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On Afric sands disfigur'd with their wounds,
To gorge the wolves and vultures of Numidia.
7ub. Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh
My father's name brings tears into my eyes.
Syph. Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills!
Jub. What wouldst thou have me do
Syph. Abandon Cato.
jub. Syphax, I shou’d be more than twice an orphan
By such a loss.
Syph. Aye, there's the tie that binds you I
You long to call him father. Marcia's charms
Work in your heart unseen, and plead for Cato.
No wonder you are deaf to all I say.
jub. Syphax, your zeal becomes importunate;
I’ve hitherto permitted it to rave,
And talk at large; but learn to keep it in,
Lest it should take more freedom than I’ll give it.
Syph. Sir, your great father never us’d me thus.
Alas, he's dead! but can you e'er forget
The tender sorrows, and the pangs of nature,
“The fond embraces, and repeated blessings,”
which you drew from him in your last farewell
Still must I cherish the dear, sad remembrance,
At once to torture and to please my soul.
The good old king at parting wrung my hand
(His eyes brim-full of tears), then sighing, cry’d,
Pr’ythee be careful of my son His grief
Swell'd up so high, he could not utter more.
Jub. Alas! thy story melts away my soul;
That best of fathers! how shall I discharge
The gratitude and duty which I owe him
Syph. By laying up his counsels in your heart.
jub. His counsels bade me yield to thy directions:
Then, Syphax, chide me in severest terms,
Vent all thy passion, and I’ll stand its shock,
Calm and unruffled as a summer sea,
When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface.
Syph. Alas! my prince, I’d guide thee to your
Jub. I do believe thou wouldst; but tell me how
Syph. Fly from the fate that follows Caesar's foes.
Jub. My father scorn'd to do it.
Syph. And therefore dy’d.
Jub. Better to die ten thousand thousand deaths,
Than wound my honour.
Syph. Rather say your love.
jub. Syphax, I’ve promis'd to preserve my temper.
Why wilt thou urge me to confess a flame
I long have stifled, and would fain conceal
Syph. Believe me, prince, though hard to conquer
'Tis easy to divert and break its force.
Absence might cure it, or a second mistress
Light up another flame and put out this.
The glowing dames of Zama’s royal court
Have faces flush'd with more exalted charms;
The sun that rolls his chariot o'er their heads,
Works up more fire and colour in their cheeks;
Were you with these, my prince, you’d soon forget
The pale, unripen'd beauties of the North.
Jub. 'Tis not a set of features, or complexion,
The tinčture of a skin, that I admire :
Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
The virtuous Marcia tow’rs above her sex :
True, she is fair, (Oh, how divinely fair 1)
But still the lovely maid improves her charms
With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom,
And sančtity of manners; Cato's soul
Shines out in every thing she acts or speaks,
While winning mildness and attractive smiles,
Dwell in her looks, and with becoming grace
Soften the rigour of her father's virtue.
Syph. How does your tongue grow wanton in her
But on my knees I beg you would consider—
Jub. Hah! Syphax, is't not she —She moves this
And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter.
My heart beats thick—I pr’ythee, Syphax, leave me.
Syph. Ten thousand curses fasten on them both I
Now will the woman, with a single glance,
Undo what I’ve been lab’ring all this while.
Enter MARCIA and Lucia. Jub. Hail, charming maid! How does thy beauty
The face of war, and make ev’n horror smile !
At sight of thee my heart shakes off its sorrows;
I feel a dawn of Joy break in upon me,
And for a while forget th' approach of Caesar.
Mar. I should be griev’d, young prince, to think
my presence -
Unbent your thoughts, and slacken'd 'em to arms,
While, warm with slaughter, our vićtorious foe
Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field.
Jub. Oh, Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns
And gentle wishes follow me to battle!
The thought will give new vigour to my arm,
Add strength and weight to my descending sword,
And drive it in a tempest on the foe.
Mar. 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.
Jub. That Juba may deserve thy pious cares,
I'll gaze for ever on thy god-like father,
Transplanting one by one, into my life,
His bright perfections, ’till I shine like him.
Mar. My father never, at a time like this,
Would lay out his great soul in words, and waste
Such precious moments.
Jub. Thy reproofs are just,
Thou virtuous maid; I’ll hasten to my troops,
And fire their languid souls with Cato's virtue. .
If e'er I 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.
Oh, lovely maid! then will I think on thee; And in the shock of charging hosts, remember What glorious deeds should grace the man who hopes For Marcia's love. [Exit Juba. Luc. Marcia, you're too severe; How cou’d you chide the young good-natur'd prince, And drive him from you with so stern an air, A prince that loves and doats on you to death Mar. 'Tis therefore, Lucia, that Ichid him from me. His air, his voice, his looks, and honest soul, Speak all so movingly in his behalf, I dare not trust myself to hear him talk. Luc. Why will you fight against so sweet a passion, And steel your heart to such a world of charms Mar. How, Lucial wouldst thou have me sink away In pleasing dreams, and lose myself in love, When ev'ry moment Cato's life's at stake Caesar comes arm'd with terror and revenge, And aims his thunder at my father's head. Should not the sad occasion swallow up My other cares, “and draw them all into it " Luc. Why have not I 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. Mar. Lucia, disburthen all thy cares on me, And let me share thy most retir’d distress. Tell me who raises up this conflict in thee