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Cato. Come; no more, Sempronius : Did they know Cato, our remotest kings All here are friends to Rome, and to each other. Would pour embattled multitudes about him; Let us not weaken still the weaker side

Their swarthy hosts would darken all our plains, By our divisions.

Doubling the native horrors of the war, Sem. Cato, my resentinents

And making death more grim.
Are sacrificed to Rome, I stand reproved.

Cato. And canst thou think
Cato. Fathers, 'tis time you come to a resolve. Cato will fly before the sword of Cæsar!

Luc. Cato, we all go into your opinion. Reduced, like Hannibal, to seek relief
Cæsar's behaviour has convinced the senate, From court to court, and wander up and down
We ought to hold it out till terms arrive. A vagabond in Afric?
Sem. We ought to hold it out till death; but,

Juba. Cato, perhaps
Cato,

I'm too officious; but my forward cares
My private voice is drowned amidst the senate's. Would fain preserve a life of so much value.
Cato. Then let us rise, my friends, and strive My heart is wounded, when I see such virtue
to fill

Afflicted by the weight of such misfortunes. This little interval, this pause of life,

Cato. Thy nobleness of sout obliges me. (While yet our liberty and fates are doubtful) But know, young prince, that valour soars above With resolution, friendship, Roman bravery, What the world calls misfortune and affliction. And all the virtues we can crowd into it, These are not ills; else would they never fall That Heaven may say it ought to be prolonged. On Heaven's first favourites and the best of meri. Fathers, farewell - The young Numidian prince The gods, in bounty, work up storms about us, Comes forward, and expects to know our coun- That give mankind occasion to exert sels. (Eseunt Senators. Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice

Virtues that shun the day, and lie concealed Enter JUBA.

In the smooth seasons and the calms of life. Juba, the Roman senate has resolved,

Juba. I'm charmed whene'er thou talk'st; I 'Tilt time give better prospects, still to keep

pant for virtue, The sword unsheathed, and turn its edge on And all my soul endeavours at perfection. Cæsar.

Cato. Dost thou love watchings, abstinence Jubd. The resolution fits a Roman senate.

and toil, But, Cato, lend me for a while thy patience, Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato; And condescend to hear a young man speak.

Success and fortune must thou learn from Cæsar. My father, when, some days before his death, Juba. The best good fortune that can fall on He ordered me to march for Utica,

Juba, (Alas! I thought not then his death so near!) The whole success at which my heart aspires, Wept o'er me, pressed me in his aged arms, Depends on Cato. And, as his griefs gave way, 'My son,' said he, Cato. What does Juba say? • Whatever fortune shall befal thy father, Thy words confound me. • Be Cato's friend; he'll train thec up to great Juba. I would fain retract them; • And virtuous deeds; do but observe him well, Give them me back again, they aimed at nothing. • Thou’lt shun misfortunes, orthou'lt learn to bear Cato. Tell me thy wish, young prince, make them.'

not my ear Coto. Jubá, thy father was a worthy prince, A stranger to thy thoughts. And merited, alas! a better fate;

Juba. Oh! they're extravagant;

Still let me hide them.
But Heaven thought otherwise.
Juba. My father's fate,

Cato. What can Juba ask,

That Cato will refuse!
In spite of all the fortitude that shines
Before my face in Cato's great example,

Juba. I fear to name it.
Subdues my soul, and fills my eyes with tears. Marcia-inherits all her father's virtues.

Cato. It is an honest sorrow, and becomes thee. Cuto. What wouldst thou say?
Juba. My father drew respect from foreign Juba. Cato, thou hast a daughter.
climes:

Cato. Adieu, young prince ; I would not hear The kings of Afric sought him for their friend;

a word Kings far remote, that rule, as fame reports, Should lessen thee in my estcem. Remember, Behind the hidden sources of the Nile,

The hand of fate is over us, and Heaven In (tistant worlds, on th' other side the sun; Exacts severity from all our thoughts.

1 Oft have their black ambassadors appeared, It is not now a time to talk of aught Loaden with gifts, and filled the court of Zama. But chains, or conquest ; liberty, or death. Cato. I am no stranger to thy father's greatness.

[Erit Juba. I would not boast the greatness of my

Enter SYPHAX. father, But point out more alliances to Cato.

