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Which I have felt, and are prepar'd for you. Imo. O, did you know what I have struggled. This was the duty that I had to pay.
through, "Tis done, and now I beg to be discharg'd. To save me yours, sure you would promise me Oro. What shall I do for thee?
Never to see me forced from you again. Abo. My body tires,
Oro. To promise thee! 0! do I need to promise! And will not bear me off to liberty :
But there is now no farther use of words. I shall again be taken, made a slave.
Death is security for all our fears. A sword, a dagger, yet would rescue me.
[Shows Aboan's body on the floor. I have not strength to go to find out death ;
Imo. Aboan! You must direct him to me.
Oro. Mangled and torn, resolv'd to give me time Oro. Here he is.
(Gives him a dagger. To fit myself for wbat I must expect, The only present I can make thee now:
Groan'd out a warning to me, and expir'd. And, next the honourable means of life,
Imo. For what you must expect?
Oro. Would that were all !
Oro. Just as thou seest. Arm'd with a sword, I met. I wrench'd it from Imo. By barb'rous hands, to fall at last their bim,
prey. Collecting all my strength; and in his heart, Oro. I have run the race with honour, shall I now Stain'd to the hilt, I left it.
Lag, and be overtaken at the goal ? O, my dear honour'd master, if there is
Imo. No. A being after this, I shall be yours
Oro. I must look back to thee, [Tenderly. In the next world : your faithful slave again. Imo. You shall not need, This is to try.
[Stabs himself. I'm always present to your purpose; say, I will not say farewell ;
Which way you would dispose me? For you must follow me.
[Dies. Oro. Have a care. Oro. In life and death,
Thou'rt on a precipice, and dost not see
And, as I ought, I dare not. Ob, Imoinda!
Nay, then, 'tis bad, indeed, if you can weep. A guilt, a crime sufficient to the fate
Óro. My heart runs over; if my gushing eyes of any one, but to belong to me?
Betray a weakness which they never knew, My friend has found it, and my wise will soon : Believe, thou, only thou, couldst cause these tears. My wife! the very fear's too much for life,
The gods themselves conspire with faithless mea I can't support it. Where !—Imoinda! Oh! To our destruction.
[Going out, she meets him, running into his arms. Imo. Hearen and earth our foes! " Thou bosom softness! down of all my cares ! If Heaven could be appeased, these cruel men Thou art disorder'd, pale, and out of breath!” Are not to be entreated or believed ; If fate pursues thee, find a shelter bere.
Oh, think on that, and be no more deceived. What is it thou wouldst tell me?
“ Oro. But we were born to suffer. Imo. 'Tis in vain to call bim villain.
“ Imo. Suffer, both ?-Oro. Call him governor; is it not so?
Both die, and so prevent them. Imo. There's not another, sure, so great.
“ Oro. By thy death!
Range the wild waste of desolate despair!
Thou art my only guide-my light of life,
And thou art leaving me. Send out thy beams Oro. Blush! to think wbat ?
Upon the wing; let them fly all around, Ima. That I was in bis power.
Discover every way; is there a dawn, Oro. He could not use it?
A glimmering of comfort? The great God, Imo. Wbat can't such men do?
That rises on the world must shine on us. Oro. But did he, durst he?
“ Imo. And see us set before him. Imo, What he could he dared.
“ Oro. Thou bespeak'st, Oro. His own gods damn him, then! for ours And goest before me. have none,
" įmo. So I would in love, No punishment for such unheard-of crime. In the dear, unsuspected part of life,
Imo. This monster, cunning in his flatteries, lo death, for love.' Alas! what hope's for me? When be bad wearied all his useless arts,
I was preserved but to acquit myself-
"*°Oro. Which is the way! Oro. I lear and tremble now.
Imo. The god of love is blind, and cannot find What could preserve thee?—What deliver thee?
it; Imo. That worthy man, you used to call your friend. But, quick, make haste! our enemies have eyes Oro. Blandford?
