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Sem. Cato, my resentments Are sacrific'd to Rome—I stand reprov’d. Cato. Father's, ’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, and strive to fill This little interval, this pause of life (While yet our liberty and fates are doubtful) With resolution, friendship, Roman bravery, And all the virtues we can crowd into it; That Heav'n may say it ought to be prolong’d. Fathers, farewell—The young Numidian prince Comes forward, and expects to know our counsels. [Exeunt Senators.
Juba, the Roman senate has resolv’d,
jub. The resolution fits a Roman senate.
Whatever fortune shall befall thy father,
Cato. And canst thou think
Jub. Cato, perhaps
Cato. Thy nobleness of soul obliges me.
jub. I’m charm'd whene'er thou talk'st ; I pant for
And all my soul endeavours at perfection.
Cato. Dost thou love watchings, abstinence, and
Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato;
Jub. 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 *
Jub. I would fain retraćt them,
Cato. Tell me thy wish, young prince; make not
A stranger to thy thoughts.
jub. Oh! they're extravagant; Still let me hide them.
Cato. What can Juba ask That Cato will refuse
Jub. I fear to name it. Marcia—inherits all her father's virtues.
Cato. What wouldst thou say?
jub. Cato, thou hast a daughter.
Cato. Adieu, young prince; I would not hear a
Should lessen thee in my esteem. Remember
Enter SYPHAx. Syph. How’s this, my princel What, cover'd with confusion :
You look as if yon stern philosopher
jub. Syphax, I’m undone!
Syph. I know it well.
jub. Cato thinks meanly of me. Syph. And so will all mankind. jub. I’ve open'd to him The weakness of my soul, my love for Marcia. Syph. Cato's a proper person to intrust A love-tale with. jub. Oh, I could pierce my heart, My foolish heart. Was ever wretch like Juba t Syph. Alas, my prince, how are you chang'd of late f I’ve known young Juba rise before the sun, To beat the thicket where the tiger slept, Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts: How did the colour mount into your cheeks, When first you rous'd him to the chacel I've seen you, Ev’n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down Then charge him close, provoke him to the rage Of fangs and claws, and, stooping from your horse, Rivet the panting savage to the ground. Jub. Pr'ythee no more. Syph. How would the old king smile To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with gold, And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoulders! jub. Syphax, this old man's talk (though honey flow’d In ev'ry word) wou’d 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.