PORTIU S.

Heaven knows I pity thee: behold my eyes Ev'n whilst I speak.-Do they not swim in tears? Were but my heart as naked to thy view, Marcus would fee it bleed in his behalf.

MARCUS.

Why then doft treat me with rebukes, instead Of kind condoling cares and friendly forrow? PORTIU S.

O Marcus, did I know the way to ease Thy troubled heart, and mitigate thy pains, Marcus, believe me, I could die to do it.

MARCU S.

Thou beft of brothers, and thou beft of friends! Pardon a weak diftemper'd foul, that fwells With fudden gufts, and finks as foon in calms, The fport of paffions-But Sempronius comes : He must not find this softness hanging on me. [Exit.

SCENE II.

SEMPRONIUS.

Confpiracies no fooner fhould be form'd

Than executed. What means Portius here?
I like not that cold youth. I must diffemble,
And speak a language foreign to my heart.

SEMPRONIUS, PORTIUS.

SEM PRONIUS.

Good morrow, Portius! let us once embrace, Once more embrace; whilft yet we both are free.

To

To-morrow should we thus express our friendship,
Each might receive a flave into his arms.

This fun perhaps, this morning fun, 's the laft
That e'er fhall rife on Roman liberty.

PORTIU S.

My father has this morning call'd together To this poor hall his little Roman Senate (The leavings of Pharfalia), to confult

If yet he can oppose the mighty torrent

That bears down Rome, and all her gods, before it, Or must at length give up the world to Cæfar.

SEMPRONIUS.

Not all the pomp and majefty of Rome
Can raife her Senate more than Cato's prefence.
His virtues render our affembly awful,

They ftrike with fomething like religious fear,
And make ev'n Cafar tremble at the head

Of armies flush'd with conqueft: O my Portius,
Could I but call that wondrous man my father,
Would but thy fifter Marcia be propitious

To thy friend's vows: I might be bless'd indeed!

PORTIU S.

Alas! Sempronius, would'st thou talk of love To Marcia, whilft her father's life's in danger? Thou might'ft as well court the pale trembling Vestal, When the beholds the holy flame expiring.

SEMPRONIUS.

The more I fee the wonders of thy race,

The more I'm charm'd. Thou must take heed, my

Portius !

The

The world has all its eyes on Cato's fon.
Thy father's merit fets thee up to view,
And fhows thee in the fairest point of light,
To make thy virtues or thy faults confpicuous.

PORTIU S.

Well doft thou feem to check my lingering here On this important hour-I'll strait away; And while the fathers of the Senate meet In clofe debate, to weigh th' events of war, I'll animate the foldiers' drooping courage, With love of freedom, and contempt of life. I'll thunder in their ears their country's caufe, And try to rouze up all that 's Roman in them. 'Tis not in mortals to command fuccefs, But we 'll do more, Sempronius; we'll deferve it.

SEMPRONIUS.

Curfe on the ftripling! How he apes his fire!
Ambitiously fententious!-But I wonder

Old Syphax comes not; his Numidian genius
Is well difpos'd to mifchief, were he prompt
And cager on it; but he must be spurr‍d,
And every moment quicken'd to the course.
Cato has us'd me ill: he has refus'd
His daughter Marcia to my ardent vows.
Befides, his baffled arms and ruin'd caufe

Are bars to my ambition. Cæfar's favour,

[Exit.

That showers down greatnefs on his friends, will raife ine To Rome's first honours. If I give up Cato,

I claim in my reward his captive daughter.

But Syphax comes !—

SCENE III.

SYPHAX,

SEMPRONIUS.

SY PHA X.

-Sempronius, all is ready.

I've founded my Numidians, man by man,
And find them ripe for a revolt: they all
Complain aloud of Cato's difcipline,

And wait but the command to change their mafter.
SEMPRONIUS.

Believe me, Syphax, there's no time to waste ; Ev'n whilst we speak, our conqueror comes on, And gathers ground upon us every moment. Alas thou know'ft not Cæfar's active foul, With what a dreadful course he rushes on From war to war: in vain has nature form'd Mountains and oceans to oppofe his passage; He bounds o'er all, victorious in his march; The Alps and Pyreneans fink before him; Through winds, and waves, and storms, he works his way,

Impatient for the battle: one day more

Will fet the victor thundering at our gates.
But tell me, haft thou yet drawn-o'er young Juba?
That ftill would recommend thee more to Cæfar,
And challenge better terms—

SYPHA X.

-Alas! he 's loft,

He's loft, Sempronius; all his thoughts are full
Of Cato's virtues-But I'll try once more

(For

(For every inftant I expect him here)

If yet I can fubdue those stubborn principles
Of faith, of honour, and I know not what,
That have corrupted his Numidian temper,
And ftruck th' infection into all his foul.

SEMPRONIUS.

Be fure to prefs upon him every motive.
Juba's furrender, fince his father's death,
Would give up Afric into Cæfar's hands,
And make him lord of half the burning Zone.

SY PHAX.

But is it true, Sempronius, that your Senate
Is call'd together? Gods! thou must be cautious!
Cato has piercing eyes, and will discern

Our frauds, unless they 're cover'd thick with art.
SEMPRONIUS.

Let me alone, good Syphax, I'll conceal
My thoughts in paffion, ('tis the fureft way);
I'll bellow out for Rome and for my country,
And mouth at Cæfar till I fhake the Senate.
Your cold hypocrify 's a ftale device,

A worn-out trick: wouldst thou be thought in earneft? Clothe thy feign'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury!

SY PHAX.

In troth, thou 'rt able to inftruct grey-hairs, And teach the wily African deceit !

SEMPRONIUS.

Once more, be fure to try thy skill on Juba; Mean while I'll haften to my Roman foldiers,