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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Cato, by Joseph Addison, et al
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Cato
+       A Tragedy, in Five Acts
+
+
+Author: Joseph Addison
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 10, 2010  [eBook #31592]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATO***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Canada Team (http://www.pgdpcanada.net)
+
+
+
+CATO;
+
+A Tragedy,
+IN FIVE ACTS,
+
+
+BY JOSEPH ADDISON, ESQ.
+
+
+AS PERFORMED AT THE
+THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN.
+
+
+PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS
+FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.
+
+WITH REMARKS
+BY MRS. INCHBALD.
+
+
+
+
+PARIS,
+PRINTED FOR BAUDRY,
+ENGLISH, ITALIAN, SPANISH, PORTUGUESE AND GERMAN
+LIBRARY, RUE DU COQ-SAINT-HONORÉ.
+
+1823.
+
+
+
+
+REMARKS.
+
+
+The author of this tragedy, to whose vigorous mind the English are
+indebted for their choicest moral works, came into the world with a
+frame so weak, that he was christened immediately on his birth, in
+consequence of the symptoms he gave of a speedy dissolution. The hand
+which reared him did a more than ordinary service to the age in which
+he lived, and to succeeding generations. Addison's pious writings,
+untainted by the rigour of superstition, have softened the harsh spirit
+of ancient religion, whilst they have confirmed all its principles.
+
+He was the son of the Reverend Launcelot Addison, Rector of Milston, in
+the county of Wilts, at which place he was born, on the 6th of May, 1672.
+
+After passing through some inferior schools, he was placed at the
+Charter-House; where he contracted that intimacy with Steele, which
+grew to a friendship honourable to them both, from its duration, and
+the instructions which their joint labour bestowed on mankind.
+
+At the age of fifteen, young Addison was entered at Queen's College,
+Oxford, where he applied himself so closely to study, that, in a few
+years, his Latin poetry gained him high reputation in both universities,
+and, at the age of twenty-two, he became known to the nation at large by
+his English compositions.
+
+He was now pressed by his father to take holy orders; which,
+notwithstanding his sedate turn of mind, and his habits of piety, he
+positively refused. Mr. Tickell has alleged, that it was Addison's
+extreme modesty, a constitutional timidity, which made him resolve
+against being in the church--but he became a statesman; and, surely,
+that is a character which requires as much courage as a clergyman's,
+when the church is not under persecution.
+
+The first dramatic work from the pen of Addison, was an opera called
+"Rosamond," which having but indifferent success, he next assisted
+Steele in his play of "The Tender Husband;" for which the author
+surprised him by a dedication, openly to avow the obligation.
+
+These two friends now united their efforts in that well-known periodical
+work, "The Spectator;" by which they reformed the manners, as well as
+the morals, of their readers, and established their own literary fame.
+But, as the talents of Addison were superior to those of Steele, so are
+the papers in this work which were written by him esteemed above the
+rest;--and, as a mark of distinction, he had the laudable, or his friend
+Steele the honest pride, to affix a letter at the end of every such
+paper, by which it should be known for his. The Muse Clio furnished the
+four letters which have been thus used in "The Spectator," as Addison's
+honourable stamp of authorship.
+
+In the periodical work of "The Guardian" he had likewise some share;
+and, in 1713, he produced, what Dr. Johnson has called "the noblest work
+of Addison's genius"--"Cato."
+
+Notwithstanding the merit of this play, it is certain that it was
+indebted to the political circumstances of the times, for that
+enthusiastic applause with which it was received by the town.
+
+The joy or sorrow which an author is certain to experience upon every
+new production, is far more powerful in the heart of a dramatist than
+in that of any other writer. The sound of clamorous plaudits raises
+his spirits to a kind of ecstacy; whilst hisses and groans, from a
+dissatisfied audience, strike on the ear like a personal insult, avowing
+loud and public contempt for that in which he has been labouring to show
+his skill.
+
+Addison, with his timid nature, felt all the excruciating tortures of
+an ambitious, yet a fearful dramatist. He could not stay at home on the
+first night of "Cato;" for to be told, at once, that his tragedy was
+driven from the stage with derision, had been to his tremulous nerves
+like the dart of death. Not less peril might have befallen him as an
+auditor--he therefore was neither present on the first performance,
+nor absent from the theatre;--but, placing himself on a bench in the
+green-room, his body motionless, his soul in tumult, he kept by his side
+a friend, whom he dispatched every minute towards the stage, to bring
+him news of what was passing there. He thus secured, he conceived,
+progressive information of his fate, without the risk of hearing it
+from an enraged multitude. But such was the vehemence of applause,
+that shouts of admiration forced their way through the walls of the
+green-room, before his messenger could return with the gladsome tidings.
+Yet, not till the last sentence was spoken, and the curtain fairly
+dropped upon Cato and his weeping friends, did the author venture to
+move from the inanimate position in which he was fixed. This acute dread
+of failure now heightened the joy of success, and never was success
+more complete.
+
+"Cato," says Pope, in a letter to one of his friends, written at the
+time, "was not so much the wonder of Rome in his days, as he is of
+Britain in ours."
+
+The most fortunate of all occurrences took place, from the skill with
+which Addison drew this illustrious Roman--he gave him so much virtue,
+that both Whigs and Tories declared him of their party; and instead of
+any one, on either side, opposing his sentences in the cause of freedom,
+all strove which should the most honour him.
+
+Both auditors and readers, since that noted period, much as they may
+praise this tragedy, complain that it wants the very first requisite of
+a dramatic work--power to affect the passions. This criticism shows,
+to the full extent, how men were impassioned, at that time, by their
+political sentiments. They brought their passions with them to the
+playhouse, fired on the subject of the play; and all the poet had to
+do was to extend the flame.
+
+It is a charge against this drama, that the love scenes are all insipid;
+but it should be considered, that neither Cato nor his family, with
+strict propriety, could love any thing but their country.--As this is
+a love which women feel in a much less degree than men, and as bondage,
+not liberty, is woman's wish, "Cato," with all his patriotism, must ever
+be a dull entertainment to the female sex; and men of course receive but
+little pleasure from elegant amusements, of which women do not partake.
+
+The language and sentiments contained here are worthy of the great
+Addison and the great Cato; and if, as it is objected, the characters
+are too elevated to be natural, yet they accord with that idea of nature
+which imagination conceives of such remarkable personages.
+
+The author of "Cato" had planned other tragedies and celebrated works,
+which the subsequent part of his days did not give him leisure to
+execute; for, on the death of Queen Anne, the Lords Justices made him
+their Secretary: he was soon after appointed principal Secretary of
+State. These, and other public employments, prevented his completing
+farther literary designs. Or, it may be thought, that the loss of his
+domestic tranquillity, at this time, by his marriage with the Countess
+Dowager of Warwick, might possibly impede every future attempt for the
+favour of the Muses, to whom this, his wife, had not the slightest
+affinity. It is supposed she embittered, by arrogance and discontent,
+the remainder of this good man's life, which terminated on the 17th of
+June, 1719, in the 47th year of his age. He died at Holland House, near
+Kensington, and left an only child, a daughter, by the Countess.
+
+Lady Warwick had also a son by her former husband, a very fine,
+spirited, and accomplished youth, for whose welfare the dying Addison
+showed peculiar concern; for, in the extremity of his disorder, having
+dismissed his physicians, and with them all hopes of recovery, he
+desired that the young Lord Warwick might be called to his bedside. He
+came--but life was now fast departing from his revered father-in-law,
+and he uttered not a word. After an afflicting pause, the young man
+said, "Dear sir, you sent for me; I believe, and I hope, that you
+have some commands; I shall hold them most sacred." Grasping his hand,
+Addison softly replied, "I sent for you, that you might see in what
+peace a Christian can die." He spoke with difficulty, and instantly
+expired.
+
+It is to this circumstance Mr. Tickell refers in his lines on Addison's
+death, where he has this passage:
+
+ "He taught us how to live; and, oh! too high
+  A price for knowledge, taught us how to die."
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONĘ.
+
+ _Cato_,          Mr. Cooke.
+ _Portius_,       Mr. Siddons.
+ _Marcus_,        Mr. H. Johnston.
+ _Sempronius_,    Mr. Cory.
+ _Juba_,          Mr. Brunton.
+ _Syphax_,        Mr. Murray.
+ _Lucius_,        Mr. Claremont.
+ _Decius_,        Mr. Williams.
+
+ _Lucia_,         Miss Marriott.
+ _Marcia_,        Mrs. Litchfield.
+
+ _Mutineers, Guards, etc._
+
+
+ _SCENE--The Governor's Palace in Utica._
+
+
+
+
+CATO.
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE FIRST.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Hall._
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS _and_ MARCUS.
+
+_Por._ The dawn is overcast, the morning low'rs,
+And heavily in clouds brings on the day,
+The great, the important day, big with the fate
+Of Cato and of Rome----Our father's death
+Would fill up all the guilt of civil war,
+And close the scene of blood. Already Cęsar
+Has ravaged more than half the globe, and sees
+Mankind grown thin by his destructive sword:
+Should he go farther, numbers would be wanting
+To form new battles, and support his crimes.
+Ye gods, what havoc does ambition make
+Among your works!
+
+_Marc._ Thy steady temper, Portius,
+Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Cęsar,
+In the calm lights of mild philosophy;
+I'm tortured e'en to madness, when I think
+On the proud victor--ev'ry time he's named,
+Pharsalia rises to my view!--I see
+Th' insulting tyrant, prancing o'er the field,
+Strew'd with Rome's citizens, and drench'd in slaughter;
+His horse's hoofs wet with patrician blood!
+Oh, Portius! is there not some chosen curse,
+Some hidden thunder in the stores of Heav'n,
+Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man
+Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin?
+
+_Por._ Believe me, Marcus, 'tis an impious greatness,
+And mix'd with too much horror to be envied:
+How does the lustre of our father's actions,
+Through the dark cloud of ills that cover him,
+Break out, and burn with more triumphant brightness!
+His sufferings shine, and spread a glory round him;
+Greatly unfortunate, he fights the cause
+Of honour, virtue, liberty, and Rome.
+His sword ne'er fell, but on the guilty head;
+Oppression, tyranny, and pow'r usurp'd,
+Draw all the vengeance of his arm upon them.
+
+_Marc._ Who knows not this? but what can Cato do
+Against a world, a base, degenerate world,
+That courts the yoke, and bows the neck to Cęsar?
+Pent up in Utica, he vainly forms
+A poor epitome of Roman greatness,
+And, cover'd with Numidian guards, directs
+A feeble army, and an empty senate,
+Remnants of mighty battles fought in vain.
+By Heav'n, such virtue, join'd with such success,
+Distracts my very soul! Our father's fortune
+Would almost tempt us to renounce his precepts.
+
+_Por._ Remember what our father oft has told us:
+The ways of Heav'n are dark and intricate,
+Puzzled in mazes, and perplex'd with errors;
+Our understanding traces them in vain,
+Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search;
+Nor sees with how much art the windings run,
+Nor where the regular confusion ends.
+
+_Marc._ These are suggestions of a mind at ease:--
+Oh, Portius! didst thou taste but half the griefs
+That wring my soul, thou couldst not talk thus coldly.
+Passion unpitied, and successless love,
+Plant daggers in my heart, and aggravate
+My other griefs.--Were but my Lucia kind----
+
+_Por._ Thou see'st not that thy brother is thy rival;
+But I must hide it, for I know thy temper.      [_Aside._
+Behold young Juba, the Numidian prince,
+With how much care he forms himself to glory,
+And breaks the fierceness of his native temper,
+To copy out our father's bright example.
+He loves our sister Marcia, greatly loves her;
+His eyes, his looks, his actions, all betray it;
+But still the smother'd fondness burns within him;
+When most it swells, and labours for a vent,
+The sense of honour, and desire of fame,
+Drive the big passion back into his heart.
+What! shall an African, shall Juba's heir,
+Reproach great Cato's son, and show the world
+A virtue wanting in a Roman soul?
+
+_Marc._ Portius, no more! your words leave stings behind them.
+Whene'er did Juba, or did Portius, show
+A virtue that has cast me at a distance,
+And thrown me out in the pursuits of honour?
+
+_Por._ Marcus, I know thy gen'rous temper well;
+Fling but the appearance of dishonour on it,
+It straight takes fire, and mounts into a blaze.
+
+_Marc._ A brother's suff'rings claim a brother's pity.
+
+_Por._ Heav'n knows, I pity thee----Behold my eyes,
+Ev'n whilst I speak--Do they not swim in tears?
+Were but my heart as naked to thy view,
+Marcus would see it bleed in his behalf.
+
+_Marc._ Why then dost treat me with rebukes, instead
+Of kind condoling cares, and friendly sorrow?
+
+_Por._ Oh, Marcus! did I know the way to ease
+Thy troubled heart, and mitigate thy pains,
+Marcus, believe me, I could die to do it.
+
+_Marc._ Thou best of brothers, and thou best of friends!
+Pardon a weak distemper'd soul, that swells
+With sudden gusts, and sinks as soon in calms,
+The sport of passions. But Sempronius comes:
+He must not find this softness hanging on me.      [_Exit_ MARCUS.
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS.
+
+_Sem._ Conspiracies no sooner should be form'd
+Than executed. What means Portius here?
+I like not that cold youth. I must dissemble,
+And speak a language foreign to my heart.      [_Aside._
+Good-morrow, Portius; let us once embrace,
+Once more embrace, while yet we both are free.
+To-morrow, should we thus express our friendship,
+Each might receive a slave into his arms;
+This sun, perhaps, this morning sun's the last
+That e'er shall rise on Roman liberty.
+
+_Por._ My father has this morning call'd together
+To this poor hall, his little Roman senate,
+(The leavings of Pharsalia) to consult
+If he can yet oppose the mighty torrent
+That bears down Rome and all her gods before it,
+Or must at length give up the world to Cęsar.
+
+_Sem._ Not all the pomp and majesty of Rome
+Can raise her senate more than Cato's presence.
+His virtues render our assembly awful,
+They strike with something like religious fear,
+And make even Cęsar tremble at the head
+Of armies flush'd with conquest. Oh, my Portius!
+Could I but call that wond'rous man my father,
+Would but thy sister Marcia be propitious
+To thy friend's vows, I might be blest indeed!
+
+_Por._ Alas, Sempronius! wouldst thou talk of love
+To Marcia, whilst her father's life's in danger?
+Thou might'st as well court the pale, trembling vestal,
+When she beholds the holy flame expiring.
+
+_Sem._ The more I see the wonders of thy race,
+The more I'm charm'd. Thou must take heed, my Portius;
+The world has all its eyes on Cato's son;
+Thy father's merit sets thee up to view,
+And shows thee in the fairest point of light,
+To make thy virtues or thy faults conspicuous.
+
+_Por._ Well dost thou seem to check my ling'ring here
+In this important hour--I'll straight away,
+And while the fathers of the senate meet
+In close debate, to weigh th' events of war,
+I'll animate the soldiers' drooping courage
+With love of freedom and contempt of life;
+I'll thunder in their ears their country's cause,
+And try to rouse up all that's Roman in them.
+'Tis not in mortals to command success,
+But we'll do more, Sempronius--we'll deserve it.      [_Exit._
+
+_Sem._ Curse on the stripling! how he apes his sire!
+Ambitiously sententious--But I wonder
+Old Syphax comes not; his Numidian genius
+Is well disposed to mischief, were he prompt
+And eager on it; but he must be spurr'd,
+And every moment quicken'd to the course.
+Cato has used me ill; he has refused
+His daughter Marcia to my ardent vows.
+Besides, his baffled arms, and ruin'd cause,
+Are bars to my ambition. Cęsar's favour,
+That show'rs down greatness on his friends, will raise me
+To Rome's first honours. If I give up Cato,
+I claim, in my reward, his captive daughter.
+But Syphax comes----
+
+_Enter_ SYPHAX.
+
+_Syph._ Sempronius, all is ready;
+I've sounded my Numidians, man by man,
+And find them ripe for a revolt: they all
+Complain aloud of Cato's discipline,
+And wait but the command to change their master.
+
+_Sem._ Believe me, Syphax, there's no time to waste;
+Ev'n while we speak, our conqueror comes on,
+And gathers ground upon us every moment.
+Alas! thou know'st not Cęsar's active soul,
+With what a dreadful course he rushes on
+From war to war. In vain has nature form'd
+Mountains and oceans t'oppose his passage;
+He bounds o'er all.
+One day more
+Will set the victor thund'ring at our gates.
+But, tell me, hast thou yet drawn o'er young Juba?
+That still would recommend thee more to Cęsar,
+And challenge better terms.
+
+_Syph._ Alas! he's lost!
+He's lost, Sempronius; all his thoughts are full
+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 and honour, and I know not what,
+That have corrupted his Numidian temper,
+And struck th' infection into all his soul.
+
+_Sem._ Be sure to press upon him every motive.
+Juba's surrender, since his father's death,
+Would give up Afric into Cęsar's hands,
+And make him lord of half the burning zone.
+
+_Syph._ But is it true, Sempronius, that your senate
+Is call'd together? Gods! thou must be cautious;
+Cato has piercing eyes, and will discern
+Our frauds, unless they're cover'd thick with art.
+
+_Sem._ Let me alone, good Syphax, I'll conceal
+My thoughts in passion ('tis the surest way);
+I'll bellow out for Rome, and for my country,
+And mouth at Cęsar, till I shake the senate.
+Your cold hypocrisy's a stale device,
+A worn-out trick: wouldst thou be thought in earnest,
+Clothe thy feign'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury!
+
+_Syph._ In troth, thou'rt able to instruct grey hairs,
+And teach the wily African deceit.
+
+_Sem._ Once more be sure to try thy skill on Juba.
+Remember, Syphax, we must work in haste;
+Oh, think what anxious moments pass between
+The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods!
+Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time,
+Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death!
+Destruction hangs on every word we speak,
+On every thought, till the concluding stroke
+Determines all, and closes our design.      [_Exit._
+
+_Syph._ I'll try if yet I can reduce to reason
+This headstrong youth, and make him spurn at Cato.
+The time is short; Cęsar comes rushing on us--
+But hold! young Juba sees me, and approaches!
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, I joy to meet thee thus alone.
+I have observed of late thy looks are fall'n,
+O'ercast with gloomy cares and discontent;
+Then tell me, Syphax, I conjure thee, tell me,
+What are the thoughts that knit thy brow in frowns,
+And turn thine eye thus coldly on thy prince?
+
+_Syph._ 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts,
+Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face,
+When discontent sits heavy at my heart;
+I have not yet so much the Roman in me.
+
+_Jub._ Why dost thou cast out such ungenerous terms
+Against the lords and sov'reigns of the world?
+Dost thou not see mankind fall down before them,
+And own the force of their superior virtue?
+Is there a nation in the wilds of Afric,
+Amidst our barren rocks and burning sands,
+That does not tremble at the Roman name?
+
+_Syph._ Gods! where's the worth that sets these people up
+Above your own Numidia's tawny sons?
+Do they with tougher sinews bend the bow?
+Or flies the javelin swifter to its mark,
+Launch'd from the vigour of a Roman arm?
+Who like our active African instructs
+The fiery steed, and trains him to his hand?
+Or guides in troops th' embattled elephant
+Laden with war? These, these are arts, my prince,
+In which your Zama does not stoop to Rome.
+
+_Jub._ These all are virtues of a meaner rank:
+Perfections that are placed in bones and nerves.
+A Roman soul is bent on higher views;
+Turn up thy eyes to Cato;
+There may'st thou see to what a godlike height
+The Roman virtues lift up mortal man.
+While good, and just, and anxious for his friends,
+He's still severely bent against himself;
+And when his fortune sets before him all
+The pomps and pleasures that his soul can wish,
+His rigid virtue will accept of none.
+
+_Syph._ Believe me, prince, there's not an African
+That traverses our vast Numidian deserts
+In quest of prey, and lives upon his bow,
+But better practises those boasted virtues.
+Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chase;
+Amidst the running stream he slakes his thirst;
+Toils all the day, and, at the approach of night,
+On the first friendly bank he throws him down,
+Or rests his head upon a rock till morn;
+Then rises fresh, pursues his wonted game,
+And if the following day he chance to find
+A new repast, or an untasted spring,
+Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.
+
+_Jub._ Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern
+What virtues grow from ignorance and choice,
+Nor how the hero differs from the brute.
+Where shall we find the man that bears affliction,
+Great and majestic in his griefs, like Cato?
+How does he rise against a load of woes,
+And thank the gods that threw the weight upon him!
+
+_Syph._ 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul;
+I think the Romans call it stoicism.
+Had not your royal father thought so highly
+Of Roman virtue, and of Cato's cause,
+He had not fall'n by a slave's hand inglorious.
+
+_Jub._ Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh?
+My father's name brings tears into my eyes.
+
+_Syph._ Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills!
+
+_Jub._ What wouldst thou have me do?
+
+_Syph._ Abandon Cato.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, I should be more than twice an orphan
+By such a loss.
+
+_Syph._ Ay, there's the tie that binds you!
+You long to call him father. Marcia's charms
+Work in your heart unseen, and plead for Cato.
+No wonder you are deaf to all I say.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, your zeal becomes importunate;
+I've hitherto permitted it to rave,
+And talk at large; but learn to keep it in,
+Lest it should take more freedom than I'll give it.
+
+_Syph._ Sir, your great father never used me thus.
+Alas, he's dead! but can you e'er forget
+The tender sorrows,
+And repeated blessings,
+Which you drew from him in your last farewell?
+The good old king, at parting, wrung my hand,
+(His eyes brimful of tears) then sighing cried,
+Pr'ythee be careful of my son!----His grief
+Swell'd up so high, he could not utter more.
+
+_Jub._ Alas! thy story melts away my soul!
+That best of fathers! how shall I discharge
+The gratitude and duty that I owe him?
+
+_Syph._ By laying up his counsels in your heart.
+
+_Jub._ His counsels bade me yield to thy direction:
+Then, Syphax, chide me in severest terms,
+Vent all thy passion, and I'll stand its shock,
+Calm and unruffled as a summer sea,
+When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface.
+
+_Syph._ Alas! my prince, I'd guide you to your safety.
+
+_Jub._ I do believe thou wouldst; but tell me how?
+
+_Syph._ Fly from the fate that follows Cęsar's foes.
+
+_Jub._ My father scorn'd to do it.
+
+_Syph._ And therefore died.
+
+_Jub._ Better to die ten thousand thousand deaths,
+Than wound my honour.
+
+_Syph._ Rather say, your love.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, I've promised to preserve my temper;
+Why wilt thou urge me to confess a flame
+I long have stifled, and would fain conceal?
+
+_Syph._ Believe me, prince, though hard to conquer love,
+'Tis easy to divert and break its force.
+Absence might cure it, or a second mistress
+Light up another flame, and put out this.
+The glowing dames of Zama's royal court
+Have faces flush'd with more exalted charms;
+Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget
+The pale, unripen'd beauties of the north.
+
+_Jub._ 'Tis not a set of features, or complexion,
+The tincture of a skin, that I admire:
+Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
+Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
+The virtuous Marcia tow'rs above her sex:
+True, she is fair (Oh, how divinely fair!),
+But still the lovely maid improves her charms,
+With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom,
+And sanctity of manners; Cato's soul
+Shines out in every thing she acts or speaks,
+While winning mildness and attractive smiles
+Dwell in her looks, and, with becoming grace,
+Soften the rigour of her father's virtue.
+
+_Syph._ How does your tongue grow wanton in her praise!
+But on my knees, I beg you would consider--
+
+_Jub._ Ha! Syphax, is't not she?--She moves this way;
+And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter.
+My heart beats thick--I pr'ythee, Syphax, leave me.
+
+_Syph._ Ten thousand curses fasten on them both!
+Now will the woman, with a single glance,
+Undo what I've been lab'ring all this while.      [_Exit_ SYPHAX.
+
+_Enter_ MARCIA _and_ LUCIA.
+
+_Jub._ Hail, charming maid! How does thy beauty smooth
+The face of war, and make even horror smile!
+At sight of thee my heart shakes off its sorrows;
+I feel a dawn of joy break in upon me,
+And for a while forget th' approach of Cęsar.
+
+_Marcia._ I should be grieved, young prince, to think my presence
+Unbent your thoughts, and slacken'd them to arms,
+While, warm with slaughter, our victorious foe
+Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field.
+
+_Jub._ Oh, Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns
+And gentle wishes follow me to battle!
+The thought will give new vigour to my arm,
+And strength and weight to my descending sword,
+And drive it in a tempest on the foe.
+
+_Marcia._ My pray'rs and wishes always shall attend
+The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue,
+And men approved of by the gods and Cato.
+
+_Jub._ That Juba may deserve thy pious cares,
+I'll gaze for ever on thy godlike father,
+Transplanting one by one, into my life,
+His bright perfections, till I shine like him.
+
+_Marcia._ My father never, at a time like this,
+Would lay out his great soul in words, and waste
+Such precious moments.
+
+_Jub._ Thy reproofs are just,
+Thou virtuous maid; I'll hasten to my troops,
+And fire their languid souls with Cato's virtue.
+If e'er I lead them to the field, when all
+The war shall stand ranged in its just array,
+And dreadful pomp, then will I think on thee;
+Oh, lovely maid! then will I think on thee;
+And, in the shock of charging hosts, remember
+What glorious deeds should grace the man who hopes
+For Marcia's love.      [_Exit_ JUBA.
+
+_Lucia._ Marcia, you're too severe;
+How could you chide the young good-natured prince,
+And drive him from you with so stern an air,
+A prince that loves, and dotes on you to death?
+
+_Marcia._ 'Tis therefore, Lucia, that I chide him from me;
+His air, his voice, his looks, and honest soul,
+Speak all so movingly in his behalf,
+I dare not trust myself to hear him talk.
+
+_Lucia._ Why will you fight against so sweet a passion,
+And steel your heart to such a world of charms?
+
+_Marcia._ How, Lucia! wouldst thou have me sink away
+In pleasing dreams, and lose myself in love,
+When ev'ry moment Cato's life's at stake?
+Cęsar comes arm'd with terror and revenge,
+And aims his thunder at my father's head.
+Should not the sad occasion swallow up
+My other cares?
+
+_Lucia._ Why have I not this constancy of mind,
+Who have so many griefs to try its force?
+Sure, Nature form'd me of her softest mould,
+Enfeebled all my soul with tender passions,
+And sunk me ev'n below my own weak sex:
+Pity and love, by turns, oppress my heart.
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, disburden all thy cares on me,
+And let me share thy most retired distress.
+Tell me, who raises up this conflict in thee?
+
+_Lucia._ I need not blush to name them, when I tell thee
+They're Marcia's brothers, and the sons of Cato.
+
+_Marcia._ They both behold thee with their sister's eyes,
+And often have reveal'd their passion to me.
+But tell me, which of them is Lucia's choice?
+
+_Lucia._ Suppose 'twere Portius, could you blame my choice?--
+Oh, Portius, thou hast stolen away my soul!
