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Juba. Oh, Marcia, let me hope thy kind As if he mourn'd his rival's ill success;

concerns

And gentle wishes follow me to battle!
The thought will give new vigour to my arm,
And strength and weight to my descending
sword,

And drive it in a tempest on the foe.
Marcia. My pray'rs and wishes always shall
attend

The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue,
And men approv'd of by the gods and Cato.
Juba. That Juba may deserve thy pious cares,
I gaze for ever on thy godlike father,
Transplanting, one by one, into my life,
His bright perfections, till I shine like him.
Marcia. My father never, at a time like this,
Would lay out his great soul in words, and waste
Such precious moments.

Juba. Thy reproofs are just,

Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,
Nor show which way it turns. So much he fears
The sad effect that it will have on Marcus.
Was ever virgin love distress'd like mine.
Marcia. Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our
sorrows,

But to the gods submit th' event of things.
Our lives, discolour'd with our present woes,
May still grow bright, and smile with happier
hours.

So the pure, limpid stream, when foul with

stains

Of rushing torrents, and descending rains,
Till, by degrees, the floating mirror shines,
Works itself clear, and, as it runs, refines,
Reflects each flow'r that on the border grows,

And a new heav'n in its fair bosom shows.
[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-The Senate-house. Flourish. SEMPRONIUS, LUCIUS, and Senators discovered.

Thou virtuous maid; I'll hasten to my troops,
And fire their languid souls with Cato's virtue.
If e'er 1 lead them to the field, when all
The war shall stand rang'd in its just array,
And dreadful pomp, then will I think on thee.
Ob, lovely maid! then will I think on thee;
And in the shock of charging hosts, remember
What glorious deeds should grace the man, Let us remember we are Cato's friends,
And act like men who claim that glorious
title.
[Trumpets.
Luc. Hark! he comes.

who hopes

[Exit.

For Marcia's love.
Lucia. Marcia, you're too severe :
How could you chide the young, good-natur'd
prince,

And drive him from you with so stern an air;
A prince that loves, and dotes on you to death?
Marcia. How, Lucia! wouldst thou have me

sink away

In pleasing dreams, and lose myself in love,
When ev'ry moment Cato's life's at stake?
Lucia. Why have I not this constancy of
mind,

Who have so many griefs to try its force?
Sure, nature form'd me of her softest mould,
Enfeebled all my soul with tender passions,
And sunk me ev'n below my own weak sex:
Pity and love, by turns, oppress my heart.

Marcia. Lucia, disburden all thy cares on me,
And let me share thy most retir'd distress.
Tell me, who raises up this conflict in thee?
Lucia. I need not blush to name them,
when I tell thee
They're Marcia's brothers, and the sons of Cato.
Marcia. But tell me whose address thou fa-
vour'st most?

I long to know, and yet I dread to hear it.
Lucia. Suppose 'twere Portius, could you
blame my choice? -

Ob, Portius, thou hast stol'n away my soul!
Marcus is over warm; his fond complaints
Have so much earnestness and passion in them,
I hear him with a secret kind of horror,
And tremble at his vehemence of temper.
Marcia. Alas, poor youth!

How will thy coldness raise

Sem. Rome still survives in this assembled senate.

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Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,
And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands
Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should
decree

What course to take. Our foe advances on us,
And envies us ev'n Libya's sultry deserts.
Fathers, pronounce your thoughts: are they
still fix'd

To hold it out, and fight it to the last?
Or are your hearts subdu'd at length, and
wrought,

By time and ill success, to a submission?
Sempronius, speak.

Sem. My voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slav'ry or death?
No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
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 some arm, more lucky than the rest,

Tempests and storms in his afflicted bosom! May reach his heart, and free the world

I dread the consequence.

Lucia. You seem to plead

Against your brother Portius.

Marcia. Lucia, no;

Had Portius been the unsuccessful lover,
The same compassion would have fall'n on him.
Lucia. Portius himself oft falls in tears be-

fore me,

from bondage.

Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help;
Rise and revenge her slaughter'd citizens,
Or share their fate;-

To battle!

Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow;

And Scipio's ghost walks unreveng'd amongst us.

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Disdains a life which he has power to offer. Dec. Rome and her senators submit to Caesar; Her gen'rals and her consuls are no more, Who check'd his conquests, and deny'd his triumphs.

Why will not Cato be this Caesar's friend? Cato. These very reasons thou hast urg'd forbid it.

Dec. Caesar is well acquainted with your virtues,

And therefore sets this value on your life.
Let him but know the price of Cato's friendship,
And name your terms.

