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To-morrow should we thus express our friend-
--Sempronius, all is ready,
I've founded my Numidians, man by man,
And find them ripe for a revole : they all
Complain aloud of Cato's discipline,
And wait but the command to change their master,
Ev'n whilst we speak, our conqueror comes on,
And gathers ground upon us every moment.
Alas! thou know'st not Cæsar's adive soul,
With what a dreadful course he rushes on
From war to war: in vain has aature form'd
Mountains and oceans to oppose his passage; Of armies flush'd with conquest : O my Portius,
He bounds o'er all, victorious in his narch;
The Alps and Pyreoeans link before him;
Through winds, and waves, and storms, he works
Impatient for the battle : one day more
But tell me, halt thou yet drawn o'er young
That still would recommend thee more to Cabr,
And challenge better terms.-
-Alas! he's Inst,
Of Cato's virtues- But I'll try once more
(For every instant I expect him here)
If yet I can subdue those stubborn principles
Of faith, of honour, and I know not what,
That have corrupted his Nunridian temper,
And truck th: infection into all his soul.
Be sure to press upon him every motive,
Juba's surrender, since his father's death,
Would give up Afric into Cæsar's hands,
And make him lord of half the burning Zone.
But is it true, Sempronius, that your senate
Qur frauds, unless they're cover'd thick with art.
My thoughts in paflion ('tis the surest way);
I'll bellow out for Rome and for my country,
And mouth at Cæsar till I shake the senate.
Your cold hypocrisy's a stale device,
A worn out çrick : wouldd thou be thought in
carnest, And eager on it; but he must be spurr'd,
Clọthe thy feign'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury!
In troth, thou'rt able to instruct grey-hairs,
And teach the wily African deceit!
Mean-while I'll hatten to my Roman soldiers,
Inflame the mutiny, and underhand
Blow up their discontents, till they break out
Unlook'd for, and discharge themselves on Cato,
my Portius !
& A A T .
335 Remember, Syphax, we must work in hastc :
Syphax. O think what anxious moments pass between
Patience, kind heavens ! ~Excuse ao old mza's The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods.
warmth. Oh! 'tis a dreadful interval of time,
What are chese wondrous civilizing arts, Fillid
with horror all, and big with deach! This Roman polish, and this smooth behaviour, Distruction hangs on every word we speak, That reader man thus tractable and tame? On every thought, till the concluding stroke Are they not only to disguise our passions, Determines all, and closes our delign. (Exit. To see our looks at variance with our thoughts, Syphax.
To check tbe starts and fallies of the soul, I'll try if yet I can reduce to reason
And break off all its commerce with the tongue ; This head-ftrong youth, and make him spurn at In short, to change us into other creatures Cato.
Than what our nature and the gods design'd us? The time is short, Cæfar comes rushing on us—
Fuba. But hold! young Juba sees nie, and approaches. To strike thee dumb : turn up thine eyes to
There may'st thou see to what a godlike height SCENE IV.
The Roman virtues lift up niortal man.
While good, and just, and anxious for his frieads, uba, Syp bax.
He's still severely bent against himíulf;
Renouncing fleep, and rest, and food, and ease, Syphax, I joy to meet thee thus alone.
He strives with thirst and hunger, toil and heat; I have observ'd of late thy looks are fallen,
And when his fortune fets before hin all O’ercast with gloony cares, and discontent; The pomps and pleasures that his soul can with, Then tell me, syphax, I conjure thee, tell nie, His rigid virtue will accept of nouie. What are the thoughts that koit thy brow in
Believe me, Prince, there's not an African And turn thine eye thus coldly on thy prince? That traverses our vast Numidian deserts Syphus.
In quest of prey, and lives upon his bow, 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts, But better practises these boasted vistues. Nor carry smiles and fun-fhinc in my face,
Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chase, When discontent fits heavy at my heart.
Amidit the running stream he flakes his chirst, I have not yet to much the Roman in me.
Toils all the day, and at the approach of night Fuba.
On the first friendly bank he throws him down, Why dost thou cast out such ungenerous terms Or rests his head upon a rock till morn: Against the lords and sovereigns of the world? Then riles freth, pursues his wonted game, Dost thou not see niankind fall down before them, and if the following day he chance to find And own the force of their fupcrior virtue? A new repast, or an untafted fpring, Is there a nation in the wilds vf Afric,
Bleffes his stars, and thinks it luxury. Amidst our oarren rocks and burnirig lande,
Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern
What virtues grow from ignorance and choice, Gods! where's the worth that sets this people i Nor how the hero differs fron the brute. up
But grant that others could with equal glory Above your own Numidia's tawny fons ?
