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seen you,

Cato. Thy nobleness of soul obliges me. To beat the thicket where the tiger Nept, But know, young prince, that valour foars Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts : above

How did the colour mount into your cheeks, What the world calls misfortune and affliction. When first you rous’d him to the chace ! I've These are not ills; clle would they never fall On Heaven's first fav'rites, and the best of inen. Ev'n in the Libyan dog-days, hunt him down, The gods, in bounty, work up storms about us, Then charge him close, provoke him to the rage That give mankind occasion to exert

Of fangs and claws, and, stooping from your Their hidden strength, and throw out into horse, practice

River the panting savage to the ground. Virtues which thun the day, and lie conceal'd Jub. Prythee, no more. In the smooth seasons and the calms of life. Sy. How would the old king smile Jub. I'm charm’d whene'er thou talk'st; 1 To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with pant for virtue ;

gold, And all my foul endeavours at perfection. And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoulCato. Doft thou love watchings, abstinence, ders! and toil,

Jub. Syphax,, this old man's talk, tho' honey Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato :

flow'd Success and fortune must thou learn from Cæsar. In cv'ry word, would now lose all its sweetness, fub. The best good fortune that can fall on Cato's displeas'd, and Marcia lot for ever. Juba,

Sy. Young prince, I yet could give you good The whole fuccess at which my heart aspires,

advice, Depends on Cato.

Marcia might still be yours. Cato. What does Juba say?

Jub. What fay's thou, Syphax? Thy words confound me.

By Heavens, thou turn'st me all into attention. Jub. I would fain retract them.

Sy. Marcia might ftill be yours. Give 'em me back again : they aim'd at no Jub. As how, dear Syphax? thing.

Sy. Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops, Cite. Tell me thy wish, young prince, make Mounied on steeds unus'd to the restraint not my car

Of curbs or bies, and feeter than the winds. A stranger to thy thoughts.

Give but the word, we'll snatch this damfel up, Hub. 0, thcy're extravagant;

And bear her oft. Still let me hide them.

Jub. Can such dishonest thoughts Cało. What can Juba ask

Rise up in man? Wouldit thou seduce my youth That Cato will refule ?

To do an act that would deftroy my honour? Jub. I fear to name it :

Sy. Gods, I could tear my bair to hear you talk! Marcia-inherits all her father's virtues. Honour 's a fine imaginary notion, Cało. What woulds thou fay?

That draws in raw and unexperienc'd men Fub. Cato, thou hast a daughter.

To real mischiefs, while they hunt a lhadow. Cato. Adieu, young prince; I would not hear Jub. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a a word

ruffian Should leflen thee in my elteem. Remember Sy. The boasted ancesors of these great men, The hand of fate is over us, and Heaven W'hose virrues you admire, were all such rufe Exacts severity from all our thoughts.

fians. It is not now a time to talk of aught

This dread of nations, this almighty Rome, But chains, or conqueft; liberty, or death. That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds

¿Exit. All under heaven, was founded on a rape; · Enter Siphax.

Your Scipios, Cxfars, Pompeys, and your Caros, Sy. Haw's this, my prince! What, cover'd (The gods on carth) are all the fpurious brood with confusion

Of vjolated maids, of ravish'd Sabines. Y u look as if yon ftern philosopher

Jub. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine Had just now chid you.

Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles. Jub. Syphax, I'm undone.

Sy. Indeed, my prince, you want to know the Sy. I know it well.

world. Jub. Cato thinks meanly of me.

You have not read mankind ; your youth ad. Sv. And so will all mankind.

mires Jub. I've open'd to him

The throes and swellings of a Roman foul, Tre weakness of my foul, my love for Marcia. Cato's bold fights, th' extravagance of virtue. Sy. Cato's a proper person to intrus

Jub. If knowledge of the world inakes mas A love-tale with!

perfidious, Jub. O, I could pierce my heart,

May Juba ever live in ignorance !
My foolish heart. Was ever wretch like Juba ? Sy. Go, go; you 're young.
Sy. Alas, my prince, how are you chang'd of fub. Gods, must I tamcly bear

This arrogance unanswer’d? Thou 'nt a traitor, I've known young Juba rise before the sun, JA false old traitor.


Sy. I have gone too far.

[ Afide. A blind officious zeal to serve my king Juó. Cato fall know the baseness of thy foul. The ruling principle, that ought to burn Sy. I must appease this storm, or perish in it. And quench all others in a subject's heart.