To find us out, and show us the worst way Imo. Came in, and saved me from his rage. Of parting: think on them!
Oro. He was a friend, indeed, to rescue thee! Oro. Why dost thou wake me ? And, for bis sake, I'll think it possible
• Imo. Oh, no more of love! A Christian may be yet an honest man.
For, if I listen to you, I shall quite
soall be so,
Forget my dangers, and desire to live.
Oro. I see them coming. I can't live yours.
l'hey shall not overlake us. This lastOro. “ There all the stings of death
And now, farewell !
“ Oro, I'll turn my face away, and do it so.". Imo. This dagger will instruct you. [Gives it him. Now, are you ready? Oro. Ha ! this dagger,
Imo. Now, “ But do not grudge me Like Fate, appoints me to the borrid deed. The pleasure, in my death, of a last look ;" Imo. Strike, strike it home, and bravely save us Pray, looks upon me!-Now I'm satisfied. both !
Uro. So ?ate must be, by this. There is no other safety.
[Going to stab her, he stops short-she lays her Oro. It must be !
hand on his, in order to give the blow. But, first, a dying kiss
Nay, then, I must assist you." This last embrace
Thus, thus 'tis finish'd, and I bless my fate, And now
(Stabs herself. Imo. I'm ready.
That, where I liv'd, I die, in these lor'd arms. Oro. Oh, where shall I strike ?
(Dies. Is there the smallest grain of that lov'd body, Oro. She's gone. And now all's at end with me. That is not dearer to me than mine eyes,
Soft, lay her down; ob, we will part no more ! My bosom'd heart, and all the life-blood there?
[Throws himself by her. Bid me cut off these limbs, hew off these bands, “ But let me pay tribute of my grief Dig out these eyes, though I would keep them last A few sad tears to thy loved memory, To gaze upon thee : but, to murder thee,
And then I follow
[Weeps over her. The joy and charm of ev'ry ravish'd sense,- But I stay too long."
(A noise again. My wife! Forbid it, Nature !
The noise comes nearer. Hold; before I go, Imo. 'Tis your wife
There's something would be done. Who, on her knees, conjures you. Oh, in time, And then, Imoinda, I'll come all to thee. [Rises. Prevent those mischiefs that are falling on us. You may be hurried to a shameful death,
Enter BLANDFORD and his Party, before the GoAnd I, too, dragged to the vile Governor; vernor and his Party; swords drawn on both sides. Then I may crv in vain. When you are gone, Where shall I find a friend again to save me? Gov. You strive in vain to save him ; he shall Oro. “ It will be so. Tbou unexampled virtue!
die. Thy resolution has recovered mine ;”
Bla. Not while we can defend him with our livese And now prepare thee.
Gov. Where is he? Imo. Thus, with open arms,
Oro. Here's the wretch whom you would I welcome you, and death.
“Put up your swords, and let not civil broils [He drops his dugger as he looks on her, and Engage you in the cursed cause of one throws himself on the ground.
Wbo cannot live, and now entreats to die. Oro. I cannot bear it!
This object will convince you. Ob, let me dash against the rock of fate,
Bla. 'Tis his wife! [They gather about the body. “ Dig up this earth- tear, tear ber bowels out, Alas! there was no other remedy. To make a grave, deep as the centre down,
Gov. Who did the bloody deed ? To swallow wide, and bury us together!
Oro. The deed was mine; It will not be. 0; then some pitging god Bloody I know it is, and I expect (If there be one a friend to innocence)
Your laws should tell me so. Thus, self-condemn'd: Find yet a way to lay her beauties down
I do resign myself into your hands, Gently in death, and save me from her blood, The hands of justice—but I hold the sword“ Imo. O, rise; ’uis more thau death to see you for you—and for myself. thus.