Syph. How's this, my prince! whát, covered Had we not better leave this Utica,

with confusion ? To arm Numidia in our cause, and court You look as if yon stern philosopher The assistance of my father's powerful friends?

Had just now chid you.

ney flowed

Juba. Syphax, I'm undone !

Syph. Indeed, my prince, you want to know the Syph. I know it well.

world. Juba. Cato thinks meanly of me.

You have not read mankind; your youth adinimui Syph. And so will all mankind.

The throes and swellings of a Roman soul, Juba. I've opened to him

Cato's bold fights, the extravagance of virtue. The weakness of my soul, my love for Marcia. Juba. If knowledge of the world make mea Syph. Cato's a proper person to entrust

perfidious, A love-tale with !

May Juba ever live in ignorance ! Juba. Oh, I could pierce my heart,

Syph. Go, go; you're young.
My foolish heart. Was ever wretch like Juba ! Juba. Gods, must I tamely bear
Syph. Alas, my prince, how are you changed This arrogance unanswer'd! Thou'rt a traitor,
of late !

A false old traitor.
I have known young Juba rise before the sun, Syph. I have gone too far.

(Aside. To beat the thicket where the tiger slept,

Juba. Cato shall know the baseness of thy soal. Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts:

Syph. I must appease this storm, or perish in it How did the colour mount into your cheeks,

(Aside. When first you roused him to the chace! I've Young prince, behold these locks, that are growa seen you,

white Even in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down, Beneath a helmet in your father's battles. Then charge him close, provoke him to the rage Juba. Those locks shall ne'er protect thy inOf fangs and claws, and, stooping from your

solence. horse,

Syph. Must one rash word, the infirmity of age, Rivet the panting savage to the ground.

Throw down the merit of my better years? Juba. Prithee, no more.

This the reward of a whole life of service! Syph. How would the old king smile

Curse on the boy ! how steadily he hears me! To see you weigh the paws, when tipped with

Asise gold,

Juba. Is it because the throne of my forefaAnd throw the shaggy spoils about your shoul- thers ders!

Still stands unfilled, and that Numidia's crown Juba. Syphax, this old man's talk, (though ho- Hangs doubtful yet whose head it shall inclose,

Thou thus presum'st to treat thy prince with In every word) would now lose all its sweetness.

scorn? Cato's displeased, and Marcia lost for ever. Syph. Why will you rive my heart with such Syph. Young prince, I yet could give you good expressions advice;

Does not old Syphax follow you to war? Marcia might still be yours.

What are his aims? Why does he load with darts Juba. What say'st thou, Syphax ?

His trembling hand, and crush beneath a casque By Heavens, thou turn'st me all into attention, His wrinkled brows? What is it he aspires to ? Syph. Marcia might still be yours.

Is it not this, to shed the slow remains, Juba. As how, dear Syphax?

His last

poor ebb of blood in your defence ? Syph. Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops, Juba. Syphax, no more! I would not bear you Mounted on steeds unused to the restraint

talk. Of curbs or bits, and feeter than the winds. Syph. Not hear me talk ! what, when my faith Give but the word, we'll snatch this damsel up,

to Juba, And bear her off.

My royal master's son, is called in question? Juba. Can such dishonest thoughts

My prince may strike me dead, and I'll be dumb; Rise up in man! Wouldst thou seduce my youth But whilst I live I must not hold my tongue, To do an act that would destroy mine honour ? And languish out old age in his displeasure. Syph. Gods, I could tear my hair to hear you Juba. Thou know'st the way too well into my talk!

heart; Honour's a fine imaginary notion,

I do believe thee loyal to thy prince. That draws in raw and inexperienced men Syph. What greater instance can I give? I've To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.

offered Juba. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a To do an action which my soul abhors, ruffian?

And gain you whom you love, at any price. Syph. The boasted ancestors of those greatmen, Juba. Was this thy motive? I have been tov Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruffians; hasty This dread of nations, this almighty Rome, Syph. And 'tis for this my prince has called me That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds

traitor! All under Heaven, was founded on a rape; Juba. Sure thou mistak'st; I did not call thee so. Your Scipios, Cæsars, Pompeys, and your Catos, Syph. You did, indeed, my prince, you called (The gods on earth) are all the spurious blood

me traitor; Of violated maids, of ravished Sabines.

