Sem. Cato, my resentments

Are sacrific'd to Rome I stand reprov'd.

Cato. Father's, 'tis time you come to a resolve.
Luc. Cato, we all go into your opinion,

Cæsar's behaviour has convinc'd the senate
We ought to hold it out till terms arrive.

Sem. We ought to hold it out till death; but, Cato,
My private voice is drown'd amidst the senate's.

Cato. Then let us rise, my friends, and strive to fill
This little interval, this pause of life

(While yet our liberty and fates are doubtful)
With resolution, friendship, Roman bravery,
And all the virtues we can crowd into it;
That Heav'n may say it ought to be prolong'd.
Fathers, farewell The young Numidian prince
Comes forward, and expects to know our counsels.

Enter JUBA.

[Exeunt Senators.

Juba, the Roman senate has resolv❜d,

Till time give better prospects, still to keep

The sword unsheath'd, and turn its edge on Cæsar.
Jub. The resolution fits a Roman senate.

But, Cato, lend me for a while thy patience,
And condescend to hear a young man speak.
My father, when, some days before his death,
He order'd me to march for Utica,

(Alas! I thought not then his death so near!)
Wept o'er me, press'd me in his aged arms,
And, as his griefs gave way, My son, said he,

1

Whatever fortune shall befall thy father,

Be Cato's friend; he'll train thee up to great

And virtuous deeds; do but observe him well,

Thou'lt shun misfortunes, or thou'lt learn to bear 'em.
Cato. Juba, thy father was a worthy prince,
And merited, alas! a better fate;
But Heav'n thought otherwise.
Jub. My father's fate,

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

Subdues my soul, and fills my eyes with tears.

Cato. It is an honest sorrow, and becomes thee. Jub. My father drew respect from foreign climes: The kings of Afric sought him for their friend; "Kings far remote, that rule, as fame reports, "Behind the hidden sources of the Nile, "In distant worlds, on t'other side the sun;" Oft have their black ambassadors appear'd, Loaden with gifts, and fill'd the courts of Zama. Cato. I am no stranger to thy father's greatness. Jub. I would not boast the greatness of my father, But point out new alliances to Cato.

Had we not better leave this Utica,

To arm Numidia in our cause, and court
The assistance of my father's powerful friends;
Did they know Cato, our remotest kings,
Would pour embattled multitudes about him;
Their swarthy hosts would darken all our plains,
Doubling the native horror of the war,

And making death more grim.

E

Cato. And canst thou think

Cato will fly before the sword of Cæsar!
Reduc'd, like Hannibal, to seek relief

From court to court, and wander up and down
A vagabond in Afric.,

Jub. Cato, perhaps

I'm too officious; but my forward cares
Wou'd fain preserve a life of so much value.
My heart is wounded, when I see such virtue
Afflicted by the weight of such misfortunes.

Cato. Thy nobleness of soul obliges me.
But know, young prince, that valour soars above
What the world calls misfortune and affliction.
These are not ills; else would they never fall
On Heav'n's first fav'rites and the best of men.
The gods, in bounty, work up storms about us,
That give mankind occasion to exert

Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice
Virtues that shun the day, and lie conceal'd

In the smooth seasons and the calms of life.

Jub. I'm charm'd whene'er thou talk'st; I pant for virtue ;

And all my soul endeavours at perfection.

Cato. Dost thou love watchings, abstinence, and

toil,

Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato;

Success and fortune must thou learn from Cæsar.

Jub. The best good fortune that can fall on Juba, The whole success at which my heart aspires

Depends on Cato.

Cato. What does Juba say?

The words confound me.

Jub. I would fain retract them,

Give 'em me back again: they aim'd at nothing. Cato. Tell me thy wish, young prince; make not my ear

A stranger to thy thoughts.

Jub. Oh! they're extravagant;

Still let me hide them.

Cato. What can Juba ask

That Cato will refuse?

Jub. I fear to name it.

Marcia-inherits all her father's virtues.
Cato. What wouldst thou say?

Jub. Cato, thou hast a daughter.

Cato. Adieu, young prince; I would not hear a

word

Should lessen thee in my esteem. Remember
The hand of Fate is over us, and Heav'n
Exacts severity from all our thoughts.
It is not now a time to talk of ought
But chains, or conquest; liberty, or death.

Enter SYPHAX.

[Exit.

Syph. How's this, my prince! What, cover'd with

confusion?

You look as if yon stern philosopher

Had just now chid you.

Jub. Syphax, I'm undone!

Syph. I know it well.

Jub. Cato thinks meanly of me.
Syph. And so will all mankind.
Jub. I've open'd to him

The weakness of my soul, my love for Marcia.
Syph. Cato's a proper person to intrust

A love-tale with.

Jub. Oh, I could pierce my heart,

My foolish heart. Was ever wretch like Juba!
Syph. Alas, my prince, how are you chang'd of late!
I've known young Juba rise before the sun,
To beat the thicket where the tiger slept,

Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts:
How did the colour mount into your cheeks,
When first you rous'd him to the chace! I've seen

you,

Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down,
Then charge him close, provoke him to the rage
Of fangs and claws, and, stooping from your horse,
Rivet the panting savage to the ground.

Jub. Pr'ythee no more.

Syph. How would the old king smile

To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with gold,
And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoulders!
Jub. Syphax, this old man's talk (though honey
flow'd

In ev'ry word) wou'd now lose all its sweetness.
Cato's displeas'd, and Marcia lost for ever.

Syph. Young prince, I yet could give you good advice,

Marcia might still be yours.