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Enter Cato.

And breathes the fofteft, the fincerest vows!
Complacency, and truth, and manly sweetness,

Caro. Fathers, we once again are met in council;

Dwell ever on his tongue, and fmooth his thoughts.Cæfar's approach has fummon'd us together,

Marcus is over-warm; his fond complaints
Have fo much earneftnefs and paffion in them,
I hear him with a fecret kind of horror,
And tremble at his vehemence of temper.
Mar. Alas, poor youth! how canft thou throw
him from thee

Lucia, thou know'st not half the love he bears

thee?

Whene'er he speaks of thee, his heart 's in flames,
He fends out all his foul in ev'ry word,

And Rome attends her fate from our refolves.
How fhall we treat this bold afpiring man?
Succefs ftill follows him, and backs his crimes;
Pharfalia gave him Rome, Egypt has fince
Receiv'd his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cafar's.
Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,
And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning fands

Still facke with blood. 'Tis time we fhould
decree

What courfe to take. Our foe advances on us,

And thinks, and talks, and looks like one tranf-And envies us even Libya's fultry deferts.

ported.

Unhappy youth! How will thy coldness raise
Tempefts and forms in his afflicted bosom 1

I dread the confequence.
Luc. You feem to plead
Against your brother Portius.

Mar. Heaven forbid !

Had Portius been the unfuccessful lover,
The fame compaffion would have fall'n on him.
Luc. Was ever virgin love distrest like mine!
Portius himself oft falls in tears before me,
As if he mourn'd his rival's ill fuccefs;
Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,
Nor fhew which way it turns: fo much he fears
The fad effects that it will have on Marcus.
Mar. He knows too well how eafily he's fir'd,
And would not plunge his brother in despair,
But waits for happier times, and kinder moments.
Luc. Alas! too late 1 find myself involv'd
In endless griefs and labyrinths of woe;
Born to afflict my Marcia's family,
And fow diffenfion in the hearts of brothers.
Tormenting thought! it cuts into my foul.
Mar. Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our forrows,
But to the gods fubmit th' event of things.
Our lives, difcolour'd with our prefent woes,
May ftill grow bright, and fmile with happier

hours.

So the pure limpid ftream, when foul with stains
Of rushing torrents, and defcending rains,
Works itfelf clear, and, as it runs, refines;
Till, by degrees, the floating mirror fhines,
Reflects each flow'r that on the border grows,
And a new heaven in its fair bofom flows.

ACT II.

SCENE, the Senate.

[Exeunt.

Lucius, Sempronius, and
Senators.

OME ftill furvives in this affembled

Sem. ROME

fenate !

Let us remember we are Cato's friends,
And act like men who claim that glorious title.
Luc. Cato will foon be here, and open to us
Th' occafion of our meeting. Hark, he comes!
[A found of trumpets.
May all the guardian gods of Rome due&t him

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Fathers, pronounce your thoughts: are they still fix'd

To hold it out, and fight it to the last?

Or are your hearts fubdued at length, and wrought
By time, and ill fuccefs, to a fubmiflion?
Sempronius, fpeak.

Sem. My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman fenate long debate
Which of the two to choose-flav'ry or death
No, let us rife at once, gird on your fwords,
And, at the head of our remaining troops,
Attack the foe, break through the thick array
Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon
him.

Perhaps fome arm, more lucky than the reft,
May reach his heart, and free the world from
bondage.

Rife, fathers, rife 'tis Rome demands your help;
Rife, and revenge her flaughter'd citizens,
Or fhare their fate! The corps of half her senate
Manure the fields of Theffaly; while we
Sit here delib'rating in cold debates,
If we thould facrifice our lives to honour,
Or wear them out in fervitude and chains.
Roufe up, for fhame! our brothers of Pharfalia
Point at their wounds, and cry aloud-To battle!

Gicat Pompey's fhade complains that we are flow;
And Scipio's ghoft walks unreveng`d amongst us.

Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal
Tranfport thee thus beyond the bounds of reafon :
True fortitude is feen in great exploits

That juftice warrants, and that wifdom guides;
All elle is tow ring phrenfy and difiraction.
Are not the lives of those who draw the fword
In Rome's defence entrusted to our care?
Should we thus lead them to a field of laughter,
Might not th' impartial world with reafon tay,
We lavish'd at our deaths the blood of thoufands,
To grace our fall, and make our ruin giorious?
Lucius,we next would know what's your opinion.
Luc. My thoughts, I mult confefs, are turn'd
on peace.

Already have our quarrels fill'd the world
With widows and with orphans: Scythia mourns
Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions
Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome :
'Tis time to fheathe the fword, and fpare man-

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(Prompted by blind revenge and wild despair)
Were to refufe th' awards of Providence,
And not to rest in Heaven's determination.
Already have we fhewn our love to Rome,
Now let us thew fubmiffion to the gods.
We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves,
But free the commonwealth; when this end fails,
Arms have no farther ufe. Our country's caufe,
That drew our fwords, now wrefts 'em from our
hands,

And bids us not delight in Roman blood
Unprofitably thed. What men could do,
Is done already: heaven and earth will witnefs,
If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.

Sem. This fmooth difcourfe, and mild beha-
viour, oft

Conceal a traitor. Something whispers me
All is not right—Cato, beware of Lucius.
[Afide to Cato.
Cato. Let us appear nor rash nor diffident;
Immod'rate valour fwells into a fault;
And fear admitted into public councils,
Betrays like treason. Let us fhun 'em both.
Fathers, I cannot fee that our affairs

Are grown thus defp'rate; we have bulwarks

round us;

Within our walls are troops inur'd to toil In Afric's heat, and feafon'd to the fun; Numidia's fpacious kingdom lies behind us, Ready to rife at its young prince's call. While there is hope, do not diftruft the gods : But wait at least till Cæfar's near approach Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late To fue for chains, and own a conqueror. Why fhould Rome fall a moment ere her time? No let us draw her term of freedom out In its full length, and spin it to the last, So fhall we gain ftill one day's liberty: And let me perish, but in Cato's judgment, A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.

4

Enter Marcus.

Dec. My bufinefs is with Cato; Cæfar fees The ftraits to which you 're driven; and, as he knows

Cato's high worth, is anxious for your life.

Cato. My life is grafted on the fate of Rome. Would he fave Cato, bid him fpare his country. Tell your dictator this; and tell him, Cato Difdains a life which he has pow'r to offer.

Dec. Rome and her fenators fubmit to Cæfar; Her gen'rals and her confuls are no more, Who check'd his conquefts, and denied his tri umphs.

Why will not Cato be this Cæfar's friend? Cat. Those very reafons thou haft urg'd, forbid it.

Dec. Cato, I've orders to expoftulate,
And reafon with you, as from friend to friend:
Think on the ftorm that gathers o'er your
head,

And threatens ev'ry hour to burst upon it.
Still may you ftand high in your country's ho

nours:

Do but comply, and make your peace with Cæfar,

Rome will rejoice, and caft its eyes on Cato, As on the fecond of mankind.

Cato. No more :

I must not think on life on fuch conditions.
Dec. Cæfar is well acquainted with your vir-

tues,

And therefore fets this value on your life.
Let him but know the price of Cato's friend
fhip,

And name your terms.

Cato. Bid him difband his legions, Reftore the commonwealth to liberty, Submit his actions to the public cenfure, And stand the judgment of a Roman fenate. Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend.

Dec. Cato, the world talks loudly of your wifdom

Cato. Nay more-tho' Cato's voice was ne'er employ'd

To clear the guilty, and to varnish crimes,

Mar. Fathers, this moment, as I watch'd the Myfelf will mount the roftrum in his favour,

gate,

Lodg'd in my post, a herald is arriv'd

From Cæfar's camp, and with him comes old

Decius,

The Roman knight; he carries in his looks Impatience, and demands to fpeak with Cato. Cato. By your permiffion, fathers

enter.

-bid him

Decius was once my friend; but other profpects [Exit Marcus. 'Have loos'd thofe ties, and bound him fatt to Cæfar.

His message may determine our refolves.

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And ftrive to gain his pardon from the people.
Dec. A ftyle like this becomes a conqueror.
Cato. Decius, a ftyle like this becomes a Ro-

man.