Nay, further, threatened you'd complain to Cato. Juba. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine of what, my prince, would you complain to Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles.

Cato?

That Syphax loved you, and would sacrifice Lucius declared for peace, and terms were offered
His life, nay, more, his honour, in your service? To Cato, by a messenger from Cæsar,
Juba. Syphax, I know thou lov’st me; but in- Should they submit ere our designs are ripe,
deed

We both must perish in the common wreck,
Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far.

Lost in the general undistinguished ruin. Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings,

Syph. But how stands Cato? The ne ble mind's distinguishing perfection;

Sem. Thou hast seen mount Atlas : That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets Whilst storms and tempests thunder on its browsy her,

And oceans break their billows at its feet, And imitates her actions where she is not: It stands unmoved, and glories in its height: It ought not to be sported with.

Such is that haughty man; his towering soul, Syph. By Heavens,

'Midst all the shocks and injuries of fortune, I'm ravished when you talk thus, though you Rises superior, and looks down on Cæsar. chide me!

Syph. But what's this messenger ? Alas! I've hitherto been used to think

Sem. I've practised with him, A blind officious zeal to serve my king,

And found a means to let the victor know The ruling principle, that ought to burn

That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends And quench all others in a subject's heart. But let me now examine in my turn: Happy the people who preserve their honour Is Juba fixed ? By the same duties that oblige their prince! Syph. Yes--but it is to Cato. Juba. Syphax, thou now beginn'st to speak I've tried the force of every reason on him; thyself.

Soothed and caressed; been angry, soothed again; Numidia's grown a scorn among the nations, Laid safety, life, and interest in his sight. For breach of public vows.

Our Punic faith But all are vain; he scorns them all for Cato. Is infamous, and branded to a proverb.

Sem. Come, 'tis no matter ; we shall do with Syphax, we'll join our cares, to purge away

out him. Our country's crimes, and clear her reputation. He'll make a pretty figure in a triumph, Syph. Believe me, prince, you make old Syo And serve to trip before the victor's chariot. phax weep,

Syphax, I now may hope thou hast forsook To hear you talk-but 'tis with tears of joy. Thy Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine? If e'er your father's crown adorn your brows, Syph. May she be thine as fast as thou wouldst Numidia will be blest by Cato's lectures.

have her. Juba. Syphax, thy hand; we'll mutually forget Sem. Syphax, I love that woman; though I The warmth of youth, and frowardness of age; Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy per- Her and myself, yet, spite of me, I love her.

Syph. Make Čato sure, and give up Utica, If e'er the sceptre come into my hand,

Cæsar will ne'er refuse thee such a trifle. Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom. But are thy troops prepared for a revolt ? Syph. Why will you overwhelm my age with Does the sedition catch from man to man, kindness?

And run among the ranks ? My joy grows burdensome, I shan't support it. Sem. All, all is ready: Juba. Syphax, farewell. I'll hence, and try to The factious leaders are our friends, that spread find

Murmurs and discontents among the soldiers ; Some blest occasion that may set me right They count their toilsome marches, long fatigues, In Cato's thoughts. I'd rather have that man Unusual fastings, and will bear no more Approve my deeds, than worlds for my admirers. This medley of philosophy and war.

(Erit. Within an hour they'll storm the senate-house. Sypk Young men soon give, and soon forget Syph. Meanwhile I'll draw up my Numidian affronts;

troops Old age

is slow in both-A false old traitor! Within the square, to exercise their arms, These words, rash boy, may chance to cost thee and, as I see occasion, favour thee. dear.

I laugh to see how your unshaken Cato My heart had still some foolish fondness for thee: Will look aghast, while unforeseen destruction But hence, 'tis gone! I give it to the winds : Pours in upon him thus from every side. Cæsar, I'm wholly thine.

So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend,

Sudden, the impetuous hurricanes descend,
Enter SEMPRONIUS.

Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play, All hail, Sempronius!

Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away. ✓ Well , Cato's senate is resolved to wait

The helpless traveller, with wild surprise, The fury of a siege before it yields.

Sees the dry desart all around him rise, Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge of And, smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies. fate:

(Ereunt, 7

curse

son,

ACT III.

tius;

SCENE I.

