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! And drive it in a tempest on the foe. The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue, Juba. Thy reproofs are just, Then bids me hide the motions of my heart, But to the gods submit th' event of things. So the pure, limpid stream, when foul with stains Of rushing torrents, and descending rains, And a new heav'n in its fair bosom shows. ACT II. SCENE I.-The Senate-house. Flourish. SEMPRONIUS, LUCIUS, and Senators discovered. Thou virtuous maid; I'll hasten to my troops, who hopes [Exit. For Marcia's love. And drive him from you with so stern an air; sink away In pleasing dreams, and lose myself in love, Who have so many griefs to try its force? Marcia. Lucia, disburden all thy cares on me, I long to know, and yet I dread to hear it. Ob, Portius, thou hast stol'n away my soul! How will thy coldness raise Sem. Rome still survives in this assembled senate. Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, What course to take. Our foe advances on us, To hold it out, and fight it to the last? By time and ill success, to a submission? Sem. My voice is still for war. 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, fore me, from bondage. Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help; To battle! Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow; And Scipio's ghost walks unreveng'd amongst us. 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. Cato. Bid him disband his legions, That drew our swords, now wrests them And stand the judgment of a Roman senate. from our hands, 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. Dec. Caesar sends health to Cato- 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. You are a man. You rush on your destruction. 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? 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. Cato. And canst thou think Juba. Cato, perhaps I'm too officious; but my forward cares Cato. Thy nobleness of soul obliges me. This little interval, this pause of life Juba, the Roman senate has resolv'd, 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!) Cato. Juba, thy father was a worthy prince, Juba. My father's fate, In spite of all the fortitude that shines 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. Calo. What can Juba ask, Juba. I fear to name it. Marcia-inherits all her father's virtues. Juba. Cato, thou hast a daughter. Remember Should lessen thee in my esteem. 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. The weakness of my soul, my love for Marcia. Juba. Oh, I could pierce my heart, Syph. Alas, my prince, how are you chang'd I've known young Juba rise before the sun, Ev'n in the Libyan dog-days, hurt him down, And, stooping from your horse, Rivet the panting savage to the ground. 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 May Juba ever live in ignorance! This arrogance unanswer'd! thour't a traitor, 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. Syph. Must one rash word, the infirmity of 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? troops, Mounted on steeds unus'd to the restraint Juba. Can such dishonest thoughts Honour's a fine imaginary notion, Syph. The boasted ancestors of these great men, Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruf- This dread of nations, this almighty Rome, 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? I do believe thee loyal to thy prince. To do an action which my soul abhors, Syph. And 'tis for this my prince has call'd 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 Juba. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine 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. Within an hour they'll storm the senate-house. person. If e'er the sceptre come into my hand, 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, 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 Lucius declar'd for peace, and terms were of fer'd To Cato, by a messenger from Caesar. Sem. Thou hast seen mount Atlas: Whilst storms and tempets thunder on its brows, And found a means to let the victor know, Syph. Yes-but it is to Cato. Sobas, I now may hope, thou hast forsook But are thy troops prepar'd for a revolt? Sem. All, all is ready; ACT III. [Exeunt. 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, And grief, and rage, and love, rise up at once,' 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 The factious leaders are our friends, that spread tigues, |