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Has ravag'd more than half the globe, and sees Love is not to be reason'd down, or lost Mankind grown thin by his destructive sword: In high ambition and a thirst of greatness; Should he


further, numbers would be wanting 'Tis second life, that grows into the soul, To form new battles, and support bis crimes. Warms every vein, and beals in every pulse: Ye gods, what havoc does ambition make I feel it bere: my resolution meltsAmong your works!

Por. Bebold young Juba, the Numidian Marc. Thy steady temper, Portius,

prince, Can look on guilt

, rebellion, fraud, and Caesar, With how much care he forms himself to glory, In the calm lights of mild philosophy;

And breaks the fierceness of his native temper, I'm tortur'd, e'en to madness, wben I think To copy out our father's bright example. On the proud victor: ev'ry time he's nam'd He loves our sister Marcia, greatly loves her; Pharsalia rises to my view!-I see

His eyes, bis looks, his actions, all betray it; Th' insulting tyrant, prancing o'er the field, But still the smother'd fondness burns within Strew'd with "Rome's citizens, and drench'd

bim: in slaughter;

When most it swells, and labours for a vent, His horses hoofs wet with patrician blood! The sense of honour, and desire of fame, Oh, Portius! is not there some chosen curse, Drive the big passion back into his heart. Some bidden thunder in the stores of heav'n, What, shall an African, shall Juba's beir Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man Reproach great Cato's son, and show the world Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin? A virtue wanting in a Roman soul? Por. Believe me, Marcus, 'tis an impious Marc. Portius, no more! your words leave greatness,

stings behind them. And mix'd with too much horror to he envied: Whene'er did Juba, or did Portius, show How does the lustre of our father's actions, A virtue that has cast me at a distance, Through the dark cloud of ills that cover him, And thrown me out in the pursuits of bonour? Break out, and burn with more triumphani Por. Oh, Marcus! did I know the way to

brightness! His sufferings shine, and spread a glory round Thy troubled heart, and mitigate thy pains, him;

Marcus, believe me, I could die to do it. Greatly unfortunate, he fights the cause Marc. Thou best of brothers, and thou best Of honour, virtue, liberty, and Rome.

of friends! Marc. Who knows not this? But what can Pardon a weak, distemper’d soul, that swelis Calo do

With sudden gusts, and sinks as soon in calms, Against a world, a base, degen’rate world, The sport of passions. But Sempronius comes: That courts the yoke, and bows the neck to He must not find this softness hanging on me. Caesar?

[Exit. Pent up in Utica, he vainly forms

Enter SEMPRONIUS. A poor epitome of Roman greatness,

Sem. Conspiracies no sooner should be And, coverd with Numidian guards, directs

form'd A feeble army, and an empty senate,

Than executed. What means Portius here? Remnants of mighty battles fought in vain. I like not that cold youth. I must dissemble,

heav'n, such virtues, join'd with such success, And speak a language foreign to my heart. Distracts my very soul! our father's fortune

[Aside. Would almost templus to renounce his precepts. Good morrow, Portius; let us once embrace, Por. Remember what our father oft bas Once more embrace, while yet we both are free.


should we tbus express The ways of heav'n are dark and intricate;

friendship, Puzzled'in mazes, and perplex'd with errors, Each might receive a slave into his arms. Our understanding traces them in vain, This sun, perhaps, this morning sun's the last, Lost and bewilderd in the fruitless search; That e'er shall rise on Roman liberty. Nor sees with how much art the windings run, Por. My father has this morning call'd toNor where the regular confusion ends.

gether Marc. These are suggestions of a miod al To this poor ball, his little Roman senale

(The leavings of Pharsalia), to consult Oh, Porlius, didst thou taste but half the griefs If he can yet oppose the mighly torrent That wring my soul, thou couldst not talk That bears down Rome and all her gods before it, thus coldly.