+Marcus is over warm, his fond complaints
+Have so much earnestness and passion in them,
+I hear him with a secret kind of horror,
+And tremble at his vehemence of temper.
+
+_Marcia._ Alas, poor youth!
+How will thy coldness raise
+Tempests and storms in his afflicted bosom!
+I dread the consequence.
+
+_Lucia._ You seem to plead
+Against your brother Portius.
+
+_Marcia._ Heav'n forbid.
+Had Portius been the unsuccessful lover,
+The same compassion would have fall'n on him.
+
+_Lucia._ Was ever virgin love distress'd like mine!
+Portius himself oft falls in tears before me
+As if he mourn'd his rival's ill success;
+Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,
+Nor show which way it turns--so much he fears
+The sad effect that it will have on Marcus.
+
+_Marcia._ Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our sorrows,
+But to the gods submit the event of things.
+Our lives, discolour'd with our present woes,
+May still grow bright, and smile with happier hours.
+
+So the pure limpid stream, when foul with stains
+Of rushing torrents and descending rains,
+Works itself clear, and, as it runs, refines,
+Till, by degrees, the floating mirror shines;
+Reflects each flower that on the border grows,
+And a new heav'n in its fair bosom shows.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE SECOND.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_The Senate sitting._
+
+_Flourish._
+
+_Enter_ CATO.
+
+_Cato._ Fathers, we once again are met in council;
+Cęsar's approach has summon'd us together,
+And Rome attends her fate from our resolves.
+How shall we treat this bold aspiring man?
+Success still follows him, and backs his crimes;
+Pharsalia gave him Rome, Egypt has since
+Received his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cęsar's.
+Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,
+And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands
+Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should decree
+What course to take. Our foe advances on us,
+And envies us even Lybia's sultry deserts.
+Fathers, pronounce your thoughts: are they still fix'd
+To hold it out, and fight it to the last?
+Or are your hearts subdued at length, and wrought,
+By time and ill success, to a submission?
+Sempronius, speak.
+
+_Sem._ Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
+Which of the two to chuse, slav'ry or death!
+No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
+And, at the head of our remaining troops,
+Attack the foe, break through the thick array
+Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him.
+Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest,
+May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
+Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help;
+Rise, and revenge her slaughter'd citizens,
+Or share their fate!--
+To battle!
+Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow;
+And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us.
+
+_Cato._ Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal
+Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason;
+True fortitude is seen in great exploits,
+That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides;
+All else is tow'ring phrensy and distraction.
+Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion.
+
+_Luc._ My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace.
+Already have our quarrels fill'd the world
+With widows, and with orphans: Scythia mourns
+Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions
+Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome:
+'Tis time to sheathe the sword, and spare mankind.
+Already have we shown our love to Rome,
+Now let us show submission to the gods.
+We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves,
+But free the commonwealth; when this end fails,
+Arms have no further use. Our country's cause,
+That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands.
+And bids us not delight in Roman blood,
+Unprofitably shed. What men could do,
+Is done already: Heav'n and earth will witness,
+If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.
+
+_Cato._ Let us appear nor rash nor diffident;
+Immod'rate valour swells into a fault;
+And fear, admitted into public councils,
+Betrays like treason. Let us shun them both.
+Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs
+Are grown thus desp'rate: we have bulwarks round us;
+Within our walls are troops inured to toil
+In Afric's heat, and season'd to the sun;
+Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us,
+Ready to rise at its young prince's call.
+While there is hope, do not distrust the gods;
+But wait, at least, till Cęsar's near approach
+Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late
+To sue for chains, and own a conqueror.
+Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time?
+No, let us draw her term of freedom out
+In its full length, and spin it to the last,
+So shall we gain still one day's liberty;
+And let me perish, but in Cato's judgment,
+A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty,
+Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.
+
+_Enter_ MARCUS.
+
+_Marc._ Fathers, this moment, as I watch'd the gate,
+Lodged on my post, a herald is arrived
+From Cęsar's camp, and with him comes old Decius,
+The Roman knight; he carries in his looks
+Impatience, and demands to speak with Cato.
+
+_Cato._ By your permission, fathers--bid him enter.     [_Exit_ MARCUS.
+Decius was once my friend, but other prospects
+Have loosed those ties, and bound him fast to Cęsar.
+His message may determine our resolves.
+
+_Enter_ DECIUS.
+
+_Dec._ Cęsar sends health to Cato--
+
+_Cato._ Could he send it
+To Cato's slaughter'd friends, it would be welcome.
+Are not your orders to address the senate?
+
+_Dec._ My business is with Cato. Cęsar sees
+The straits to which you're driven; and, as he knows
+Cato's high worth, is anxious for your life.
+
+_Cato._ My life is grafted on the fate of Rome.
+Would he save Cato, bid him spare his country.
+Tell your dictator this; and tell him, Cato
+Disdains a life which he has power to offer.
+
+_Dec._ Rome and her senators submit to Cęsar;
+Her gen'rals and her consuls are no more,
+Who check'd his conquests, and denied his triumphs.
+Why will not Cato be this Cęsar's friend?
+
+_Cato._ These very reasons thou hast urged forbid it.
+
+_Dec._ Cato, I've 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 Cęsar;
+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._ Cęsar 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, though Cato's voice was ne'er employ'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 Cęsar's foe?
+
+_Cato._ Greater than Cęsar: he's a friend to virtue.
+
+_Dec._ Consider, Cato, you're in Utica,
+And at the head of your own little senate:
+You do not thunder in the capitol,
+With all the mouths of Rome to second you.
+
+_Cato._ Let him consider that, who drives us hither.
+'Tis Cęsar'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 them.
+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
+Should never buy me to be like that Cęsar.
+
+_Dec._ Does Cato send this answer back to Cęsar,
+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.
+Would Cęsar show 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 sheltering men much better than himself.
+
+_Dec._ Your high, unconquer'd heart makes you forget
+You are a man. You rush on your destruction.
+But I have done. When I relate hereafter
+The tale of this unhappy embassy,
+All Rome will be in tears.      [_Exit_ DECIUS.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, we thank thee.
+The mighty genius of immortal Rome
+Speaks in thy voice; thy soul breathes liberty.
+Cęsar 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.
+
+_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.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, my resentments
+Are sacrificed to Rome--I stand reproved.
+
+_Cato._ Fathers, 'tis time you come to a resolve.
+
+_Luc._ Cato, we all go in to your opinion;
+Cęsar's behaviour has convinced 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.     [_Exeunt_ SENATORS.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+Juba, the Roman senate has resolved,
+Till time give better prospects, still to keep
+The sword unsheathed, and turn its edge on Cęsar.
+
+_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,
+"Whatever fortune shall befal 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 them."
+
+_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
+Th' 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.
+
+_Cato._ And canst thou think
+Cato will fly before the sword of Cęsar?
+Reduced, 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
+Would 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, which 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 Cęsar.
+
+_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?
+Thy words confound me.
+
+_Jub._ I would fain retract them.
+Give them me back again: they aimed 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 aught
+But chains or conquest, liberty or death.       [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ SYPHAX.
+
+_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!
+
+_Syph._ Alas, my prince, how are you changed 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.
+I've seen you,
+Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down,
+Then charge him close,
+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, would now lose all its sweetness.
+Cato's displeased, and Marcia lost for ever.
+
+_Syph._ Young prince, I yet could give you good advice;
+Marcia might still be yours.
+
+_Jub._ As how, dear Syphax?
+
+_Syph._ Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,
+Mounted on steeds unused to the restraint
+Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:
+Give but the word, we 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 inexperienced men
+To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.
+
+_Jub._ Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a ruffian?
+
+_Syph._ The boasted ancestors of these 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, Cęsars, 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.
+
+_Jub._ If knowledge of the world makes men perfidious,
+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've gone too 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, the 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._ 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 mistakest; I did not call thee so.
+
+_Syph._ You did, indeed, my prince, you call'd me traitor.
+Nay, further, threatened 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 lovest 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._ 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 forwardness of age:
+Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy person.
+If e'er the sceptre come into my hand,
+Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom.
+
+_Syph._ Why will you overwhelm my age with kindness?
+My joys grow burdensome, I sha'n'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.      [_Exit._
+
+_Syph._ Young men soon give, and soon forget, affronts;
+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:
+Cęsar, I'm wholly thine.
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS.
+
+All hail, Sempronius!
+Well, Cato's senate is resolved to wait
+The fury of a siege, before it yields.
+
+_Sem._ Syphax, we both were on the verge of fate;
+Lucius declared for peace, and terms were offer'd
+To Cato, by a messenger from Cęsar.
+Should they submit, ere our designs are ripe,
+We both must perish in the common wreck,
+Lost in the general, 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 unmoved, 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 Cęsar.
+
+_Syph._ But what's this messenger?
+
+_Sem._ I've practised with him,
+And found a means to let the victor know
+That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends.
+But let me now examine in my turn;
+Is Juba fix'd?
+
+_Syph._ Yes--but it is to Cato.
+I've tried the force of every reason on him,
+Soothed and caress'd; been angry, soothed again;
+Laid safety, life, and interest in his sight;
+But all are vain, he scorns them all for Cato.
+
+_Sem._ Come, 'tis no matter; we shall do without him.
+He'll make a pretty figure in a triumph,
+And serve to trip before the victor's chariot.
+Syphax, I now may hope thou hast forsook
+Thy Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine.
+
+_Syph._ May she be thine as fast as thou wouldst have her.
+
+_Sem._ Syphax, I love that woman; though I curse
+Her and myself, yet, spite of me, I love her.
+
+_Syph._ Make Cato sure, and give up Utica,
+Cęsar will ne'er refuse thee such a trifle.
+But are thy troops prepared for a revolt?
+Does the sedition catch from man to man,
+And run among the ranks?
+
+_Sem._ All, all is ready;
+The factious leaders are our friends, that spread
+Murmurs and discontents among the soldiers;
+They count their toilsome marches, long fatigues,
+Unusual fastings, and will hear no more
+This medley of philosophy and war.
+Within an hour they'll storm the senate house.
+
+_Syph._ Meanwhile I'll draw up my Numidian troops
+Within the square, to exercise their arms,
+And, as I see occasion, favour thee.
+I laugh, to see how your unshaken Cato
+Will look aghast, while unforeseen destruction
+Pours in upon him thus from every side.
+So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend,
+Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend,
+Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play,
+Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away.
+The helpless traveller, with wild surprise,
+Sees the dry desert all around him rise,
+And, smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE THIRD.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Chamber._
+
+_Enter_ MARCUS _and_ PORTIUS.
+
+_Marc._ Thanks to my stars, I have not ranged about
+The wilds of life, ere I could find a friend;
+Nature first pointed out my Portius to me,
+And early taught me, by her secret force,
+To love thy person, ere I knew thy merit,
+Till what was instinct, grew up into friendship.
+
+_Por._ Marcus, the friendships of the world are oft
+Confed'racies in vice, or leagues of pleasure;
+Ours has severest virtue for its basis,
+And such a friendship ends not but with life.
+
+_Marc._ Portius, thou know'st my soul in all its weakness;
+Then, pr'ythee, spare me on its tender side;
+Indulge me but in love, my other passions
+Shall rise and fall by virtue's nicest rules.
+
+_Por._ When love's well-timed, 'tis not a fault to love.
+The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise,
+Sink in the soft captivity together.
+
+_Marc._ Alas, thou talk'st like one that never felt
+Th' impatient throbs and longings of a soul,
+That pants and reaches after distant good!
+A lover does not live by vulgar time;
+Believe me, Portius, in my Lucia's absence
+Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden;
+And yet, when I behold the charming maid,
+I'm ten times more undone; while hope and fear,
+And grief and rage, and love, rise up at once,
+And with variety of pain distract me.
+
+_Por._ What can thy Portius do to give thee help?
+
+_Marc._ Portius, thou oft enjoy'st the fair one's presence;
+Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her
+With all the strength and heat of eloquence
+Fraternal love and friendship can inspire.
+Tell her thy brother languishes to death,
+And fades away, and withers in his bloom;
+That he forgets his sleep, and loathes his food;
+That youth, and health, and war, are joyless to him;
+Describe his anxious days, and restless nights,
+And all the torments that thou see'st me suffer.
+
+_Por._ Marcus, I beg thee give me not an office,
+That suits with me so ill. Thou know'st my temper.
+
+_Marc._ Wilt thou behold me sinking in my woes,
+And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,
+To raise me from amidst this plunge of sorrows?
+
+_Por._ Marcus, thou canst not ask what I'd refuse;
+But here, believe me, I've a thousand reasons----
+
+_Marc._ I know thou'lt say my passion's out of season,
+That Cato's great example and misfortunes
+Should both conspire to drive it from my thoughts.
+But what's all this to one that loves like me?
+O Portius, Portius, from my soul I wish
+Thou did'st but know thyself what 'tis to love!
+Then wouldst thou pity and assist thy brother.
+
+_Por._ What should I do? If I disclose my passion,
+Our friendship's at an end: if I conceal it,
+The world will call me false to a friend and brother.      [_Aside._
+
+_Marc._ But see, where Lucia, at her wonted hour,
+Amid the cool of yon high marble arch,
+Enjoys the noon-day breeze! Observe her, Portius;
+That face, that shape, those eyes, that heav'n of beauty!
+Observe her well, and blame me if thou canst.
+
+_Por._ She sees us, and advances----
+
+_Marc._ I'll withdraw,
+And leave you for a while. Remember, Portius,
+Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue.      [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Did not I see your brother Marcus here?
+Why did he fly the place, and shun my presence?
+
+_Por._ Oh, Lucia, language is too faint to show
+His rage of love; it preys upon his life;
+He pines, he sickens, he despairs, he dies!
+
+_Lucia._ How wilt thou guard thy honour, in the shock
+Of love and friendship! Think betimes, my Portius,
+Think how the nuptial tie, that might ensure
+Our mutual bliss, would raise to such a height
+Thy brother's griefs, as might perhaps destroy him.
+
+_Por._ Alas, poor youth! What dost thou think, my Lucia?
+His gen'rous, open, undesigning heart
+Has begg'd his rival to solicit for him!
+Then do not strike him dead with a denial.
+
+_Lucia._ No, Portius, no; I see thy sister's tears,
+Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death,
+In the pursuit of our ill-fated loves;
+And, Portius, here I swear, to Heav'n I swear,
+To Heav'n, and all the powers that judge mankind,
+Never to mix my plighted hands with thine,
+While such a cloud of mischief hangs upon us,
+But to forget our loves, and drive thee out
+From all my thoughts--as far as I am able.
+
+_Por._ What hast thou said? I'm thunderstruck--recall
+Those hasty words, or I am lost for ever.
+
+_Lucia._ Has not the vow already pass'd my lips?
+The gods have heard it, and 'tis seal'd in heav'n.
+May all the vengeance that was ever pour'd
+On perjured heads, o'erwhelm me if I break it!
+
+_Por._ Fix'd in astonishment, I gaze upon thee,
+Like one just blasted by a stroke from heav'n,
+Who pants for breath and stiffens, yet alive,
+In dreadful looks, a monument of wrath!
+
+_Lucia._ Think, Portius, think thou see'st thy dying brother
+Stabb'd at his heart, and all besmear'd with blood,
+Storming at Heav'n and thee! Thy awful sire
+Sternly demands the cause, the accursed cause,
+That robs him of his son: poor Marcia trembles,
+Then tears her hair, and, frantic in her griefs,
+Calls out on Lucia. What could Lucia answer,
+Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow?
+
+_Por._ To my confusion and eternal grief,
+I must approve the sentence that destroys me.
+
+_Lucia._ Portius, no more; thy words shoot through my heart,
+Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love.
+Why are those tears of fondness in thy eyes?
+Why heaves thy heart? Why swells thy soul with sorrow?
+It softens me too much--Farewell, my Portius!
+Farewell, though death is in the word,--for ever!
+
+_Por._ Stay, Lucia, stay! What dost thou say? For ever?
+Thou must not go; my soul still hovers o'er thee,
+And can't get loose.
+
+_Lucia._ If the firm Portius shake,
+To hear of parting, think what Lucia suffers!
+
+_Por._ 'Tis true, unruffled and serene, I've met
+The common accidents of life, but here
+Such an unlook'd-for storm of ills falls on me.
+It beats down all my strength--I cannot bear it.
+We must not part.
+
+_Lucia._ What dost thou say? Not part!
+Hast thou forgot the vow that I have made?
+Are not there heavens, and gods, that thunder o'er us?
+--But see, thy brother Marcus bends this way;
+I sicken at the sight. Once more, farewell.
+Farewell, and know, thou wrong'st me, if thou think'st
+Ever was love or ever grief like mine.      [_Exit_ LUCIA.
+
+_Enter_ MARCUS.
+
+_Marc._ Portius, what hopes? How stands she? am I doom'd
+To life or death?
+
+_Por._ What wouldst thou have me say?
+
+_Marc._ What means this pensive posture? Thou appear'st
+Like one amazed and terrified.
+
+_Por._ I've reason.
+
+_Marc._ Thy downcast looks, and thy disorder'd thoughts,
+Tell me my fate. I ask not the success
+My cause has found.
+
+_Por._ I'm grieved I undertook it.
+
+_Marc._ What, does the barbarous maid insult my heart,
+My aching heart, and triumph in my pains?
+That I could cast her from my thoughts for ever!
+
+_Por._ Away! you're too suspicious in your griefs;
+Lucia, though sworn never to think of love,
+Compassionates your pains, and pities you.
+
+_Marc._ Compassionates my pains, and pities me!
+What is compassion, when 'tis void of love?
+Fool that I was, to choose so cold a friend
+To urge my cause!--Compassionates my pains!
+Pr'ythee what art, what rhet'ric didst thou use
+To gain this mighty boon?--She pities me!
+To one that asks the warm returns of love,
+Compassion's cruelty, 'tis scorn, 'tis death--
+
+_Por._ Marcus, no more; have I deserved this treatment?
+
+_Marc._ What have I said? Oh! Portius, Oh, forgive me!
+A soul exasperated in ills, falls out
+With every thing--its friend, itself--but hah!      [_Shout._
+What means that shout, big with the sounds of war?
+What new alarm?
+
+_Por._ A second, louder yet,
+Swells in the wind, and comes more full upon us.
+
+_Marc._ Oh, for some glorious cause to fall in battle!
+Lucia, thou hast undone me: thy disdain
+Has broke my heart; 'tis death must give me ease.
+
+_Por._ Quick let us hence. Who knows if Cato's life
+Stands sure? Oh, Marcus, I am warm'd; my heart
+Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_Part of the Senate House._
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS, _with_ LEADERS _of the Mutiny_.
+
+_Sem._ At length the winds are raised, the storm blows high!
+Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up
+In all its fury, and direct it right,
+Till it has spent itself on Cato's head.
+Meanwhile, I'll herd among his friends, and seem
+One of the number, that, whate'er arrive,
+My friends and fellow soldiers may be safe.      [_Exit._
+
+_1 Lead._ We are all safe; Sempronius is our friend.
+Sempronius is as brave a man as Cato.
+But, hark, he enters. Bear up boldly to him;
+Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast;
+This day will end our toils.
+Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS, _with_ CATO, LUCIUS, PORTIUS, _and_ MARCUS.
+
+_Cato._ Where are those bold, intrepid sons of war,
+That greatly turn their backs upon the foe,
+And to their general send a brave defiance?
+
+_Sem._ Curse on their dastard souls, they stand astonish'd!     [_Aside._
+
+_Cato._ Perfidious men! And will you thus dishonour
+Your past exploits, and sully all your wars?
+Why could not Cato fall
+Without your guilt! Behold, ungrateful men,
+Behold my bosom naked to your swords,
+And let the man that's injured strike the blow.
+Which of you all suspects that he is wrong'd,
+Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato?
+Am I distinguished from you but by toils,
+Superior toils, and heavier weight of cares?
+Painful pre-eminence!
+
+_Sem._ Confusion to the villains! all is lost!      [_Aside._
+
+_Cato._ Have you forgotten Lybia's burning waste,
+Its barren rocks, parch'd earth, and hills of sand,
+Its tainted air, and all its broods of poison?
+Who was the first to explore th' untrodden path,
+When life was hazarded in ev'ry step?
+Or, fainting in the long laborious march,
+When, on the banks of an unlook'd-for stream,
+You sunk the river with repeated draughts,
+Who was the last of all your host who thirsted?
+
+_Sem._ Did not his temples glow
+In the same sultry winds and scorching heats?
+
+_Cato._ Hence, worthless men! hence! and complain to Cęsar,
+You could not undergo the toil of war,
+Nor bear the hardships that your leader bore.
+
+_Lucius._ See, Cato, see the unhappy men: they weep!
+Fear, and remorse, and sorrow for their crime,
+Appear in ev'ry look, and plead for mercy.
+
+_Cato._ Learn to be honest men; give up yon leaders,
+And pardon shall descend on all the rest.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, commit these wretches to my care;
+First let them each be broken on the rack,
+Then, with what life remains, impaled, and left
+To writhe at leisure round the bloody stake;
+There let them hang, and taint the southern wind.
+The partners of their crime will learn obedience.
+
+_Cato._ Forbear, Sempronius!--see they suffer death,
+But in their deaths remember they are men;
+Strain not the laws, to make their tortures grievous.
+Lucius, the base, degen'rate age requires
+Severity.
+When by just vengeance guilty mortals perish,
+The gods behold the punishment with pleasure,
+And lay th' uplifted thunderbolt aside.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, I execute thy will with pleasure.
+
+_Cato._ Meanwhile, we'll sacrifice to liberty.
+Remember, O my friends! the laws, the rights,
+The gen'rous plan of power delivered down
+From age to age by your renown'd forefathers,
+(So dearly bought, the price of so much blood:)
+Oh, let it never perish in your hands!
+But piously transmit it to your children.
+Do thou, great liberty, inspire our souls,
+And make our lives in thy possession happy,
+Or our deaths glorious in thy just defence.      [_Exeunt_ CATO, _etc._
+
+_1 Lead._ Sempronius, you have acted like yourself.
+One would have thought you had been half in earnest.
+
+_Sem._ Villain, stand off; base, grov'ling, worthless wretches,
+Mongrels in faction, poor faint-hearted traitors!
+
+_1 Lead._ Nay, now, you carry it too far, Sempronius!
+
+_Sem._ Know, villains, when such paltry slaves presume
+To mix in treason, if the plot succeeds,
+They're thrown neglected by; but if it fails,
+They're sure to die like dogs, as you shall do.
+Here, take these factious monsters, drag them forth
+To sudden death.
+
+_1 Lead._ Nay, since it comes to this--
+
+_Sem._ Dispatch them quick, but first pluck out their tongues,
+Lest with their dying breath they sow sedition.
+                      [_Exeunt_ GUARDS, _with their_ LEADERS.
+
+_Enter_ SYPHAX.
+
+_Syph._ Our first design, my friend, has proved abortive;
+Still there remains an after-game to play;
+My troops are mounted;
+Let but Sempronius head us in our flight,
+We'll force the gate where Marcus keeps his guard,
+And hew down all that would oppose our passage.
+A day will bring us into Cęsar's camp.
+
+_Sem._ Confusion! I have fail'd of half my purpose:
+Marcia, the charming Marcia's left behind!
+
+_Syph._ How! will Sempronius turn a woman's slave?
+
+_Sem._ Think not thy friend can ever feel the soft
+Unmanly warmth and tenderness of love.
+Syphax, I long to clasp that haughty maid,
+And bend her stubborn virtue to my passion:
+When I have gone thus far, I'd cast her off.
+
+_Syph._ Well said! that's spoken like thyself, Sempronius!
+What hinders, then, but that thou find her out,
+And hurry her away by manly force?
+
+_Sem._ But how to gain admission? For access
+Is given to none but Juba, and her brothers.
+
+_Syph._ Thou shalt have Juba's dress, and Juba's guards;
+The doors will open, when Numidia's prince
+Seems to appear before the slaves that watch them.
+
+_Sem._ Heavens, what a thought is there! Marcia's my own!
+How will my bosom swell with anxious joy,
+When I behold her struggling in my arms,
+With glowing beauty, and disorder'd charms,
+While fear and anger, with alternate grace,
+Pant in her breast, and vary in her face!
+So Pluto seized off Proserpine, convey'd
+To hell's tremendous gloom th' affrighted maid;
+There grimly smiled, pleased with the beauteous prize,
+Nor envied Jove his sunshine and his skies.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE FOURTH.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Chamber._
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA _and_ MARCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Now, tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy soul,
+If thou believest 'tis possible for woman
+To suffer greater ills than Lucia suffers?
+
+_Marcia_ Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might my big swol'n heart
+Vent all its griefs, and give a loose to sorrow,
+Marcia could answer thee in sighs, keep pace
+With all thy woes, and count out tear for tear.
+
+_Lucia._ I know thou'rt doom'd alike to be beloved
+By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius:
+But which of these has power to charm like Portius?
+
+_Marcia._ Still, I must beg thee not to name Sempronius.
+Lucia, I like not that loud, boist'rous man.
+Juba, to all the bravery of a hero,
+Adds softest love, and more than female sweetness;
+Juba might make the proudest of our sex,
+Any of womankind, but Marcia, happy.
+
+_Lucia._ And why not Marcia? Come, you strive in vain
+To hide your thoughts from one who knows too well
+The inward glowings of a heart in love.
+
+_Marcia._ While Cato lives, his daughter has no right
+To love or hate, but as his choice directs.
+
+_Lucia._ But should this father give you to Sempronius?
+
+_Marcia._ I dare not think he will: but if he should--
+Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,
+Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?
+I hear the sound of feet! They march this way.
+Let us retire, and try if we can drown
+Each softer thought in sense of present danger:
+When love once pleads admission to our hearts,
+In spite of all the virtues we can boast,
+The woman that deliberates is lost.      [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS, _dressed like_ JUBA, _with_
+NUMIDIAN GUARDS.
+
+_Sem._ The deer is lodged, I've track'd her to her covert.
+How will the young Numidian rave to see
+His mistress lost! If aught could glad my soul,
+Beyond the enjoyment of so bright a prize,
+'Twould be to torture that young, gay barbarian.
+--But, hark! what noise! Death to my hopes! 'tis he,
+'Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left----
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ What do I see? Who's this that dares usurp
+The guards and habits of Numidia's prince?
+
+_Sem._ One that was born to scourge thy arrogance,
+Presumptuous youth!
+
+_Jub._ What can this mean? Sempronius!
+
+_Sem._ My sword shall answer thee. Have at thy heart.
+
+_Jub._ Nay then, beware thy own, proud, barbarous man.
+                                     [SEMPRONIUS _falls_.
+
+_Sem._ Curse on my stars! Am I then doom'd to fall
+By a boy's hand, disfigured in a vile
+Numidian dress, and for a worthless woman?
+Gods, I'm distracted! this my close of life!
+Oh, for a peal of thunder, that would make
+Earth, sea, and air, and heav'n, and Cato tremble!      [_Dies._
+
+_Jub._ I'll hence to Cato,
+That we may there at length unravel all
+This dark design, this mystery of fate.      [_Exit_ JUBA.