[ Afide. Happy the people who preserve their honour Young prince, behold these locks, that are grown By the same duties that oblige their prince. white

Jub. Syphax, thou now beginn'st to speak Beneath a helmet in your father's battles.

thylelf, Jub. Thole locks thall ne'er protect thy in- Numidia's grown a scorn among the nations, folence.

For breach of public vows. Our Punic faith Sy. Must one rash word, ch' infirmity of age, Is infamous, and branded to a proverb. Throw down ihe mcrit of my better years ?

Syphax, we 'll join our cares, to purge away This the reward of a whole life of service! Our country's crimes, and clear her reputation. Curte on the boy ! how steadily he hears me ! Sv. Believe me, prince, you make old Syphax

[ Aside. weep, Jub. le it because the throne of my forefathers To hear you talk-but 'ris with tears of joy. Suill stands untiilid, and that Numidia's crown If e'er your father's crown adorn your brows, Hangs doubtful yet whoíc hcad it thall inclofi, Numidia will be bleft by Cato's lectures. Thu thus prelim'it to treat thy prince with Jub. Syphax, thy hand; we'll mutually forget fcorn ?

The warmth of youth, and frowardness of age: Si, Why will you rive my heart with such ex-Thy prince eftcems thy worth, and loves thy. preilions ?

person, Does not old Syphax follow you to war?

If e'er the fceptre comes into my hand, What are his aiins ? Why does he load with darts Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom. His trembling hand, and crush bencath a calque Sy. Why will you overwhelm my age with His wrinkled brows? What is it he aspires to ?

kinduess ? Is it not this to shed the flow reinains, My joy grows burdensome, I lan't support it. His last poor clb of blood in your defence? Jub, Syphax, farewel. I'll hence, and try to Jub. Syphiax, no more! I would not hear you

find taik.

Some blest occasion that may set me right Sy. Not hear me talk ! what, when my faith In Cato's thoughts, I'd rather have that man to Juba,

Approve my deeds, than worlds for my adMy royal master's son, is callid in question ?


Í Exit. My prince may Itrike me dead, and I'll be Jumb; Sy, Young men foon give, and soon furget But whilft I live ( must not hold my tongue,

affronts ; Andi languish out old age in his displeasure.

Old is low in both-A false old traitor! Jub, Thou know'st the way too well into my These words, ralh boy, may chance to coit thee heart.

dcar. I do believe thee loyal to thy prince.

My heart had still some foolish fondness for Sy. What greater instance can I give? I've

thee: otler'd

But hence! 'tis gone : I give it to the winds : To do an aäion which my soul abhors, Cæfar, I 'm wholly thine. And yain you whom you love at any price. Hub. Was this thy motive: I've been too hästy.

Enter Sempronius, S;. And 'tis for this my prince has call'd me All hail, Sempronius ! traitor.

Well, Cato's lenate is resolv'd to wait Jub. Sure thou mistak'st; I did not call thee so. The fury of a fiege before it yields. Sy. You did indeed, my prince, you call'd me Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge of traitor;

fate: Nay, further, threaten'd you 'd complain to Caro. Lucius declar'd for peace, and terms were offer'd Of what, my prince, would you complain to Cato To Cato, by a messenger from Cæfar. Thar Syphax loves you, and would facrifice Should they submit ere our designs are ripe, His life, nay, more, his honour, in vour fervice. We both must perish in the common wreck, Jub, Syphax, I know thou lov'st me; but Loft in the gen’ral undistinguilh'd ruin. indeed

Sy. But how ftands Cato? Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far.

Somn, Thou haft feen mount Atlas : Honour 's a sacred tie, the law of kings, Whilit forms and tempests thunder on its brows, The noble mind's diftinguithing perfection, And oceans break their billows at its feet, That aids and trengthens virtue where it meets It ítands unmov'd, and glories in its height: her,

Such is that haughty man; his tow'ring foul, And imitatcs her actions where she is not ; Midft all the shocks and injuries of fortune, It ought not to be iported with.

Riles fuperior, and looks down on Cæfar. Sy. By Heavens,

Sy. But what is this messenger ? I'm ravish'd when you talk thus, tho' you chide Sem. I've practis'd with him, me !

And found a means to let the victor know Alas! I've hitherto been us'd to think That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends.

X xa



But let me now examine in my lurn:

Marc, Portius, thou know's my soul in all its Is Juba fix'd ?

weakness, Sy. Yes—but it is to Cato.

Then proythee spare me on its tender side. I've tried the force of every reason on him, Indulge me but in love, my other passions Sooth'd and caress’d; been angry, footh'd again : Shall rise and fali by virtue's nicest rules. Laid safety, life, and int'rest in his sight.

