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A ghastly paleness death's approach portends, Then trembling she the fatal pile ascends. Viewing the Trojan relics, she unsheath'd Æneas' sword, not for that use bequeath'd; Then on the guilty bed she gently lays Herself, and softly thus lamenting prays : "Dear relics! whilst that Gods and Fates give leave, "Free me from care, and my glad soul receive. "That date which Fortune gave I now must end, "And to the shades a noble ghost descend. "Sichæus' blood, by his false brother spilt, “I have reveng'd, and a proud city built. "Happy, alas! too happy, I had liv'd, "Had not the Trojan on my coast arriv'd. "But shall I die without revenge? yet die "Thus, thus with joy to thy Sichæus fly. “My conscious foe my fun'ral fire shall view "From sea, and may that omen him pursue!" Her fainting hand let fall the sword besmear'd 229 With blood, and then the mortal wound appear'd. Thro' all the court the fright and clamours rise, Which the whole city fills with fears and cries As loud as if her Carthage or old Tyre The foe had enter'd, and had set on fire. Amazed Anne with speed ascends the stairs, And in her arms her dying sister rears : "Did you for this yourself and me beguile? For such an end did I erect this pile?

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"Did you so much despise me, in this fate "Myself with you not to associate ? "Yourself and me, alas! this fatal wound "The senate and the people doth confound. "I'll wash her wound with tears, and at her death 66 My lips from her's shall draw her parting breath.” Then with her vest the wound she wipes and dries; Thrice with her arm the Queen attempts to rise, But her strengh failing, falls into a swoon, Life's last efforts yet striving with her wound: Thrice on her bed she turns, with wand'ring sight Seeking, she groans when she beholds the light. 250 Then Juno, pitying her disastrous fate, Sends Iris down her pangs to mitigate. (Since if we fall before th' appointed day Nature and Death continue long their fray.) Iris descends; "This fatal lock (says she) "To Pluto I bequeath, and set thee free;" Then clips her hair: cold numbness straight bereaves Her corpse of sense, and th' air her soul receives.

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SARPEDON's SPEECH TO GLAUCUS.

IN THE TWELFTH BOOK OF HOMER.

THUS to Glaucus spake

Divine Sarpedon, since he did not find
Others as great in place as great in mind.
Above the rest why is our pomp, our pow'r

Our flocks, our herds, and our possessions more? 5

Why all the tributes land and sea affords,'
Heap'd in great chargers, load our sumptuous boards?
Our cheerful guests carouse the sparkling tears
Of the rich grape, whilst music charms their ears.
Why as we pass, do those on Xanthus' shore
As gods behold us, and as gods adore ?
But that, as well in danger as degree,

JO

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We stand the first; that when our Licians see
Our brave examples, they admiring say,
Behold our gallant leaders! these are they
Deserve the greatness, and unenvy'd stand,
Since what they act transcends what they command.
Could the declining of this fate (oh, friend!)
Our date to immortality extend?

Or if death sought not them who seek not death 20
Would I advance? or should my vainer breath
With such a glorious folly thee inspire?
But since with Fortune Nature doth conspire,
Since age, disease, or some less noble end,
Tho' not less certain, doth our days attend;
Since 'tis decreed, and to this period lead
A thousand ways, the noblest path we'll tread,
And bravely on till they, or we, or all,
A common sacrifice to honour fall.

EPIGRAM. FROM MARTIAL.

PR'YTHEE die and set me free,

Or else be

Kind, and brisk, and gay, like me:

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I pretend not to the wise ones,

To the grave, to the grave,
Or the precise ones.

'Tis not cheeks, nor lips, nor eyes,

That I prize,

Quick conceits, or sharp replies;

If wise thou wilt appear and knowing,
Repartee, repartee

To what I'm doing.

Prythee why the room so dark?
Not a spark

Left to light me to the mark:
I love daylight and a candle,
And to see, and to see
As well as handle.

Why so many bolts and locks,

Coats and smocks,

And those drawers, with a pox ?

I could wish, could Nature make it,

Nakedness, nakedness

Itself were naked.

But if a mistress I must have

Wise and grave,

Let her so herself behave;

All the day long Susan civil,
Pap by night, pap by night,
Or such a devil.

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TO THE READER.

I CAN neither call this piece Tully's nor my own, being much altered from the original, not only by the change of the style, but by addition and subtraction. I believe you will be better pleased to receive it, as I did, at the first sight; for to me Cicero did not so much appear to write, as Cato to speak; and, to do right to my author, I believe no character of any per son was ever better drawn to the life than this. Therefore neither consider Cicero nor me, but Cato himself who being then raised from the dead to speak the language of that age and place, neither the distance of place or time makes it less possible to raise him now to speak ours.

Though I dare not compare my copy with the ori ginal, yet you will find it mentioned here how much fruits are improved by graffing; and here, by graffing verse upon prose, some of these severer arguments may receive a more mild and pleasant taste.

Cato says (in another place) of himself, that he learned to speak Greek between the seventieth and eightieth year of his age; beginning that so late, he may not yet be too old to learn English, being now but between his seventeenth and eighteenth hundred year. For these reasons I shall leave to this piece no other name than what the author gave it, of Cato Major.

L

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