Jub. What say'st thou, Syphax?

By Heav'ns, thou turn'st me all into attention.
Syph. Marcia might still be yours.
Jub. As how, dear Syphax?

Syph. Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,
Mounted on steeds unus'd to the restraint

Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds.
Give but the word, we'll snatch this damsel up,
And bear her off.

Jub. Can such dishonest thoughts

Rise up in man? Wouldst thou seduce my youth
To do an act that would destroy mine honour?
Syph. Gods, I could tear my hair to hear you talk!
Honour's a fine imaginary notion,

That draws in raw and unexperienc'd men
To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.

Jub. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a ruffian?
Syph. The boasted ancestors of those great men,
Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruffians.
This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,
That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds
All under Heav'n, was founded on a rape;
Your Scipios, Cæsars, Pompeys, and your Catos
(The gods on earth), are all the spurious blood
Of violated maids, of ravish'd Sabines.

Jub. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles.

Syph. Indeed, my prince, you want to know the

world.

You have not read mankind; your youth admires

The throes and swellings of a Roman soul,

Cato's bold flights, th' extravagance of virtue.

Jub. If knowledge of the world makes men per-
fidious,

May Juba ever live in ignorance!
Syph. Go, go; you're young.

Jub. Gods, must I tamely bear

This arrogance unanswer'd! Thou'rt a traitor,
A false old traitor.

Syph. I have gone to far.

[Aside. Jub. Cato shall know the baseness of thy soul. Syph. I must appease this storm, or perish in it.

[Aside. Young prince, behold these locks, that are grown

white

Beneath a helmet in your father's battles.

Jub. Those locks shall ne'er protect thy insolence. Syph. Must one rash word, th' infirmity of age, Throw down the merit of my better years? This the reward of a whole life of service! -Curse on the boy! how steadily he hears me!

[Aside.

Jub. Is it because the throne of my forefathers Still stands unfill'd, and that Numidia's crown Hangs doubtful yet whose head it shall inclose, Thou thus presum❜st to treat thy prince with scorn? Syph. Why will you rive my heart with such expressions?

Does not old Syphax follow you to war?

What are his aims? Why does he load with darts

His trembling hand, and crush beneath a casque
His wrinkled brows? What is it he aspires to?
Is it not this? to shed the slow remains

His last poor ebb of blood in your defence?

Jub. Syphax, no more! I would not hear you talk. Syph. Not hear me talk! what, when my faith to Juba,

My royal master's son, is call'd in question

My prince may strike me dead, and I'll be dumb;
But whilst I live I must not hold my tongue,
And languish out old age in his displeasure,

Jub. Thou know'st the way too well into my heart, I do believe thee loyal to thy prince.

Syph. What greater instance can I give? I've offer'd To do an action which my soul abhors,

And gain you whom you love, at any price.

Jub. Was this thy motive? I have been too hasty. Syph. And 'tis for this my prince has call'd me

traitor.

Jub. Sure thou mistak'st; I did not call thee so. Syph. You did, indeed, my prince, you call'd me

traitor.

Nay, further, threaten'd you'd complain to Cato.
Of what, my prince, would you complain to Cato?
That Syphax loves you, and would sacrifice
His life, nay, more, his honour, in your service.

Jub. Syphax, I know thou lov'st me; but indeed
Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far.
Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings,
The noble mind's distinguishing perfection,

That aids and strengthens virtue where it meets her, And imitates her actions where she is not:

It ought not to be sported with.

Syph. By Heav'ns,

I'm ravish'd when you talk thus, though you chide me!
Alas! I've hitherto been us'd to think

A blind official zeal to serve my king,
The ruling principle, that ought to burn
And quench all others in a subject's heart. '
Happy the people who preserve their honour
By the same duties that oblige their prince.

Jub. Syphax, thou now beginn'st to speak thyself.
Numidia's grown a scorn among the nations,
For breach of public vows. Our Punic faith
Is infamous, and branded to a proverb.
Syphax, we'll join our cares, to purge away
Our country's crimes, and clear her reputation.
Syph. Believe me, prince, you make old Syphax

weep,

To hear you talk-but 'tis with tears of joy.

If e'er your father's crown adorn your brows,
Numidia will be blest by Cato's lectures.

Jub. Syphax, thy hand; we'll mutually forget The warmth of youth, and frowardness of age; Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy person. If e'er the scepter come into my hand,

Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom.

Syph. Why will you overwhelm my age with kind

ness?

My joys grow burdensome, I shan't support it.

Jub. Syphax, farewell. I'll hence, and try to find Some blest occasion that may set me right

In Cato's thoughts. I'd rather have that man
Approve my deeds, than worlds for my admirers. [Ex.
Syph. Young men soon give, and soon forget af-
fronts ;

Old age is slow in both-A false old traitor!—
These words, rash boy, may chance to cost thee dear.
My heart had still some foolish fondness for thee:
But hence, 'tis gone! I give it to the winds:
Cæsar, I'm wholly thine.

Enter SEMPRONIUS.

All hail, Sempronius!

Well, Cato's senate is resolv'd to wait

The fury of a siege before it yields.

Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge of fate : Lucius declar'd for peace, and terms were offer'd To Cato, by a messenger from Cæsar.

Shou'd they submit ere our designs are ripe,
We both must perish in the common wreck,
Lost in the gen❜ral undistinguish'd ruin.
Syph. But how stands Cato?

Sem. Thou hast seen mount Atlas:

Whilst storms and tempests thunder on its brows,
And oceans break their billows at its feet,
It stands unmov'd, and glories in its height:
Such is that haughty man; his tow'ring soul,
'Midst all the shocks and injuries of fortune,
Rises superior, and looks down on Cæsar.