Por. When love's well-tim'd, 'uis not a fault But all are vain, he scorns them all for Cato.

to love. Sem. Come, 'tis no matter; we thall do with. The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the out him.

wile, He'll make a pretty figure in a triumph, Sink in the soft captivity together. And serve to trip before the victor's chariot. I would not urge thee to dilmiss thy paffion, Syphax, I now may hope thou hast forsook (I know 'twere vain) but to supprets its force, Thy Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine. Till better times may make it look more graceSy. May she be chine as fast as thou wouldn ful. have her!

Marc. Alas! thou talk' it like one who never Sem. Syphax, I love that woman ; tho' I curse felt Her and myself, yet, spite of me, I love her. Th' impatient throbs and longings of a soul

Sy. Make Cató fure, and give up Utica, That pants and reaches after difiant good. Cæfar will ne'er refuse thee such a trifle. A lover docs not live by vulgar time: But are thy troops prepar'd for a revolt? Believe me, Portius, in my Lucia's absence Does the sedition catch from man to man, Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden; And run among their ranks?

And yet, when I behold the cha ming maid, Sem. All, all is ready.

l'n ten times more undone; while hope and fear, The fa&tious leaders are our friends, that spread And grief, ard rage, and love, rise up at once, Murmurs and discontents among the soldiers; And with varicry of pain distract me. They count their toilsome marches, long fa Por. What can thy Porrius du to give thee tigues,

help Unusual faftings, and will bear no more

Mac. Porrius, thou oft enjoy'st the fair-one's This medley of philosophy and war.

presence; Within an hour they 'll form the senate-house. Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her Sy. Meanwhile I'll draw up my Numidian with all the strength and heat of eloquence troops

Fraternal love and friendship can inspire. Within the square, to exercise their arms, Tell her thy brother languishes to death, And, as I fee occasion, favour thee.

And fades away, and withers in his bloom; I laugh to think how your unfhaken Cato That he forgets his sleep, and loaths his food; Will look aghaft, while unforefcen deftruction That youth, and health, and war are joyless to Pours in upon him thus from every side.

So where our wide Numidian wastes extend, Describe his anxious days, and resless nights, Sudden, th' impetuous hurricanes descend, And ail the torments that thou feeft me suffer. Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play, Por. Marcus, I beg thee, give me not an office Tear up the lands, and swcep whole plains That suits with me to ill. Thou know'tt my

tenper. The helpless traveller, with wild surprises

Marc. Wilt thou behold me finking in my Sees the dry defert all around him rile,

woes, And, fmother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies. And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,

[Exeunt. To raise me from amidit this plunge of forrows?

Por. Marcus, thou canst not alk what I'd re


But here, believe me, I've a thousand reasons Аст III.

Marc, I know thou 'st say my pallion 's out of

fea!on, Eviter Marcus and Portius,

That Cato's great example and misfortunes

Should both conspire to drive it from my thoughts. Marc. THANKS to my stars, I have not rang'a But what's all this to one that loves like ine ?

O Portius, Pori ius, from my fout I with The wilds of life, ere I could find a friend : Thou dijft but know thyself what 'tis to love ! Nature first pointed out my Portius to me, Then wouldit thou pity and atlist thy brother, And early taught me, by her sacred force, Por. What thould I do! If I disclose my To love thy person ere I knew thy merit,

passion, Till what was instinct grew up into friendship. Our friendfhip 's at an end ; if I conceal it, Por. Marcus, the friendships of the world are The world will call me falfe to a friend and oft


[Ande. Confed'racies in vice, or leagues of pleasure ; Marc. But see where Lucia, at her worted Ours has feverest virtue for its balis,

hour, And such a friend hip ends not but with life. Amid the cool of yon high marble arch,


him :


Enjoys the noon-day breezel Observe her, Portius; But, O! I'll think no more! the hand of fate
That face, that hape, those eyes, that heaven of Has torn thee from me, and I must forget thee.

Por. Hard-hearted, cruel maid !
Observe her well, and blame me if thou canft. Luc. O stop those sounds,
Por. She sees us, and advances.

Those killing sounds! Why dost thou frown upon
Marc. I'll withdraw,

me ? And leave you for a while. Remember, Portius, My blood runs cold, my heart forgets to heave, Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue.

And life itself goes out at thy dilpleasure.

[Exit. The gods forbid us to indulge our loves ;
Enter Lucia.