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA _and_ MARCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Sure 'twas the clash of swords; my troubled heart
+Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows,
+It throbs with fear, and aches at ev'ry sound.
+Oh, Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sake--
+I die away with horror at the thought!
+
+_Marcia._ See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder!
+Ha! a Numidian! Heav'n preserve the prince!
+The face lies muffled up within the garment,
+But ah! death to my sight! a diadem,
+And royal robes! O gods! 'tis he, 'tis he!
+Juba lies dead before us!
+
+_Lucia._ Now, Marcia, now, call up to thy assistance
+Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind;
+Thou canst not put it to a greater trial.
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, look there, and wonder at my patience;
+Have I not cause to rave, and beat my breast,
+To rend my heart with grief, and run distracted?
+
+_Lucia._ What can I think, or say, to give thee comfort?
+
+_Marcia._ Talk not of comfort, 'tis for lighter ills:
+Behold a sight that strikes all comfort dead.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA, _listening_.
+
+I will indulge my sorrows, and give way
+To all the pangs and fury of despair;
+That man, that best of men, deserved it from me.
+
+_Jub._ What do I hear? and was the false Sempronius
+That best of men? Oh, had I fall'n like him,
+And could have been thus mourn'd, I had been happy.
+
+_Marcia._ 'Tis not in fate to ease my tortured breast.
+Oh, he was all made up of love and charms!
+Whatever maid could wish, or man admire:
+Delight of every eye; when he appear'd,
+A secret pleasure gladden'd all that saw him;
+But when he talk'd, the proudest Roman blush'd
+To hear his virtues, and old age grew wise.
+Oh, Juba! Juba!
+
+_Jub._ What means that voice? Did she not call on Juba?
+
+_Marcia._ Why do I think on what he was? he's dead!
+He's dead, and never knew how much I loved him!
+Lucia, who knows but his poor, bleeding heart,
+Amidst its agonies, remember'd Marcia,
+And the last words he utter'd call'd me cruel!
+Alas! he knew not, hapless youth, he knew not
+Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba!
+
+_Jub._ Where am I? Do I live? or am indeed
+What Marcia thinks? All is Elysium round me!
+
+_Marcia._ Ye dear remains of the most loved of men,
+Nor modesty nor virtue here forbid
+A last embrace, while thus----
+
+_Jub._ See, Marcia, see,      [_Throwing himself before her._
+The happy Juba lives! he lives to catch
+That dear embrace, and to return it too,
+With mutual warmth, and eagerness of love.
+
+_Marcia._ With pleasure and amaze I stand transported!
+If thou art Juba, who lies there?
+
+_Jub._ A wretch,
+Disguised like Juba on a cursed design.
+I could not bear
+To leave thee in the neighbourhood of death,
+But flew, in all the haste of love, to find thee;
+I found thee weeping, and confess this once,
+Am rapt with joy, to see my Marcia's tears.
+
+_Marcia._ I've been surprised in an unguarded hour,
+But must not go back; the love, that lay
+Half smother'd in my breast, has broke through all
+Its weak restraints, and burns in its full lustre.
+I cannot, if I would, conceal it from thee.
+
+_Jub._ My joy, my best beloved, my only wish!
+How shall I speak the transport of my soul!
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, thy arm. Lead to my apartment.
+Oh! prince! I blush to think what I have said,
+But fate has wrested the confession from me;
+Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour.
+Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee,
+And make the gods propitious to our love.
+                    [_Exeunt_ MARCIA _and_ LUCIA.
+
+_Jub._ I am so blest, I fear 'tis all a dream.
+Fortune, thou now hast made amends for all
+Thy past unkindness: I absolve my stars.
+What though Numidia add her conquer'd towns
+And provinces to swell the victor's triumph,
+Juba will never at his fate repine:
+Let Cęsar have the world, if Marcia's mine.      [_Exit._
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_The Street._
+
+_A March at a distance._
+
+_Enter_ CATO _and_ LUCIUS.
+
+_Luc._ I stand astonish'd! What, the bold Sempronius,
+That still broke foremost through the crowd of patriots,
+As with a hurricane of zeal transported,
+And virtuous even to madness--
+
+_Cato._ Trust me, Lucius,
+Our civil discords have produced such crimes,
+Such monstrous crimes, I am surprized at nothing.
+--Oh Lucius, I am sick of this bad world!
+The daylight and the sun grow painful to me.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+But see, where Portius comes: what means this haste?
+Why are thy looks thus changed?
+
+_Por._ My heart is grieved,
+I bring such news as will afflict my father.
+
+_Cato._ Has Cęsar shed more Roman blood?
+
+_Por._ Not so.
+The traitor Syphax, as within the square
+He exercised his troops, the signal given,
+Flew off at once with his Numidian horse
+To the south gate, where Marcus holds the watch;
+I saw, and call'd to stop him, but in vain:
+He toss'd his arm aloft, and proudly told me,
+He would not stay, and perish, like Sempronius.
+
+_Cato._ Perfidious man! But haste, my son, and see
+Thy brother Marcus acts a Roman's part.      [_Exit_ PORTIUS.
+--Lucius, the torrent bears too hard upon me:
+Justice gives way to force: the conquer'd world
+Is Cęsar's! Cato has no business in it.
+
+_Luc._ While pride, oppression, and injustice reign,
+The world will still demand her Cato's presence.
+In pity to mankind submit to Cęsar,
+And reconcile thy mighty soul to life.
+
+_Cato._ Would Lucius have me live to swell the number
+Of Cęsar's slaves, or by a base submission
+Give up the cause of Rome, and own a tyrant?
+
+_Luc._ The victor never will impose on Cato
+Ungen'rous terms. His enemies confess
+The virtues of humanity are Cęsar's.
+
+_Cato._ Curse on his virtues! they've undone his country.
+Such popular humanity is treason----
+But see young Juba; the good youth appears,
+Full of the guilt of his perfidious subjects!
+
+_Luc._ Alas, poor prince! his fate deserves compassion.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ I blush, and am confounded to appear
+Before thy presence, Cato.
+
+_Cato._ What's thy crime?
+
+_Jub._ I'm a Numidian.
+
+_Cato._ And a brave one, too. Thou hast a Roman soul.
+
+_Jub._ Hast thou not heard of my false countrymen?
+
+_Cato._ Alas, young prince!
+Falsehood and fraud shoot up in ev'ry soil,
+The product of all climes--Rome has its Cęsars.
+
+_Jub._ 'Tis generous thus to comfort the distress'd.
+
+_Cato._ 'Tis just to give applause, where 'tis deserved:
+Thy virtue, prince, has stood the test of fortune,
+Like purest gold, that, tortured in the furnace,
+Comes out more bright, and brings forth all its weight.
+
+_Jub._ What shall I answer thee?
+I'd rather gain
+Thy praise, O Cato! than Numidia's empire.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+_Por._ Misfortune on misfortune! grief on grief!
+My brother Marcus----
+
+_Cato._ Ha! what has he done?
+Has he forsook his post? Has he given way?
+Did he look tamely on, and let them pass?
+
+_Por._ Scarce had I left my father, but I met him
+Borne on the shields of his surviving soldiers,
+Breathless and pale, and cover'd o'er with wounds.
+Long, at the head of his few faithful friends,
+He stood the shock of a whole host of foes,
+Till, obstinately brave, and bent on death,
+Oppress'd with multitudes, he greatly fell.
+
+_Cato._ I'm satisfied.
+
+_Por._ Nor did he fall, before
+His sword had pierced thro' the false heart of Syphax.
+Yonder he lies. I saw the hoary traitor
+Grin in the pangs of death, and bite the ground.
+
+_Cato._ Thanks to the gods, my boy has done his duty.
+--Portius, when I am dead, be sure you place
+His urn near mine.
+
+_Por._ Long may they keep asunder!
+
+_Luc._ Oh, Cato, arm thy soul with all its patience;
+See where the corpse of thy dead son approaches!
+The citizens and senators alarm'd,
+Have gather'd round it, and attend it weeping.
+
+CATO _meeting the Corpse_.--SENATORS _attending_.
+
+_Cato._ Welcome, my son! Here lay him down, my friends,
+Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure
+The bloody corse, and count those glorious wounds.
+--How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue!
+Who would not be that youth? What pity is it,
+That we can die but once, to serve our country!
+--Why sits this sadness on your brows, my friends?
+I should have blush'd, if Cato's house had stood
+Secure, and flourish'd in a civil war.
+Portius, behold thy brother, and remember,
+Thy life is not thy own when Rome demands it.
+
+_Jub._ Was ever man like this!
+
+_Cato._ Alas, my friends,
+Why mourn you thus? let not a private loss
+Afflict your hearts. 'Tis Rome requires our tears,
+The mistress of the world, the seat of empire,
+The nurse of heroes, the delight of gods,
+That humbled the proud tyrants of the earth,
+And set the nations free; Rome is no more.
+Oh, liberty! Oh, virtue! Oh, my country!
+
+_Jub._ Behold that upright man! Rome fills his eyes
+With tears, that flow'd not o'er his own dear son.      [_Aside._
+
+_Cato._ Whate'er the Roman virtue has subdued,
+The sun's whole course, the day and year, are Cęsar's:
+For him the self-devoted Decii died,
+The Fabii fell, and the great Scipios conquer'd:
+Ev'n Pompey fought for Cęsar. Oh, my friends,
+How is the toil of fate, the work of ages,
+The Roman empire, fall'n! Oh, cursed ambition!
+Fall'n into Cęsar's hands! Our great forefathers
+Had left him nought to conquer but his country.
+
+_Jub._ While Cato lives, Cęsar will blush to see
+Mankind enslaved, and be ashamed of empire.
+
+_Cato._ Cęsar ashamed! Has he not seen Pharsalia?
+
+_Luc._ 'Tis time thou save thyself and us.
+
+_Cato._ Lose not a thought on me; I'm out of danger:
+Heaven will not leave me in the victor's hand.
+Cęsar shall never say, he conquer'd Cato.
+But oh, my friends! your safety fills my heart
+With anxious thoughts; a thousand secret terrors
+Rise in my soul. How shall I save my friends?
+'Tis now, O Cęsar, I begin to fear thee!
+
+_Luc._ Cęsar has mercy, if we ask it of him.
+
+_Cato._ Then ask it, I conjure you; let him know,
+Whate'er was done against him, Cato did it.
+Add, if you please, that I request of him,--
+That I myself, with tears, request it of him,--
+The virtue of my friends may pass unpunish'd.
+Juba, my heart is troubled for thy sake.
+Should I advise thee to regain Numidia,
+Or seek the conqueror?
+
+_Jub._ If I forsake thee
+Whilst I have life, may Heaven abandon Juba!
+
+_Cato._ Thy virtues, prince, if I foresee aright,
+Will one day make thee great; at Rome, hereafter,
+'Twill be no crime to have been Cato's friend.
+Portius, draw near: my son, thou oft hast seen
+Thy sire engaged in a corrupted state,
+Wrestling with vice and faction: now thou see'st me
+Spent, overpower'd, despairing of success.
+Let me advise thee to retreat betimes
+To thy paternal seat, the Sabine field;
+Where the great Censor toil'd with his own hands,
+And all our frugal ancestors were bless'd
+In humble virtues, and a rural life;
+There live retired, pray for the peace of Rome;
+Content thyself to be obscurely good.
+When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
+The post of honour is a private station.
+
+_Por._ I hope my father does not recommend
+A life to Portius that he scorns himself.
+
+_Cato._ Farewell, my friends! If there be any of you
+Who dare not trust the victor's clemency,
+Know there are ships prepared, by my command,
+That shall convey you to the wish'd-for port.
+Is there aught else, my friends, I can do for you?
+The conqueror draws near. Once more, farewell!
+If e'er we meet hereafter, we shall meet
+In happier climes, and on a safer shore,
+Where Cęsar never shall approach us more.
+                          [_Pointing to his dead son._
+There, the brave youth, with love of virtue fired,
+Who greatly in his country's cause expired,
+Shall know he conquer'd. The firm patriot there,
+Who made the welfare of mankind his care,
+Though still by faction, vice, and fortune crost,
+Shall find the gen'rous labour was not lost.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE FIFTH.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Chamber._
+
+CATO _solus, sitting in a thoughtful Posture; in
+his Hand, Plato's Book on the Immortality of
+the Soul. A drawn Sword on the Table by him._
+
+_Cato._ It must be so--Plato, thou reason'st well--
+Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
+This longing after immortality?
+Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror,
+Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
+Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
+'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;
+'Tis Heav'n itself that points out an hereafter,
+And intimates eternity to man.
+Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
+Through what variety of untried being,
+Through what new scenes and changes must we pass?
+The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;
+But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it.
+Here will I hold. If there's a Power above us
+(And that there is, all Nature cries aloud
+Through all her works), He must delight in virtue;
+And that which He delights in must be happy.
+But when, or where?--this world was made for Cęsar:
+I'm weary of conjectures--this must end them.
+                 [_Laying his hand upon his sword._
+Thus am I doubly arm'd: my death and life,
+My bane and antidote, are both before me.
+This in a moment brings me to an end;
+But this informs me I shall never die.
+The soul, secured in her existence, smiles
+At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
+The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
+Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,
+But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
+Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
+The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
+What means this heaviness, that hangs upon me?
+This lethargy, that creeps through all my senses?
+Nature, oppress'd and harass'd out with care,
+Sinks down to rest. This once I'll favour her,
+That my awaken'd soul may take her flight,
+Renew'd in all her strength, and fresh with life,
+An offering lit for Heav'n. Let guilt or fear
+Disturb man's rest, Cato knows neither of them,
+Indiff'rent in his choice to sleep or die.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+But, hah! who's this? my son! Why this intrusion?
+Were not my orders that I would be private?
+Why am I disobey'd?
+
+_Por._ Alas, my father!
+What means this sword, this instrument of death?
+Let me convey it hence.
+
+_Cato._ Rash youth, forbear!
+
+_Por._ Oh, let the pray'rs, th' entreaties of your friends,
+Their tears, their common danger, wrest it from you!
+
+_Cato._ Wouldst thou betray me? Wouldst thou give me up,
+A slave, a captive, into Cęsar's hands?
+Retire, and learn obedience to a father,
+Or know, young man--
+
+_Por._ Look not thus sternly on me;
+You know, I'd rather die than disobey you.
+
+_Cato._ 'Tis well! again I'm master of myself.
+Now, Cęsar, let thy troops beset our gates,
+And bar each avenue; thy gath'ring fleets
+O'erspread the sea, and stop up ev'ry port;
+Cato shall open to himself a passage,
+And mock thy hopes.----
+
+_Por._ Oh, sir! forgive your son,
+Whose grief hangs heavy on him. Oh, my father!
+How am I sure it is not the last time
+I e'er shall call you so? Be not displeased,
+Oh, be not angry with me whilst I weep,
+And, in the anguish of my heart, beseech you
+To quit the dreadful purpose of your soul!
+
+_Cato._ Thou hast been ever good and dutiful.
+                              [_Embracing him._
+Weep not, my son, all will be well again;
+The righteous gods, whom I have sought to please,
+Will succour Cato, and preserve his children.
+
+_Por._ Your words give comfort to my drooping heart.
+
+_Cato._ Portius, thou may'st rely upon my conduct:
+Thy father will not act what misbecomes him.
+But go, my son, and see if aught be wanting
+Among thy father's friends; see them embark'd,
+And tell me if the winds and seas befriend them.
+My soul is quite weigh'd down with care, and asks
+The soft refreshment of a moment's sleep.
+
+_Por._ My thoughts are more at ease, my heart revives--
+                                      [_Exit_ CATO.
+
+_Enter_ MARCIA.
+
+Oh, Marcia! Oh, my sister, still there's hope
+Our father will not cast away a life
+So needful to us all, and to his country.
+He is retired to rest, and seems to cherish
+Thoughts full of peace.--He has dispatch'd me hence
+With orders that bespeak a mind composed,
+And studious for the safety of his friends.
+Marcia, take care, that none disturb his slumbers.      [_Exit._
+
+_Marcia._ Oh, ye immortal powers, that guard the just,
+Watch round his couch, and soften his repose,
+Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul
+With easy dreams; remember all his virtues,
+And show mankind that goodness is your care!
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Where is your father, Marcia; where is Cato?
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, speak low, he is retired to rest.
+Lucia, I feel a gentle dawning hope
+Rise in my soul--We shall be happy still.
+
+_Lucia._ Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato!
+In every view, in every thought, I tremble!
+Cato is stern and awful as a god;
+He knows not how to wink at human frailty,
+Or pardon weakness, that he never felt.
+
+_Marcia._ Though stern and awful to the foes of Rome,
+He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild;
+Compassionate and gentle to his friends;
+Fill'd with domestic tenderness, the best,
+The kindest father; I have ever found him
+Easy and good, and bounteous to my wishes.
+
+_Lucia._ 'Tis his consent alone can make us blest.
+Marcia, we both are equally involved
+In the same intricate, perplex'd distress.
+The cruel hand of fate, that has destroy'd
+Thy brother Marcus, whom we both lament----
+
+_Marcia._ And ever shall lament; unhappy youth!
+
+_Lucia._ Has set my soul at large, and now I stand
+Loose of my vow. But who knows Cato's thoughts?
+Who knows how yet he may dispose of Portius,
+Or how he has determined of himself?
+
+_Marcia._ Let him but live, commit the rest to Heav'n.
+
+_Enter_ LUCIUS.
+
+_Luc._ Sweet are the slumbers of the virtuous man!
+Oh, Marcia, I have seen thy godlike father!
+Some power invisible supports his soul,
+And bears it up in all its wonted greatness.
+A kind, refreshing sleep is fall'n upon him:
+I saw him stretch'd at ease; his fancy lost
+In pleasing dreams; as I drew near his couch,
+He smiled, and cried, "Cęsar, thou canst not hurt me."
+
+_Marcia._ His mind still labours with some dreadful thought.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from viewing
+The number, strength, and posture of our foes,
+Who now encamp within a short hour's march;
+On the high point of yon bright western tower,
+We ken them from afar; the setting sun
+Plays on their shining arms and burnish'd helmets,
+And covers all the field with gleams of fire.
+
+_Luc._ Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father.
+Cęsar is still disposed to give us terms,
+And waits at distance, till he hears from Cato.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+Portius, thy looks speak somewhat of importance,
+What tidings dost thou bring? Methinks, I see
+Unusual gladness sparkle in thy eyes.
+
+_Por._ As I was hasting to the port, where now
+My father's friends, impatient for a passage,
+Accuse the ling'ring winds, a sail arrived
+From Pompey's son, who, through the realms of Spain,
+Calls out for vengeance on his father's death,
+And rouses the whole nation up to arms.
+Were Cato at their head, once more might Rome
+Assert her rights, and claim her liberty.
+But, hark! what means that groan?----Oh, give me way,
+And let me fly into my father's presence!      [_Exit._
+
+_Luc._ Cato, amidst his slumbers, thinks on Rome,
+And, in the wild disorder of his soul,
+Mourns o'er his country.--Ha! a second groan--
+Heav'n guard us all!
+
+_Marcia._ Alas, 'tis not the voice
+Of one who sleeps; 'tis agonizing pain--
+'Tis death is in that sound----
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+_Por._ Oh, sight of woe!
+Oh, Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass--
+Cato has fall'n upon his sword----
+
+_Luc._ Oh, Portius,
+Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale,
+And let me guess the rest.
+
+_Por._ I've raised him up,
+And placed him in his chair; where pale and faint,
+He gasps for breath, and, as his life flows from him,
+Demands to see his friends. His servants weeping,
+Obsequious to his order, bear him hither!----
+
+_Marcia._ Oh, Heav'n! assist me in this dreadful hour,
+To pay the last sad duties to my father!
+
+CATO _brought on, in a Chair._
+
+_Cato._ Here set me down----
+Portius, come near me--Are my friends embark'd?
+Can any thing be thought of for their service?
+Whilst I yet live, let me not live in vain----
+Oh, Lucius, art thou here?--Thou art too good--
+Let this our friendship live between our children;
+Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia----
+Marcia, my daughter----
+Oh, bend me forward!----Juba loves thee, Marcia--
+A senator of Rome, while Rome survived,
+Would not have match'd his daughter with a king--
+But Cęsar's arms have thrown down all distinction--
+I'm sick to death----Oh, when shall I get loose
+From this vain world, th' abode of guilt and sorrow!
+And yet, methinks, a beam of light breaks in
+On my departing soul----Alas, I fear
+I've been too hasty!--Oh, ye powers, that search
+The heart of man, and weigh his inmost thoughts,
+If I have done amiss, impute it not----
+The best may err, but you are good, and--Oh!--      [_Dies._
+
+_Por._ There fled the greatest soul that ever warm'd
+A Roman breast:--
+From hence, let fierce contending nations know,
+What dire effects from civil discord flow:
+'Tis this that shakes our country with alarms;
+And gives up Rome a prey to Roman arms;
+Produces fraud, and cruelty, and strife,
+And robs the guilty world of Cato's life.      [_Exeunt omnes._
+
+
+THE END.
+
+PRINTED BY J. SMITH.
+
+
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Cato, by Joseph Addison, et al</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Cato</p>
+<p>       A Tragedy, in Five Acts</p>
+<p>Author: Joseph Addison</p>
+<p>Release Date: March 10, 2010  [eBook #31592]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATO***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau<br />
+    and the<br />
+    Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Canada Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdpcanada.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h1><span class="wide">CATO;</span></h1>
+
+<h2><i>A Tragedy,</i></h2>
+<h5>IN FIVE ACTS,</h5>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>BY JOSEPH ADDISON, ESQ.</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h5>AS PERFORMED AT THE</h5>
+<h3>THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN.</h3>
+
+<h5>PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS<br />
+FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.</h5>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>WITH REMARKS</h4>
+<h3>BY MRS. INCHBALD.</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h3>PARIS,</h3>
+<h4>PRINTED FOR BAUDRY,</h4>
+<h5>ENGLISH, ITALIAN, SPANISH, PORTUGUESE AND GERMAN<br />
+LIBRARY, RUE DU COQ-SAINT-HONORÉ.</h5>
+
+<h4>1823.</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="minimal" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>REMARKS.</h3>
+<p>The author of this tragedy, to whose vigorous
+mind the English are indebted for their
+choicest moral works, came into the world
+with a frame so weak, that he was christened
+immediately on his birth, in consequence of
+the symptoms he gave of a speedy dissolution.
+The hand which reared him did a
+more than ordinary service to the age in
+which he lived, and to succeeding generations.
+Addison's pious writings, untainted
+by the rigour of superstition, have softened
+the harsh spirit of ancient religion, whilst
+they have confirmed all its principles.</p>
+
+<p>He was the son of the Reverend Launcelot
+Addison, Rector of Milston, in the county
+of Wilts, at which place he was born, on the
+6th of May, 1672.</p>
+
+<p>After passing through some inferior schools,
+he was placed at the Charter-House; where
+he contracted that intimacy with Steele,
+which grew to a friendship honourable to
+them both, from its duration, and the instructions
+which their joint labour bestowed
+on mankind.</p>
+
+<p>At the age of fifteen, young Addison was
+entered at Queen's College, Oxford, where
+he applied himself so closely to study, that,
+in a few years, his Latin poetry gained him
+high reputation in both universities, and, at
+the age of twenty-two, he became known to
+the nation at large by his English compositions.</p>
+
+<p>He was now pressed by his father to take
+holy orders; which, notwithstanding his sedate
+turn of mind, and his habits of piety,
+he positively refused. Mr. Tickell has alleged,
+that it was Addison's extreme modesty,
+a constitutional timidity, which made
+him resolve against being in the church&mdash;but
+he became a statesman; and, surely, that is
+a character which requires as much courage
+as a clergyman's, when the church is not
+under persecution.</p>
+
+<p>The first dramatic work from the pen of
+Addison, was an opera called "Rosamond,"
+which having but indifferent success, he next
+assisted Steele in his play of "The Tender
+Husband;" for which the author surprised
+him by a dedication, openly to avow the
+obligation.</p>
+
+<p>These two friends now united their efforts
+in that well-known periodical work, "The
+Spectator;" by which they reformed the
+manners, as well as the morals, of their
+readers, and established their own literary
+fame. But, as the talents of Addison were
+superior to those of Steele, so are the papers
+in this work which were written by him
+esteemed above the rest;&mdash;and, as a mark of
+distinction, he had the laudable, or his friend
+Steele the honest pride, to affix a letter at
+the end of every such paper, by which it
+should be known for his. The Muse Clio
+furnished the four letters which have been
+thus used in "The Spectator," as Addison's
+honourable stamp of authorship.</p>
+
+<p>In the periodical work of "The Guardian"
+he had likewise some share; and, in 1713,
+he produced, what Dr. Johnson has called
+"the noblest work of Addison's genius"&mdash;"Cato."</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the merit of this play, it
+is certain that it was indebted to the political
+circumstances of the times, for that enthusiastic
+applause with which it was received
+by the town.</p>
+
+<p>The joy or sorrow which an author is certain
+to experience upon every new production,
+is far more powerful in the heart of a
+dramatist than in that of any other writer.
+The sound of clamorous plaudits raises his
+spirits to a kind of ecstacy; whilst hisses and
+groans, from a dissatisfied audience, strike
+on the ear like a personal insult, avowing
+loud and public contempt for that in which
+he has been labouring to show his skill.</p>
+
+<p>Addison, with his timid nature, felt all the
+excruciating tortures of an ambitious, yet a
+fearful dramatist. He could not stay at
+home on the first night of "Cato;" for to be
+told, at once, that his tragedy was driven
+from the stage with derision, had been to his
+tremulous nerves like the dart of death.