[Stabs the Governor and himself, then throws I'll ease your love, and do the deed myself.
himself by Imoinda's body, • She takes up the dagger-he rises in haste to Oro. 'Tis as it should be now; I have sent his take it from her.
ghost “ Oro. Oh, hold! I charge thee, hold ! To be a witness of that happiness “ Imo. Though, I must own,
In the next world which he denied us here. [Dies. It would be nobler for us both, from you."
“ Bla. I hope there is a place of happiness Oro. Ob, for a whirlwind's wing to hurry us In the next world for such exalied virtue. To yonder cliff, wbich frowns upon the flood; Pagan or unbeliever, yet he lived That, in embraces lock'd, we might plunge in, To all he knew ; and, if he went astray, And perish thus in one another's arms !
There's mercy still above to set him right,
[ Distant noise without. But Christians, guided by the heavenly raz. Ino, Alas! what is that I hear?
Have no excuse if they mistake their way.
C Α Τ Ω.
BY JOSEPH ADDISON.
Some bidden thunder in the stores of heaven,
Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man
Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin!
Por. Believe me, Marcus, 'tis an impious greatPORCIUS.
And mix'd with too much horror to be envied.
How does the lustre of our father's actions,
Through the dark cloud of ills that cover him,
Break out, and b:in with more triumphant brightSYPHAX.
His suff'rings shine, and spread a glory round bim:
Greatly unfortunate, he fights the cause
Of honour, virtue, liberty, and Rome.
Mar. Who knows not this? But what can Cato do
And, cover'd with Numidian guards, directs
A feeble army, and an empty senate,
By heavens, such virtues, join'd with sueh success,
Would almost tempt us to renounce his precepts. Enter Porcius and Marcus.
Por. Remember what our father oft has told us : Por. The dawn is overcast, the morning lowers, The ways of Heaven are dark and intricate : And heavily in clouds brings on the day,
Our understanding traces them in vain; The great, the important day, big with the fate Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search, Of Cato and of Rome. Our father's death Nor sees with low much art the windings run. Would fill up all the guilt of civil war,
Nor where the regular confusion ends. And close the scene of blood. Already Cæsar Mar. These are suggestions of a mind at ease : Has ravag'd more than half the globe, and sees O, Porcius, didst thou taste but half the griefs Mankind grown thin by his destructive sword: That wring my soul, thou could'st not talk thus Should he go further, numbers would be wanting
calmly. To form new battles, and support bis crimes. Passion unpitied, and successless love, Ye gods, what havoc does ambition make
Plant daggers in my heart, and aggravate Among your works!
My other griefs. Were but my Lucia kind Mar. 'I by steady temper, Porcius,
Por. Thou seest not that thy brother is thy rii Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Cæsar, But I must bide it; for I know thy temper. [1" In the calm lights of mild philosopby:
Now, Marcus, now thy virtue's on the proof: I'm tortur'd, even to madness, when I think Put forth thv utmost strengtb, work every merre On the proud victor: every time he's named, And call up all thy father in thy soul : Pharsalia rises to my view; I see
To quell the tyrant love, and guard thy heart. The insulting tyrant prancing o'er the field On this weak side, wbere most our nature fails, Strow'd with "Rome's citizens, and drench'd in Would be a conquest worthy Cato's son. slaughter.
Mar. Alas, the counsel which I cannot take: 0, Porcius, is there not some chosen curse, Instead of healing, but upbraids my weakness.
Love is not to be reason'd down, or lost
On this important hour.-I'll straight away, In high ambition, and a thirst of greatness;
To animate the soldier's drooping courage 'Tis second life, that grows into the soul,
With love of freedom, and contempt of life, Warms every vein, and beats in every pulse : And try to rouse up all tbat's Roman in 'em. I feel it here : my resolution melts
'Tis not in mortals to command success; Par. Behold young Juba, the Numidian Prince : But we'll do more, Sempronius, we'll deserve it. He loves our sister Marcia, greatly loves ber;
[Erit. But still the smother'd fondness burns within him: Sen. Curse on the stripling! How he apes bis The sense of honour and desire of fame
sire, Drive the big passion back into his heart. – Ambitiously sententious !– But I wonder, What! shall an African, shall Juba's heir, Old Syphax comes not. His Numidian genius Reproach great Cato's son, and show the world Is well dispos’d to mischiefA virtue wanting in a Roman soul ?