Dec. What is a Roman, that is Cæfar's foe?
Cato. Greater than Cæfar: he's a friend to
virtue.

Dec. Confider, Cato, you 're in Utica,
You don't now thunder in the Capitol,
And at the head of your own little senate;
With all the mouths of Rome to fecond you.

Cato. Let him confider that, who drives us hither 'Tis Cæfar's fword has made Rome's fenate little,

And thinn'd its ranks. Alas! thy dazzled eye
Beholds this man in a falfe glaring light,

Which conqueft and fuccefs have thrown upon

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With murder, treafont, facrilege, and crimes
That ftrike my foul with horror but to name 'em.
I know thou look'ft on me, as on a wretch
Befet with ills, and cover'd with misfortunes;
But, by the gods I fwear, millions of worlds
Should never buy me to be like that Cæfar.
Dec. Does Cato fend this anfwer back to
Cæfar,

For all his gen'rous cares and proffer'd friendhip?

Cato. His cares for me are infolent and vain :
Prefumptuous man! the gods take care of Cato.
Would Cæfar fhew the greatnefs of his foul,
Bid him employ his care for thefe my friends,
And make good ufe of his ill-gotten pow'r,
By fhelt ring men much better than himself.
Dec. Your high unconquer'd heart makes you
forget

You are a man; you rush on your destruction.
But I have done. When I relate hereafter
The tale of this unhappy embassy,
All Rome will be in tears.

[Exit Decius.

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May serve their country with as warm a zeal, Though 'tis not kindled into fuch a rage.

Sem. This fober conduct is a mighty virtue

In lukewarm patriots.

Cato. Come; no more, Sempronius :

And all the virtues we can crowd into it; That Heaven may fay it ought to be prolong'd. Fathers, farewel-The young Numidian prince Comes forward, and expects to know our coun fels. [Exeunt Senators.

Enter Juba.

Juba, the Roman fenate has refolv'd,
Till time gives better profpects, ftill to keep
The fword unfheath'd, and turn its edge on
Cæfar.

Jub. The refolution fits a Roman fenate.
But, Cato, lend me for a while thy patience,
And condefcend to hear a young man speak.
My father, when fome days before his death
He order'd me to march for Utica,
(Alas! I thought not then his death fo near !)
Wept o'er me, prefs'd me in his aged arms,
And, as his griefs gave way, My fon, faid he,
Whatever fortune thall befal thy father,

Be Cato's friend; he'll train thee up to great And virtuous deeds; do but observe him well, Thou 'It fhun misfortunes, or thou 'It learn to bear 'em.

Cato. Juba, thy father was a worthy prince, And merited, alas! a better fate; But Heaven thought otherwise.

Jub. My father's fate,

In spite of all the fortitude that fhines
Before my face in Cato's great example,
Subdues my foul, and fills my eyes with tears.
Gato. It is an honeft forrow, and becomes
thee.

Jub. My father drew respect from foreign

climes :

The kings of Afric fought him for their friend
Kings far remote, that rule, as fame reports,
Behind the hidden fources of the Nile,
In diftant worlds, on t' other fide the fun;
Oft have their black ambaffadors appear'd,
Loaden with gifts, and fill'd the courts of Zama.
Cato. I am no ftranger to thy father's great-
nefs.

Jub. I would not boast the greatness of my father,

But point out new alliances to Cato.
Have we not better leave this Utica,
To arm Numidia in our caufe, and court

All here are friends to Rome, and to each other. Th' affistance of my father's powerful friends? Let us not weaken ftill the weaker fide

By our divifions.

Sem. Cato, my resentments

Are facrific'd to Rome-I stand reprov'd.

Cato. Fathers, 'tis time you come to a refolve. Luc. Cato, we all go into your opinion: Cæfar's behaviour has convinc'd the fenate We ought to hold it out till terms arrive. Sem. We ought to hold it out till death; but, Cato,

My private voice is drown'd amidst the fenate's. Cato. Then let us rife, my friends, and strive to fill

This little interval, this pause of life, (While yet our liberty and fates are doubtful) With refolution, friendship, Roman bravery,

Did they know Cato, our remotest kings
Would pour embattled multitudes about him;
Their fwarthy hofts would darken all our
plains,

Doubling the native horror of the war,
And making death more grim.