+Not less peril might have befallen him as an
+auditor&mdash;he therefore was neither present on
+the first performance, nor absent from the
+theatre;&mdash;but, placing himself on a bench
+in the green-room, his body motionless, his
+soul in tumult, he kept by his side a friend,
+whom he dispatched every minute towards
+the stage, to bring him news of what was
+passing there. He thus secured, he conceived,
+progressive information of his fate,
+without the risk of hearing it from an enraged
+multitude. But such was the vehemence
+of applause, that shouts of admiration
+forced their way through the walls of the
+green-room, before his messenger could return
+with the gladsome tidings. Yet, not
+till the last sentence was spoken, and the
+curtain fairly dropped upon Cato and his
+weeping friends, did the author venture to
+move from the inanimate position in which
+he was fixed. This acute dread of failure
+now heightened the joy of success, and never
+was success more complete.</p>
+
+<p>"Cato," says Pope, in a letter to one of
+his friends, written at the time, "was not so
+much the wonder of Rome in his days, as he
+is of Britain in ours."</p>
+
+<p>The most fortunate of all occurrences took
+place, from the skill with which Addison
+drew this illustrious Roman&mdash;he gave him so
+much virtue, that both Whigs and Tories
+declared him of their party; and instead of
+any one, on either side, opposing his sentences
+in the cause of freedom, all strove
+which should the most honour him.</p>
+
+<p>Both auditors and readers, since that noted
+period, much as they may praise this tragedy,
+complain that it wants the very first
+requisite of a dramatic work&mdash;power to affect
+the passions. This criticism shows, to the
+full extent, how men were impassioned, at
+that time, by their political sentiments. They
+brought their passions with them to the playhouse,
+fired on the subject of the play; and
+all the poet had to do was to extend the
+flame.</p>
+
+<p>It is a charge against this drama, that the
+love scenes are all insipid; but it should be
+considered, that neither Cato nor his family,
+with strict propriety, could love any thing
+but their country.&mdash;As this is a love which
+women feel in a much less degree than men,
+and as bondage, not liberty, is woman's wish,
+"Cato," with all his patriotism, must ever
+be a dull entertainment to the female sex;
+and men of course receive but little pleasure
+from elegant amusements, of which women
+do not partake.</p>
+
+<p>The language and sentiments contained here
+are worthy of the great Addison and the great
+Cato; and if, as it is objected, the characters
+are too elevated to be natural, yet they accord
+with that idea of nature which imagination
+conceives of such remarkable personages.</p>
+
+<p>The author of "Cato" had planned other
+tragedies and celebrated works, which the
+subsequent part of his days did not give him
+leisure to execute; for, on the death of Queen
+Anne, the Lords Justices made him their
+Secretary: he was soon after appointed principal
+Secretary of State. These, and other
+public employments, prevented his completing
+farther literary designs. Or, it may be
+thought, that the loss of his domestic tranquillity,
+at this time, by his marriage with the
+Countess Dowager of Warwick, might possibly
+impede every future attempt for the
+favour of the Muses, to whom this, his wife,
+had not the slightest affinity. It is supposed
+she embittered, by arrogance and discontent,
+the remainder of this good man's life, which
+terminated on the 17th of June, 1719, in
+the 47th year of his age. He died at Holland
+House, near Kensington, and left an only
+child, a daughter, by the Countess.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Warwick had also a son by her former
+husband, a very fine, spirited, and accomplished
+youth, for whose welfare the
+dying Addison showed peculiar concern; for,
+in the extremity of his disorder, having dismissed
+his physicians, and with them all
+hopes of recovery, he desired that the young
+Lord Warwick might be called to his bedside.
+He came&mdash;but life was now fast departing
+from his revered father-in-law, and
+he uttered not a word. After an afflicting
+pause, the young man said, "Dear sir, you
+sent for me; I believe, and I hope, that you
+have some commands; I shall hold them
+most sacred." Grasping his hand, Addison
+softly replied, "I sent for you, that you
+might see in what peace a Christian can die."
+He spoke with difficulty, and instantly expired.</p>
+
+<p>It is to this circumstance Mr. Tickell refers
+in his lines on Addison's death, where he has
+this passage:</p>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="text">
+<tr><td align="left">"He taught us how to live; and, oh! too high</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;A price for knowledge, taught us how to die."</td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="minimal" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="center">
+<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="4" summary="text">
+<tr><th colspan="2"><span class="wide">DRAMATIS PERSON&AElig;.</span></th></tr>
+
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Cato</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. Cooke.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Portius</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. Siddons.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Marcus</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. H. Johnston.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Sempronius</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. Cory.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Juba</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. Brunton.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Syphax</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. Murray.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Lucius</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. Claremont.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Decius</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mr. Williams.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Lucia</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Miss Marriott.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Marcia</i>,</td><td align="left"><span class="ind2">Mrs. Litchfield.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center" colspan="2"><i>Mutineers, Guards, etc.</i></td></tr>
+</table>
+<p class="noindent"><i>SCENE&mdash;The Governor's Palace in Utica.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="minimal" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>CATO.</h1>
+
+<h3>ACT THE FIRST.</h3>
+<h5>SCENE I.</h5>
+
+<div class="center">
+ <p class="noindent">
+  <i>A Hall.</i><br /><br />
+  <i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcus</span>.
+ </p>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+ <table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="act_1">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> The dawn is overcast, the morning low'rs,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And heavily in clouds brings on the day,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The great, the important day, big with the fate</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of Cato and of Rome&mdash;&mdash;Our father's death</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would fill up all the guilt of civil war,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And close the scene of blood. Already C&aelig;sar</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Has ravaged more than half the globe, and sees</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Mankind grown thin by his destructive sword:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Should he go farther, numbers would be wanting</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To form new battles, and support his crimes.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ye gods, what havoc does ambition make</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Among your works!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Thy steady temper, Portius,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and C&aelig;sar,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In the calm lights of mild philosophy;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'm tortured e'en to madness, when I think</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">On the proud victor&mdash;ev'ry time he's named,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pharsalia rises to my view!&mdash;I see</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Th' insulting tyrant, prancing o'er the field,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Strew'd with Rome's citizens, and drench'd in slaughter;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His horse's hoofs wet with patrician blood!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Portius! is there not some chosen curse,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Some hidden thunder in the stores of Heav'n,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Believe me, Marcus, 'tis an impious greatness,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And mix'd with too much horror to be envied:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How does the lustre of our father's actions,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Through the dark cloud of ills that cover him,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Break out, and burn with more triumphant brightness!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His sufferings shine, and spread a glory round him;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Greatly unfortunate, he fights the cause</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of honour, virtue, liberty, and Rome.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His sword ne'er fell, but on the guilty head;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oppression, tyranny, and pow'r usurp'd,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Draw all the vengeance of his arm upon them.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Who knows not this? but what can Cato do</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Against a world, a base, degenerate world,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That courts the yoke, and bows the neck to C&aelig;sar?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pent up in Utica, he vainly forms</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A poor epitome of Roman greatness,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, cover'd with Numidian guards, directs</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A feeble army, and an empty senate,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Remnants of mighty battles fought in vain.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">By Heav'n, such virtue, join'd with such success,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Distracts my very soul! Our father's fortune</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would almost tempt us to renounce his precepts.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Remember what our father oft has told us:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The ways of Heav'n are dark and intricate,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Puzzled in mazes, and perplex'd with errors;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our understanding traces them in vain,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nor sees with how much art the windings run,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nor where the regular confusion ends.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> These are suggestions of a mind at ease:&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Portius! didst thou taste but half the griefs</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That wring my soul, thou couldst not talk thus coldly.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Passion unpitied, and successless love,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Plant daggers in my heart, and aggravate</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My other griefs.&mdash;Were but my Lucia kind&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Thou see'st not that thy brother is thy rival;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But I must hide it, for I know thy temper.<span class="ind3">[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Behold young Juba, the Numidian prince,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With how much care he forms himself to glory,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And breaks the fierceness of his native temper,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To copy out our father's bright example.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He loves our sister Marcia, greatly loves her;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His eyes, his looks, his actions, all betray it;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But still the smother'd fondness burns within him;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When most it swells, and labours for a vent,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The sense of honour, and desire of fame,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Drive the big passion back into his heart.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What! shall an African, shall Juba's heir,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Reproach great Cato's son, and show the world</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A virtue wanting in a Roman soul?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Portius, no more! your words leave stings behind them.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whene'er did Juba, or did Portius, show</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A virtue that has cast me at a distance,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And thrown me out in the pursuits of honour?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Marcus, I know thy gen'rous temper well;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fling but the appearance of dishonour on it,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">It straight takes fire, and mounts into a blaze.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> A brother's suff'rings claim a brother's pity.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Heav'n knows, I pity thee&mdash;&mdash;Behold my eyes,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ev'n whilst I speak&mdash;Do they not swim in tears?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Were but my heart as naked to thy view,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcus would see it bleed in his behalf.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Why then dost treat me with rebukes, instead</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of kind condoling cares, and friendly sorrow?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Oh, Marcus! did I know the way to ease</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy troubled heart, and mitigate thy pains,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcus, believe me, I could die to do it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Thou best of brothers, and thou best of friends!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pardon a weak distemper'd soul, that swells</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With sudden gusts, and sinks as soon in calms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The sport of passions. But Sempronius comes:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He must not find this softness hanging on me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcus</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Sempronius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Conspiracies no sooner should be form'd</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Than executed. What means Portius here?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I like not that cold youth. I must dissemble,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And speak a language foreign to my heart.<span class="ind3">[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Good-morrow, Portius; let us once embrace,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Once more embrace, while yet we both are free.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To-morrow, should we thus express our friendship,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Each might receive a slave into his arms;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This sun, perhaps, this morning sun's the last</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That e'er shall rise on Roman liberty.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> My father has this morning call'd together</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To this poor hall, his little Roman senate,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(The leavings of Pharsalia) to consult</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If he can yet oppose the mighty torrent</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That bears down Rome and all her gods before it,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or must at length give up the world to C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Not all the pomp and majesty of Rome</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Can raise her senate more than Cato's presence.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His virtues render our assembly awful,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">They strike with something like religious fear,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And make even C&aelig;sar tremble at the head</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of armies flush'd with conquest. Oh, my Portius!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Could I but call that wond'rous man my father,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would but thy sister Marcia be propitious</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To thy friend's vows, I might be blest indeed!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Alas, Sempronius! wouldst thou talk of love</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To Marcia, whilst her father's life's in danger?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thou might'st as well court the pale, trembling vestal,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When she beholds the holy flame expiring.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> The more I see the wonders of thy race,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The more I'm charm'd. Thou must take heed, my Portius;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The world has all its eyes on Cato's son;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy father's merit sets thee up to view,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And shows thee in the fairest point of light,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To make thy virtues or thy faults conspicuous.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Well dost thou seem to check my ling'ring here</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In this important hour&mdash;I'll straight away,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And while the fathers of the senate meet</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In close debate, to weigh th' events of war,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'll animate the soldiers' drooping courage</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With love of freedom and contempt of life;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'll thunder in their ears their country's cause,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And try to rouse up all that's Roman in them.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis not in mortals to command success,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But we'll do more, Sempronius&mdash;we'll deserve it.<span class="ind2">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Curse on the stripling! how he apes his sire!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ambitiously sententious&mdash;But I wonder</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Old Syphax comes not; his Numidian genius</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is well disposed to mischief, were he prompt</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And eager on it; but he must be spurr'd,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And every moment quicken'd to the course.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato has used me ill; he has refused</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His daughter Marcia to my ardent vows.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Besides, his baffled arms, and ruin'd cause,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Are bars to my ambition. C&aelig;sar's favour,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That show'rs down greatness on his friends, will raise me</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To Rome's first honours. If I give up Cato,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I claim, in my reward, his captive daughter.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But Syphax comes&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Syphax</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Sempronius, all is ready;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I've sounded my Numidians, man by man,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And find them ripe for a revolt: they all</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Complain aloud of Cato's discipline,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And wait but the command to change their master.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Believe me, Syphax, there's no time to waste;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ev'n while we speak, our conqueror comes on,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And gathers ground upon us every moment.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Alas! thou know'st not C&aelig;sar's active soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With what a dreadful course he rushes on</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From war to war. In vain has nature form'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Mountains and oceans t'oppose his passage;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He bounds o'er all.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">One day more</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Will set the victor thund'ring at our gates.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But, tell me, hast thou yet drawn o'er young Juba?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That still would recommend thee more to C&aelig;sar,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And challenge better terms.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Alas! he's lost!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He's lost, Sempronius; all his thoughts are full</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of Cato's virtues&mdash;But I'll try once more</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(For every instant I expect him here)</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If yet I can subdue those stubborn principles</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of faith and honour, and I know not what,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That have corrupted his Numidian temper,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And struck th' infection into all his soul.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Be sure to press upon him every motive.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Juba's surrender, since his father's death,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would give up Afric into C&aelig;sar's hands,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And make him lord of half the burning zone.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> But is it true, Sempronius, that your senate</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is call'd together? Gods! thou must be cautious;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato has piercing eyes, and will discern</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our frauds, unless they're cover'd thick with art.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Let me alone, good Syphax, I'll conceal</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My thoughts in passion ('tis the surest way);</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'll bellow out for Rome, and for my country,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And mouth at C&aelig;sar, till I shake the senate.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Your cold hypocrisy's a stale device,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A worn-out trick: wouldst thou be thought in earnest,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Clothe thy feign'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> In troth, thou'rt able to instruct grey hairs,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And teach the wily African deceit.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Once more be sure to try thy skill on Juba.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Remember, Syphax, we must work in haste;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, think what anxious moments pass between</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Destruction hangs on every word we speak,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">On every thought, till the concluding stroke</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Determines all, and closes our design.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> I'll try if yet I can reduce to reason</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This headstrong youth, and make him spurn at Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The time is short; C&aelig;sar comes rushing on us&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But hold! young Juba sees me, and approaches!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, I joy to meet thee thus alone.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I have observed of late thy looks are fall'n,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">O'ercast with gloomy cares and discontent;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then tell me, Syphax, I conjure thee, tell me,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What are the thoughts that knit thy brow in frowns,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And turn thine eye thus coldly on thy prince?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When discontent sits heavy at my heart;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I have not yet so much the Roman in me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Why dost thou cast out such ungenerous terms</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Against the lords and sov'reigns of the world?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Dost thou not see mankind fall down before them,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And own the force of their superior virtue?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is there a nation in the wilds of Afric,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Amidst our barren rocks and burning sands,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That does not tremble at the Roman name?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Gods! where's the worth that sets these people up</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Above your own Numidia's tawny sons?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Do they with tougher sinews bend the bow?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or flies the javelin swifter to its mark,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Launch'd from the vigour of a Roman arm?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who like our active African instructs</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The fiery steed, and trains him to his hand?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or guides in troops th' embattled elephant</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Laden with war? These, these are arts, my prince,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In which your Zama does not stoop to Rome.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> These all are virtues of a meaner rank:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Perfections that are placed in bones and nerves.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A Roman soul is bent on higher views;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Turn up thy eyes to Cato;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">There may'st thou see to what a godlike height</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The Roman virtues lift up mortal man.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">While good, and just, and anxious for his friends,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He's still severely bent against himself;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And when his fortune sets before him all</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The pomps and pleasures that his soul can wish,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His rigid virtue will accept of none.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Believe me, prince, there's not an African</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That traverses our vast Numidian deserts</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In quest of prey, and lives upon his bow,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But better practises those boasted virtues.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chase;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Amidst the running stream he slakes his thirst;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Toils all the day, and, at the approach of night,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">On the first friendly bank he throws him down,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or rests his head upon a rock till morn;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then rises fresh, pursues his wonted game,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And if the following day he chance to find</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A new repast, or an untasted spring,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What virtues grow from ignorance and choice,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nor how the hero differs from the brute.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Where shall we find the man that bears affliction,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Great and majestic in his griefs, like Cato?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How does he rise against a load of woes,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And thank the gods that threw the weight upon him!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I think the Romans call it stoicism.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Had not your royal father thought so highly</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of Roman virtue, and of Cato's cause,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He had not fall'n by a slave's hand inglorious.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My father's name brings tears into my eyes.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> What wouldst thou have me do?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Abandon Cato.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, I should be more than twice an orphan</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">By such a loss.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Ay, there's the tie that binds you!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">You long to call him father. Marcia's charms</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Work in your heart unseen, and plead for Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">No wonder you are deaf to all I say.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, your zeal becomes importunate;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I've hitherto permitted it to rave,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And talk at large; but learn to keep it in,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lest it should take more freedom than I'll give it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Sir, your great father never used me thus.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Alas, he's dead! but can you e'er forget</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The tender sorrows,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And repeated blessings,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Which you drew from him in your last farewell?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The good old king, at parting, wrung my hand,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(His eyes brimful of tears) then sighing cried,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pr'ythee be careful of my son!&mdash;&mdash;His grief</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Swell'd up so high, he could not utter more.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Alas! thy story melts away my soul!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That best of fathers! how shall I discharge</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The gratitude and duty that I owe him?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> By laying up his counsels in your heart.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> His counsels bade me yield to thy direction:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then, Syphax, chide me in severest terms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Vent all thy passion, and I'll stand its shock,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Calm and unruffled as a summer sea,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Alas! my prince, I'd guide you to your safety.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I do believe thou wouldst; but tell me how?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Fly from the fate that follows C&aelig;sar's foes.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> My father scorn'd to do it.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> And therefore died.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Better to die ten thousand thousand deaths,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Than wound my honour.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Rather say, your love.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, I've promised to preserve my temper;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why wilt thou urge me to confess a flame</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I long have stifled, and would fain conceal?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Believe me, prince, though hard to conquer love,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis easy to divert and break its force.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Absence might cure it, or a second mistress</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Light up another flame, and put out this.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The glowing dames of Zama's royal court</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Have faces flush'd with more exalted charms;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The pale, unripen'd beauties of the north.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> 'Tis not a set of features, or complexion,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The tincture of a skin, that I admire:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The virtuous Marcia tow'rs above her sex:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">True, she is fair (Oh, how divinely fair!),</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But still the lovely maid improves her charms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And sanctity of manners; Cato's soul</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Shines out in every thing she acts or speaks,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">While winning mildness and attractive smiles</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Dwell in her looks, and, with becoming grace,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Soften the rigour of her father's virtue.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> How does your tongue grow wanton in her praise!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But on my knees, I beg you would consider&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Ha! Syphax, is't not she?&mdash;She moves this way;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My heart beats thick&mdash;I pr'ythee, Syphax, leave me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Ten thousand curses fasten on them both!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Now will the woman, with a single glance,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Undo what I've been lab'ring all this while.<span class="ind2">[<i>Exit</i></span> <span class="smallcaps">Syphax</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucia</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Hail, charming maid! How does thy beauty smooth</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The face of war, and make even horror smile!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">At sight of thee my heart shakes off its sorrows;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I feel a dawn of joy break in upon me,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And for a while forget th' approach of C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> I should be grieved, young prince, to think my presence</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Unbent your thoughts, and slacken'd them to arms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">While, warm with slaughter, our victorious foe</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Oh, Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And gentle wishes follow me to battle!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The thought will give new vigour to my arm,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And strength and weight to my descending sword,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And drive it in a tempest on the foe.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> My pray'rs and wishes always shall attend</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And men approved of by the gods and Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> That Juba may deserve thy pious cares,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'll gaze for ever on thy godlike father,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Transplanting one by one, into my life,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His bright perfections, till I shine like him.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> My father never, at a time like this,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would lay out his great soul in words, and waste</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Such precious moments.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Thy reproofs are just,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thou virtuous maid; I'll hasten to my troops,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And fire their languid souls with Cato's virtue.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If e'er I lead them to the field, when all</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The war shall stand ranged in its just array,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And dreadful pomp, then will I think on thee;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, lovely maid! then will I think on thee;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, in the shock of charging hosts, remember</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What glorious deeds should grace the man who hopes</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">For Marcia's love.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit</i></span> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Marcia, you're too severe;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How could you chide the young good-natured prince,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And drive him from you with so stern an air,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A prince that loves, and dotes on you to death?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> 'Tis therefore, Lucia, that I chide him from me;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His air, his voice, his looks, and honest soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Speak all so movingly in his behalf,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I dare not trust myself to hear him talk.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Why will you fight against so sweet a passion,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And steel your heart to such a world of charms?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> How, Lucia! wouldst thou have me sink away</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In pleasing dreams, and lose myself in love,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When ev'ry moment Cato's life's at stake?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar comes arm'd with terror and revenge,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And aims his thunder at my father's head.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Should not the sad occasion swallow up</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My other cares?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Why have I not this constancy of mind,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who have so many griefs to try its force?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sure, Nature form'd me of her softest mould,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Enfeebled all my soul with tender passions,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And sunk me ev'n below my own weak sex:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pity and love, by turns, oppress my heart.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Lucia, disburden all thy cares on me,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And let me share thy most retired distress.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Tell me, who raises up this conflict in thee?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> I need not blush to name them, when I tell thee</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">They're Marcia's brothers, and the sons of Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> They both behold thee with their sister's eyes,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And often have reveal'd their passion to me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But tell me, which of them is Lucia's choice?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Suppose 'twere Portius, could you blame my choice?&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Portius, thou hast stolen away my soul!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcus is over warm, his fond complaints</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Have so much earnestness and passion in them,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I hear him with a secret kind of horror,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And tremble at his vehemence of temper.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Alas, poor youth!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How will thy coldness raise</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Tempests and storms in his afflicted bosom!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I dread the consequence.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> You seem to plead</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Against your brother Portius.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Heav'n forbid.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Had Portius been the unsuccessful lover,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The same compassion would have fall'n on him.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Was ever virgin love distress'd like mine!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Portius himself oft falls in tears before me</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">As if he mourn'd his rival's ill success;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nor show which way it turns&mdash;so much he fears</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The sad effect that it will have on Marcus.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our sorrows,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But to the gods submit the event of things.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our lives, discolour'd with our present woes,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">May still grow bright, and smile with happier hours.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">So the pure limpid stream, when foul with stains</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of rushing torrents and descending rains,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Works itself clear, and, as it runs, refines,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Till, by degrees, the floating mirror shines;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Reflects each flower that on the border grows,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And a new heav'n in its fair bosom shows.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="minimal" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>ACT THE SECOND.</h3>
+<h5>SCENE I.</h5>
+
+<div class="center">
+ <p class="noindent">
+  <i>The Senate sitting.<br /><br />
+	Flourish.<br /><br />
+  Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cato</span>.