Or must at length give up the world to Caesar. Passion unpitied, and successless love, Sem. Not all the pomp and majesty of Rome Plant daggers in my heart, and aggravate

Can raise her senate more than Cato's

presence. My other griefs.- (Vere but my Lucia kind- His virtues render our assembly awful, Por. Thou seest not that thy brother is thy They strike with something like religious fear, rival;

And make ev'n Caesar tremble at the head But I must hide it, for I know thy temper.

Of armies flush'd with conquest. Oh, my [Aside.

Portius! Now, Marcus, now thy virtue's on the proof, Could I but call that wondrous man my father, Put forth thy utmost strength, work ev'ry nerve, Would but thy sister Marcia be propitious And call up all thy father in thy soul: To thy friend's vows, I might be blesi indeed! To quell the tyrant love, and guard thy heart Por. Alas, Sempronius! wouldst thou talk On this weak side, where most our nature fails,

of love Would be a conquest worthy Cato's son. To Marcia, whilst her father's life's in danger?

Marc. Alas, the counsel which I cannot take, Thou might'st as well court the pale, tremInstead of healing, but upbraids my weakness.

bling vestal,



told us:



When she beholds the holy flame expiring. Syph. But is it true, Sempronius, that your Ser. The more I see the wonders of thy race,

senate The more I'm charm'd. Thou must take heed, Is call'd together? Gods! thou must be cautious; my Portius;

Cato has piercing eyes, and will discern The world has all its eyes on Cate's son; Our frauds, unless they're cover'd thick with art. Thy father's merit sets thee up to view, Sem. Let me alone, good Syphax, I'll conceal And shows thee in the fairest point of light, My thoughts 4 passion ('tis the surest way); To make thy virtues or thy faulis conspicuous. I'll bellow out for Rome, and for my country, Por. Well dost thou seem to check my And mouth at Caesar, till I shake the senate. ling’ring here

Your cold hypocrisy's a stale device, On this important hour-I'll straight away, A worn-out trick: wouldst thou be thought And while the fathers of the senate meet

in earnest, In close debate, to weigh th' events of war, Clothe thy feign'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury! Hill animate the soldiers' drooping courage Syph. In troth, thou’rt able to instruct grey With love of freedom, and contempt of life;

bairs, Ill thunder in their ears their country's cause, and teach the wily African deceit. And try to rouse up all that's Roman in them. Sem. Once more be sure to try thy skill 'Tis not in mortals to command success,

on Juba. But we'll do more, Sempronius; we'll deserve Meanwhile I'll hasten to my Roman soldiers, it.

[Exil. Inflame the mutiny, and, underhand, Sem. Curse on the stripling! how he apes Blow up their discoutenis, till they break out his sire!

Unlook'd for, and discharge themselves on Cato. Ambitiously sententious-But I wonder Remember, Syphax, we must work in haste; Old Syphax comes not, his Numidian genius Oh, think what anxious moments pass between Is well dispos'd to mischief, were he prompt The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods ! And eager on it; but he must be spurr’d, Oh, 'lis a dreadful interval of time, And ev'ry moment quicken'd to the course. Fillid up with horror all, and big with death! Cato bas us'd me ill; he has refus'd

Destruction hangs on ev'ry word we speak, His daughter Marcia lo my ardent vows. On every thought, till the concluding stroke Besides, his baffled arins and ruin'd cause, Determines all, and closes our design. [Exit. Are bars to my ambition. Caesar's favour, Syph. I'll try if yet I can reduce to reason That show'rs down greatness on his friends, This headstrong youth, and make him spurn will raise me

at Cato. To Rome's first honours.. If I give up Calo, The time is short; Caesar comes rushing on I daim, in my reward, his captive daughter. But Syphar comes

But hold! young Juba sees me, and approaches!

Enter JUBA.
Enter SyphAX.