Por. Marcus, thou can'st not ask what I'd roo

fuse. Enter Marcus and PORTIUS.

But here, believe me, I've a thousand reasonsMarc. Thanks to my stars I have not ranged Marc. I know thou'lt say my passion's out of about

season, The wilds of life, ere I could find a friend; That Cato's great example and misfortunes Nature first pointed out my Portius to me, Should both conspire to drive it from my thoughts. And early taught me, by her secret force, But what's all this to one that loves like me? To love thy person, ere I knew thy merit, O Portius, Portius, from my soul I wish Till what was instinct, grew up into friendship. Thou did'st but know thyself what 'tis to love, Por, Marcus, the friendships of the world are Then wouldst thou pity and assist thy brother. oft

Por. What should I do! If I disclose my pase Confederacies in vice, or leagues of pleasure ;

sion, Ours has severest virtue for its basis,

Our friendship's at an end; if I conceal it, "And such a friendship ends not but with life. The world will call me false to a friend and broMarc. Portius, thou know'st my soul in all its

ther.

(4 side. weakness;

Murc. But see where Lucia, at her woated Then, prithee, spare me on its tender side.

hour, Indulge me but in love, my other passions Amid the cool of yon high marble arch, Shall rise and fall by virtue's nicest rules. Enjoys the noon-day breeze! Observe her, Par Por. When love's well-timed, 'tis not a fault to love.

That face, that shape, those eyes, that heaven of The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise, beauty! Sink in the soft captivity together.

Observe her well, and blame me if thou canst. I would not urge thee to dismiss thy passion, Por. She sees us, and advances(i know 'twere vain) but to suppress its force,

Marc. I'll withdraw, Til better times may make it look more graceful. And leave you for a while. Remember, Portins, Marc. Alas! thou talk'st like one who never Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue. felt

(Erit. The impatient throbs and longings of a soul,

Enter LUCIA.
That pants and reaches after distant good.
A lover does not live by vulgar time:

Luc. Did I not see your brother Marcus here?
Believe me, Portius, in my Lucia's absence Why did he fly the place, and shun my presence?
Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden; Por. Oh, Lucia, language is too faint to shew
And yet, when I behold the charming maid, His rage of love; it preys upon his life;
I'm ten times more undone ; while hope and fear, He pincs, he sickens, he despairs, he dies:
And grief, and rage, and love, rise up at once, His passions and his virtues lie confused,
And with variety of pain distract me.

And mixed together in so wild a tumult, Por. What can thy Portius do to give thee That the whole man is quite disfigured in him.

Heavens, would one think 'twere possible for love Marc. Portius, thou oft enjoy’st the fair-one's To make such ravage in a noble soul! presence;

Oh, Lucia, I'm distressed; my heart bleeds for Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her

him : With all the strength and heat of eloquence, Even now, while thus I stand blest in thy preFraternal love and friendship can inspire

.

sence, Tell her thy brother languishes to death, A secret damp of grief comes o'er my thoughts, And fades away, and withers in his bloom ; And I'm unhappy, though thou smil'st upon me. That he forgets his sleep, and loaths his food; Luc. How wilt thou guard thy honour, in the That youth, and health, and war are joyless to shock

Of love and friendship? Think betimes, my Por Describe his anxious days, and restless nights,

tius, And all the torments that thou seest me suffer. Think how the nuptial tie, that might ensure

Por. Marcus, I beg thee give me not an office Our mutual bliss, would raise to such a height That suits with me so ill. Thou know'st my | Thy brother's grief, as might perbaps destroy temper.

him. Marc. Wilt thou behold me sinking in my Por. Alas, poor youth! What dost thou think,

woes, And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm, His generous, open, undesigning heart To raise me from amidst this plunge of sorrows ? Has begged his rival to solicit for him ;

help?

him;

my Lucia?