Cato. Bid him disband his legions,
Restore the commonwealth to liberty,
Submit his actions to the public censure,

That drew our swords, now wrests them And stand the judgment of a Roman senate.

from our hands,

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Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend. Dec. Cato, the world talks loudly of your wisdom

Cato. Nay, more; though Cato's voice was ne'er employ'd

To clear the guilty, and to varnish crimes, Myself will mount the rostrum in his favour, And strive to gain his pardon from the people. Dec. A style like this becomes a conqueror. Cato. Decius, a style like this becomes a

Roman.

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

Dec. Consider, Cato, you're in Utica, And at the head of your own little senate: You don't now thunder in the capitol, With all the mouths of Rome to second you. Cato. Let him consider that, who drives us hither.

'Tis Caesar's sword has madeRome's senate little, And thinn'd its ranks. Alas! thy dazzled eye Beholds this man in a false, glaring light, Which conquest and success have thrown upon him;

Didst thou but view him right, thou'dst see him black

With murder, treason, sacrilege, and crimes, That strike my soul with horror but to name them.

I know thou look'st on me as on a wretch

Jun. Fathers, e'en now a herald is arriv'd Beset with ills, and cover'd with misfortunes;

From Caesar's

camp,

and with him old Decius,

comes

The Roman knight: he carries in his looks Impatience, and demands to speak with Cato.

enter.

But, by the gods I swear, millions of worlds Should never buy me to be like that Caesar. Dec. Does Cato send this answer back to Caesar,

ship?

Cato. By your permission, fathers-bid him For all his gen'rous cares and proffer'd friend[Exit Junius. Decius was once my friend, but other prospects Have loos'd those ties, and bound him fast to

Caesar.

His message may determine our resolves.
Enter DECIUS.

Dec. Caesar sends health to Cato-
Cato. Could he send it

To Cato's slaughter'd friends, it would be wel

come.

Are not your orders to address the senate? Dec. My business is with Cato; Caesar sees The straits to which you're driv'n; 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 save Cato, bid him spare his country. Tell your dictator this; and tell him, Cato

Cato. His cares for me are insolent and vain:

Presumptuous man! the gods take care of Cato.
Would Caesar show the greatness of his soul,
Bid him employ his care for these my friends,
And make good use of his ill-gotten pow'r,
By shelt'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, attended.
Sem. Cato, we thank thee.
The mighty genius of immortal Rome
Speaks in thy voice; thy soul breathes liberty.
Caesar will shrink to hear the words thou utter'st,
And shudder in the midst of all his conquests.

Luc. The senate owns its gratitude to Cato, Kings far remote, that rule, as fame reports Who with so great a soul consults its safety, Behind the hidden sources of the Nile, And guards our lives, while he neglects his own. In distant worlds, on t'other side the sun; Sem. Sempronius gives no thanks on this Oft have their black ambassadors appear'd,

account.

Lucius seems fond of life; but what is life?
Tis not to stalk about, and draw fresh air
From time to time, or gaze upon the sun;
'Tis to be free. When liberty is gone,
Life grows insipid, and has lost its relish.
Oh, could my dying hand but lodge a sword
In Caesar's bosom, and revenge my country,
By heav'n, I could enjoy the pangs of death,
And smile in agony!

Luc. Others perhaps

May serve their country with as warm a zeal, Though 'tis not kindled into so much rage. Sem. This sober conduct is a mighty virtue In lukewarm patriots.

Cato. Come, no more, Sempronius ; All here are friends to Rome, and to each other. Let us not weaken still the weaker side By our divisions.

Sem. Cato, my resentments Are sacrific'd to Rome-I stand reprov'd. Cato. Fathers, 'tis time you come to a resolve. Luc. Cato, we all go into your opinion: Caesar's behaviour has convinc'd the senate, 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 senate's. Cato. Then let us rise, my friends, strive to fill

Loaden with gifts, and fill'd the courts of Zama. Cato. I am no stranger to thy father's great

ness.

Juba. I do not mean to boast his power and greatness,

But point out new alliances to Cato.
Had we not better leave this Utica,
To arm Numidia in our cause, and court
Th'assistance of my father's powerful friends?
Did they know Cato, our remotest kings
Would pour embattled multitudes about him;
Their swarthy hosts would darken all our plains,
Doubling the native horror of the war,
And making death more grim.

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

Juba. Cato, perhaps

I'm too officious; but my forward cares
Would fain preserve a life of so much value.
My heart is wounded, when I see such virtue
Afflicted by the weight of such misfortunes.

Cato. Thy nobleness of soul obliges me.
But know, young prince, that valour soars above
What the world calls misfortune and affliction.
These are not ills; else would they never fall
and On heav'n's first fav'rites, and the best of men.
The gods, in bounty, work up storms about us,
That give mankind occasion to exert
Their hidden strength, and throw out into
practice

This little interval, this pause of life
(While yet our liberty and fates are doubtful)
With resolution, friendship, Roman bravery,"
And all the virtues we can crowd into it;
That heav'n may say, it ought to be prolong'd.
Fathers, farewell-The young Numidian prince
Comes forward, and expects to know our coun-
sels. [Exeunt Senators.
Enter JUBA.