Juba. Syphax, I joy to meet thee thus alone. Syph. Sempronius, all is ready;

I have observ'd of laie thy looks are fallin, l'se sounded my Numidians, man by man, O'ereast with gloomy cares and discontent; And find them ripe for a revolt: they all Then tell me, Syphax, I conjure thee, tell me, Complain aloud of Cato's discipline,

What are the thoughts that knit thy brow in And wait but the command to change their


And turn thine eye thus coldly on thy prince? Sem. Believe me, Syphax, there's no time

Syph. 'Tis not my talent to conceal my to waste:

thoughts, Ex'n wbile we speak, our conqueror comes on, Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face, And gathers ground upon us ev'ry moment. When discontent sits heavy at my heart; Alas! thou know'st noi Caesar's active soul,

I have not yet so much the Roman in me. With what a dreadful course he rushes on

Juba. Why dost thou cast out such unFrom war to war. In vain has nature fornid

gen'rous terms Mountains and oceans to oppose his passage; Against the lords and sov'reigns of the world ? He bounds o'er all;

Dost thou not see mankind fall down before One day more

them, Will set the victor thund'ring at our gales.

And own the force of their superior virtue ? But, tell me, hast tbou yet drawn o'er young Syph. Gods! Where's the worth that sels

Juba? That still would recommend thee more to Caesar, Above your own Numidia's lawny sons? And challenge belter terms.

Do they with tougher sinews bend the bow ? Syph. Alas! he's lost!

Or flies the jav'lin swifter to its mark, He's lost, Sempronius; all his thoughts are full Launch'd from the vigour of a Roman arm? of Cato's virtues-But I'll try once more

Who like our active African instructs (For ev'ry instant I expect him here), The fiery sleed, and trains him to his hand? if yet I can subdue those stubborn principles Or guides in troops th' embattled elephant or faith and honour, and I know not what, Laden with war ? 'These, these are arts, my That have corrupted bis Numidian temper,

prince, And struck th' infection into all his soul. In whicb your Zama does not stoop to Ronic.

Sem. Be sure to press upon him ev'ry motire. Juba. These all are virtues of a meaner rank: Juba's surrender, since his father's death, Perfections that are placid in bones and nerves. Would give up. Afric into Caesar's hands, A Roman soul is bent on higher views. And make him lord of balf the burning zone. To make man mild, and sociable to man;


these people up

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upon him!

To cultivate the wild, licentious savage, Juba. Alas! thy story melts away my soul! And break our fierce barbarians into men. That best of fathers! how shall I discharge Turn up thy eyes to Calo;

The gratitude and duty that I owe him? There may'st thou see to what a godlike height Syph. By laying up his counsels in your The Roman virtues lift up mortal man.

heart. While good, and just, and anxious for his friends, Juba. His counsels bade me yield to thy He's still severely bent against l'imself;

direction. And when his fortune sets before him all Syph. Alas! my prince, I'd guide you to The pomps and pleasures that his soul can wish,

your safety. His rigidirlle will accept of none,

Juba. I do believe thou wouldst; but tell Syph. Believe me, prince, there's not an

me how. African

Syph. Fly from the fate that follows CaeThat traverses our vast Numidian deserts

sar's foes. In quest of prey, and lives upon his bow, Juba. My father scorn'd to do it. But better practises those boasted virtues. Syph. And therefore died. Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chase; Juba. Better lo die ten thjusand thousand Amidst the rurzing stream he slakes his thirst;

deaths, Toils all the day, and at th' approach of night, Than wound my honour. On the first friendly bank he throws him down, Syph. Rather say your love. Or rests his head upon a rock till morn; Juba. Syphax, I've promis'd to preserve my Then rises fresh, pursues his wonted game;

temper. And if the following day he chance to find Why wilt thou urge' me to confess a flame A new repast, or an untasted spring, I long have stiiled, and would fain conceal? . Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.

Syph. Believe me, prince, though hard to Juba. Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern

conquer love, What virtues grow from ignorance and choice,'T'is easy to divert and break its force. Nor how the hero differs from the brute. Absence might cure it, or a second mistress Where shall we find the man that bears af- Light up another fiame, and put out this. fliction,

The glowing dames of Zama's royal court Great and majestic in bis griess, like Cato ? Have faces flush'd with more exalied charms; How does he rise against a load of woes, VVere

you with these, my prince, you'd soon And thank the gods that threw the weight


The pale, unripen'd beauties of the north. Syph. 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughti- Juba. 'Tis not a set of features, or complexion, ness of soul;

The tincture of a skin, that I admire: I think the Romans call it stoicism.