But, O! I cannot bear thy hate, and live.
Luc. Did not I see your brother Marcus here? Por. Talk not of love, thou never knew's its
Why did he fly the place, and thun my picsence ?

Por. O Lucia! language is too faint to few I've been deluded, led into a dream
His rage of love ; it preys upon his life ; Of fancicd bliss. O Lucia, cruel maid !
He pines, he fickens, he despairs, he dics: Thy dreadful vow, loaden with death, still sounds
His paflions and his virtues lie confus'd, in iny funn'd ears. What shall I lay or do?
And mixt together in fo wild a tumult, Quick let us part! Perdition 's in thy presence,
That the whole man is quite disfigur’d in him. And horror dwells about thee !--Ha! the faints!
Heavens! would one think ’twere pollible for love Wretch that I am, what has my rashness done!
To make such ravaye in a noble soul?

Lucia, thou injur'd innocence! thou best
O Lucia! I'm diitrist; my heart bleeds for him: And loveliest of thy fex! awake, my Lucia,
Er'n now, while thus I stand blest in thy prefence, Or Portius rushes on his sword to join thee.
A secret damp of giief comes o'cr my thoughts, -Her imprecations reach not to the tomb,
And I'm unhappy, tho' thou smil's upon me. They shut not out fociety in death-
Luc. How wilt thou guard thy honour, in the But, ah! The moves, life wanders up and down

Thro' all her face, and lights up ev'ry charm.
Of love and friendship? Think betimes, my Por Luc. O Portius, was this well-to frown on her

That lives upon thy smiles ? to call in doubt
Think how the nuptial tie, that might ensure The faith of one expiring at thy feet,
Our mutual bliss, would raise to such a height That loves thee more than ever woman lov'd?
Thy brother's griefs, as might perhaps destroy -What do I lay! My half-recover'd sense

Forgets the vow in which my soul is bound.
Por. Alas, poor youth! what dost thou think, Deltruction stands betwixt us; we must part.

Por. Name not the word: my frighted thoughts His gen'rous, open, undesigning heart

run back, Has begg'd his rival to folicit for him ;

And startle into madness at the found.
Then do not strike him dead with a denial; Luc, What would it thou have me do? Consider
But hold him up in life, and cheer his foul

With the faint glimm'riny of a doubtful hope : The train of ills our love would draw behind it.
Perhaps when we have pais'd these gloomy hours. Think, Portius, think thou feeft thy dying
And weather'd out the form tiat beats upon brother

Srabb'd at his heart, and all besinear'd with blood,
Luc. No, Portius, no; I see thy fifter's tears, Storming at Heaven and thee! Thy awful fire
Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death, Sternly demands the cause, th'accursed cause,
In the pursuit of our iil-fated loves :

That robs him of his son: poor Marcia trembles,
And, Portius, here I swear, to Heaven I swear, Then tears her hair, and, frantic in her griefs,
To Heaven and all the powers that judge mankind, Calls out on Lucia. What could Lucia answer,
Never to mix my plighted hands with thine, Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow?
While such a cloud of mischicts hang about us, Por. To my confusion, and eternal grief,
But to forget our loves, and drive thee out I must approve the sentence that destroys me.
From all my thoughts as far—as I am able. The mist that hung about my mind clears up;
Por. What halt thou faid? I'm thunderstruck- And now, athwart the terrors that thy vow

Hlas planted round thee, thou appear'ít more fair,
Those hafty words, or I am loft for ever. Morc amiable, and rifeft in thy charms.

Lut. Has not the vow already pass'd my lips : Loveliest of women! Heaven is in thy soul;
The gods have heard it, and 'tis leald in heaven. Beauty and virtue shine for ever round thee,
May all the vengeance that was ever pour'd Bright'ning each other; thou art all divine.
On perjur J heads o crwhelm me, if I break it! Luc. Portius, no more; thy words shoot thro'
Por. “Fix'd in astonishment, I gaze upon thce,

my heart,
Like one just blalted by a stroke from Heaven, Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love.
Who pants for brcath, and stiffens, yet alive, Why are those tears of fondnefs in thy cyes?
In dreadful looks; a monument of wrath! Why leaves thy hcast; why swells thy soul with

Luc. At length I've acted my feverest part ; forrow?
I feel the woman breaking in upon me, It softens me too much-farewel, my Portius;
And melt about my heart; my tears will now. Farewel, tho' death is in the word for ever!


my Lucia


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Por. Stay, Lucia, stay! What dost thou say ? Por. A second, louder yet,
For ever

Swells in the winds, and comes more full upon us.
Luc. Have I not sworn? If, Portius, thy success Marc. O, for some glorious cause to fall in battle!
Must throw thy brother on his fate, farewel Lucia, thou haft undone me; thy dildain
0, how thall I repeat the word, for ever! Has broke my heart: 'tis death must give me ease.

