Jub. These all are virtues of a meaner rank:

Syph. Believe me, prince, there's not an African

Jub. Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern

Syph. 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul;

Jub. Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh?

Syph. Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills!

Jub. What wouldst thou have me do?

Syph. Abandon Cato.

Jub. Syphax, I should be more than twice an orphan

Syph. Ay, there's the tie that binds you!

Jub. Syphax, your zeal becomes importunate;

Syph. Sir, your great father never used me thus.

Jub. Alas! thy story melts away my soul!

Syph. By laying up his counsels in your heart.

Jub. His counsels bade me yield to thy direction:

Syph. Alas! my prince, I'd guide you to your safety.

Jub. I do believe thou wouldst; but tell me how?

Syph. Fly from the fate that follows Cæsar's foes.

Jub. My father scorn'd to do it.

Syph. And therefore died.

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