Cato bas us'd me ill: he has refus'd Mar. No more, no more! your words leare stings His daughter Marcia to my ardent vows: behind 'em.
Besides, his baffled arms and ruin'd cause Whene'er did Juba, or did Porcius, show
Are bars to my ambition. Cæsar's favour, A virtue that has cast me at a distance,
That showers down greatness on bis friends, will And thrown me out in the pursuits of honour?
raise me Por. O, Marcus, did I know the way to ease To Rome's first honours. If I give up Cato, Thy troubled heart, and mitigate thy pains, I claim in my reward his captive daughter,Believe me, I could freely die to do it.
[Erit.- Portius retires back. And wait but the command to change their master. Enter SEMPRONIUS
Sem. Believe me, Syphax, there's no time to
waste; Sem. Conspiracies no sooner sbould be form'd Even whilst we speak our conqueror comes on, Than executed.-[Aside.] — What means Porcius And gathers ground upon us every moment. bere?
But tell me, bast thou yet drawn o'er young Juba ? I like not that cold youth. I must dissemble, 'That still would recommend thee more to Cæsar, And speak a language foreign to my heart.- And challenge better terms. Good morrow, Porcius! [Porcius comes forward.] Syph. Alas, be's lost, Let us once embrace,
He's lost, Sempronius ! all his thoughts are full Once more embrace, whilst yet we both are free : of Cato's virtues !—But I'll try once more, To-morrow, should we thus express our friendship, For every instant I expect him bere, Each might receive a slave into his arms
If yet I can subdue those stubborn principles This sun, perhaps, this morning's sun's the last Of faith, of bonour, and I know not wbat, That e'er shall rise on Roman liberty
That have corrupted his Numidian temper Por. My father has this morning call'd together and struck the infection into all his soul. His little Roman senate
Sem. Be sure to press upon him every motive: The leavings of Pharsalia-to consult
Juba's surrender, since his father's death, If yet he can oppose the mighty torrent
Would give up Africk into Cæsar's hands, That bears down Rome and all her gods before it And make him lord of half the burning zone. Or must, at length, give up the world to Cæsar. Syph. But is it true, Sempronius, that your
Sem. Not all the pomp and majesty of Rome Can raise her senate more than Čato's presence; Is call'd together? Gods! thou must be cautious : His virtues render ber assembly awful,
Cato has piercing eyes, and will discern They strike with something like religious fear, Our frauds, unless they're cover'd thick with art. And make even Cæsar tremble at the head
Sem. Let me alone, good Syphax: I'll conceal of armies flusb’d with conquest. 0, my Porcius, My thoughts in passion : 'tis the surest way: Could I but call that wondrous man my father, I'll bellow out for Rome and for my country, Would but thy sister Marcia be propitious And mouth at Cæsar, till I shake the sonate : To thy friend's vows, I miybt be ble s'd indeed. Your :old hypocrisy's a stale device, Por. Alas! Sempronius, would'st thou talk of A worn-out trick: would'st thou be thought in love
earnest, To Marcia, whilst ber father's life's in danger ? Clothe thy feigo'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury. Thou might'st as well court the pale trembling Syph. In troth, thou'rt able to instruct grey hairs, vestal,
And teach the wily African deceit.
Sem. The more I see the wonders of thy race, Meanwbile I'll hasten to my Roman soldiers,
Blow up their discontents, till they break out The world has all its eyes on Cato's son: Unlook'd for, and discharge themselves on Cato. Thy father's merit sets ther up to view,
Remember, Syphax, we must work in baste; And shows thee in the fairest point of light, O think, what anxious moments pass between To make thy virtues or thy faults conspicuous. The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods ; Pos. Well dost thou seem to check my lingering It is a dreadful interval of time, bere
Filled up with borror all, and big with death ;
Destruction hangs on every word we speak, Then rises fresh, pursues his wonted game,
Syph. I'll try if yet I can reduce to reason Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.