Juba, the Roman senate has resolv'd,
Till time give better prospects, still to keep
The sword unsheath'd, and turn its edge on
Caesar.

Juba. The resolution fits a Roman senate. But, Cato, lend me for awhile thy patience, And condescend to hear a young man speak. My father, when, some day's before his death, He order'd me to march for Utica,

(Alas! I thought not then his death so near!)
Wept o'er me, press'd me in his aged arms;
And, as his griefs gave way, My son, said he,
Whatever fortune shall befall thy father,
Be Cato's friend; he'll train thee up to great
And virtuous deeds; do but observe him well,
Thou'lt shun misfortunes, or thou'll learn to
bear them.

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

Juba. My father's fate,

In spite of all the fortitude that shines
Before my face in Cato's great example,
Subdues my soul, and fills my eyes with tears.
Cato. It is an honest sorrow, and becomes thee.
Juba. His virtues drew respect from foreign
climes :
The kings of Afric sought him for their friend;

Virtues which shun the day, and lie conceal'd In the smooth seasons and the calms of life. Juba. I'm charm'd whene'er thou talk'st; I pant for virtue;

And all my soul endeavours at perfection. Cato. Dost thou love watchings, abstinence, and toil,

Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato: Success and fortune must thou learn from Caesar.

Juba. The best good fortune that can fall on Juba, The whole success at which my heart aspires, Depends on Cato.

Cato. What does Juba say? Thy words confound me.

Juba. I would fain retract them.

Give them me back again: they aim'd at nothing. Cato. Tell me thy wish, young prince; make not my ear

A stranger to thy thoughts.
Juba. Oh! they're extravagant;
Still let me hide them.

Calo. What can Juba ask,
That Cato will refuse?

Juba. I fear to name it.

Marcia-inherits all her father's virtues.
Calo. What wouldst thou say?

Juba. Cato, thou hast a daughter.
Cato. Adieu, young prince; I would not
hear a word

Remember

Should lessen thee in my esteem.
The hand of fate is over us, and heav'n
Exacts severity from all our thoughts.
It is not now a time to talk of aught

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Syph. How's this, my prince? What, cover'd with confusion?

You look as if yon stern philosopher

Had just now chid you.

Juba. Syphax, I'm undone!

Syph. I know it well.

Juba. Cato thinks meanly of me.
Syph. And so will all mankind.
Juba. I've open'd to him

The weakness of my soul, my love for Marcia.
Syph. Cato's a proper person to intrust
A love tale with!

Juba. Oh, I could pierce my heart,
My foolish heart!

Syph. Alas, my prince, how are you chang'd
of late!

I've known young Juba rise before the sun,
To beat the thicket, where the tiger slept,
Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts.
I've seen you,

Ev'n in the Libyan dog-days, hurt him down,
Then charge him close,

And, stooping from your horse,

Rivet the panting savage to the ground.
Juba. Pr'ythee, no more.

Syph. How would the old king smile,

To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with

gold, ders!

Juba. If knowledge of the world makes men
perfidious,

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

This arrogance unanswer'd! thour't a traitor,
A false old traitor.
[Aside.
Juba. Cato shall know the baseness of thy

Syph. I have gone too far.

soul.

in it.

Syph. I must appease this storm, or perish [Aside. Young prince, behold these locks, that are

grown white

Beneath a helmet in your father's battles.
Juba. Those locks shall ne'er protect thy
insolence.

Syph. Must one rash word, the infirmity of

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rive my such expressions?

heart with

Does not old Syphax follow you to war!

And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoul-What are his aims? to shed the slow remains,

Juba. Syphax, this old man's talk, though honey flow'd

In ev'ry word, would now lose all its sweetness. Cato's displeas'd, and Marcia lost for ever. Syph. Young prince, I yet could give you good advice;

Marcia might still be yours.

Juba. As how, dear Syphax?
Syph. Juba commands Numidia's hardy

troops,

Mounted on steeds unus'd to the restraint
Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:
Give but the word, we snatch this damsel up,
And bear her off.

Juba. Can such dishonest thoughts
Rise up in man! Wouldst thou seduce my youth
To do an act that would destroy mine honour?
Syph. Gods, I could tear my hair to hear
you talk!

Honour's a fine imaginary notion,
That draws in raw and inexperienc'd men
To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.
Juba. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince
into a ruffian?

Syph. The boasted ancestors of these great

men,

Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruf-
fians.

This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,
That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds
All under heav'n, was founded on a rape;
Your Scipios, Caesars, Pompeys, and your Catos
(The gods on earth), are all the spurious blood
Of violated maids, of ravish'd Sabines.

