Dec. Rome and her senators submit to Cæsar; Her gen'rals and her consuls are no more,

Who check'd his conquests, and deny'd his triumphs. Why will not Cato be this Cæsar's friend?

Cato. These very reasons thou has urg'd forbid it.
Dec. Cato, I have orders to expostulate,

And reason with you, as from friend to friend:
Think on the storm that gathers o'er your head,
And threatens ev'ry hour to burst upon it;
Still may you stand high in your country's honours,
Do but comply, and make your peace with Cæsar,
Rome will rejoice, and cast its eyes on Cato,
As on the second of mankind.

Cato. No more:

I must not think of life on such conditions.

Dec. Cæsar is well acquainted with your virtues,
And therefore sets this value on your life.
Let him but know the price of Cato's friendship,
And name your terms.

Cato. Bid him disband his legions,

Restore the commonwealth to liberty,
Submit his actions to the public censure,

And stand the judgment of a Roman senate.
Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend.

Dec. Cato, the world talks loudly of your wisdom--
Cato. Nay, more, tho' Cato's voice was ne'er em

ploy'd

To clear the guilty, and to varnish crimes,

Myself will mount the rostrum in his favour,
And strive to gain his pardon from the people.

Dec. A style like this becomes a conqueror.
Cato. Decius, a style like this becomes a Roman.
Dec. What is a Roman, that is Cæsar's foe?

Cato. Greater than Cæsar: he's a friend to virtue.
Dec. Consider, Cato, you're in Utica,

And at the head of your own little senate;
You don't now thunder in the capitol,

With all the mouths of Rome to second you.

Cato. Let him consider that who drives us hither. 'Tis Cæsar's sword has made Rome's senate little, And thinn'd its ranks. Alas! thy dazzled eye Beholds this man in a false glaring light;

Which conquest and success have thrown upon him;
Did'st thou but view him right, thou'dst see him black
With murder, treason, sacrilege, and crimes,
That strike my soul with horror but to name 'em.
I know thou look'st on me, as on a wretch
Beset with ills, and cover'd with misfortunes;
But, by the gods I swear, millions of worlds
Shou'd never buy me to be like that Cæsar.

Dec. Does Cato send this answer back to Cæsar,
For all his gen'rous cares and proffer'd friendship?
Cato. His cares for me are insolent and vain :
Presumptuous man! the gods take care of Cato.
Wou'd Cæsar shew the greatness of his soul,
Bid him employ his care for these my friends,
And make good use of his ill-gotten pow'r,
By shelt'ring men much better than himself.

Dec. Your high unconquer'd heart makes you forget You are a man.. You rush on your destruction.

Act 11.

Wortall ad Vir del.

MKEMBLE as CATO.
Presumptuous Man! the gods take care.

of Cato.

Audinet sculp!

But I have done.

When I relate hereafter

The tale of this unhappy embassy

All Rome will be in tears.

Sem. Cato, we thank thee.

The mighty genius of immortal Rome,

[Exit Decius.

Speaks in thy voice; thy soul breathes liberty.
Cæsar will shrink to hear the words thou utter'st,
And shudder in the midst of all his conquests.
Luc. The senate owns its gratitude to Cato,
Who with so great a soul consults its safety,
And guards our lives while he neglects his own.

Sem. Sempronius gives no thanks on this account.
Lucius seems fond of life; but what is life?
'Tis not to stalk about, and draw fresh air
From time to time, or gaze upon the sun;
'Tis to be free. When liberty is gone,
Life grows insipid, and has lost its relish.
Oh, could my dying hand but lodge a sword
In Cæsar's bosom, and revenge my country!
By heav'ns I could enjoy the pangs of death,
And smile in agony.

Luc. Others, perhaps,

May serve their country with as warm a zeal,
Though 'tis not kindled into so much rage.
Sem. This sober conduct is a mighty virtue
In lukewarm patriots.

Cato. Come; no more, Sempronius,

All here are friends to Rome, and to each other.
Let us not weaken still the weaker side

By our divisions.

1