Beauty soon grows familiar to the lorer, Blad not your royal father thought so highly Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense. Of Roman virtue, and of Cato's cause, The virtuous Marcia tow'rs above her ses: lle had not fall'n by a slave's hand inglorious; True, she is fair, (oh, how divinely fair!) Nor would his slaughter'd armies now have lain But still the lovely maid improves her charms On Afric's sands, disfigurd with their wounds, With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom,

the wolves and vultures of Numidia. And sanctity of manners; Calo's soul Juba. Why dost thou call my sorrows up Shines out in ev'ry thing she acts or speaks, afresh?

While winning mildness and attractive smiles My fathe name brings tears into my eyes. Dwell in her looks, and with becoming grace, Syph. Oh, that you'd profit by your father's Soften the rigour of her father's virtue. ills!

Syph. How does your tongue grow wanton Jubu. What wouldst thou have me do?

in her praise! Syph. Abandon Calo.

But, on my knees, I beg you would considerJuba. Syphax, I should be more than twice Juba. Ila! Syphax, is'i not she?-She moves

an orphan, By such a loss.

And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter. Syph. Ay, there's the tie that binds you! My heart beals thick-I pr’ythee, Syphax, leave You long to call him father. Marcia's charms Work in your heart unseen, and plead for Cato. Syph. Ten thousand curses sasten on them No wonder you are deaf to all I say.

both! Juðu. Syphax, your zeal becomes impo:- Now will the woman, with a single glance, tunate;

Undo what I've been lab'ring all this while. I've bitherto permitted it to rare,

[Exit. And talk at large; but learn to keep it in,

Enter MARCIA and LUCIA. Lest it should take more freedom than I'll give it. Juba. Hail, charming maid! how does thy Syph. Sir, your great father never us'd

beauty smooth

The face of war, and make ev'n horror smile ! Alas, he's dead! but can you e'er forget At sight of thee my heart shakes off its sorrows; The tender sorrows,

I feel a dawn of joy break in upon me, And repeated blessings,

And for awhile forget th' approach of Caesar. Which you drew from him in your last fare- Marcia. I should be griev'd, young prince, well ?

to think my presence The good old king, at parting, wrung my hand Unbent your thoughts, and slacken'd them (His eyes brimful of tears), then, sighing, cry'd,

to arms, Prythee be careful of my son. His grief While, warm with slaughter, our victorious foe Swelld up so high, he could not utter more, I Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field.

To gorge

this way;


me thus.


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Juba. Oh, Marcia, let me hope thy kind As if he mourn'd his rival's ill success;

Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,
And gentle wishes follow me to battle! Nor show which way it turns. So much he fears
The thought will give new vigour to my arm, The sad effect that it will have on Marcus.
And strength and weight to my descending Was ever virgin love distress'd like mine.

Marcia. Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our
And drive it in a tempest on the foe.

Jarcia. My pray’rs and wishes always shall But to the gods submit th'event of things.

Our lives, discolour'd with our present woes,
The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue, May still grow bright, and smile with happier
And men approv'd of by the gods and Cato.

Juba. That Juba may deserve thy pious cares,
rü gaze for ever on thy godlike father,

So the pure, limpid stream, when foul with

Transplanting, one by one, into my life,
His bright perfections, till í shine like him.

of rushing torrents, and descending rains,

Works itself clear, and, as it runs, refines,
Marcia. My father never, at a time like this,
Would iay oui bis great soul in words, and waste Till

, by degrees, the floating mirror shines,

Reflecis each flow'r that on the border grows,
Such precious moments.

