_ SOPHONISBA, _which she privately reads_. _Sy._ Zanthia, Zanthia! 60 Thou art not foul, go to; some lords are oft So much in love with their known ladies' bodies, That they oft love their--Vails:[342] hold, hold, thou'st find To faithful care kings' bounty hath no shore. _Zan._ You may do much. _Sy._ But let my gold do more. _Zan._ I am your creature. _Sy._ Be yet;[343] 'tis no stain; The god of service is however gain. [_Exit._ _So._ Zanthia, where are we now? speak worth my service; Ha' we done well?