+ </p>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+ <table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="act_2">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Fathers, we once again are met in council;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar's approach has summon'd us together,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And Rome attends her fate from our resolves.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How shall we treat this bold aspiring man?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Success still follows him, and backs his crimes;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pharsalia gave him Rome, Egypt has since</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Received his yoke, and the whole Nile is C&aelig;sar's.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should decree</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What course to take. Our foe advances on us,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And envies us even Lybia's sultry deserts.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fathers, pronounce your thoughts: are they still fix'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To hold it out, and fight it to the last?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or are your hearts subdued at length, and wrought,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">By time and ill success, to a submission?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sempronius, speak.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Gods! can a Roman senate long debate</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Which of the two to chuse, slav'ry or death!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, at the head of our remaining troops,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Attack the foe, break through the thick array</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rise, and revenge her slaughter'd citizens,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or share their fate!&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To battle!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">True fortitude is seen in great exploits,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">All else is tow'ring phrensy and distraction.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Already have our quarrels fill'd the world</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With widows, and with orphans: Scythia mourns</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis time to sheathe the sword, and spare mankind.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Already have we shown our love to Rome,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Now let us show submission to the gods.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But free the commonwealth; when this end fails,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Arms have no further use. Our country's cause,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And bids us not delight in Roman blood,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Unprofitably shed. What men could do,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is done already: Heav'n and earth will witness,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Let us appear nor rash nor diffident;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Immod'rate valour swells into a fault;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And fear, admitted into public councils,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Betrays like treason. Let us shun them both.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Are grown thus desp'rate: we have bulwarks round us;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Within our walls are troops inured to toil</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In Afric's heat, and season'd to the sun;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ready to rise at its young prince's call.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">While there is hope, do not distrust the gods;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But wait, at least, till C&aelig;sar's near approach</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To sue for chains, and own a conqueror.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">No, let us draw her term of freedom out</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In its full length, and spin it to the last,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">So shall we gain still one day's liberty;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And let me perish, but in Cato's judgment,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcus</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Fathers, this moment, as I watch'd the gate,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lodged on my post, a herald is arrived</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From C&aelig;sar's camp, and with him comes old Decius,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The Roman knight; he carries in his looks</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Impatience, and demands to speak with Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> By your permission, fathers&mdash;bid him enter.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcus</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Decius was once my friend, but other prospects</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Have loosed those ties, and bound him fast to C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His message may determine our resolves.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Decius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> C&aelig;sar sends health to Cato&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Could he send it</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To Cato's slaughter'd friends, it would be welcome.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Are not your orders to address the senate?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> My business is with Cato. C&aelig;sar sees</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The straits to which you're driven; and, as he knows</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato's high worth, is anxious for your life.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> My life is grafted on the fate of Rome.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would he save Cato, bid him spare his country.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Tell your dictator this; and tell him, Cato</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Disdains a life which he has power to offer.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> Rome and her senators submit to C&aelig;sar;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Her gen'rals and her consuls are no more,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who check'd his conquests, and denied his triumphs.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why will not Cato be this C&aelig;sar's friend?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> These very reasons thou hast urged forbid it.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> Cato, I've orders to expostulate</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And reason with you, as from friend to friend:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Think on the storm that gathers o'er your head,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And threatens ev'ry hour to burst upon it;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Still may you stand high in your country's honours&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Do but comply, and make your peace with C&aelig;sar;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rome will rejoice, and cast its eyes on Cato,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">As on the second of mankind.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> No more;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I must not think of life on such conditions.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> C&aelig;sar is well acquainted with your virtues,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And therefore sets this value on your life.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let him but know the price of Cato's friendship,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And name your terms.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Bid him disband his legions,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Restore the commonwealth to liberty,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Submit his actions to the public censure,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And stand the judgment of a Roman senate.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> Cato, the world talks loudly of your wisdom&mdash;&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Nay, more, though Cato's voice was ne'er employ'd</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To clear the guilty, and to varnish crimes,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Myself will mount the rostrum in his favour,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And strive to gain his pardon from the people.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> A style like this becomes a conqueror.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Decius, a style like this becomes a Roman.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> What is a Roman, that is C&aelig;sar's foe?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Greater than C&aelig;sar: he's a friend to virtue.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> Consider, Cato, you're in Utica,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And at the head of your own little senate:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">You do not thunder in the capitol,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With all the mouths of Rome to second you.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Let him consider that, who drives us hither.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis C&aelig;sar's sword has made Rome's senate little,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And thinn'd its ranks. Alas! thy dazzled eye</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Beholds this man in a false glaring light,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Which conquest and success have thrown upon him;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Did'st thou but view him right, thou'dst see him black</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With murder, treason, sacrilege, and crimes</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That strike my soul with horror but to name them.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I know thou look'st on me as on a wretch</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Beset with ills, and cover'd with misfortunes;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But, by the gods I swear, millions of worlds</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Should never buy me to be like that C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> Does Cato send this answer back to C&aelig;sar,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">For all his gen'rous cares and proffer'd friendship?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> His cares for me are insolent and vain:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Presumptuous man! the gods take care of Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would C&aelig;sar show the greatness of his soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Bid him employ his care for these my friends,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And make good use of his ill-gotten pow'r,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">By sheltering men much better than himself.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Dec.</i> Your high, unconquer'd heart makes you forget</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">You are a man. You rush on your destruction.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But I have done. When I relate hereafter</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The tale of this unhappy embassy,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">All Rome will be in tears.<span class="ind2">[<i>Exit</i></span> <span class="smallcaps">Decius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Cato, we thank thee.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The mighty genius of immortal Rome</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Speaks in thy voice; thy soul breathes liberty.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar will shrink to hear the words thou utter'st,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And shudder in the midst of all his conquests.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> The senate owns its gratitude to Cato,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who with so great a soul consults its safety,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And guards our lives, while he neglects his own.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Sempronius gives no thanks on this account.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucius seems fond of life; but what is life?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis not to stalk about, and draw fresh air</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From time to time, or gaze upon the sun;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis to be free. When liberty is gone,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Life grows insipid.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Come; no more, Sempronius;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">All here are friends to Rome, and to each other.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let us not weaken still the weaker side</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">By our divisions.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Cato, my resentments</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Are sacrificed to Rome&mdash;I stand reproved.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Fathers, 'tis time you come to a resolve.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> Cato, we all go in to your opinion;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar's behaviour has convinced the senate</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">We ought to hold it out till terms arrive.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> We ought to hold it out till death; but, Cato,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My private voice is drown'd amidst the senate's.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Then let us rise, my friends, and strive to fill</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This little interval, this pause of life</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(While yet our liberty and fates are doubtful)</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With resolution, friendship, Roman bravery,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And all the virtues we can crowd into it;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That Heav'n may say, it ought to be prolong'd.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fathers, farewell&mdash;The young Numidian prince</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Comes forward, and expects to know our counsels.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smallcaps">Senators</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Juba, the Roman senate has resolved,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Till time give better prospects, still to keep</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The sword unsheathed, and turn its edge on C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> The resolution fits a Roman senate.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But, Cato, lend me for a while thy patience,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And condescend to hear a young man speak.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My father, when, some days before his death,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He order'd me to march for Utica,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(Alas! I thought not then his death so near!)</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Wept o'er me, press'd me in his aged arms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, as his griefs gave way, "My son," said he,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">"Whatever fortune shall befal thy father,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Be Cato's friend; he'll train thee up to great</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And virtuous deeds; do but observe him well,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thou'lt shun misfortunes, or thou'lt learn to bear them."</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Juba, thy father was a worthy prince,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And merited, alas! a better fate;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But Heav'n thought otherwise.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> My father's fate,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In spite of all the fortitude that shines</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Before my face, in Cato's great example,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Subdues my soul, and fills my eyes with tears.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> It is an honest sorrow, and becomes thee.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> My father drew respect from foreign climes:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The kings of Afric sought him for their friend;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Kings far remote, that rule, as fame reports,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Behind the hidden sources of the Nile,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In distant worlds, on t'other side the sun;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oft have their black ambassadors appear'd,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Loaden with gifts, and fill'd the courts of Zama.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> I am no stranger to thy father's greatness.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I would not boast the greatness of my father,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But point out new alliances to Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Had we not better leave this Utica,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To arm Numidia in our cause, and court</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Th' assistance of my father's powerful friends?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Did they know Cato, our remotest kings</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would pour embattled multitudes about him:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Their swarthy hosts would darken all our plains,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Doubling the native horror of the war,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And making death more grim.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> And canst thou think</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato will fly before the sword of C&aelig;sar?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Reduced, like Hannibal, to seek relief</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From court to court, and wander up and down</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A vagabond in Afric?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Cato, perhaps</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'm too officious; but my forward cares</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would fain preserve a life of so much value.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My heart is wounded, when I see such virtue</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Afflicted by the weight of such misfortunes.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Thy nobleness of soul obliges me.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But know, young prince, that valour soars above</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What the world calls misfortune and affliction.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">These are not ills; else would they never fall</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">On Heav'n's first fav'rites, and the best of men.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The gods, in bounty, work up storms about us,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That give mankind occasion to exert</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Virtues, which shun the day, and lie conceal'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In the smooth seasons and the calms of life.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I'm charm'd, whene'er thou talk'st; I pant for virtue,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And all my soul endeavours at perfection.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Dost thou love watchings, abstinence, and toil,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Success and fortune must thou learn from C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> The best good fortune that can fall on Juba,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The whole success at which my heart aspires,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Depends on Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> What does Juba say?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy words confound me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I would fain retract them.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Give them me back again: they aimed at nothing.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Tell me thy wish, young prince; make not my ear</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A stranger to thy thoughts.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Oh! they're extravagant;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Still let me hide them.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> What can Juba ask,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That Cato will refuse?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I fear to name it.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia&mdash;inherits all her father's virtues.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> What wouldst thou say?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Cato, thou hast a daughter.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Adieu, young prince; I would not hear a word</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Should lessen thee in my esteem. Remember,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The hand of fate is over us, and Heav'n</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Exacts severity from all our thoughts.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">It is not now a time to talk of aught</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But chains or conquest, liberty or death.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Syphax</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> How's this, my prince? What, cover'd with confusion?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">You look as if yon stern philosopher</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Had just now chid you.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, I'm undone!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> I know it well.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Cato thinks meanly of me.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> And so will all mankind.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I've open'd to him</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The weakness of my soul&mdash;my love for Marcia.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Cato's a proper person to intrust</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A love-tale with!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Oh, I could pierce my heart,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My foolish heart!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Alas, my prince, how are you changed of late!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I've known young Juba rise before the sun,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To beat the thicket where the tiger slept,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I've seen you,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then charge him close,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, stooping from your horse,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rivet the panting savage to the ground.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Pr'ythee, no more.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> How would the old king smile,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with gold,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoulders!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, this old man's talk, though honey flow'd</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In ev'ry word, would now lose all its sweetness.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato's displeased, and Marcia lost for ever.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Young prince, I yet could give you good advice;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia might still be yours.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> As how, dear Syphax?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Mounted on steeds unused to the restraint</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Give but the word, we snatch this damsel up,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And bear her off.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Can such dishonest thoughts</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rise up in man? Wouldst thou seduce my youth</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To do an act that would destroy mine honour?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Gods, I could tear my hair to hear you talk!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Honour's a fine imaginary notion,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That draws in raw and inexperienced men</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a ruffian?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> The boasted ancestors of these great men,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruffians.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">All under Heav'n, was founded on a rape;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Your Scipios, C&aelig;sars, Pompeys, and your Catos</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(The gods on earth), are all the spurious blood</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of violated maids, of ravish'd Sabines.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Indeed, my prince, you want to know the world.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> If knowledge of the world makes men perfidious,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">May Juba ever live in ignorance!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Go, go; you're young.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Gods, must I tamely bear</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This arrogance, unanswer'd! Thou'rt a traitor,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A false old traitor.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> I've gone too far.</span><span class="ind3">[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Cato shall know the baseness of thy soul.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> I must appease this storm, or perish in it.</span><span class="ind3">&nbsp;&nbsp;[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Young prince, behold these locks, that are grown white</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Beneath a helmet in your father's battles.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Those locks shall ne'er protect thy insolence.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Must one rash word, the infirmity of age,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Throw down the merit of my better years?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This the reward of a whole life of service!&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Curse on the boy! how steadily he hears me!<span class="ind3">[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, no more! I would not hear you talk.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Not hear me talk! what, when my faith to Juba,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My royal master's son, is call'd in question?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My prince may strike me dead, and I'll be dumb;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But whilst I live I must not hold my tongue,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And languish out old age in his displeasure.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Thou know'st the way too well into my heart.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I do believe thee loyal to thy prince.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> What greater instance can I give? I've offer'd</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To do an action which my soul abhors,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And gain you whom you love, at any price.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Was this thy motive? I have been too hasty.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> And 'tis for this my prince has call'd me traitor.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Sure thou mistakest; I did not call thee so.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> You did, indeed, my prince, you call'd me traitor.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nay, further, threatened you'd complain to Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of what, my prince, would you complain to Cato?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That Syphax loves you, and would sacrifice</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His life, nay, more, his honour, in your service?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, I know thou lovest me; but indeed</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy zeal for Juba carried thee too far.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The noble mind's distinguishing perfection,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That aids and strengthens Virtue where it meets her,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And imitates her actions where she is not;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">It ought not to be sported with.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Believe me, prince, you make old Syphax weep</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To hear you talk&mdash;but 'tis with tears of joy.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If e'er your father's crown adorn your brows,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Numidia will be blest by Cato's lectures.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, thy hand; we'll mutually forget</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The warmth of youth, and forwardness of age:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy person.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If e'er the sceptre come into my hand,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Why will you overwhelm my age with kindness?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My joys grow burdensome, I sha'n't support it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Syphax, farewell. I'll hence, and try to find</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Some blest occasion, that may set me right</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In Cato's thoughts. I'd rather have that man</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Approve my deeds, than worlds for my admirers.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Young men soon give, and soon forget, affronts;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Old age is slow in both&mdash;A false old traitor!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">These words, rash boy, may chance to cost thee dear.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My heart had still some foolish fondness for thee;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But hence, 'tis gone! I give it to the winds:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar, I'm wholly thine.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Sempronius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">All hail, Sempronius!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Well, Cato's senate is resolved to wait</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The fury of a siege, before it yields.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Syphax, we both were on the verge of fate;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucius declared for peace, and terms were offer'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To Cato, by a messenger from C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Should they submit, ere our designs are ripe,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">We both must perish in the common wreck,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lost in the general, undistinguish'd ruin.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> But how stands Cato?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Thou hast seen mount Atlas:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whilst storms and tempests thunder on its brows,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And oceans break their billows at its feet,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">It stands unmoved, and glories in its height;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Such is that haughty man; his tow'ring soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Midst all the shocks and injuries of fortune,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rises superior, and looks down on C&aelig;sar.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> But what's this messenger?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> I've practised with him,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And found a means to let the victor know</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But let me now examine in my turn;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is Juba fix'd?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Yes&mdash;but it is to Cato.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I've tried the force of every reason on him,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Soothed and caress'd; been angry, soothed again;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Laid safety, life, and interest in his sight;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But all are vain, he scorns them all for Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Come, 'tis no matter; we shall do without him.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He'll make a pretty figure in a triumph,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And serve to trip before the victor's chariot.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Syphax, I now may hope thou hast forsook</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> May she be thine as fast as thou wouldst have her.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Syphax, I love that woman; though I curse</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Her and myself, yet, spite of me, I love her.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Make Cato sure, and give up Utica,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar will ne'er refuse thee such a trifle.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But are thy troops prepared for a revolt?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Does the sedition catch from man to man,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And run among the ranks?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> All, all is ready;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The factious leaders are our friends, that spread</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Murmurs and discontents among the soldiers;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">They count their toilsome marches, long fatigues,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Unusual fastings, and will hear no more</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This medley of philosophy and war.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Within an hour they'll storm the senate house.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Meanwhile I'll draw up my Numidian troops</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Within the square, to exercise their arms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, as I see occasion, favour thee.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I laugh, to see how your unshaken Cato</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Will look aghast, while unforeseen destruction</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pours in upon him thus from every side.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The helpless traveller, with wild surprise,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sees the dry desert all around him rise,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="minimal" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>ACT THE THIRD.</h3>
+<h5>SCENE I.</h5>
+
+<div class="center">
+ <p class="noindent">
+  <i>A Chamber.<br /><br />
+  Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcus</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>.
+ </p>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+ <table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="act_3_scene_1">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Thanks to my stars, I have not ranged about</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The wilds of life, ere I could find a friend;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nature first pointed out my Portius to me,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And early taught me, by her secret force,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To love thy person, ere I knew thy merit,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Till what was instinct, grew up into friendship.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Marcus, the friendships of the world are oft</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Confed'racies in vice, or leagues of pleasure;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ours has severest virtue for its basis,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And such a friendship ends not but with life.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Portius, thou know'st my soul in all its weakness;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then, pr'ythee, spare me on its tender side;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Indulge me but in love, my other passions</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Shall rise and fall by virtue's nicest rules.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> When love's well-timed, 'tis not a fault to love.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sink in the soft captivity together.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Alas, thou talk'st like one that never felt</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Th' impatient throbs and longings of a soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That pants and reaches after distant good!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A lover does not live by vulgar time;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Believe me, Portius, in my Lucia's absence</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And yet, when I behold the charming maid,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'm ten times more undone; while hope and fear,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And grief and rage, and love, rise up at once,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And with variety of pain distract me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> What can thy Portius do to give thee help?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Portius, thou oft enjoy'st the fair one's presence;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With all the strength and heat of eloquence</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fraternal love and friendship can inspire.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Tell her thy brother languishes to death,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And fades away, and withers in his bloom;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That he forgets his sleep, and loathes his food;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That youth, and health, and war, are joyless to him;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Describe his anxious days, and restless nights,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And all the torments that thou see'st me suffer.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Marcus, I beg thee give me not an office,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That suits with me so ill. Thou know'st my temper.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Wilt thou behold me sinking in my woes,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To raise me from amidst this plunge of sorrows?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Marcus, thou canst not ask what I'd refuse;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But here, believe me, I've a thousand reasons&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> I know thou'lt say my passion's out of season,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That Cato's great example and misfortunes</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Should both conspire to drive it from my thoughts.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But what's all this to one that loves like me?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">O Portius, Portius, from my soul I wish</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thou did'st but know thyself what 'tis to love!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then wouldst thou pity and assist thy brother.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> What should I do? If I disclose my passion,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our friendship's at an end: if I conceal it,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The world will call me false to a friend and brother.<span class="ind2">[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> But see, where Lucia, at her wonted hour,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Amid the cool of yon high marble arch,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Enjoys the noon-day breeze! Observe her, Portius;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That face, that shape, those eyes, that heav'n of beauty!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Observe her well, and blame me if thou canst.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> She sees us, and advances&mdash;&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><i>Marc.</i> I'll withdraw,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And leave you for a while. Remember, Portius,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucia</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Did not I see your brother Marcus here?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why did he fly the place, and shun my presence?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Oh, Lucia, language is too faint to show</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His rage of love; it preys upon his life;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He pines, he sickens, he despairs, he dies!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> How wilt thou guard thy honour, in the shock</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of love and friendship! Think betimes, my Portius,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Think how the nuptial tie, that might ensure</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our mutual bliss, would raise to such a height</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy brother's griefs, as might perhaps destroy him.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Alas, poor youth! What dost thou think, my Lucia?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His gen'rous, open, undesigning heart</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Has begg'd his rival to solicit for him!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then do not strike him dead with a denial.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> No, Portius, no; I see thy sister's tears,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In the pursuit of our ill-fated loves;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, Portius, here I swear, to Heav'n I swear,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To Heav'n, and all the powers that judge mankind,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Never to mix my plighted hands with thine,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">While such a cloud of mischief hangs upon us,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But to forget our loves, and drive thee out</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From all my thoughts&mdash;as far as I am able.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> What hast thou said? I'm thunderstruck&mdash;recall</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Those hasty words, or I am lost for ever.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Has not the vow already pass'd my lips?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The gods have heard it, and 'tis seal'd in heav'n.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">May all the vengeance that was ever pour'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">On perjured heads, o'erwhelm me if I break it!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Fix'd in astonishment, I gaze upon thee,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Like one just blasted by a stroke from heav'n,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who pants for breath and stiffens, yet alive,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In dreadful looks, a monument of wrath!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Think, Portius, think thou see'st thy dying brother</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Stabb'd at his heart, and all besmear'd with blood,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Storming at Heav'n and thee! Thy awful sire</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sternly demands the cause, the accursed cause,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That robs him of his son: poor Marcia trembles,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then tears her hair, and, frantic in her griefs,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Calls out on Lucia. What could Lucia answer,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> To my confusion and eternal grief,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I must approve the sentence that destroys me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Portius, no more; thy words shoot through my heart,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why are those tears of fondness in thy eyes?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why heaves thy heart? Why swells thy soul with sorrow?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">It softens me too much&mdash;Farewell, my Portius!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Farewell, though death is in the word,&mdash;for ever!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Stay, Lucia, stay! What dost thou say? For ever?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thou must not go; my soul still hovers o'er thee,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And can't get loose.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> If the firm Portius shake,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To hear of parting, think what Lucia suffers!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> 'Tis true, unruffled and serene, I've met</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The common accidents of life, but here</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Such an unlook'd-for storm of ills falls on me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">It beats down all my strength&mdash;I cannot bear it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">We must not part.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> What dost thou say? Not part!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Hast thou forgot the vow that I have made?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Are not there heavens, and gods, that thunder o'er us?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&mdash;But see, thy brother Marcus bends this way;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I sicken at the sight. Once more, farewell.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Farewell, and know, thou wrong'st me, if thou think'st</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ever was love or ever grief like mine.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit</i></span> <span class="smallcaps">Lucia</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcus</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Portius, what hopes? How stands she? am I doom'd</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To life or death?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> What wouldst thou have me say?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> What means this pensive posture? Thou appear'st</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Like one amazed and terrified.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> I've reason.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Thy downcast looks, and thy disorder'd thoughts,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Tell me my fate. I ask not the success</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My cause has found.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> I'm grieved I undertook it.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> What, does the barbarous maid insult my heart,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My aching heart, and triumph in my pains?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That I could cast her from my thoughts for ever!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Away! you're too suspicious in your griefs;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucia, though sworn never to think of love,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Compassionates your pains, and pities you.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Compassionates my pains, and pities me!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What is compassion, when 'tis void of love?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fool that I was, to choose so cold a friend</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To urge my cause!&mdash;Compassionates my pains!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pr'ythee what art, what rhet'ric didst thou use</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To gain this mighty boon?&mdash;She pities me!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To one that asks the warm returns of love,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Compassion's cruelty, 'tis scorn, 'tis death&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Marcus, no more; have I deserved this treatment?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> What have I said? Oh! Portius, Oh, forgive me!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A soul exasperated in ills, falls out</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With every thing&mdash;its friend, itself&mdash;but hah!<span class="ind3">[<i>Shout.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What means that shout, big with the sounds of war?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What new alarm?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> A second, louder yet,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Swells in the wind, and comes more full upon us.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marc.</i> Oh, for some glorious cause to fall in battle!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucia, thou hast undone me: thy disdain</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Has broke my heart; 'tis death must give me ease.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Quick let us hence. Who knows if Cato's life</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Stands sure? Oh, Marcus, I am warm'd; my heart</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h5>SCENE II.</h5>
+<div class="center"><p class="noindent"><i>Part of the Senate House.</i><br />
+<br /><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Sempronius</span>, <i>with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Leaders</span> <i>of the Mutiny</i>.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+ <table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="act_3_scene_2">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> At length the winds are raised, the storm blows high!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In all its fury, and direct it right,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Till it has spent itself on Cato's head.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Meanwhile, I'll herd among his friends, and seem</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">One of the number, that, whate'er arrive,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My friends and fellow soldiers may be safe.<span class="ind1">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>1 Lead.</i> We are all safe; Sempronius is our friend.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sempronius is as brave a man as Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But, hark, he enters. Bear up boldly to him;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This day will end our toils.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Sempronius</span>, <i>with</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cato</span>, <span class="smallcaps">Lucius</span>,<br />
+<span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcus</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Where are those bold, intrepid sons of war,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That greatly turn their backs upon the foe,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And to their general send a brave defiance?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Curse on their dastard souls, they stand astonish'd!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Aside.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Perfidious men! And will you thus dishonour</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Your past exploits, and sully all your wars?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why could not Cato fall</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Without your guilt! Behold, ungrateful men,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Behold my bosom naked to your swords,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And let the man that's injured strike the blow.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Which of you all suspects that he is wrong'd,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Am I distinguished from you but by toils,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Superior toils, and heavier weight of cares?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Painful pre-eminence!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Confusion to the villains! all is lost!</span><span class="ind3">[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Have you forgotten Lybia's burning waste,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Its barren rocks, parch'd earth, and hills of sand,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Its tainted air, and all its broods of poison?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who was the first to explore th' untrodden path,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When life was hazarded in ev'ry step?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or, fainting in the long laborious march,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When, on the banks of an unlook'd-for stream,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">You sunk the river with repeated draughts,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who was the last of all your host who thirsted?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Did not his temples glow</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In the same sultry winds and scorching heats?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Hence, worthless men! hence! and complain to C&aelig;sar,</span>&nbsp;&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">You could not undergo the toil of war,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nor bear the hardships that your leader bore.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucius.</i> See, Cato, see the unhappy men: they weep!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fear, and remorse, and sorrow for their crime,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Appear in ev'ry look, and plead for mercy.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Learn to be honest men; give up yon leaders,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And pardon shall descend on all the rest.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Cato, commit these wretches to my care;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">First let them each be broken on the rack,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Then, with what life remains, impaled, and left</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To writhe at leisure round the bloody stake;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">There let them hang, and taint the southern wind.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The partners of their crime will learn obedience.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Forbear, Sempronius!&mdash;see they suffer death,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But in their deaths remember they are men;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Strain not the laws, to make their tortures grievous.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucius, the base, degen'rate age requires</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Severity.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When by just vengeance guilty mortals perish,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The gods behold the punishment with pleasure,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And lay th' uplifted thunderbolt aside.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Cato, I execute thy will with pleasure.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Meanwhile, we'll sacrifice to liberty.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Remember, O my friends! the laws, the rights,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The gen'rous plan of power delivered down</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From age to age by your renown'd forefathers,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(So dearly bought, the price of so much blood:)</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, let it never perish in your hands!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But piously transmit it to your children.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Do thou, great liberty, inspire our souls,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And make our lives in thy possession happy,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or our deaths glorious in thy just defence.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cato</span>, <i>etc.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>1 Lead.</i> Sempronius, you have acted like yourself.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">One would have thought you had been half in earnest.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Villain, stand off; base, grov'ling, worthless wretches,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Mongrels in faction, poor faint-hearted traitors!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>1 Lead.</i> Nay, now, you carry it too far, Sempronius!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Know, villains, when such paltry slaves presume</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To mix in treason, if the plot succeeds,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">They're thrown neglected by; but if it fails,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">They're sure to die like dogs, as you shall do.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Here, take these factious monsters, drag them forth</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To sudden death.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>1 Lead.</i> Nay, since it comes to this&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Dispatch them quick, but first pluck out their tongues,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lest with their dying breath they sow sedition.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smallcaps">Guards</span>, <i>with their</i> <span class="smallcaps">Leaders</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Syphax</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Our first design, my friend, has proved abortive;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Still there remains an after-game to play;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My troops are mounted;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let but Sempronius head us in our flight,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">We'll force the gate where Marcus keeps his guard,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And hew down all that would oppose our passage.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A day will bring us into C&aelig;sar's camp.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Confusion! I have fail'd of half my purpose:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia, the charming Marcia's left behind!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> How! will Sempronius turn a woman's slave?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Think not thy friend can ever feel the soft</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Unmanly warmth and tenderness of love.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Syphax, I long to clasp that haughty maid,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And bend her stubborn virtue to my passion:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When I have gone thus far, I'd cast her off.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Well said! that's spoken like thyself, Sempronius!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What hinders, then, but that thou find her out,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And hurry her away by manly force?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> But how to gain admission? For access</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is given to none but Juba, and her brothers.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Syph.</i> Thou shalt have Juba's dress, and Juba's guards;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The doors will open, when Numidia's prince</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Seems to appear before the slaves that watch them.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Heavens, what a thought is there! Marcia's my own!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How will my bosom swell with anxious joy,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When I behold her struggling in my arms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With glowing beauty, and disorder'd charms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">While fear and anger, with alternate grace,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Pant in her breast, and vary in her face!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">So Pluto seized off Proserpine, convey'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To hell's tremendous gloom th' affrighted maid;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">There grimly smiled, pleased with the beauteous prize,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nor envied Jove his sunshine and his skies.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="minimal" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>ACT THE FOURTH.</h3>
+<h5>SCENE I.</h5>
+
+<div class="center">
+ <p class="noindent">
+  <i>A Chamber.<br /><br />
+  Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcia</span>.