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my heart,

Then do not strike him dead with a denial ; Por. Name not the word! my frighted thoughts But hold him up in life, and cheer his soul

run back, With the faint glimmering of a doubtful hope ; And startle into madness at the sound. Perhaps when we have passed these gloomy hours, Luc. What wouldst thou have me do Consi. And weathered out the storm that beats upon der well

The train of ills our love would draw behind it. Luc. No, Portius, no; I see thy sister's tears, Think, Portius, think thou seest thy dying brother Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death, Stabbed at his heart, and all besmeared with blood, In the pursuit of our ill-fated loves :

Storming at Heaven and thee! Thy awful sire And, Portius, here I swear, to Heaven I swear, Sternly demands the cause, the accursed cause, To Heaven and all the powers that judge man- That robs him of his son : poor Marcia trembles, kind,

Then tears her hair, and, frantic in her griefs, Never to mix my plighted hands with thine, Calls out on Lucia. What could Lucia answer, While such a cloud of mischief hangs upon us ! Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow? But to forget our loves, and drive thee out

Por. To my confusion, and eternal grief, From all my thoughts as far as I am able. I must approve the sentence that destroys me. Por. What hast thou said ! I'm thunderstruck The mist, that hung upon my mind, clears up; -recall

And now, athwart the terrors that thy vow Those hasty words, or I am lost for ever. Has planted round thee, thou appear'st more fair,

Luc. Has not the vow already passed my lips? More amiable, and risest in thy charms. The gods have heard it, and 'tis sealed in Heaven. Loveliest of women! Heaven is in thy soul; May all the vengeance, that was ever poured Beauty and virtue shine for ever round thee, On perjur'd heads, o'erwhelm me, if I break it! Brightening each other: thou art all divine.

Por. Fixed in astonishment, I gaze upon thee, Luc. Portius, no more; thy words shoot through Like one just blasted by a stroke from Heaven, Who pants for breath, and stiffens, yet alive, Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love. In dreadful looks; a monument of wrath ! Why are those tears of fondness in thy eyes?

Luc. At length I've acted my severest part ; Why heaves thy heart? Why swells thy soul I feel the woman breaking in upon me,

with sorrow? And melt about my heart; my tears will flow. It softens me too much-farewell, my Portius; But, oh, I'll think no more! the hand of fate Farewell, though death is in the word-for ever! Has torn thee from me, and I must forget thee. Por. Stay, Lucia, stay! What dost thou say? Por. Hard-hearted, cruel maid !

For ever : Luc. Oh, stop those sounds,

Luc. Have I not sworn ? If, Portius, thy sucThose killing sounds! Why dost thou frown up

Must throw thy brother on his fate, farewell My blood runs cold, my heart forgets to heave, Oh, how shall I repeat the word! for ever. And life itself goes out at thy displeasure.

Por. Thuş o'er the dying lamp the unsteady The gods forbid us to indulge our loves ;

flame But, oh! I cannot bear thy hate, and live. Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits, Por. Talk not of love, thou never knew'st its And falls again, as loth to quit its hold. force.

Thou must not go, my soul still hovers o'er thee, I've been deluded, led into a dream

And can't get loose. Of fancied bliss. Oh Lucia, cruel maid !

Luc. If the firm Portius shake - Thy dreadful vow, loaden with death, still sounds To hear of partiny, think what Lucia suffers !

In my stunned ears. What shall I say or do? Por. 'Tis true, unruffled and serene, I've met

Quick let us part ! Perdition's in thy presence, The common accidents of life; but here Š And horror dwells about thee!-Ha! she faints ! Such an unlooked-for storm of‘ills falls on me,

Wretch that I am, what has my rashness done! It beats down all my strength. I cannot bear it. Lucia, thou injured innocence! thou best

We must not part. And loveliest of thy sex! awake, my Lucia, Luc. What dost thou say? Not part ! Or Portiuş rushes on his sword to join thee. Hast thou forgot the vow that I have made ? -Her imprecations reach not to the tomb, Are there not heavens, and gods, that thunder They shut not out society in death

o'er us? But ah! she moves, life wanders up and down -But see, thy brother Marcus bends this way; Through all her face, and lights up every charm. I sicken at the sight. Once more, farewell, Luc. Oh, Portius, was this well--to frown on | Farewell! and know thou wrong'st me, if thou her

think'st That lives upon thy smiles ? To call in doubt Ever was love, or eyer grief like mine. The faith of one expiring at thy feet,

(Erit LUCIA. That loves thee more than ever woman loved ? - What do I say? My half-recovered sense

Enter MARCUS. Forgets the vow in which my soul was bound. Marc. Portius, what hopes? How stands she? Destruction stands betwixt uş; we must part.

Am I doomed

cess

on me?

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