And a new 'heav'n in its fair bosom shows.
Juba. Thy reproofs are just,
Thou virtuous maid; I'll hasten to my troops,


And fire their languid souls with Cato's virtue.
Il e'er I lead them to the field, when all

Scene I.-The Senate-house.
The war shall stand rang’d in its just array, Flourish. SEMPRONIUS, Lucius, and Sena-
And dreadful pomp, then will I think on thee.

turs discovered.
Ob, losely maid! then will I think on thee; Sem. Rome still survives in this assembled
And in the shock of cbarging hosts, remember

What glorious deeds should grace the man, Let us remember we are Cato's friends,
who hopes

And act like men who claim that glorious
For Marcia's love.



Lucia. Marcia, you're too severe:

Luc. Hark! he comes.
How could you chide the young, good-natur'd

Trumpets. Enter Cato, Portius, and Marcus.
And drive him from you with so stern an air; Cato. Fathers, we once again are met in
A prince that loves, and dotes on you to death?

Marcia. How, Lucia! wouldst thou have me Caesar's approach bas summon'd us together,

And Rome attends her fate from our resolves.
In pleasing dreams, and lose myself in love, How shall we treat this bold, aspiring man?
Wben ei'rr moment Cato's life's at stake? Success still follows him, and backs his crimes;
Lucia. Why have I not this constancy of Pharsalia gave bim Rome, Egypt has since

Receiv'd bis yoke, and the whole Nile is Cae-
Who have so many griess to try its force?

Sure, nature form'd me of her softest mould, Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,
Enfeebled all my soul with tender passions, And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands
And sunk me er'n below my own weak sex: Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should
Pity and love, by turns, oppress my heart.

Marcia. Lucia, disburden all thy cares on me, What course to take. Our foe advances on us,
And lel me share thy most retir'd distress. And envies us ev'n Libya's sultry deserts.
Tell me, who raises up this conflict in thee? Fathers, pronounce your thoughts: are they
Lucia. I need not blush to name them,

still fix'd
when I tell thee

To bold it out, and fight it to the last?
They're Marcia's brothers, and the sons of Cato. Or are your hearts subdu'd at length, and
Marcia. But tell me whose address thou fa-

vour'st most ?

By time and ill success, to a submission ?
I long to know, and yet I dread to hear it. Sempronius, speak.
Lucia. Suppose 'twere Portius, could you Sem. My voice is still for war.
blame my choice? .

Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
Oh, Portius, thou hast stol'n away my soul! Which of the two to choose, slav'ry or death?
Marcus is over warm; bis fond complaints No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
Have so much earnestness and passion in them, And, at the head of our remaining troops,
I bear him with a secret kind of horror, Attack the foe, break through the thick array
And tremble at his vehemence of temper. Of his throng'd legions, and charge home

Marcia. Alas, poor youth!
How will thy coldness raise

Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest,
Tempests and storms in his afflicted bosom! May reach his heart, and free the world
I dread the consequence.

from bondage.
Lucia. You seem to plead

Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help ;
Against your brother Portius.

Rise and revenge her slaughter'd citizens,
Marcia. Lucia, no;

Or share their fate;
Had Portius been the unsuccessful lover, To battle!
The same compassion would have fall’n on him. Great Pompey's shade complains that we are
Lucia. Portius himself oft falls in tears be-

And Scipio's ghost walks unreveng'd amongst us.

sink away

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upon him.

fore me,

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Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal ]Disdains a life which he has power to offer. Transport thee ihus' beyond the bounds of Dec. Rome and her senators submit to Caesar; reason;

Her gen’rals and her consuls are no more, True fortitude is seen in great exploits, Who check'd bis conquests, and deny'd bis That justice warrants, and ihat wisdom guides;

triumphs. All else is tow'ring frenzy and distraction. Why will not Cato be this Caesar's friend? Lucius, we next would know what's your opin- Cato. These very reasons thou hast urg'd ion.