+ </p>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+ <table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="act_4_scene_1">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Now, tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy soul,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If thou believest 'tis possible for woman</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To suffer greater ills than Lucia suffers?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might my big swol'n heart</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Vent all its griefs, and give a loose to sorrow,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia could answer thee in sighs, keep pace</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With all thy woes, and count out tear for tear.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> I know thou'rt doom'd alike to be beloved</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But which of these has power to charm like Portius?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Still, I must beg thee not to name Sempronius.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucia, I like not that loud, boist'rous man.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Juba, to all the bravery of a hero,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Adds softest love, and more than female sweetness;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Juba might make the proudest of our sex,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Any of womankind, but Marcia, happy.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> And why not Marcia? Come, you strive in vain</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To hide your thoughts from one who knows too well</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The inward glowings of a heart in love.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> While Cato lives, his daughter has no right</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To love or hate, but as his choice directs.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> But should this father give you to Sempronius?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> I dare not think he will: but if he should&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I hear the sound of feet! They march this way.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let us retire, and try if we can drown</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Each softer thought in sense of present danger:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When love once pleads admission to our hearts,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In spite of all the virtues we can boast,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The woman that deliberates is lost.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Sempronius</span>, <i>dressed like</i> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>, <i>with</i><br />
+<span class="smallcaps">Numidian Guards</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> The deer is lodged, I've track'd her to her covert.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How will the young Numidian rave to see</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His mistress lost! If aught could glad my soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Beyond the enjoyment of so bright a prize,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Twould be to torture that young, gay barbarian.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&mdash;But, hark! what noise! Death to my hopes! 'tis he,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> What do I see? Who's this that dares usurp</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The guards and habits of Numidia's prince?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> One that was born to scourge thy arrogance,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Presumptuous youth!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> What can this mean? Sempronius!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> My sword shall answer thee. Have at thy heart.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Nay then, beware thy own, proud, barbarous man.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<span class="smallcaps">Sempronius</span> <i>falls</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Sem.</i> Curse on my stars! Am I then doom'd to fall</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">By a boy's hand, disfigured in a vile</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Numidian dress, and for a worthless woman?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Gods, I'm distracted! this my close of life!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, for a peal of thunder, that would make</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Earth, sea, and air, and heav'n, and Cato tremble!<span class="ind2">[<i>Dies.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I'll hence to Cato,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That we may there at length unravel all</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This dark design, this mystery of fate.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit</i></span> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcia</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Sure 'twas the clash of swords; my troubled heart</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">It throbs with fear, and aches at ev'ry sound.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sake&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I die away with horror at the thought!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ha! a Numidian! Heav'n preserve the prince!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The face lies muffled up within the garment,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But ah! death to my sight! a diadem,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And royal robes! O gods! 'tis he, 'tis he!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Juba lies dead before us!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Now, Marcia, now, call up to thy assistance</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thou canst not put it to a greater trial.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Lucia, look there, and wonder at my patience;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Have I not cause to rave, and beat my breast,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To rend my heart with grief, and run distracted?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> What can I think, or say, to give thee comfort?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Talk not of comfort, 'tis for lighter ills:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Behold a sight that strikes all comfort dead.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>, <i>listening</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I will indulge my sorrows, and give way</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To all the pangs and fury of despair;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That man, that best of men, deserved it from me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> What do I hear? and was the false Sempronius</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That best of men? Oh, had I fall'n like him,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And could have been thus mourn'd, I had been happy.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> 'Tis not in fate to ease my tortured breast.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, he was all made up of love and charms!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whatever maid could wish, or man admire:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Delight of every eye; when he appear'd,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A secret pleasure gladden'd all that saw him;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But when he talk'd, the proudest Roman blush'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To hear his virtues, and old age grew wise.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Juba! Juba!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> What means that voice? Did she not call on Juba?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Why do I think on what he was? he's dead!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He's dead, and never knew how much I loved him!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucia, who knows but his poor, bleeding heart,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Amidst its agonies, remember'd Marcia,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And the last words he utter'd call'd me cruel!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Alas! he knew not, hapless youth, he knew not</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Where am I? Do I live? or am indeed</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What Marcia thinks? All is Elysium round me!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Ye dear remains of the most loved of men,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nor modesty nor virtue here forbid</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A last embrace, while thus&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> See, Marcia, see,</span><span class="ind3">[<i>Throwing himself before her.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The happy Juba lives! he lives to catch</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That dear embrace, and to return it too,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With mutual warmth, and eagerness of love.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> With pleasure and amaze I stand transported!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If thou art Juba, who lies there?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> A wretch,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Disguised like Juba on a cursed design.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I could not bear</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To leave thee in the neighbourhood of death,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But flew, in all the haste of love, to find thee;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I found thee weeping, and confess this once,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Am rapt with joy, to see my Marcia's tears.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> I've been surprised in an unguarded hour,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But must not go back; the love, that lay</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Half smother'd in my breast, has broke through all</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Its weak restraints, and burns in its full lustre.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I cannot, if I would, conceal it from thee.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> My joy, my best beloved, my only wish!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How shall I speak the transport of my soul!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Lucia, thy arm. Lead to my apartment.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh! prince! I blush to think what I have said,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But fate has wrested the confession from me;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And make the gods propitious to our love.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcia</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucia</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I am so blest, I fear 'tis all a dream.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fortune, thou now hast made amends for all</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy past unkindness: I absolve my stars.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What though Numidia add her conquer'd towns</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And provinces to swell the victor's triumph,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Juba will never at his fate repine:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let C&aelig;sar have the world, if Marcia's mine.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h5>SCENE II.</h5>
+<div class="center"><p class="noindent"><i>The Street.<br /><br />
+A March at a distance.<br />
+<br />Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cato</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucius</span>.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+ <table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="act_4_scene_2">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> I stand astonish'd! What, the bold Sempronius,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That still broke foremost through the crowd of patriots,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">As with a hurricane of zeal transported,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And virtuous even to madness&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Trust me, Lucius,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our civil discords have produced such crimes,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Such monstrous crimes, I am surprized at nothing.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&mdash;Oh Lucius, I am sick of this bad world!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The daylight and the sun grow painful to me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But see, where Portius comes: what means this haste?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why are thy looks thus changed?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> My heart is grieved,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I bring such news as will afflict my father.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Has C&aelig;sar shed more Roman blood?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Not so.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The traitor Syphax, as within the square</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He exercised his troops, the signal given,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Flew off at once with his Numidian horse</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To the south gate, where Marcus holds the watch;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I saw, and call'd to stop him, but in vain:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He toss'd his arm aloft, and proudly told me,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He would not stay, and perish, like Sempronius.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Perfidious man! But haste, my son, and see</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy brother Marcus acts a Roman's part.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit</i></span> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&mdash;Lucius, the torrent bears too hard upon me:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Justice gives way to force: the conquer'd world</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is C&aelig;sar's! Cato has no business in it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> While pride, oppression, and injustice reign,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The world will still demand her Cato's presence.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In pity to mankind submit to C&aelig;sar,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And reconcile thy mighty soul to life.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Would Lucius have me live to swell the number</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of C&aelig;sar's slaves, or by a base submission</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Give up the cause of Rome, and own a tyrant?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> The victor never will impose on Cato</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ungen'rous terms. His enemies confess</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The virtues of humanity are C&aelig;sar's.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Curse on his virtues! they've undone his country.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Such popular humanity is treason&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But see young Juba; the good youth appears,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Full of the guilt of his perfidious subjects!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> Alas, poor prince! his fate deserves compassion.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I blush, and am confounded to appear</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Before thy presence, Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> What's thy crime?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> I'm a Numidian.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> And a brave one, too. Thou hast a Roman soul.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Hast thou not heard of my false countrymen?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Alas, young prince!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Falsehood and fraud shoot up in ev'ry soil,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The product of all climes&mdash;Rome has its C&aelig;sars.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> 'Tis generous thus to comfort the distress'd.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> 'Tis just to give applause, where 'tis deserved:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy virtue, prince, has stood the test of fortune,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Like purest gold, that, tortured in the furnace,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Comes out more bright, and brings forth all its weight.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> What shall I answer thee?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'd rather gain</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy praise, O Cato! than Numidia's empire.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Misfortune on misfortune! grief on grief!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My brother Marcus&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Ha! what has he done?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Has he forsook his post? Has he given way?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Did he look tamely on, and let them pass?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Scarce had I left my father, but I met him</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Borne on the shields of his surviving soldiers,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Breathless and pale, and cover'd o'er with wounds.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Long, at the head of his few faithful friends,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He stood the shock of a whole host of foes,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Till, obstinately brave, and bent on death,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oppress'd with multitudes, he greatly fell.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> I'm satisfied.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Nor did he fall, before</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His sword had pierced thro' the false heart of Syphax.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Yonder he lies. I saw the hoary traitor</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Grin in the pangs of death, and bite the ground.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Thanks to the gods, my boy has done his duty.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&mdash;Portius, when I am dead, be sure you place</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">His urn near mine.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Long may they keep asunder!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> Oh, Cato, arm thy soul with all its patience;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">See where the corpse of thy dead son approaches!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The citizens and senators alarm'd,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Have gather'd round it, and attend it weeping.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><span class="smallcaps">Cato</span> <i>meeting the Corpse</i>.&mdash;<span class="smallcaps">Senators</span> <i>attending</i>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Welcome, my son! Here lay him down, my friends,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The bloody corse, and count those glorious wounds.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&mdash;How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who would not be that youth? What pity is it,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That we can die but once, to serve our country!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">&mdash;Why sits this sadness on your brows, my friends?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I should have blush'd, if Cato's house had stood</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Secure, and flourish'd in a civil war.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Portius, behold thy brother, and remember,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy life is not thy own when Rome demands it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Was ever man like this!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Alas, my friends,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why mourn you thus? let not a private loss</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Afflict your hearts. 'Tis Rome requires our tears,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The mistress of the world, the seat of empire,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The nurse of heroes, the delight of gods,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That humbled the proud tyrants of the earth,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And set the nations free; Rome is no more.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, liberty! Oh, virtue! Oh, my country!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Behold that upright man! Rome fills his eyes</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With tears, that flow'd not o'er his own dear son.<span class="ind2">[<i>Aside.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Whate'er the Roman virtue has subdued,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The sun's whole course, the day and year, are C&aelig;sar's:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">For him the self-devoted Decii died,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The Fabii fell, and the great Scipios conquer'd:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Ev'n Pompey fought for C&aelig;sar. Oh, my friends,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How is the toil of fate, the work of ages,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The Roman empire, fall'n! Oh, cursed ambition!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fall'n into C&aelig;sar's hands! Our great forefathers</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Had left him nought to conquer but his country.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> While Cato lives, C&aelig;sar will blush to see</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Mankind enslaved, and be ashamed of empire.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> C&aelig;sar ashamed! Has he not seen Pharsalia?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> 'Tis time thou save thyself and us.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Lose not a thought on me; I'm out of danger:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Heaven will not leave me in the victor's hand.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar shall never say, he conquer'd Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But oh, my friends! your safety fills my heart</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With anxious thoughts; a thousand secret terrors</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rise in my soul. How shall I save my friends?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis now, O C&aelig;sar, I begin to fear thee!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> C&aelig;sar has mercy, if we ask it of him.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Then ask it, I conjure you; let him know,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whate'er was done against him, Cato did it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Add, if you please, that I request of him,&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That I myself, with tears, request it of him,&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The virtue of my friends may pass unpunish'd.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Juba, my heart is troubled for thy sake.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Should I advise thee to regain Numidia,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or seek the conqueror?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> If I forsake thee</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whilst I have life, may Heaven abandon Juba!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Thy virtues, prince, if I foresee aright,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Will one day make thee great; at Rome, hereafter,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Twill be no crime to have been Cato's friend.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Portius, draw near: my son, thou oft hast seen</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy sire engaged in a corrupted state,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Wrestling with vice and faction: now thou see'st me</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Spent, overpower'd, despairing of success.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let me advise thee to retreat betimes</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To thy paternal seat, the Sabine field;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Where the great Censor toil'd with his own hands,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And all our frugal ancestors were bless'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In humble virtues, and a rural life;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">There live retired, pray for the peace of Rome;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Content thyself to be obscurely good.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The post of honour is a private station.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> I hope my father does not recommend</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A life to Portius that he scorns himself.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Farewell, my friends! If there be any of you</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who dare not trust the victor's clemency,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Know there are ships prepared, by my command,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That shall convey you to the wish'd-for port.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Is there aught else, my friends, I can do for you?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The conqueror draws near. Once more, farewell!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If e'er we meet hereafter, we shall meet</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In happier climes, and on a safer shore,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Where C&aelig;sar never shall approach us more.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Pointing to his dead son.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">There, the brave youth, with love of virtue fired,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who greatly in his country's cause expired,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Shall know he conquer'd. The firm patriot there,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who made the welfare of mankind his care,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Though still by faction, vice, and fortune crost,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Shall find the gen'rous labour was not lost.<span class="ind3">[<i>Exeunt.</i></span></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="minimal" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>ACT THE FIFTH.</h3>
+<h5>SCENE I.</h5>
+
+<div class="center">
+ <p class="noindent">
+  <i>A Chamber.</i><br /><br />
+  <span class="smallcaps">Cato</span> <i>solus, sitting in a thoughtful Posture;<br /> in
+his Hand, Plato's Book on the Immortality of the Soul.<br />
+A drawn Sword on the Table by him.</i>
+ </p>
+</div>
+<div class="center">
+ <table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="act_5_scene_1">
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> It must be so&mdash;Plato, thou reason'st well&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This longing after immortality?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Back on herself, and startles at destruction?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis Heav'n itself that points out an hereafter,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And intimates eternity to man.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Through what variety of untried being,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Through what new scenes and changes must we pass?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Here will I hold. If there's a Power above us</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">(And that there is, all Nature cries aloud</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Through all her works), He must delight in virtue;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And that which He delights in must be happy.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But when, or where?&mdash;this world was made for C&aelig;sar:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'm weary of conjectures&mdash;this must end them.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Laying his hand upon his sword.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thus am I doubly arm'd: my death and life,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My bane and antidote, are both before me.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This in a moment brings me to an end;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But this informs me I shall never die.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The soul, secured in her existence, smiles</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The stars shall fade away, the sun himself</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Unhurt amidst the war of elements,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What means this heaviness, that hangs upon me?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">This lethargy, that creeps through all my senses?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Nature, oppress'd and harass'd out with care,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Sinks down to rest. This once I'll favour her,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">That my awaken'd soul may take her flight,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Renew'd in all her strength, and fresh with life,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">An offering lit for Heav'n. Let guilt or fear</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Disturb man's rest, Cato knows neither of them,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Indiff'rent in his choice to sleep or die.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But, hah! who's this? my son! Why this intrusion?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Were not my orders that I would be private?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Why am I disobey'd?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Alas, my father!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What means this sword, this instrument of death?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let me convey it hence.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Rash youth, forbear!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Oh, let the pray'rs, th' entreaties of your friends,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Their tears, their common danger, wrest it from you!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Wouldst thou betray me? Wouldst thou give me up,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A slave, a captive, into C&aelig;sar's hands?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Retire, and learn obedience to a father,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or know, young man&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Look not thus sternly on me;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">You know, I'd rather die than disobey you.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> 'Tis well! again I'm master of myself.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Now, C&aelig;sar, let thy troops beset our gates,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And bar each avenue; thy gath'ring fleets</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">O'erspread the sea, and stop up ev'ry port;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato shall open to himself a passage,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And mock thy hopes.&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Oh, sir! forgive your son,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whose grief hangs heavy on him. Oh, my father!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">How am I sure it is not the last time</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I e'er shall call you so? Be not displeased,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, be not angry with me whilst I weep,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, in the anguish of my heart, beseech you</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To quit the dreadful purpose of your soul!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Thou hast been ever good and dutiful.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Embracing him.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Weep not, my son, all will be well again;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The righteous gods, whom I have sought to please,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Will succour Cato, and preserve his children.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Your words give comfort to my drooping heart.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Portius, thou may'st rely upon my conduct:</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy father will not act what misbecomes him.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But go, my son, and see if aught be wanting</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Among thy father's friends; see them embark'd,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And tell me if the winds and seas befriend them.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My soul is quite weigh'd down with care, and asks</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The soft refreshment of a moment's sleep.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> My thoughts are more at ease, my heart revives&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smallcaps">Cato</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Marcia</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Marcia! Oh, my sister, still there's hope</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Our father will not cast away a life</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">So needful to us all, and to his country.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He is retired to rest, and seems to cherish</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thoughts full of peace.&mdash;He has dispatch'd me hence</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With orders that bespeak a mind composed,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And studious for the safety of his friends.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia, take care, that none disturb his slumbers.<span class="ind2">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Oh, ye immortal powers, that guard the just,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Watch round his couch, and soften his repose,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">With easy dreams; remember all his virtues,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And show mankind that goodness is your care!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucia</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Where is your father, Marcia; where is Cato?</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Lucia, speak low, he is retired to rest.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Lucia, I feel a gentle dawning hope</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Rise in my soul&mdash;We shall be happy still.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In every view, in every thought, I tremble!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato is stern and awful as a god;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He knows not how to wink at human frailty,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or pardon weakness, that he never felt.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Though stern and awful to the foes of Rome,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Compassionate and gentle to his friends;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Fill'd with domestic tenderness, the best,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The kindest father; I have ever found him</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Easy and good, and bounteous to my wishes.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> 'Tis his consent alone can make us blest.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia, we both are equally involved</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In the same intricate, perplex'd distress.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The cruel hand of fate, that has destroy'd</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Thy brother Marcus, whom we both lament&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> And ever shall lament; unhappy youth!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Lucia.</i> Has set my soul at large, and now I stand</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Loose of my vow. But who knows Cato's thoughts?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who knows how yet he may dispose of Portius,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Or how he has determined of himself?</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Let him but live, commit the rest to Heav'n.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Lucius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> Sweet are the slumbers of the virtuous man!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Marcia, I have seen thy godlike father!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Some power invisible supports his soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And bears it up in all its wonted greatness.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A kind, refreshing sleep is fall'n upon him:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I saw him stretch'd at ease; his fancy lost</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">In pleasing dreams; as I drew near his couch,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He smiled, and cried, "C&aelig;sar, thou canst not hurt me."</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> His mind still labours with some dreadful thought.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Juba</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Jub.</i> Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from viewing</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The number, strength, and posture of our foes,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Who now encamp within a short hour's march;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">On the high point of yon bright western tower,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">We ken them from afar; the setting sun</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Plays on their shining arms and burnish'd helmets,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And covers all the field with gleams of fire.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father.</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">C&aelig;sar is still disposed to give us terms,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And waits at distance, till he hears from Cato.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Portius, thy looks speak somewhat of importance,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What tidings dost thou bring? Methinks, I see</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Unusual gladness sparkle in thy eyes.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> As I was hasting to the port, where now</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">My father's friends, impatient for a passage,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Accuse the ling'ring winds, a sail arrived</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From Pompey's son, who, through the realms of Spain,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Calls out for vengeance on his father's death,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And rouses the whole nation up to arms.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Were Cato at their head, once more might Rome</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Assert her rights, and claim her liberty.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But, hark! what means that groan?&mdash;&mdash;Oh, give me way,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And let me fly into my father's presence!<span class="ind3">[<i>Exit.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> Cato, amidst his slumbers, thinks on Rome,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And, in the wild disorder of his soul,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Mourns o'er his country.&mdash;Ha! a second groan&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Heav'n guard us all!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Alas, 'tis not the voice</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Of one who sleeps; 'tis agonizing pain&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis death is in that sound&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smallcaps">Portius</span>.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> Oh, sight of woe!</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Cato has fall'n upon his sword&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Luc.</i> Oh, Portius,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And let me guess the rest.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> I've raised him up,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And placed him in his chair; where pale and faint,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">He gasps for breath, and, as his life flows from him,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Demands to see his friends. His servants weeping,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Obsequious to his order, bear him hither!&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Marcia.</i> Oh, Heav'n! assist me in this dreadful hour,</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">To pay the last sad duties to my father!</td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="center"><span class="smallcaps">Cato</span> <i>brought on, in a Chair.</i></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Cato.</i> Here set me down&mdash;&mdash;</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Portius, come near me&mdash;Are my friends embark'd?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Can any thing be thought of for their service?</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Whilst I yet live, let me not live in vain&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, Lucius, art thou here?&mdash;Thou art too good&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Let this our friendship live between our children;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Marcia, my daughter&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Oh, bend me forward!&mdash;&mdash;Juba loves thee, Marcia&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A senator of Rome, while Rome survived,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Would not have match'd his daughter with a king&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">But C&aelig;sar's arms have thrown down all distinction&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I'm sick to death&mdash;&mdash;Oh, when shall I get loose</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From this vain world, th' abode of guilt and sorrow!</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And yet, methinks, a beam of light breaks in</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">On my departing soul&mdash;&mdash;Alas, I fear</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">I've been too hasty!&mdash;Oh, ye powers, that search</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The heart of man, and weigh his inmost thoughts,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">If I have done amiss, impute it not&mdash;&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">The best may err, but you are good, and&mdash;Oh!&mdash;<span class="ind3">[<i>Dies.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"><i>Por.</i> There fled the greatest soul that ever warm'd</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">A Roman breast:&mdash;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">From hence, let fierce contending nations know,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">What dire effects from civil discord flow:</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">'Tis this that shakes our country with alarms;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And gives up Rome a prey to Roman arms;</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">Produces fraud, and cruelty, and strife,</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">And robs the guilty world of Cato's life.<span class="ind4">[<i>Exeunt omnes.</i></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
+<tr><td><h4>THE END.</h4></td></tr>
+<tr><td><h6>PRINTED BY J. SMITH.</h6></td></tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Cato, by Joseph Addison, et al
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Cato
+       A Tragedy, in Five Acts
+
+
+Author: Joseph Addison
+
+
+
+Release Date: March 10, 2010  [eBook #31592]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATO***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Delphine Lettau and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Canada Team (http://www.pgdpcanada.net)
+
+
+
+CATO;
+
+A Tragedy,
+IN FIVE ACTS,
+
+
+BY JOSEPH ADDISON, ESQ.
+
+
+AS PERFORMED AT THE
+THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN.
+
+
+PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS
+FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.
+
+WITH REMARKS
+BY MRS. INCHBALD.
+
+
+
+
+PARIS,
+PRINTED FOR BAUDRY,
+ENGLISH, ITALIAN, SPANISH, PORTUGUESE AND GERMAN
+LIBRARY, RUE DU COQ-SAINT-HONORE.
+
+1823.
+
+
+
+
+REMARKS.
+
+
+The author of this tragedy, to whose vigorous mind the English are
+indebted for their choicest moral works, came into the world with a
+frame so weak, that he was christened immediately on his birth, in
+consequence of the symptoms he gave of a speedy dissolution. The hand
+which reared him did a more than ordinary service to the age in which
+he lived, and to succeeding generations. Addison's pious writings,
+untainted by the rigour of superstition, have softened the harsh spirit
+of ancient religion, whilst they have confirmed all its principles.
+
+He was the son of the Reverend Launcelot Addison, Rector of Milston, in
+the county of Wilts, at which place he was born, on the 6th of May, 1672.
+
+After passing through some inferior schools, he was placed at the
+Charter-House; where he contracted that intimacy with Steele, which
+grew to a friendship honourable to them both, from its duration, and
+the instructions which their joint labour bestowed on mankind.
+
+At the age of fifteen, young Addison was entered at Queen's College,
+Oxford, where he applied himself so closely to study, that, in a few
+years, his Latin poetry gained him high reputation in both universities,
+and, at the age of twenty-two, he became known to the nation at large by
+his English compositions.
+
+He was now pressed by his father to take holy orders; which,
+notwithstanding his sedate turn of mind, and his habits of piety, he
+positively refused. Mr. Tickell has alleged, that it was Addison's
+extreme modesty, a constitutional timidity, which made him resolve
+against being in the church--but he became a statesman; and, surely,
+that is a character which requires as much courage as a clergyman's,
+when the church is not under persecution.
+
+The first dramatic work from the pen of Addison, was an opera called
+"Rosamond," which having but indifferent success, he next assisted
+Steele in his play of "The Tender Husband;" for which the author
+surprised him by a dedication, openly to avow the obligation.
+
+These two friends now united their efforts in that well-known periodical
+work, "The Spectator;" by which they reformed the manners, as well as
+the morals, of their readers, and established their own literary fame.
+But, as the talents of Addison were superior to those of Steele, so are
+the papers in this work which were written by him esteemed above the
+rest;--and, as a mark of distinction, he had the laudable, or his friend
+Steele the honest pride, to affix a letter at the end of every such
+paper, by which it should be known for his. The Muse Clio furnished the
+four letters which have been thus used in "The Spectator," as Addison's
+honourable stamp of authorship.
+
+In the periodical work of "The Guardian" he had likewise some share;
+and, in 1713, he produced, what Dr. Johnson has called "the noblest work
+of Addison's genius"--"Cato."
+
+Notwithstanding the merit of this play, it is certain that it was
+indebted to the political circumstances of the times, for that
+enthusiastic applause with which it was received by the town.
+
+The joy or sorrow which an author is certain to experience upon every
+new production, is far more powerful in the heart of a dramatist than
+in that of any other writer. The sound of clamorous plaudits raises
+his spirits to a kind of ecstacy; whilst hisses and groans, from a
+dissatisfied audience, strike on the ear like a personal insult, avowing
+loud and public contempt for that in which he has been labouring to show
+his skill.
+
+Addison, with his timid nature, felt all the excruciating tortures of
+an ambitious, yet a fearful dramatist. He could not stay at home on the
+first night of "Cato;" for to be told, at once, that his tragedy was
+driven from the stage with derision, had been to his tremulous nerves
+like the dart of death. Not less peril might have befallen him as an
+auditor--he therefore was neither present on the first performance,
+nor absent from the theatre;--but, placing himself on a bench in the
+green-room, his body motionless, his soul in tumult, he kept by his side
+a friend, whom he dispatched every minute towards the stage, to bring
+him news of what was passing there. He thus secured, he conceived,
+progressive information of his fate, without the risk of hearing it
+from an enraged multitude. But such was the vehemence of applause,
+that shouts of admiration forced their way through the walls of the
+green-room, before his messenger could return with the gladsome tidings.
+Yet, not till the last sentence was spoken, and the curtain fairly
+dropped upon Cato and his weeping friends, did the author venture to
+move from the inanimate position in which he was fixed. This acute dread
+of failure now heightened the joy of success, and never was success
+more complete.
+
+"Cato," says Pope, in a letter to one of his friends, written at the
+time, "was not so much the wonder of Rome in his days, as he is of
+Britain in ours."
+
+The most fortunate of all occurrences took place, from the skill with
+which Addison drew this illustrious Roman--he gave him so much virtue,
+that both Whigs and Tories declared him of their party; and instead of
+any one, on either side, opposing his sentences in the cause of freedom,
+all strove which should the most honour him.
+
+Both auditors and readers, since that noted period, much as they may
+praise this tragedy, complain that it wants the very first requisite of
+a dramatic work--power to affect the passions. This criticism shows,
+to the full extent, how men were impassioned, at that time, by their
+political sentiments. They brought their passions with them to the
+playhouse, fired on the subject of the play; and all the poet had to
+do was to extend the flame.
+
+It is a charge against this drama, that the love scenes are all insipid;
+but it should be considered, that neither Cato nor his family, with
+strict propriety, could love any thing but their country.--As this is
+a love which women feel in a much less degree than men, and as bondage,
+not liberty, is woman's wish, "Cato," with all his patriotism, must ever
+be a dull entertainment to the female sex; and men of course receive but
+little pleasure from elegant amusements, of which women do not partake.
+
+The language and sentiments contained here are worthy of the great
+Addison and the great Cato; and if, as it is objected, the characters
+are too elevated to be natural, yet they accord with that idea of nature
+which imagination conceives of such remarkable personages.
+
+The author of "Cato" had planned other tragedies and celebrated works,
+which the subsequent part of his days did not give him leisure to
+execute; for, on the death of Queen Anne, the Lords Justices made him
+their Secretary: he was soon after appointed principal Secretary of
+State. These, and other public employments, prevented his completing
+farther literary designs. Or, it may be thought, that the loss of his
+domestic tranquillity, at this time, by his marriage with the Countess
+Dowager of Warwick, might possibly impede every future attempt for the
+favour of the Muses, to whom this, his wife, had not the slightest
+affinity. It is supposed she embittered, by arrogance and discontent,
+the remainder of this good man's life, which terminated on the 17th of
+June, 1719, in the 47th year of his age. He died at Holland House, near
+Kensington, and left an only child, a daughter, by the Countess.
+
+Lady Warwick had also a son by her former husband, a very fine,
+spirited, and accomplished youth, for whose welfare the dying Addison
+showed peculiar concern; for, in the extremity of his disorder, having
+dismissed his physicians, and with them all hopes of recovery, he
+desired that the young Lord Warwick might be called to his bedside. He
+came--but life was now fast departing from his revered father-in-law,
+and he uttered not a word. After an afflicting pause, the young man
+said, "Dear sir, you sent for me; I believe, and I hope, that you
+have some commands; I shall hold them most sacred." Grasping his hand,
+Addison softly replied, "I sent for you, that you might see in what
+peace a Christian can die." He spoke with difficulty, and instantly
+expired.
+
+It is to this circumstance Mr. Tickell refers in his lines on Addison's
+death, where he has this passage:
+
+ "He taught us how to live; and, oh! too high
+  A price for knowledge, taught us how to die."
+
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+
+ _Cato_,          Mr. Cooke.
+ _Portius_,       Mr. Siddons.
+ _Marcus_,        Mr. H. Johnston.
+ _Sempronius_,    Mr. Cory.
+ _Juba_,          Mr. Brunton.
+ _Syphax_,        Mr. Murray.
+ _Lucius_,        Mr. Claremont.
+ _Decius_,        Mr. Williams.
+
+ _Lucia_,         Miss Marriott.
+ _Marcia_,        Mrs. Litchfield.
+
+ _Mutineers, Guards, etc._
+
+
+ _SCENE--The Governor's Palace in Utica._
+
+
+
+
+CATO.
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE FIRST.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Hall._
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS _and_ MARCUS.