His last poor ebb of blood in your defence? Juba. Syphax, no more! I would not hear you talk.

Syph. Not hear me talk! what, when my faith to Juba,

My royal master's son, is call'd in question?
My prince may strike me dead, and I'll be dumb;
But whilst I five I must not hold my tongue,
And languish out old age in his displeasure.
Juba. Thou know'st the way too well into
my heart.

I do believe thee loyal to thy prince.
Syph. What greater instance can I give?
I've offer'd

To do an action which my soul abhors,
And gain you whom you love, at any price.
Juba. Was this thy motive? I have been
too hasty.

Syph. And 'tis for this my prince has call'd
me traitor.

Juba. Sure thou mistak'st; I did not call thee so.

Syph. 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?

indeed

That Syphax loves you, and would sacrifice
His life, nay more, his honour, in your service?
me; but
Juba. Syphax, I know thou lov'st
Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far.
Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings,
The noble mind's distinguishing perfection,
That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets
her,

Juba. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine
Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles.
Syph. Indeed, my prince, you want to know And imitates her actions where she is not:
It ought not to be sported with.

the world.

Syph. Believe me, prince, you make old Sy-Unusual fastings, and will bear no more Th's medley of philosophy and war.

phax weep

To hear you talk-but 'tis with tears of joy.
If e'er your father's crown adorn your brows,
Numidia will be blest by Cato's lectures.
Juba. Syphax, thy hand; we'll mutually forget Within the square, to exercise their arms,
The warmth of youth, and frowardness of age: And, as I see occasion, favour thee.
Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy I laugh to see how your unshaken Cato

Within an hour they'll storm the senate-house.
Syph. Meanwhile I'll draw up my Numi-
dian troops

person.

If e'er the sceptre come into my hand,
Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom.
Syph. Why will you o'erwhelm my age
with kindness?

Will look aghast, while unforeseen destruction Pours in upon him thus from every side.

So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend, Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend, My joys grow burdensome, I shan't support it. Wheel through th' air, in circling eddies play, Juba. Syphax, farewell. I'll hence, and try Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains

to find

away.

Some blest occasion, that may set me right The helpless traveller, with wild surprise,
In Cato's thoughts. I'd rather have that man Sees the dry desert all around him rise,
Approve my deeds, than worlds for my admir-And, smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies.

ers.

[Exit.

Syph. Young men soon give, and soon for

get affronts;

Old age is slow in both-A false old traitor!These words, rash boy, may chance to cost thee dear.

My heart had still some foolish fondness for thee,

But hence, 'tis gone! I give it to the winds: Caesar, I'm wholly thine.

Enter SEMPRONIUS.

All hail, Sempronius!

Well, Cato's senate is resolv'd to wait
The fury of a siege, before it yields.
Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge
of fate;

Lucius declar'd for peace, and terms were of fer'd

To Cato, by a messenger from Caesar.
Syph. But how stands Cato?

Sem. Thou hast seen mount Atlas:

Whilst storms and tempets 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 soul,
Midst all the shocks and injuries of fortune,
Rises superior, and looks down on Caesar.
Syph. But what's this messenger?
Sem. I've practis'd with him,

And found a means to let the victor know,
That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends.
But let me now examine in my turn;
Is Juba fix'd?

Syph. Yes-but it is to Cato.
I've tried the force of ev'ry reason on him,
Sooth'd and caress'd; been angry,
sooth'd again;
Laid safety, life, and interest in his sight;
But all are vain, he scorns them all for Cato.
Sem. Well, 'tis no matter; we shall do
without him.

Sobas, I now may hope, thou hast forsook
Thy Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine.
Syph. May she be thine as fast as thou
wouldst have her.

But are thy troops prepar'd for a revolt?
Does the sedition catch from man to man,
And run among the ranks?

Sem. All, all is ready;

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

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The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise Sink in the soft captivity together.

Marc. Alas, thou talk'st like one that never felt

Th' impatient throbs and longings of a soul,
That pants and reaches after distant good!
A lover does not live by vulgar time:
Believe me, Portius, in my Lucia's absence
Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden;
And yet, when I behold the charming maid,
I'm ten times more undone; while hope, and
fear,

And grief, and rage, and love, rise up at once,'
And with variety of pain distract me.

Por. What can thy Portius do to give thee help?

Marc. Portius, thou oft enjoy'st the fair one's presence;

Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her
With all the strength and heat of eloquence
Fraternal love and friendship can inspire.
Tell her thy brother languishes to death,
And fades away, and withers in his bloom;
That he forgets his sleep, and loathes his food,
That youth, and health, and war, are joyless
to him;

The factious leaders are our friends, that spread
Murmurs and discontents among the soldiers;
They count their toilsome marches, long fa- Describe his anxious days, and restless nights
And all the torments that thou sce'st me suffer

tigues,

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