Look down on pleasures and the baits of fense, Do they with tougher sinews bend the bow? Wbere shall we find the man that bears aflidion, Or flies the javelin swifter to its mark,
Great and majestic in his griefs, like Catc? Launch'd from the vigour of a Roman arm? Heavens, with what strength, what leadiness of Who like our active African instructs
mind, The fiery steed, and trains him to his hand ? He triumphs in the midlt of all his fufferings ! Or guides in troops th' enbartled elephant, How does he rise againsi a load of woes,
(him! Loaden with war? These, these are arts, my And thank che gods that chrow the weight upon Prince,
Sypbu.. In which your Zama docs not stoop to Rome. 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul: Fubiz.
I chink the Romans call it Stoicism. There all are virtues of a meaner rank,
Had not your royal father thought so highly Perfections that are plac'd in bones and nerves. Of Roman virtue, and of Cato's cause, A Ronan soul is bent on higher views :
He had not fall'n by a slave's hand inglorious : To civilize the rude unpolish'd world,
Nor would his fiaugheer'd arny now have lain And lay it under the restraint of laws;
On Afric's fauds, disfigur'd with their wounds, To make man mild and sociable to man;
To gorge the wolves and vultures of Numidia. To cultivate che wild licentious favage
Yuda. With wisdom, discipline, and liberal arts;
Why do'st thou call my forrows up afresh? Th' embellissiments of life : virtucs like these My father's name brings tears into my eyes. Make human nature shine, reform the soul,
Sypbar. And break our Serce barbarians into pien.
Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills !
The glowing dames of Zama's royal court
Have faces flusht with more exalted, charms.
The sun, that rolls his chariot o'er their heads, Abandon Cato. Works up more fire and colour in their cheeks : Juba.
Were you with thefe, my Prince, you'd food for Syphax, I should be more than twice an orphan
The pale unripen'd beauties of the north.
. Beauty finn grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
The virtuous Marcia towers above her sex :
Bur itill the lovely niaid improves her charms
Shines out in every thing she acts or speaks,
Dwell in her looks, and with becoming grace
But on my knees I beg you would considera
Enter Marcia and Lucia,
. Swellid up so high, he could not utter more.
Hah! Syphax, is't not the --She moves this Juba.
And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter.
Ten thousand curses fasten on them both!
Now will this womaa with a single glance
Juba, Marcia, Luçia.
Hail charming maid, how does thy beauty smooth
At fight of thee ny heart shakes off its sorrows;
And for a while forget th' approach of Cæfar.
I should be griev'd, young prince, to think my
Unhent your thoughts, and flacken'd them to arms,
Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field.
O Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns
And gentle wishes follow me to battle :
Add strength and weight to ny descending sword,
My prayers and wishes always shall attend
The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue,
That Juba may deserve thy pious cares,
I'll gaze for ever on thy godlike father,
63 Transplanting, one by one, into my life
In Marcia's wishes, and divide their lister :
But tell me which of them is Lucia's choice?
Murcia, they both are high in my esteem, Would lay out his great soul in words, and waste But in my love-Why wilt thou make me came
him? Such precious moments. Juba.
Thou know'st, it is a blind and foolish passion,
I must hereafter call my happy brother?
And breathes the softest, the fincerelt vows! or Marcia's love.
[Exit. Complacency, and truth, and manly sweetness,
Dwell ever on his tongue, and smooth his thoughts
I hear him with a secret kind of dread,
Alas, poor youth! how can'ft thou throw him 'Tis therefore, Lucia, that I chide him from me.
from thee? His air, his voice, his looks, and honest soul, Lucia, thou know' t not half the love he bears thec; Speak all so movingly in his behalf,
Whene'er he speaks of thec, his heart's in flames,
He lends out all his soul in every word, (ported.
And thinks, and talks, and looks like one trans-
I dread the consequence-
You seem to plead
Heaven forbid !
Had Portius been the unsuccessful lover,
Was ever virgin love distreft like mine! Who have so many griefs to try its force ?