+
+_Por._ The dawn is overcast, the morning low'rs,
+And heavily in clouds brings on the day,
+The great, the important day, big with the fate
+Of Cato and of Rome----Our father's death
+Would fill up all the guilt of civil war,
+And close the scene of blood. Already Caesar
+Has ravaged more than half the globe, and sees
+Mankind grown thin by his destructive sword:
+Should he go farther, numbers would be wanting
+To form new battles, and support his crimes.
+Ye gods, what havoc does ambition make
+Among your works!
+
+_Marc._ Thy steady temper, Portius,
+Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Caesar,
+In the calm lights of mild philosophy;
+I'm tortured e'en to madness, when I think
+On the proud victor--ev'ry time he's named,
+Pharsalia rises to my view!--I see
+Th' insulting tyrant, prancing o'er the field,
+Strew'd with Rome's citizens, and drench'd in slaughter;
+His horse's hoofs wet with patrician blood!
+Oh, Portius! is there not some chosen curse,
+Some hidden thunder in the stores of Heav'n,
+Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man
+Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin?
+
+_Por._ Believe me, Marcus, 'tis an impious greatness,
+And mix'd with too much horror to be envied:
+How does the lustre of our father's actions,
+Through the dark cloud of ills that cover him,
+Break out, and burn with more triumphant brightness!
+His sufferings shine, and spread a glory round him;
+Greatly unfortunate, he fights the cause
+Of honour, virtue, liberty, and Rome.
+His sword ne'er fell, but on the guilty head;
+Oppression, tyranny, and pow'r usurp'd,
+Draw all the vengeance of his arm upon them.
+
+_Marc._ Who knows not this? but what can Cato do
+Against a world, a base, degenerate world,
+That courts the yoke, and bows the neck to Caesar?
+Pent up in Utica, he vainly forms
+A poor epitome of Roman greatness,
+And, cover'd with Numidian guards, directs
+A feeble army, and an empty senate,
+Remnants of mighty battles fought in vain.
+By Heav'n, such virtue, join'd with such success,
+Distracts my very soul! Our father's fortune
+Would almost tempt us to renounce his precepts.
+
+_Por._ Remember what our father oft has told us:
+The ways of Heav'n are dark and intricate,
+Puzzled in mazes, and perplex'd with errors;
+Our understanding traces them in vain,
+Lost and bewilder'd in the fruitless search;
+Nor sees with how much art the windings run,
+Nor where the regular confusion ends.
+
+_Marc._ These are suggestions of a mind at ease:--
+Oh, Portius! didst thou taste but half the griefs
+That wring my soul, thou couldst not talk thus coldly.
+Passion unpitied, and successless love,
+Plant daggers in my heart, and aggravate
+My other griefs.--Were but my Lucia kind----
+
+_Por._ Thou see'st not that thy brother is thy rival;
+But I must hide it, for I know thy temper.      [_Aside._
+Behold young Juba, the Numidian prince,
+With how much care he forms himself to glory,
+And breaks the fierceness of his native temper,
+To copy out our father's bright example.
+He loves our sister Marcia, greatly loves her;
+His eyes, his looks, his actions, all betray it;
+But still the smother'd fondness burns within him;
+When most it swells, and labours for a vent,
+The sense of honour, and desire of fame,
+Drive the big passion back into his heart.
+What! shall an African, shall Juba's heir,
+Reproach great Cato's son, and show the world
+A virtue wanting in a Roman soul?
+
+_Marc._ Portius, no more! your words leave stings behind them.
+Whene'er did Juba, or did Portius, show
+A virtue that has cast me at a distance,
+And thrown me out in the pursuits of honour?
+
+_Por._ Marcus, I know thy gen'rous temper well;
+Fling but the appearance of dishonour on it,
+It straight takes fire, and mounts into a blaze.
+
+_Marc._ A brother's suff'rings claim a brother's pity.
+
+_Por._ Heav'n knows, I pity thee----Behold my eyes,
+Ev'n whilst I speak--Do they not swim in tears?
+Were but my heart as naked to thy view,
+Marcus would see it bleed in his behalf.
+
+_Marc._ Why then dost treat me with rebukes, instead
+Of kind condoling cares, and friendly sorrow?
+
+_Por._ Oh, Marcus! did I know the way to ease
+Thy troubled heart, and mitigate thy pains,
+Marcus, believe me, I could die to do it.
+
+_Marc._ Thou best of brothers, and thou best of friends!
+Pardon a weak distemper'd soul, that swells
+With sudden gusts, and sinks as soon in calms,
+The sport of passions. But Sempronius comes:
+He must not find this softness hanging on me.      [_Exit_ MARCUS.
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS.
+
+_Sem._ Conspiracies no sooner should be form'd
+Than executed. What means Portius here?
+I like not that cold youth. I must dissemble,
+And speak a language foreign to my heart.      [_Aside._
+Good-morrow, Portius; let us once embrace,
+Once more embrace, while yet we both are free.
+To-morrow, should we thus express our friendship,
+Each might receive a slave into his arms;
+This sun, perhaps, this morning sun's the last
+That e'er shall rise on Roman liberty.
+
+_Por._ My father has this morning call'd together
+To this poor hall, his little Roman senate,
+(The leavings of Pharsalia) to consult
+If he can yet oppose the mighty torrent
+That bears down Rome and all her gods before it,
+Or must at length give up the world to Caesar.
+
+_Sem._ Not all the pomp and majesty of Rome
+Can raise her senate more than Cato's presence.
+His virtues render our assembly awful,
+They strike with something like religious fear,
+And make even Caesar tremble at the head
+Of armies flush'd with conquest. Oh, my Portius!
+Could I but call that wond'rous man my father,
+Would but thy sister Marcia be propitious
+To thy friend's vows, I might be blest indeed!
+
+_Por._ Alas, Sempronius! wouldst thou talk of love
+To Marcia, whilst her father's life's in danger?
+Thou might'st as well court the pale, trembling vestal,
+When she beholds the holy flame expiring.
+
+_Sem._ The more I see the wonders of thy race,
+The more I'm charm'd. Thou must take heed, my Portius;
+The world has all its eyes on Cato's son;
+Thy father's merit sets thee up to view,
+And shows thee in the fairest point of light,
+To make thy virtues or thy faults conspicuous.
+
+_Por._ Well dost thou seem to check my ling'ring here
+In this important hour--I'll straight away,
+And while the fathers of the senate meet
+In close debate, to weigh th' events of war,
+I'll animate the soldiers' drooping courage
+With love of freedom and contempt of life;
+I'll thunder in their ears their country's cause,
+And try to rouse up all that's Roman in them.
+'Tis not in mortals to command success,
+But we'll do more, Sempronius--we'll deserve it.      [_Exit._
+
+_Sem._ Curse on the stripling! how he apes his sire!
+Ambitiously sententious--But I wonder
+Old Syphax comes not; his Numidian genius
+Is well disposed to mischief, were he prompt
+And eager on it; but he must be spurr'd,
+And every moment quicken'd to the course.
+Cato has used me ill; he has refused
+His daughter Marcia to my ardent vows.
+Besides, his baffled arms, and ruin'd cause,
+Are bars to my ambition. Caesar's favour,
+That show'rs down greatness on his friends, will raise me
+To Rome's first honours. If I give up Cato,
+I claim, in my reward, his captive daughter.
+But Syphax comes----
+
+_Enter_ SYPHAX.
+
+_Syph._ Sempronius, all is ready;
+I've sounded my Numidians, man by man,
+And find them ripe for a revolt: they all
+Complain aloud of Cato's discipline,
+And wait but the command to change their master.
+
+_Sem._ Believe me, Syphax, there's no time to waste;
+Ev'n while we speak, our conqueror comes on,
+And gathers ground upon us every moment.
+Alas! thou know'st not Caesar's active soul,
+With what a dreadful course he rushes on
+From war to war. In vain has nature form'd
+Mountains and oceans t'oppose his passage;
+He bounds o'er all.
+One day more
+Will set the victor thund'ring at our gates.
+But, tell me, hast thou yet drawn o'er young Juba?
+That still would recommend thee more to Caesar,
+And challenge better terms.
+
+_Syph._ Alas! he's lost!
+He's lost, Sempronius; all his thoughts are full
+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 and honour, and I know not what,
+That have corrupted his Numidian temper,
+And struck th' infection into all his soul.
+
+_Sem._ Be sure to press upon him every motive.
+Juba's surrender, since his father's death,
+Would give up Afric into Caesar's hands,
+And make him lord of half the burning zone.
+
+_Syph._ But is it true, Sempronius, that your senate
+Is call'd together? Gods! thou must be cautious;
+Cato has piercing eyes, and will discern
+Our frauds, unless they're cover'd thick with art.
+
+_Sem._ Let me alone, good Syphax, I'll conceal
+My thoughts in passion ('tis the surest way);
+I'll bellow out for Rome, and for my country,
+And mouth at Caesar, till I shake the senate.
+Your cold hypocrisy's a stale device,
+A worn-out trick: wouldst thou be thought in earnest,
+Clothe thy feign'd zeal in rage, in fire, in fury!
+
+_Syph._ In troth, thou'rt able to instruct grey hairs,
+And teach the wily African deceit.
+
+_Sem._ Once more be sure to try thy skill on Juba.
+Remember, Syphax, we must work in haste;
+Oh, think what anxious moments pass between
+The birth of plots, and their last fatal periods!
+Oh, 'tis a dreadful interval of time,
+Fill'd up with horror all, and big with death!
+Destruction hangs on every word we speak,
+On every thought, till the concluding stroke
+Determines all, and closes our design.      [_Exit._
+
+_Syph._ I'll try if yet I can reduce to reason
+This headstrong youth, and make him spurn at Cato.
+The time is short; Caesar comes rushing on us--
+But hold! young Juba sees me, and approaches!
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, I joy to meet thee thus alone.
+I have observed of late thy looks are fall'n,
+O'ercast with gloomy cares and discontent;
+Then tell me, Syphax, I conjure thee, tell me,
+What are the thoughts that knit thy brow in frowns,
+And turn thine eye thus coldly on thy prince?
+
+_Syph._ 'Tis not my talent to conceal my thoughts,
+Or carry smiles and sunshine in my face,
+When discontent sits heavy at my heart;
+I have not yet so much the Roman in me.
+
+_Jub._ Why dost thou cast out such ungenerous terms
+Against the lords and sov'reigns of the world?
+Dost thou not see mankind fall down before them,
+And own the force of their superior virtue?
+Is there a nation in the wilds of Afric,
+Amidst our barren rocks and burning sands,
+That does not tremble at the Roman name?
+
+_Syph._ Gods! where's the worth that sets these people up
+Above your own Numidia's tawny sons?
+Do they with tougher sinews bend the bow?
+Or flies the javelin swifter to its mark,
+Launch'd from the vigour of a Roman arm?
+Who like our active African instructs
+The fiery steed, and trains him to his hand?
+Or guides in troops th' embattled elephant
+Laden with war? These, these are arts, my prince,
+In which your Zama does not stoop to Rome.
+
+_Jub._ These all are virtues of a meaner rank:
+Perfections that are placed in bones and nerves.
+A Roman soul is bent on higher views;
+Turn up thy eyes to Cato;
+There may'st thou see to what a godlike height
+The Roman virtues lift up mortal man.
+While good, and just, and anxious for his friends,
+He's still severely bent against himself;
+And when his fortune sets before him all
+The pomps and pleasures that his soul can wish,
+His rigid virtue will accept of none.
+
+_Syph._ Believe me, prince, there's not an African
+That traverses our vast Numidian deserts
+In quest of prey, and lives upon his bow,
+But better practises those boasted virtues.
+Coarse are his meals, the fortune of the chase;
+Amidst the running stream he slakes his thirst;
+Toils all the day, and, at the approach of night,
+On the first friendly bank he throws him down,
+Or rests his head upon a rock till morn;
+Then rises fresh, pursues his wonted game,
+And if the following day he chance to find
+A new repast, or an untasted spring,
+Blesses his stars, and thinks it luxury.
+
+_Jub._ Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern
+What virtues grow from ignorance and choice,
+Nor how the hero differs from the brute.
+Where shall we find the man that bears affliction,
+Great and majestic in his griefs, like Cato?
+How does he rise against a load of woes,
+And thank the gods that threw the weight upon him!
+
+_Syph._ 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of soul;
+I think the Romans call it stoicism.
+Had not your royal father thought so highly
+Of Roman virtue, and of Cato's cause,
+He had not fall'n by a slave's hand inglorious.
+
+_Jub._ Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh?
+My father's name brings tears into my eyes.
+
+_Syph._ Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills!
+
+_Jub._ What wouldst thou have me do?
+
+_Syph._ Abandon Cato.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, I should be more than twice an orphan
+By such a loss.
+
+_Syph._ Ay, there's the tie that binds you!
+You long to call him father. Marcia's charms
+Work in your heart unseen, and plead for Cato.
+No wonder you are deaf to all I say.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, your zeal becomes importunate;
+I've hitherto permitted it to rave,
+And talk at large; but learn to keep it in,
+Lest it should take more freedom than I'll give it.
+
+_Syph._ Sir, your great father never used me thus.
+Alas, he's dead! but can you e'er forget
+The tender sorrows,
+And repeated blessings,
+Which you drew from him in your last farewell?
+The good old king, at parting, wrung my hand,
+(His eyes brimful of tears) then sighing cried,
+Pr'ythee be careful of my son!----His grief
+Swell'd up so high, he could not utter more.
+
+_Jub._ Alas! thy story melts away my soul!
+That best of fathers! how shall I discharge
+The gratitude and duty that I owe him?
+
+_Syph._ By laying up his counsels in your heart.
+
+_Jub._ His counsels bade me yield to thy direction:
+Then, Syphax, chide me in severest terms,
+Vent all thy passion, and I'll stand its shock,
+Calm and unruffled as a summer sea,
+When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface.
+
+_Syph._ Alas! my prince, I'd guide you to your safety.
+
+_Jub._ I do believe thou wouldst; but tell me how?
+
+_Syph._ Fly from the fate that follows Caesar's foes.
+
+_Jub._ My father scorn'd to do it.
+
+_Syph._ And therefore died.
+
+_Jub._ Better to die ten thousand thousand deaths,
+Than wound my honour.
+
+_Syph._ Rather say, your love.
+
+_Jub._ Syphax, I've promised to preserve my temper;
+Why wilt thou urge me to confess a flame
+I long have stifled, and would fain conceal?
+
+_Syph._ Believe me, prince, though hard to conquer love,
+'Tis easy to divert and break its force.
+Absence might cure it, or a second mistress
+Light up another flame, and put out this.
+The glowing dames of Zama's royal court
+Have faces flush'd with more exalted charms;
+Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget
+The pale, unripen'd beauties of the north.
+
+_Jub._ 'Tis not a set of features, or complexion,
+The tincture of a skin, that I admire:
+Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
+Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
+The virtuous Marcia tow'rs above her sex:
+True, she is fair (Oh, how divinely fair!),
+But still the lovely maid improves her charms,
+With inward greatness, unaffected wisdom,
+And sanctity of manners; Cato's soul
+Shines out in every thing she acts or speaks,
+While winning mildness and attractive smiles
+Dwell in her looks, and, with becoming grace,
+Soften the rigour of her father's virtue.
+
+_Syph._ How does your tongue grow wanton in her praise!
+But on my knees, I beg you would consider--
+
+_Jub._ Ha! Syphax, is't not she?--She moves this way;
+And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter.
+My heart beats thick--I pr'ythee, Syphax, leave me.
+
+_Syph._ Ten thousand curses fasten on them both!
+Now will the woman, with a single glance,
+Undo what I've been lab'ring all this while.      [_Exit_ SYPHAX.
+
+_Enter_ MARCIA _and_ LUCIA.
+
+_Jub._ Hail, charming maid! How does thy beauty smooth
+The face of war, and make even horror smile!
+At sight of thee my heart shakes off its sorrows;
+I feel a dawn of joy break in upon me,
+And for a while forget th' approach of Caesar.
+
+_Marcia._ I should be grieved, young prince, to think my presence
+Unbent your thoughts, and slacken'd them to arms,
+While, warm with slaughter, our victorious foe
+Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field.
+
+_Jub._ Oh, Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns
+And gentle wishes follow me to battle!
+The thought will give new vigour to my arm,
+And strength and weight to my descending sword,
+And drive it in a tempest on the foe.
+
+_Marcia._ My pray'rs and wishes always shall attend
+The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue,
+And men approved of by the gods and Cato.
+
+_Jub._ That Juba may deserve thy pious cares,
+I'll gaze for ever on thy godlike father,
+Transplanting one by one, into my life,
+His bright perfections, till I shine like him.
+
+_Marcia._ My father never, at a time like this,
+Would lay out his great soul in words, and waste
+Such precious moments.
+
+_Jub._ Thy reproofs are just,
+Thou virtuous maid; I'll hasten to my troops,
+And fire their languid souls with Cato's virtue.
+If e'er I lead them to the field, when all
+The war shall stand ranged in its just array,
+And dreadful pomp, then will I think on thee;
+Oh, lovely maid! then will I think on thee;
+And, in the shock of charging hosts, remember
+What glorious deeds should grace the man who hopes
+For Marcia's love.      [_Exit_ JUBA.
+
+_Lucia._ Marcia, you're too severe;
+How could you chide the young good-natured prince,
+And drive him from you with so stern an air,
+A prince that loves, and dotes on you to death?
+
+_Marcia._ 'Tis therefore, Lucia, that I chide him from me;
+His air, his voice, his looks, and honest soul,
+Speak all so movingly in his behalf,
+I dare not trust myself to hear him talk.
+
+_Lucia._ Why will you fight against so sweet a passion,
+And steel your heart to such a world of charms?
+
+_Marcia._ How, Lucia! wouldst thou have me sink away
+In pleasing dreams, and lose myself in love,
+When ev'ry moment Cato's life's at stake?
+Caesar comes arm'd with terror and revenge,
+And aims his thunder at my father's head.
+Should not the sad occasion swallow up
+My other cares?
+
+_Lucia._ Why have I not this constancy of mind,
+Who have so many griefs to try its force?
+Sure, Nature form'd me of her softest mould,
+Enfeebled all my soul with tender passions,
+And sunk me ev'n below my own weak sex:
+Pity and love, by turns, oppress my heart.
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, disburden all thy cares on me,
+And let me share thy most retired distress.
+Tell me, who raises up this conflict in thee?
+
+_Lucia._ I need not blush to name them, when I tell thee
+They're Marcia's brothers, and the sons of Cato.
+
+_Marcia._ They both behold thee with their sister's eyes,
+And often have reveal'd their passion to me.
+But tell me, which of them is Lucia's choice?
+
+_Lucia._ Suppose 'twere Portius, could you blame my choice?--
+Oh, Portius, thou hast stolen away my soul!
+Marcus is over warm, his fond complaints
+Have so much earnestness and passion in them,
+I hear him with a secret kind of horror,
+And tremble at his vehemence of temper.
+
+_Marcia._ Alas, poor youth!
+How will thy coldness raise
+Tempests and storms in his afflicted bosom!
+I dread the consequence.
+
+_Lucia._ You seem to plead
+Against your brother Portius.
+
+_Marcia._ Heav'n forbid.
+Had Portius been the unsuccessful lover,
+The same compassion would have fall'n on him.
+
+_Lucia._ Was ever virgin love distress'd like mine!
+Portius himself oft falls in tears before me
+As if he mourn'd his rival's ill success;
+Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,
+Nor show which way it turns--so much he fears
+The sad effect that it will have on Marcus.
+
+_Marcia._ Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our sorrows,
+But to the gods submit the event of things.
+Our lives, discolour'd with our present woes,
+May still grow bright, and smile with happier hours.
+
+So the pure limpid stream, when foul with stains
+Of rushing torrents and descending rains,
+Works itself clear, and, as it runs, refines,
+Till, by degrees, the floating mirror shines;
+Reflects each flower that on the border grows,
+And a new heav'n in its fair bosom shows.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE SECOND.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_The Senate sitting._
+
+_Flourish._
+
+_Enter_ CATO.
+
+_Cato._ Fathers, we once again are met in council;
+Caesar's approach has summon'd us together,
+And Rome attends her fate from our resolves.
+How shall we treat this bold aspiring man?
+Success still follows him, and backs his crimes;
+Pharsalia gave him Rome, Egypt has since
+Received his yoke, and the whole Nile is Caesar's.
+Why should I mention Juba's overthrow,
+And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning sands
+Still smoke with blood. 'Tis time we should decree
+What course to take. Our foe advances on us,
+And envies us even Lybia's sultry deserts.
+Fathers, pronounce your thoughts: are they still fix'd
+To hold it out, and fight it to the last?
+Or are your hearts subdued at length, and wrought,
+By time and ill success, to a submission?
+Sempronius, speak.
+
+_Sem._ Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
+Which of the two to chuse, slav'ry or death!
+No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
+And, at the head of our remaining troops,
+Attack the foe, break through the thick array
+Of his throng'd legions, and charge home upon him.
+Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest,
+May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
+Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help;
+Rise, and revenge her slaughter'd citizens,
+Or share their fate!--
+To battle!
+Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow;
+And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us.
+
+_Cato._ Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal
+Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason;
+True fortitude is seen in great exploits,
+That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides;
+All else is tow'ring phrensy and distraction.
+Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion.
+
+_Luc._ My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace.
+Already have our quarrels fill'd the world
+With widows, and with orphans: Scythia mourns
+Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions
+Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome:
+'Tis time to sheathe the sword, and spare mankind.
+Already have we shown our love to Rome,
+Now let us show submission to the gods.
+We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves,
+But free the commonwealth; when this end fails,
+Arms have no further use. Our country's cause,
+That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands.
+And bids us not delight in Roman blood,
+Unprofitably shed. What men could do,
+Is done already: Heav'n and earth will witness,
+If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.
+
+_Cato._ Let us appear nor rash nor diffident;
+Immod'rate valour swells into a fault;
+And fear, admitted into public councils,
+Betrays like treason. Let us shun them both.
+Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs
+Are grown thus desp'rate: we have bulwarks round us;
+Within our walls are troops inured to toil
+In Afric's heat, and season'd to the sun;
+Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us,
+Ready to rise at its young prince's call.
+While there is hope, do not distrust the gods;
+But wait, at least, till Caesar's near approach
+Force us to yield. 'Twill never be too late
+To sue for chains, and own a conqueror.
+Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time?
+No, let us draw her term of freedom out
+In its full length, and spin it to the last,
+So shall we gain still one day's liberty;
+And let me perish, but in Cato's judgment,
+A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty,
+Is worth a whole eternity in bondage.
+
+_Enter_ MARCUS.
+
+_Marc._ Fathers, this moment, as I watch'd the gate,
+Lodged on my post, a herald is arrived
+From Caesar's camp, and with him comes old Decius,
+The Roman knight; he carries in his looks
+Impatience, and demands to speak with Cato.
+
+_Cato._ By your permission, fathers--bid him enter.     [_Exit_ MARCUS.
+Decius was once my friend, but other prospects
+Have loosed those ties, and bound him fast to Caesar.
+His message may determine our resolves.
+
+_Enter_ DECIUS.
+
+_Dec._ Caesar sends health to Cato--
+
+_Cato._ Could he send it
+To Cato's slaughter'd friends, it would be welcome.
+Are not your orders to address the senate?
+
+_Dec._ My business is with Cato. Caesar sees
+The straits to which you're driven; and, as he knows
+Cato's high worth, is anxious for your life.
+
+_Cato._ My life is grafted on the fate of Rome.
+Would he save Cato, bid him spare his country.
+Tell your dictator this; and tell him, Cato
+Disdains a life which he has power to offer.
+
+_Dec._ Rome and her senators submit to Caesar;
+Her gen'rals and her consuls are no more,
+Who check'd his conquests, and denied his triumphs.
+Why will not Cato be this Caesar's friend?
+
+_Cato._ These very reasons thou hast urged forbid it.
+
+_Dec._ Cato, I've 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 Caesar;
+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._ Caesar 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, though Cato's voice was ne'er employ'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 Caesar's foe?
+
+_Cato._ Greater than Caesar: he's a friend to virtue.
+
+_Dec._ Consider, Cato, you're in Utica,
+And at the head of your own little senate:
+You do not thunder in the capitol,
+With all the mouths of Rome to second you.
+
+_Cato._ Let him consider that, who drives us hither.
+'Tis Caesar'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 them.
+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
+Should never buy me to be like that Caesar.
+
+_Dec._ Does Cato send this answer back to Caesar,
+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.
+Would Caesar show 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 sheltering men much better than himself.
+
+_Dec._ Your high, unconquer'd heart makes you forget
+You are a man. You rush on your destruction.
+But I have done. When I relate hereafter
+The tale of this unhappy embassy,
+All Rome will be in tears.      [_Exit_ DECIUS.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, we thank thee.
+The mighty genius of immortal Rome
+Speaks in thy voice; thy soul breathes liberty.
+Caesar 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.
+
+_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.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, my resentments
+Are sacrificed to Rome--I stand reproved.
+
+_Cato._ Fathers, 'tis time you come to a resolve.
+
+_Luc._ Cato, we all go in to your opinion;
+Caesar's behaviour has convinced 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.     [_Exeunt_ SENATORS.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+Juba, the Roman senate has resolved,
+Till time give better prospects, still to keep
+The sword unsheathed, and turn its edge on Caesar.
+
+_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,
+"Whatever fortune shall befal 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 them."
+
+_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
+Th' 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.
+
+_Cato._ And canst thou think
+Cato will fly before the sword of Caesar?
+Reduced, 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
+Would 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, which 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 Caesar.
+
+_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?
+Thy words confound me.
+
+_Jub._ I would fain retract them.
+Give them me back again: they aimed 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 aught
+But chains or conquest, liberty or death.       [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ SYPHAX.
+
+_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!
+
+_Syph._ Alas, my prince, how are you changed 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.
+I've seen you,
+Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down,
+Then charge him close,
+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, would now lose all its sweetness.
+Cato's displeased, and Marcia lost for ever.
+
+_Syph._ Young prince, I yet could give you good advice;
+Marcia might still be yours.
+
+_Jub._ As how, dear Syphax?
+
+_Syph._ Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,
+Mounted on steeds unused to the restraint
+Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:
+Give but the word, we 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 inexperienced men
+To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.
+
+_Jub._ Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a ruffian?
+
+_Syph._ The boasted ancestors of these 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, Caesars, 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.
+
+_Jub._ If knowledge of the world makes men perfidious,
+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've gone too 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, the 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._ 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 mistakest; I did not call thee so.
+
+_Syph._ You did, indeed, my prince, you call'd me traitor.
+Nay, further, threatened 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 lovest 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._ 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 forwardness of age:
+Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy person.
+If e'er the sceptre come into my hand,
+Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom.
+
+_Syph._ Why will you overwhelm my age with kindness?
+My joys grow burdensome, I sha'n'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.      [_Exit._
+
+_Syph._ Young men soon give, and soon forget, affronts;
+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:
+Caesar, I'm wholly thine.
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS.
+
+All hail, Sempronius!
+Well, Cato's senate is resolved to wait
+The fury of a siege, before it yields.