forbid it. Luc. My thoughts, I must confess, are Dec. Caesar is well acquainted with your

virtues, Already have we shown our love to Rome, And therefore sets this value on your life. Now let us show submission to the gods. Let him but know the price of Cato's friendship, We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves, And name your terms. But free the commonwealth; when this end fails, Cato. Bid him disband his legions, Arms have no further use. Our country's Restore the commonwealth to liberty, cause,

Submit his actions to the public censure, That drew our swords, now wrests them and stand the judgment of a Roman senate, from our hands,

Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend. And bids us not delight in Roman blood, Dec. Cato, the world talks loudly of your Unprofitably shed. What men could do,

wisdom Is done already: heav'n and earth will wit- Cato. Nay, more; though Cato's voice was ness,

ne'er employ'd If Rome must fall, that we are innocent. To clear the guilly, and to varnish crimes,

Cato. Let us appear nor rash nor diffident; Myself will mouni the rostrum in bis favour, Immod'rate valour swells into a fault; And strive to gain his pardon from the people. And fear, admitted into public councils, Dec. A style like this becomes a conqueror. Betrays like treason. Let us shun them both. Cato. Decius, a style like this becomes a Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs

Roman. Are growo thus desp'rate: we have bulwarks Dec. What is a Roman, that is Caesar's foc? round us;

Cato. Greater than Caesar: he's a friend to Within our walls are troops inur'd to toil

virtue, In Afric's heat, and season'd to the sun; Dec. Consider, Cato, you're in Ulica, Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us, And at the head of your own little senate : Ready to rise at its young prince's call. You don't now thunder in the capitol, While there is hope, do not distrust the gods; With all the mouths of Rome to second you. But wait at least till Caesar's near approach Cato. Let him consider that, who drives us Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late

hither. To sue for chains, and own a conqueror.

'Tis Caesar's sword has madeRome's senate little, Why should Rome fall a momeni ere her And thinn'd its ranks. Alas! thy dazzled eye time?

Bebolds this man in a false, glaring light, No, let us draw her term of freedom out Which conquest and success bave thrown In its full length, and spin it to the last, So shall we gain still one day's liberty: Didst thou but view him right, thou’dst see Ant let me perish, but, in Cato's judgment,

bim black A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty,

With murder, treason, sacrilege, and crimes, Is worth a whole eternity in bondage. That strike my soul with horror but to name Enter JuniUS.


I know thou look'st on me as on a wretch Jun. Fathers, e'cn now a herald is arriva

Beset with ills, and cover'd with misfortunes; From Caesar's camp, and with bim comes

But, by the gods I swear, millions of worlds The Roman knight: he carries in his looks

Should never buy me to be like that Caesar.

Dec. Does Cato send this answer back to Impatience, and demands to speak with Cato.

Caesar, Cato. By your permission, fathers-bid him For all his gen'rous cares and proffer'd friend

enter. [Exit Junius. Decius was once my friend, but other prospects


Cato. His cares for me are insolent and vain : Have loos'd those ties, and bound him fast to Caesar.

Presumptuous man! the gods take care of Cato.

Would Caesar show the greatness of his soul, His message may determine our resolves.

Bid him employ, his care for these my friends, Enter Decius.

And make good use of his ill-gotten pow'r, Dec. Caesar sends health to Calo

By shelt'ring men much better than himself. Calo. Could he send it

Dec. Your bigh, unconquer'd heart makes To Cato's slaughter'd friends, it would be wel

you forget come.

You are a man. You rush on your destruction. Are not your orders to address the senate ? But I have done. When I relate hereafter

Dec. My business is with Cato; Caesar sees The tale of this unhappy embassy,
The straits to which you're driv'n; and, as he All Rome will be in tears. [Exit, attended.

Sem. Cato, we thank thee.
Cato's high worth, is anxious for your life. The mighty genius of immortal Rome

Cato. My life is grafted on the fate of Rome. Speaks in thy voice; thy soul breathes liberty.
Would be save Cato, bid him spare bis country. Caesar will shrink to hear the words thou utter'st,
Tell your dictator this; and tell him, Cato And shudder in the midst of all his conquests.

upon him;

old Decius,


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