But, grant that others could, with equal glory,
Look down on pleasures and the baits of sense,
Where shall we find the man that bears affliction, Juba. Syphax, I joy to meet thee thus alone. Great and majestic in his griefs, like Cato? I have observ'd of late thy looks are fallen, How does he rise against a load of woes, O'ercast with gloomy cares and discontent: And thank the gods that throw the weight upon him! Then tell me, Syphax, I conjure thee tell me, Sypn. 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of What are the thoughts that knit thy brow in frowns,
Syph. 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, Had not your royal father thought so highly
He had not fallen, by a slave's hand, inglorious; I have not yet so much the Roman in me.
Nor would his slaughter'd army now have lain Juba. Why dost thou cast out such ungenerous On Africk's sands, disfigur'd with their wounds, terms
To gorge the wolves and vultures of Numidia. Against these wonderous sovereigns of the world ? Juba. Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh ? Dost thou not see mankind fall down before 'em, My father's name brings tears into my eyes. And own the force of their superior virtue ?
Syph. Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills! Syph. Gods! where's the worth that sets this Juba. What would'st thou have me do ? people up
Syph. Abandon Cato. Above your own Numidia's tawny sons ?
Juba. Never :-I should be more than twice an Do they with tougher sinews bend the bow ?
orphan Or flies the javelin swifter to its mark,
By such a loss.
You long to call him father; Marcia's charms
Juba. These all are virtues of a meaner rank, And talk at large : but learn to keep it in, Perfections that are plac'd in bones and nerves : Lest it should take more freedom than I'll give it. A Roman soul is bent on higher views
Syph. Yet hear me, prince, tho' hard to conquer To make man mild, and sociable to man;
love, To cultivate the wild licentious savage
'Tis easy to divert and break its force : With wisdom, discipline, and liberal arts- Absence might cure it, or a second mistress The embellishments of life; virtues like these Light up another flame, and put out this. Make human nature shine, reform the soul,
The glowing dames of Zama's royal court And break our fierce barbarians into men.
Have faces Aush'd with more exalted charms; Syph. Patience, kind heavens ! -Excuse an old The sun, that rolls his chariot o'er their heads, man's warmth;
Works up more fire and colour in their cheeks: What are these wonderous civilizing arts,
Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget This Roman polish, and his smooth behaviour, The pale, unripen'd beauties of the north. That render man thus tractable and tame ?
Juba, 'Tis not a set of features, nor complexion, Are they not only to disguise our passions,
The tincture of a skin, that I admire :
But still the lovely maid improves her charms There may'st thou see to what a godlike height With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom, Tie Roman virtues lift up mortal man:
And sanctity of manners. Cato's soul enouncing sleep, and rest, and food, and case, Shines out in every thing she acts or speaks, e strives with thirst and hunger, toil and heat; While winning mildness and attractive smiles nl, when his fortune sets before him all
Dwell in her looks, and with becoming grace e pomps and pleasures that our soul can wish, Soften the rigour of her father's virtues. rigid virtue will accept of none.
Syph. How does your tongue grow wanton in her Syph. Believe me, prince, there's not an African
praise! fiat traverses our vast Numidian deserts
But, on my knees, I beg you would consider quest of prey, and lives upon his bow,
Juba. Ha! is't not she ?-It is :-she moves this it better practises these boasted virtues ;
way: Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chase; And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter. Amidst the running stream he slakes his thirst, My heart beats thick. I pr’ythee, Syphax, leave me. Toils all the day, and, at the approach of night, Syph. Ten thousand curses fasten on them both! On the first friendly bank he throws him down, Now will this woman, with a single glance, Or rests his head upon a rock till morn;
Undo what I've been labouring all this whilo.