Por. Thus o'er the dying lamp th’unsteady flame Por. Quick, let us hence. Who knows if Cato's Hangs quiv'ring on a point, leaps off by fits,

Jife And falls again, as loth to quit its hold. Stands sure? O Marcus, I am warın'd, my heart -Thou must not go; my soul itill hovers o'er thee, Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory. And can't get loose.

[Exeunt, Luc. If the firm Portius shakes To hear of parting, think what Lucia fuffers !

Enter Sempronius, with the Leaders of the Mutiny. Por. 'Tis true, unrufiled and serene, I 've met Sem. At length the winds are rais’d, the form The common accidents of life; but here

blows high : Such an unlook'd-for storm of ills falls on me, Be it your care, my friends, to keep it

up It beats down all my strength. I cannot bear it. In its full fury, and direct it right, We must not part.

Till it has spent ittelf on Caro's head. Luc. What doft thou say? Not part ! Meanwhile I 'll herd among his friends, and secm Hast thou forgot the vow that I have made ? One of the number, tliat, white'er arrive, Are there nct heavens, and gods, that thunder My friends and fellow-soldiers may be safe. o'er us?

Exit. - But see thy brother Marcus bends this way; if Lead. We are all safe, Sempronius is our I ficken at the fight. Once more, farewel,

friend. Farewel, and know thou wrong'st me, if thou Sempronius is as brave a man as Cato. think'it

But hark! he enters. Bear up boldly to him; Ever was love, or ever grief, like mine! Be sure you beat him down, and bind him faft.

[Exit Lucia. This day will end our toils, and give us reft : Enter Marcus.

Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.
Marc. Portius, what hopes : How stands the?
Am I doom'd

Re-enter Sempronius, witb Cało, Lucius, Portins, To life or death?

and Macus. Por. What wouldst thou have me say?

Cato. Where are these bold intrepid sons of war, Marc. What means this pensive posture? Thou That greatly turn their backs upon the foe, appear'st

And to their general send a brave defiance? Like one amaz'd and terrified.

Sem. Curse on their dastard souls, they fand Por. I've reason.


[ Afiche. Marc. Thy down-cast looks, and thy disorder'd Calo. Perfidious men! And will you thius difthoughts,

honour Telline my fate. I ask not the success Your past exploits, and sully all your wars ? My cause has found.

Do you confefs 'twas not a zeal for Rome, Por. I'm griev'd I undertook it.

Nor love of liberty, nor thirst of honour, Marc. What! does the barbarous maid insult Drew you thus far; but hopes to fhare the spoil my heart,

Of conquer'd towns, and plunderd provinces My aching heart, and triumph in my pains ? Fir'd with such morires, you do well to join That I could cast her fiom my thoughts for ever! With Cato's foes, and follow Cæsar's banners.

Por, Away, you're too suspicious in your griefs; Why did I 'scape th' envenom daljic's rage, Lucia, though sworn never to think of love, And all the fiery monsters of the defert, Compatlionates your pains, and pities you, To see this day Why could not Cato fall

Marc. Compassionates my pains, and pities me! Without your guilt? Behull, ungrateful men, What is com pallion, when 'tis void of love? Behold my bolom naked to your swords, Fool that I was to choose so cold a friend And let the man that 's injur'd strike the blow. To urge my cause! Compassionates my pains! Which of you all suspects that he is wrong'd, Prythee what

what rhet'ric didit thou use Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Caro? To gain this mighty boon ?--She pitics me! Am I diftinguith'd from you but by toils, To one that asks the warm returns of love, Superior toils, and heavier weight of cares? Compassion 's cruelty, ’uis scorn, ’ris death Painful pre-eminence! Por. Marcus, no more ; have I deserv'd this Sem. By Heavens they droop! treatment?

Confusion to the villains; all is lost. [ Afide. Marc, What have I said! O Portius, O, for Calo. Have you forgotten Libya's burning waste, give me!

Its barren rocks, parch'd earth, and hills of sand, A soul exasperate in ills falls out

Its tainted air, and all its broods of poison ? With ev'ry thing, its friend, itself-hat, ha! Who was the first to explore th' untrodden path, What means that shout, big with the sounds of When life was hazarded in ev'ry step? war?

Or, fainting in the long laborious march, What new alarms.

When on the banks of an unlook'd-for stream



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