Enter Cato. And breathes the fofteft, the fincerest vows! 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 Lucia, thou know'st not half the love he bears thee? Whene'er he speaks of thee, his heart 's in flames, And Rome attends her fate from our refolves. Still facke with blood. 'Tis time we fhould 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 I dread the confequence. Mar. Heaven forbid ! Had Portius been the unfuccessful lover, hours. So the pure limpid ftream, when foul with stains ACT II. SCENE, the Senate. [Exeunt. Lucius, Sempronius, and OME ftill furvives in this affembled Sem. ROME fenate ! Let us remember we are Cato's friends, 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 Sem. My voice is still for war. Perhaps fome arm, more lucky than the reft, Rife, fathers, rife 'tis Rome demands your help; Gicat Pompey's fhade complains that we are flow; Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal That juftice warrants, and that wifdom guides; Already have our quarrels fill'd the world (Prompted by blind revenge and wild despair) And bids us not delight in Roman blood Sem. This fmooth difcourfe, and mild beha- Conceal a traitor. Something whispers me 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 threatens ev'ry hour to burst upon it. 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. tues, And therefore fets this value on your life. 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. And ftrive to gain his pardon from the people. man. Dec. What is a Roman, that is Cæfar's foe? Dec. Confider, Cato, you 're in Utica, 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 Which conqueft and fuccefs have thrown upon With murder, treafont, facrilege, and crimes For all his gen'rous cares and proffer'd friendhip? Cato. His cares for me are infolent and vain : You are a man; you rush on your destruction. [Exit Decius. 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, Jub. The refolution fits a Roman fenate. 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 Jub. My father drew respect from foreign climes : The kings of Afric fought him for their friend Jub. I would not boast the greatness of my father, But point out new alliances to Cato. 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 Doubling the native horror of the war, Cato. And canft thou think 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 And all my foul endeavours at perfection. Cato. Doft thou love watchings, abftinence, and toil, Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato: The whole fuccefs at which my heart afpires, 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 To beat the thicket where the tiger flept, Ev'n in the Libyan dog-days, hunt him down, Rivet the panting favage to the ground. 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. Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops, 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 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. A love-tale with! Jub. O, I could pierce my heart, 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, May Juba ever live in ignorance! This arrogance unanfwer'd? Thou 'rt a traitor, Sy [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? Jub. Syphax, no more! I would not hear you! talk. Sy. Not hear me talk! what, when my faith My royal master's fon, is call'd in question? Jub, Thou know'ft the way too well into my 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, 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. Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far. And imitates her actions where she is not; Sy. By Heavens, Numidia's grown a fcorn among the nations, weep, To hear you talk-but 'tis with tears of joy. 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, My joy grows burdenfome, I fhan't support it. find All hail, Sempronius! Well, Cato's fenate is refolv'd to wait Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge of fate: Lucius declar'd for peace, and terms were offer'd 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 |