Portius himself oft falls in tears before me, Sure, nature form'd me of her softest mould, As if he mourn'd his rival's ill success, Enfeehled all niy soul with tender passions,
Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,
, And sunk me ev'n below my own weak sex :
Nor shew which way it turns. So much he fears
The fad effects that it would have on Marcus,
He knows too well how easily he's fir'd, And let me thare thy mo't retir'd distress; · And would not plunge his brother in despair, Tell me who raises up this conflict in chce. But waits for happier times, and kinder monientra Lucia.
Lucia, I need not blush to name them, when I tell Alas! too late I find myself in rolu'd thee
In endless griefs and labyrinths of woe, They're Marcia's brothers, and the fons of Cato. Boso to afflict iny Marcia's family, Marcia,
And fow diffenfion in the hcarcs of brothers,
But to the gods permii th' event of things.
Our lives, disculour'd with our present woes,
May fill grow bright, and imile with happier Marcia.
hours, For neither
So the pure linipid stream, when ful with stains And yet for both-The youths have equal fhure of rufhing torrents, and descending rains,
Works iteif clear, and, as it runs, refines;
Cato, Till, by degrees the floating mirror fines,
Let tot a torrent of impetucus zeal
True fortitude is seen in great exploits,
All else is towering phrensy and distraction.
Should we thus lead them to a field of slaughter,
Might not th' inipartial world with reason say,
To grace our fall, and make our ruin glorious ?
Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion. Rome still survives in this assembled senate!
Lucius. Let us remember we are Cato's friends,
My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd oti peace. And act like men who claim that glorious title. Already have our quarrels sill'd the world Lucius.
With widows and with orphans: Scythia mourns Cato will soon be here, and open to us
Our guilty wars, aod earth's remotest regions Th' occasion of our meeting. Hark! he comes ! Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Ronie:
[A found of trumpet's. 'Tis time to sheath the sword, and spare mankind. May all the guardiau gods of Rome direct him! It is not Cæsar, but the gods, my fathers,
The gods declare against us, and repel
Our vain attempts. To urge the foe to battle,
(Prompted by blind revenge and wild despair) Fathers, we once again are met in council.
Were to refuse th' awards of providence, Cæsar's approach has sunimon'd us together, And not to rest in heaven's determination. And Rome attends her fate from our resolves :
Already have we shewn nur love to Rome : How shall we treat this bold aspiring man ?
Now let us shew submission to the gode. Success till follows him, and backs his crimes : We took up arms, 1104 to revenge ourselves, Pharsalia gave
him Rome; Egypt has since But free the commonwealth ; when this end fails, Receiv'd his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cæfar's. Arms have no further use; our country's cause, Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,
That drew our swords, now wrests them from our And Scipio's death ? Numidia's burning fands
hands, Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should de
And bids us not delight in Roman blood,
Unprofitably shed; what men could do What course to take. Our foe advances on us,
Is done already : heaven and earth will witness, And envies us evin Libca's sultry deserts.
If Rome inust fall, that we are innocent. Fathers, pronounce your thoughts; are they still fixt
Sempronius. To hold it out, and fight it to the last ?
This smooth discourse and mild behaviour oft, Or are your hearts subdued at length, and wrought | Conceal a traitor-Something whispers me By time and ill success to a submission?
All is not right--Cato, beware of Lucius. Sempronius, fpcak.
Afide to Cato,
Let us appear not rash nor diffident :
Inmoderate valour swells into a fault, Which of the two to choose, lavery or death And fear, admitted into public councils, No, let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
Betrays like trcafon. Let us fluun them both, And, at the head of our remaining troops,
Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs Attack the foe, break through the thick array Are grown thus desperate. We have bulwarks Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon
Within our walls are troops inur'd to toil Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest, In Afric's heats, and season'd to the fun; May reach his heart, and free the world froni bon- Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us, dage.
Ready to rise at its young prince's call. Rise, fathers, rise; 'tis Rome demands your help; Whilst there is hope, do not distrust the gods; Rise, and revenge her Naughter'd citizens, But wait at least till Cæsar's near approach Or share their fate : the corps of half her senate Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we
To fuc for chains, and own a conqueror. Sit here, deliberating in cold debates,
Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time? If we should sacrifice our lives to honour,
No, let us draw her term of freedom out
In its full length, and spin it to the last.