Syph. Young prince, I yet could give you good advice; Jub. As how, dear Syphax? Syph. Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops, Jub. Can such dishonest thoughts Syph. Gods, I could tear my hair to hear you talk! Jub. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a ruffian? Syph. The boasted ancestors of these great men, Jub. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine Syph. Indeed, my prince, you want to know the world. Jub. If knowledge of the world makes men perfidious, Syph. Go, go; you're young. Jub. Gods, must I tamely bear Syph. I've gone too far. [Aside. Jub. Cato shall know the baseness of thy soul. Syph. I must appease this storm, or perish in it. [Aside. Jub. Those locks shall ne'er protect thy insolence. Syph. Must one rash word, the infirmity of age, [Aside.