Cato. And canft thou think
Cato will fly before the sword of Cæfar!
Reduc'd, like Hannibal, to feek relief
From court to court, and wander up and down
A vagabond in Afric?

Jub. Cato, perhaps

I'm too officious; but my forward cares Would fain preferve a life of fo much value. My heart is wounded, when I fee fuch virtue Afflicted by the weight of fuch misfortunes. X'x

Cato,

foars

Cato. Thy nobleness of foul obliges me. But know, young prince, that valour above What the world calls misfortune and affliction. These are not ills; elfe would they never fall On Heaven's first fav'rites, and the beft of men. The gods, in bounty, work up ftorms about us, That give mankind occafion to exert

Their hidden ftrength, and throw out into practice

Virtues which fhun the day, and lie conceal'd
In the fmooth feafons and the calms of life.
Jub. I'm charm'd whene'er thou talk'ft; I
pant for virtue;

And all my foul endeavours at perfection.

Cato. Doft thou love watchings, abftinence, and toil,

Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato:
Succefs and fortune muft thou learn from Cæfar.
Jub. The best good fortune that can fall on
Juba,

The whole fuccefs at which my heart afpires,
Depends on Cato.

Cato. What does Juba fay?

Thy words confound me.

Jub. I would fain retract them.

Give 'em me back again: they aim'd at nothing.

Cato. Tell me thy with, young prince, make

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To beat the thicket where the tiger flept,
Or feek the lion in his dreadful haunts:
How did the colour mount into your cheeks,
When first you rous'd him to the chace! I've
feen you,

Ev'n in the Libyan dog-days, hunt him down,
Then charge him close, provoke him to the rage
Of fangs and claws, and, ftooping from your
horse,

Rivet the panting favage to the ground.
Jub. Pr'ythee, no more.

Sy. How would the old king fmile To fee you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with gold,

And throw the fhaggy spoils about your shoulders!

Jub. Syphax,, this old man's talk, tho' honey

flow'd

In ev'ry word, would now lofe all its sweetness, Cato 's difpleas'd, and Marcia loft for ever.

Sy. Young prince, I yet could give you good advice,

Marcia might ftill be yours.

Jub. What fay'ft thou, Syphax?

By Heavens, thou turn'ft me all into attention.
Sy. Marcia might still be yours.
Jub. As how, dear Syphax?

Sy. Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,
Mounted on feeds unus'd to the restraint
Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds.
Give but the word, we'll snatch this damfel up,
And bear her off.

Jub. Can fuch dishoneft thoughts Rife up in man? Wouldst thou feduce my youth To do an act that would deftroy my honour?

Sy. Gods, I could tear my hair to hear you talk! Honour 's a fine imaginary notion,

That draws in raw and unexperienc'd men
To real mifchiefs, while they hunt a fhadow.
Jub. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a

ruffian?

Sy. The boafted ancestors of these great men, Whofe virtues you admire, were all fuch ruffians.

This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,

That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds Exit. All under heaven, was founded on a rape;

Sy. How's this, my prince! What, cover'd with confufion?

You look as if yon ftern philofopher

Had just now chid you.

Jub. Syphax, I'm undone.

Sy. I know it well.

Jub. Cato thinks meanly of me.

Sy. And fo will all mankind.

Jub. I've open'd to him

Tre weakness of my foul, my love for Marcia.
Sy. Cato's a proper perfon to intrust

A love-tale with!

Jub. O, I could pierce my heart,
My foolish heart. Was ever wretch like Juba ?
Sy. Alas, my prince, how are you chang'd of
late!

I've known young Juba rife before the fun,

Your Scipios, Cæfars, Pompeys, and your Catos, (The gods on earth) are all the fpurious brood Of violated maids, of ravifh'd Sabines.

Jub. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles. Sy. Indeed, my prince, you want to know the world.

You have not read mankind; your youth ad

mires

The throes and fwellings of a Roman foul,
Cato's bold flights, th' extravagance of virtue.
Jub. If knowledge of the world makes man
perfidious,

May Juba ever live in ignorance!
Sy. Go, go; you 're young.
Jub. Gods, muft I tamely bear

This arrogance unanfwer'd? Thou 'rt a traitor,
A falfe old traitor.

Sy

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[Afide. A blind officious zeal to ferve my king The ruling principle, that ought to burn And quench all others in a subject's heart. Happy the people who preferve their honour By the fame duties that oblige their prince. Jub. Syphax, thou now beginn'ft to speak thyfelf.

Beneath a helmet in your father's battles. Jub. Thote locks fhall ne'er protect thy infolence.

Sy. Must one rafh word, th' infirmity of age, Throw down the merit of my better years? This the reward of a whole life of fervice! -Curfe on the boy! how steadily he hears me! [Afide. Jub. Is it because the throne of my forefathers Still ftands until'd, and that Numidia's crown Hangs doubtful yet whofe head it fhall inclofe, Thou thus prefum'it to treat thy prince with fcorn?

Sr. Why will you rive my heart with fuch expreffions?

Does not old Syphax follow you to war?
What are his aims? Why does he load with darts
His trembling hand, and cruth beneath a calque
His wrinkled brows? What is it he afpires to?
Is it not this? to fhed the flow remains,
His laft poor cbb of blood in your defence?

Jub. Syphax, no more! I would not hear you! talk.

Sy. Not hear me talk! what, when my faith
to Jubi,

My royal master's fon, is call'd in question?
My prince may ftrike me dead, and I'll be dumb;
But whilft I live I muft not hold my tongue,
And languish out old age in his displeasure.

Jub, Thou know'ft the way too well into my
heart.

I do believe thee loyal to thy prince.

Sy. What greater inftance can I give? I've

offer'd

To do an action which my foul abhors,
And gain you whom you love at any price.

Jub. Was this thy motive? I've been too hafty. S. And 'tis for this my prince has call'd me traitor.

Fub. Sure thou mistak'st; I did not call thee fo. Sy. You did indeed, my prince, you call'd me traitor;

Nay, further, threaten'd you 'd complain to Cato.
Of what, my prince, would you complain to Cato?
That Syphax loves you, and would facrifice
His life, nay, more,
his honour, in your fervice.
Jub, Syphax, I know thou lov'ft me; but
indeed

Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far.
Honour's a facred tie, the law of kings,
The noble mind's diftinguithing perfection,
That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets
her,

And imitates her actions where she is not;
It ought not to be ported with.

Sy. By Heavens,

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Numidia's grown a fcorn among the nations,
For breach of public vows. Our Punic faith
Is infamous, and branded to a proverb.
Syphax, we 'll join our cares, to purge away
Our country's crimes, and clear her reputation.
Sy. Believe me, prince, you make old Syphax

weep,

To hear you talk-but 'tis with tears of joy.
If e'er your father's crown adorn your brows,
Numidia will be bleft by Cato's lectures.

Jub. Syphax, thy hand; we 'll mutually forget The warmth of youth, and frowardness of age: Thy prince eftcems thy worth, and loves thy. perfon,

If e'er the fceptre comes into my hand,
Syphax shall stand the fecond in my kingdom.
Sy. Why will you overwhelm my age with
kinduefs?

My joy grows burdenfome, I fhan't support it.
Jub, Syphax, farewel. I'll hence, and try to

find

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All hail, Sempronius!

Well, Cato's fenate is refolv'd to wait
The fury of a fiege before it yields.

Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge of fate:

Lucius declar'd for peace, and terms were offer'd
To Cato, by a meffenger from Cæfar.
Should they fubmit ere our defigns are ripe,
We both muft perish in the common wreck,
Loft in the gen'ral undistinguish'd ruin.

Sy. But how ftands Cato?

Sem, Thou haft feen mount Atlas: Whilft ftorms and tempefts thunder on its brows, And oceans break their billows at its feet, It stands unmov'd, and glories in its height: Such is that haughty man; his tow'ring foul, Midft all the shocks and injuries of fortune, Rifes fuperior, and looks down on Cæfar. Sy. But what 's this meffenger? Sem. I've practis'd with him, And found a means to let the victor know That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends.

X x 2

But

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