+
+_Sem._ Syphax, we both were on the verge of fate;
+Lucius declared for peace, and terms were offer'd
+To Cato, by a messenger from Caesar.
+Should they submit, ere our designs are ripe,
+We both must perish in the common wreck,
+Lost in the general, 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 unmoved, 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 Caesar.
+
+_Syph._ But what's this messenger?
+
+_Sem._ I've practised with him,
+And found a means to let the victor know
+That Syphax and Sempronius are his friends.
+But let me now examine in my turn;
+Is Juba fix'd?
+
+_Syph._ Yes--but it is to Cato.
+I've tried the force of every reason on him,
+Soothed and caress'd; been angry, soothed again;
+Laid safety, life, and interest in his sight;
+But all are vain, he scorns them all for Cato.
+
+_Sem._ Come, 'tis no matter; we shall do without him.
+He'll make a pretty figure in a triumph,
+And serve to trip before the victor's chariot.
+Syphax, I now may hope thou hast forsook
+Thy Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine.
+
+_Syph._ May she be thine as fast as thou wouldst have her.
+
+_Sem._ Syphax, I love that woman; though I curse
+Her and myself, yet, spite of me, I love her.
+
+_Syph._ Make Cato sure, and give up Utica,
+Caesar will ne'er refuse thee such a trifle.
+But are thy troops prepared for a revolt?
+Does the sedition catch from man to man,
+And run among the ranks?
+
+_Sem._ All, all is ready;
+The factious leaders are our friends, that spread
+Murmurs and discontents among the soldiers;
+They count their toilsome marches, long fatigues,
+Unusual fastings, and will hear no more
+This medley of philosophy and war.
+Within an hour they'll storm the senate house.
+
+_Syph._ Meanwhile I'll draw up my Numidian troops
+Within the square, to exercise their arms,
+And, as I see occasion, favour thee.
+I laugh, to see how your unshaken Cato
+Will look aghast, while unforeseen destruction
+Pours in upon him thus from every side.
+So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend,
+Sudden th' impetuous hurricanes descend,
+Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play,
+Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away.
+The helpless traveller, with wild surprise,
+Sees the dry desert all around him rise,
+And, smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE THIRD.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Chamber._
+
+_Enter_ MARCUS _and_ PORTIUS.
+
+_Marc._ Thanks to my stars, I have not ranged about
+The wilds of life, ere I could find a friend;
+Nature first pointed out my Portius to me,
+And early taught me, by her secret force,
+To love thy person, ere I knew thy merit,
+Till what was instinct, grew up into friendship.
+
+_Por._ Marcus, the friendships of the world are oft
+Confed'racies in vice, or leagues of pleasure;
+Ours has severest virtue for its basis,
+And such a friendship ends not but with life.
+
+_Marc._ Portius, thou know'st my soul in all its weakness;
+Then, pr'ythee, spare me on its tender side;
+Indulge me but in love, my other passions
+Shall rise and fall by virtue's nicest rules.
+
+_Por._ When love's well-timed, 'tis not a fault to love.
+The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise,
+Sink in the soft captivity together.
+
+_Marc._ Alas, thou talk'st like one that never felt
+Th' impatient throbs and longings of a soul,
+That pants and reaches after distant good!
+A lover does not live by vulgar time;
+Believe me, Portius, in my Lucia's absence
+Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden;
+And yet, when I behold the charming maid,
+I'm ten times more undone; while hope and fear,
+And grief and rage, and love, rise up at once,
+And with variety of pain distract me.
+
+_Por._ What can thy Portius do to give thee help?
+
+_Marc._ Portius, thou oft enjoy'st the fair one's presence;
+Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her
+With all the strength and heat of eloquence
+Fraternal love and friendship can inspire.
+Tell her thy brother languishes to death,
+And fades away, and withers in his bloom;
+That he forgets his sleep, and loathes his food;
+That youth, and health, and war, are joyless to him;
+Describe his anxious days, and restless nights,
+And all the torments that thou see'st me suffer.
+
+_Por._ Marcus, I beg thee give me not an office,
+That suits with me so ill. Thou know'st my temper.
+
+_Marc._ Wilt thou behold me sinking in my woes,
+And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,
+To raise me from amidst this plunge of sorrows?
+
+_Por._ Marcus, thou canst not ask what I'd refuse;
+But here, believe me, I've a thousand reasons----
+
+_Marc._ I know thou'lt say my passion's out of season,
+That Cato's great example and misfortunes
+Should both conspire to drive it from my thoughts.
+But what's all this to one that loves like me?
+O Portius, Portius, from my soul I wish
+Thou did'st but know thyself what 'tis to love!
+Then wouldst thou pity and assist thy brother.
+
+_Por._ What should I do? If I disclose my passion,
+Our friendship's at an end: if I conceal it,
+The world will call me false to a friend and brother.      [_Aside._
+
+_Marc._ But see, where Lucia, at her wonted hour,
+Amid the cool of yon high marble arch,
+Enjoys the noon-day breeze! Observe her, Portius;
+That face, that shape, those eyes, that heav'n of beauty!
+Observe her well, and blame me if thou canst.
+
+_Por._ She sees us, and advances----
+
+_Marc._ I'll withdraw,
+And leave you for a while. Remember, Portius,
+Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue.      [_Exit._
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Did not I see your brother Marcus here?
+Why did he fly the place, and shun my presence?
+
+_Por._ Oh, Lucia, language is too faint to show
+His rage of love; it preys upon his life;
+He pines, he sickens, he despairs, he dies!
+
+_Lucia._ How wilt thou guard thy honour, in the shock
+Of love and friendship! Think betimes, my Portius,
+Think how the nuptial tie, that might ensure
+Our mutual bliss, would raise to such a height
+Thy brother's griefs, as might perhaps destroy him.
+
+_Por._ Alas, poor youth! What dost thou think, my Lucia?
+His gen'rous, open, undesigning heart
+Has begg'd his rival to solicit for him!
+Then do not strike him dead with a denial.
+
+_Lucia._ No, Portius, no; I see thy sister's tears,
+Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death,
+In the pursuit of our ill-fated loves;
+And, Portius, here I swear, to Heav'n I swear,
+To Heav'n, and all the powers that judge mankind,
+Never to mix my plighted hands with thine,
+While such a cloud of mischief hangs upon us,
+But to forget our loves, and drive thee out
+From all my thoughts--as far as I am able.
+
+_Por._ What hast thou said? I'm thunderstruck--recall
+Those hasty words, or I am lost for ever.
+
+_Lucia._ Has not the vow already pass'd my lips?
+The gods have heard it, and 'tis seal'd in heav'n.
+May all the vengeance that was ever pour'd
+On perjured heads, o'erwhelm me if I break it!
+
+_Por._ Fix'd in astonishment, I gaze upon thee,
+Like one just blasted by a stroke from heav'n,
+Who pants for breath and stiffens, yet alive,
+In dreadful looks, a monument of wrath!
+
+_Lucia._ Think, Portius, think thou see'st thy dying brother
+Stabb'd at his heart, and all besmear'd with blood,
+Storming at Heav'n and thee! Thy awful sire
+Sternly demands the cause, the accursed cause,
+That robs him of his son: poor Marcia trembles,
+Then tears her hair, and, frantic in her griefs,
+Calls out on Lucia. What could Lucia answer,
+Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow?
+
+_Por._ To my confusion and eternal grief,
+I must approve the sentence that destroys me.
+
+_Lucia._ Portius, no more; thy words shoot through my heart,
+Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love.
+Why are those tears of fondness in thy eyes?
+Why heaves thy heart? Why swells thy soul with sorrow?
+It softens me too much--Farewell, my Portius!
+Farewell, though death is in the word,--for ever!
+
+_Por._ Stay, Lucia, stay! What dost thou say? For ever?
+Thou must not go; my soul still hovers o'er thee,
+And can't get loose.
+
+_Lucia._ If the firm Portius shake,
+To hear of parting, think what Lucia suffers!
+
+_Por._ 'Tis true, unruffled and serene, I've met
+The common accidents of life, but here
+Such an unlook'd-for storm of ills falls on me.
+It beats down all my strength--I cannot bear it.
+We must not part.
+
+_Lucia._ What dost thou say? Not part!
+Hast thou forgot the vow that I have made?
+Are not there heavens, and gods, that thunder o'er us?
+--But see, thy brother Marcus bends this way;
+I sicken at the sight. Once more, farewell.
+Farewell, and know, thou wrong'st me, if thou think'st
+Ever was love or ever grief like mine.      [_Exit_ LUCIA.
+
+_Enter_ MARCUS.
+
+_Marc._ Portius, what hopes? How stands she? am I doom'd
+To life or death?
+
+_Por._ What wouldst thou have me say?
+
+_Marc._ What means this pensive posture? Thou appear'st
+Like one amazed and terrified.
+
+_Por._ I've reason.
+
+_Marc._ Thy downcast looks, and thy disorder'd thoughts,
+Tell me my fate. I ask not the success
+My cause has found.
+
+_Por._ I'm grieved I undertook it.
+
+_Marc._ What, does the barbarous maid insult my heart,
+My aching heart, and triumph in my pains?
+That I could cast her from my thoughts for ever!
+
+_Por._ Away! you're too suspicious in your griefs;
+Lucia, though sworn never to think of love,
+Compassionates your pains, and pities you.
+
+_Marc._ Compassionates my pains, and pities me!
+What is compassion, when 'tis void of love?
+Fool that I was, to choose so cold a friend
+To urge my cause!--Compassionates my pains!
+Pr'ythee what art, what rhet'ric didst thou use
+To gain this mighty boon?--She pities me!
+To one that asks the warm returns of love,
+Compassion's cruelty, 'tis scorn, 'tis death--
+
+_Por._ Marcus, no more; have I deserved this treatment?
+
+_Marc._ What have I said? Oh! Portius, Oh, forgive me!
+A soul exasperated in ills, falls out
+With every thing--its friend, itself--but hah!      [_Shout._
+What means that shout, big with the sounds of war?
+What new alarm?
+
+_Por._ A second, louder yet,
+Swells in the wind, and comes more full upon us.
+
+_Marc._ Oh, for some glorious cause to fall in battle!
+Lucia, thou hast undone me: thy disdain
+Has broke my heart; 'tis death must give me ease.
+
+_Por._ Quick let us hence. Who knows if Cato's life
+Stands sure? Oh, Marcus, I am warm'd; my heart
+Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_Part of the Senate House._
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS, _with_ LEADERS _of the Mutiny_.
+
+_Sem._ At length the winds are raised, the storm blows high!
+Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up
+In all its fury, and direct it right,
+Till it has spent itself on Cato's head.
+Meanwhile, I'll herd among his friends, and seem
+One of the number, that, whate'er arrive,
+My friends and fellow soldiers may be safe.      [_Exit._
+
+_1 Lead._ We are all safe; Sempronius is our friend.
+Sempronius is as brave a man as Cato.
+But, hark, he enters. Bear up boldly to him;
+Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast;
+This day will end our toils.
+Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS, _with_ CATO, LUCIUS, PORTIUS, _and_ MARCUS.
+
+_Cato._ Where are those bold, intrepid sons of war,
+That greatly turn their backs upon the foe,
+And to their general send a brave defiance?
+
+_Sem._ Curse on their dastard souls, they stand astonish'd!     [_Aside._
+
+_Cato._ Perfidious men! And will you thus dishonour
+Your past exploits, and sully all your wars?
+Why could not Cato fall
+Without your guilt! Behold, ungrateful men,
+Behold my bosom naked to your swords,
+And let the man that's injured strike the blow.
+Which of you all suspects that he is wrong'd,
+Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato?
+Am I distinguished from you but by toils,
+Superior toils, and heavier weight of cares?
+Painful pre-eminence!
+
+_Sem._ Confusion to the villains! all is lost!      [_Aside._
+
+_Cato._ Have you forgotten Lybia's burning waste,
+Its barren rocks, parch'd earth, and hills of sand,
+Its tainted air, and all its broods of poison?
+Who was the first to explore th' untrodden path,
+When life was hazarded in ev'ry step?
+Or, fainting in the long laborious march,
+When, on the banks of an unlook'd-for stream,
+You sunk the river with repeated draughts,
+Who was the last of all your host who thirsted?
+
+_Sem._ Did not his temples glow
+In the same sultry winds and scorching heats?
+
+_Cato._ Hence, worthless men! hence! and complain to Caesar,
+You could not undergo the toil of war,
+Nor bear the hardships that your leader bore.
+
+_Lucius._ See, Cato, see the unhappy men: they weep!
+Fear, and remorse, and sorrow for their crime,
+Appear in ev'ry look, and plead for mercy.
+
+_Cato._ Learn to be honest men; give up yon leaders,
+And pardon shall descend on all the rest.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, commit these wretches to my care;
+First let them each be broken on the rack,
+Then, with what life remains, impaled, and left
+To writhe at leisure round the bloody stake;
+There let them hang, and taint the southern wind.
+The partners of their crime will learn obedience.
+
+_Cato._ Forbear, Sempronius!--see they suffer death,
+But in their deaths remember they are men;
+Strain not the laws, to make their tortures grievous.
+Lucius, the base, degen'rate age requires
+Severity.
+When by just vengeance guilty mortals perish,
+The gods behold the punishment with pleasure,
+And lay th' uplifted thunderbolt aside.
+
+_Sem._ Cato, I execute thy will with pleasure.
+
+_Cato._ Meanwhile, we'll sacrifice to liberty.
+Remember, O my friends! the laws, the rights,
+The gen'rous plan of power delivered down
+From age to age by your renown'd forefathers,
+(So dearly bought, the price of so much blood:)
+Oh, let it never perish in your hands!
+But piously transmit it to your children.
+Do thou, great liberty, inspire our souls,
+And make our lives in thy possession happy,
+Or our deaths glorious in thy just defence.      [_Exeunt_ CATO, _etc._
+
+_1 Lead._ Sempronius, you have acted like yourself.
+One would have thought you had been half in earnest.
+
+_Sem._ Villain, stand off; base, grov'ling, worthless wretches,
+Mongrels in faction, poor faint-hearted traitors!
+
+_1 Lead._ Nay, now, you carry it too far, Sempronius!
+
+_Sem._ Know, villains, when such paltry slaves presume
+To mix in treason, if the plot succeeds,
+They're thrown neglected by; but if it fails,
+They're sure to die like dogs, as you shall do.
+Here, take these factious monsters, drag them forth
+To sudden death.
+
+_1 Lead._ Nay, since it comes to this--
+
+_Sem._ Dispatch them quick, but first pluck out their tongues,
+Lest with their dying breath they sow sedition.
+                      [_Exeunt_ GUARDS, _with their_ LEADERS.
+
+_Enter_ SYPHAX.
+
+_Syph._ Our first design, my friend, has proved abortive;
+Still there remains an after-game to play;
+My troops are mounted;
+Let but Sempronius head us in our flight,
+We'll force the gate where Marcus keeps his guard,
+And hew down all that would oppose our passage.
+A day will bring us into Caesar's camp.
+
+_Sem._ Confusion! I have fail'd of half my purpose:
+Marcia, the charming Marcia's left behind!
+
+_Syph._ How! will Sempronius turn a woman's slave?
+
+_Sem._ Think not thy friend can ever feel the soft
+Unmanly warmth and tenderness of love.
+Syphax, I long to clasp that haughty maid,
+And bend her stubborn virtue to my passion:
+When I have gone thus far, I'd cast her off.
+
+_Syph._ Well said! that's spoken like thyself, Sempronius!
+What hinders, then, but that thou find her out,
+And hurry her away by manly force?
+
+_Sem._ But how to gain admission? For access
+Is given to none but Juba, and her brothers.
+
+_Syph._ Thou shalt have Juba's dress, and Juba's guards;
+The doors will open, when Numidia's prince
+Seems to appear before the slaves that watch them.
+
+_Sem._ Heavens, what a thought is there! Marcia's my own!
+How will my bosom swell with anxious joy,
+When I behold her struggling in my arms,
+With glowing beauty, and disorder'd charms,
+While fear and anger, with alternate grace,
+Pant in her breast, and vary in her face!
+So Pluto seized off Proserpine, convey'd
+To hell's tremendous gloom th' affrighted maid;
+There grimly smiled, pleased with the beauteous prize,
+Nor envied Jove his sunshine and his skies.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE FOURTH.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Chamber._
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA _and_ MARCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Now, tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy soul,
+If thou believest 'tis possible for woman
+To suffer greater ills than Lucia suffers?
+
+_Marcia_ Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might my big swol'n heart
+Vent all its griefs, and give a loose to sorrow,
+Marcia could answer thee in sighs, keep pace
+With all thy woes, and count out tear for tear.
+
+_Lucia._ I know thou'rt doom'd alike to be beloved
+By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius:
+But which of these has power to charm like Portius?
+
+_Marcia._ Still, I must beg thee not to name Sempronius.
+Lucia, I like not that loud, boist'rous man.
+Juba, to all the bravery of a hero,
+Adds softest love, and more than female sweetness;
+Juba might make the proudest of our sex,
+Any of womankind, but Marcia, happy.
+
+_Lucia._ And why not Marcia? Come, you strive in vain
+To hide your thoughts from one who knows too well
+The inward glowings of a heart in love.
+
+_Marcia._ While Cato lives, his daughter has no right
+To love or hate, but as his choice directs.
+
+_Lucia._ But should this father give you to Sempronius?
+
+_Marcia._ I dare not think he will: but if he should--
+Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,
+Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?
+I hear the sound of feet! They march this way.
+Let us retire, and try if we can drown
+Each softer thought in sense of present danger:
+When love once pleads admission to our hearts,
+In spite of all the virtues we can boast,
+The woman that deliberates is lost.      [_Exeunt._
+
+_Enter_ SEMPRONIUS, _dressed like_ JUBA, _with_
+NUMIDIAN GUARDS.
+
+_Sem._ The deer is lodged, I've track'd her to her covert.
+How will the young Numidian rave to see
+His mistress lost! If aught could glad my soul,
+Beyond the enjoyment of so bright a prize,
+'Twould be to torture that young, gay barbarian.
+--But, hark! what noise! Death to my hopes! 'tis he,
+'Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left----
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ What do I see? Who's this that dares usurp
+The guards and habits of Numidia's prince?
+
+_Sem._ One that was born to scourge thy arrogance,
+Presumptuous youth!
+
+_Jub._ What can this mean? Sempronius!
+
+_Sem._ My sword shall answer thee. Have at thy heart.
+
+_Jub._ Nay then, beware thy own, proud, barbarous man.
+                                     [SEMPRONIUS _falls_.
+
+_Sem._ Curse on my stars! Am I then doom'd to fall
+By a boy's hand, disfigured in a vile
+Numidian dress, and for a worthless woman?
+Gods, I'm distracted! this my close of life!
+Oh, for a peal of thunder, that would make
+Earth, sea, and air, and heav'n, and Cato tremble!      [_Dies._
+
+_Jub._ I'll hence to Cato,
+That we may there at length unravel all
+This dark design, this mystery of fate.      [_Exit_ JUBA.
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA _and_ MARCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Sure 'twas the clash of swords; my troubled heart
+Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows,
+It throbs with fear, and aches at ev'ry sound.
+Oh, Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sake--
+I die away with horror at the thought!
+
+_Marcia._ See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder!
+Ha! a Numidian! Heav'n preserve the prince!
+The face lies muffled up within the garment,
+But ah! death to my sight! a diadem,
+And royal robes! O gods! 'tis he, 'tis he!
+Juba lies dead before us!
+
+_Lucia._ Now, Marcia, now, call up to thy assistance
+Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind;
+Thou canst not put it to a greater trial.
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, look there, and wonder at my patience;
+Have I not cause to rave, and beat my breast,
+To rend my heart with grief, and run distracted?
+
+_Lucia._ What can I think, or say, to give thee comfort?
+
+_Marcia._ Talk not of comfort, 'tis for lighter ills:
+Behold a sight that strikes all comfort dead.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA, _listening_.
+
+I will indulge my sorrows, and give way
+To all the pangs and fury of despair;
+That man, that best of men, deserved it from me.
+
+_Jub._ What do I hear? and was the false Sempronius
+That best of men? Oh, had I fall'n like him,
+And could have been thus mourn'd, I had been happy.
+
+_Marcia._ 'Tis not in fate to ease my tortured breast.
+Oh, he was all made up of love and charms!
+Whatever maid could wish, or man admire:
+Delight of every eye; when he appear'd,
+A secret pleasure gladden'd all that saw him;
+But when he talk'd, the proudest Roman blush'd
+To hear his virtues, and old age grew wise.
+Oh, Juba! Juba!
+
+_Jub._ What means that voice? Did she not call on Juba?
+
+_Marcia._ Why do I think on what he was? he's dead!
+He's dead, and never knew how much I loved him!
+Lucia, who knows but his poor, bleeding heart,
+Amidst its agonies, remember'd Marcia,
+And the last words he utter'd call'd me cruel!
+Alas! he knew not, hapless youth, he knew not
+Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba!
+
+_Jub._ Where am I? Do I live? or am indeed
+What Marcia thinks? All is Elysium round me!
+
+_Marcia._ Ye dear remains of the most loved of men,
+Nor modesty nor virtue here forbid
+A last embrace, while thus----
+
+_Jub._ See, Marcia, see,      [_Throwing himself before her._
+The happy Juba lives! he lives to catch
+That dear embrace, and to return it too,
+With mutual warmth, and eagerness of love.
+
+_Marcia._ With pleasure and amaze I stand transported!
+If thou art Juba, who lies there?
+
+_Jub._ A wretch,
+Disguised like Juba on a cursed design.
+I could not bear
+To leave thee in the neighbourhood of death,
+But flew, in all the haste of love, to find thee;
+I found thee weeping, and confess this once,
+Am rapt with joy, to see my Marcia's tears.
+
+_Marcia._ I've been surprised in an unguarded hour,
+But must not go back; the love, that lay
+Half smother'd in my breast, has broke through all
+Its weak restraints, and burns in its full lustre.
+I cannot, if I would, conceal it from thee.
+
+_Jub._ My joy, my best beloved, my only wish!
+How shall I speak the transport of my soul!
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, thy arm. Lead to my apartment.
+Oh! prince! I blush to think what I have said,
+But fate has wrested the confession from me;
+Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour.
+Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee,
+And make the gods propitious to our love.
+                    [_Exeunt_ MARCIA _and_ LUCIA.
+
+_Jub._ I am so blest, I fear 'tis all a dream.
+Fortune, thou now hast made amends for all
+Thy past unkindness: I absolve my stars.
+What though Numidia add her conquer'd towns
+And provinces to swell the victor's triumph,
+Juba will never at his fate repine:
+Let Caesar have the world, if Marcia's mine.      [_Exit._
+
+
+SCENE II.
+
+_The Street._
+
+_A March at a distance._
+
+_Enter_ CATO _and_ LUCIUS.
+
+_Luc._ I stand astonish'd! What, the bold Sempronius,
+That still broke foremost through the crowd of patriots,
+As with a hurricane of zeal transported,
+And virtuous even to madness--
+
+_Cato._ Trust me, Lucius,
+Our civil discords have produced such crimes,
+Such monstrous crimes, I am surprized at nothing.
+--Oh Lucius, I am sick of this bad world!
+The daylight and the sun grow painful to me.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+But see, where Portius comes: what means this haste?
+Why are thy looks thus changed?
+
+_Por._ My heart is grieved,
+I bring such news as will afflict my father.
+
+_Cato._ Has Caesar shed more Roman blood?
+
+_Por._ Not so.
+The traitor Syphax, as within the square
+He exercised his troops, the signal given,
+Flew off at once with his Numidian horse
+To the south gate, where Marcus holds the watch;
+I saw, and call'd to stop him, but in vain:
+He toss'd his arm aloft, and proudly told me,
+He would not stay, and perish, like Sempronius.
+
+_Cato._ Perfidious man! But haste, my son, and see
+Thy brother Marcus acts a Roman's part.      [_Exit_ PORTIUS.
+--Lucius, the torrent bears too hard upon me:
+Justice gives way to force: the conquer'd world
+Is Caesar's! Cato has no business in it.
+
+_Luc._ While pride, oppression, and injustice reign,
+The world will still demand her Cato's presence.
+In pity to mankind submit to Caesar,
+And reconcile thy mighty soul to life.
+
+_Cato._ Would Lucius have me live to swell the number
+Of Caesar's slaves, or by a base submission
+Give up the cause of Rome, and own a tyrant?
+
+_Luc._ The victor never will impose on Cato
+Ungen'rous terms. His enemies confess
+The virtues of humanity are Caesar's.
+
+_Cato._ Curse on his virtues! they've undone his country.
+Such popular humanity is treason----
+But see young Juba; the good youth appears,
+Full of the guilt of his perfidious subjects!
+
+_Luc._ Alas, poor prince! his fate deserves compassion.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ I blush, and am confounded to appear
+Before thy presence, Cato.
+
+_Cato._ What's thy crime?
+
+_Jub._ I'm a Numidian.
+
+_Cato._ And a brave one, too. Thou hast a Roman soul.
+
+_Jub._ Hast thou not heard of my false countrymen?
+
+_Cato._ Alas, young prince!
+Falsehood and fraud shoot up in ev'ry soil,
+The product of all climes--Rome has its Caesars.
+
+_Jub._ 'Tis generous thus to comfort the distress'd.
+
+_Cato._ 'Tis just to give applause, where 'tis deserved:
+Thy virtue, prince, has stood the test of fortune,
+Like purest gold, that, tortured in the furnace,
+Comes out more bright, and brings forth all its weight.
+
+_Jub._ What shall I answer thee?
+I'd rather gain
+Thy praise, O Cato! than Numidia's empire.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+_Por._ Misfortune on misfortune! grief on grief!
+My brother Marcus----
+
+_Cato._ Ha! what has he done?
+Has he forsook his post? Has he given way?
+Did he look tamely on, and let them pass?
+
+_Por._ Scarce had I left my father, but I met him
+Borne on the shields of his surviving soldiers,
+Breathless and pale, and cover'd o'er with wounds.
+Long, at the head of his few faithful friends,
+He stood the shock of a whole host of foes,
+Till, obstinately brave, and bent on death,
+Oppress'd with multitudes, he greatly fell.
+
+_Cato._ I'm satisfied.
+
+_Por._ Nor did he fall, before
+His sword had pierced thro' the false heart of Syphax.
+Yonder he lies. I saw the hoary traitor
+Grin in the pangs of death, and bite the ground.
+
+_Cato._ Thanks to the gods, my boy has done his duty.
+--Portius, when I am dead, be sure you place
+His urn near mine.
+
+_Por._ Long may they keep asunder!
+
+_Luc._ Oh, Cato, arm thy soul with all its patience;
+See where the corpse of thy dead son approaches!
+The citizens and senators alarm'd,
+Have gather'd round it, and attend it weeping.
+
+CATO _meeting the Corpse_.--SENATORS _attending_.
+
+_Cato._ Welcome, my son! Here lay him down, my friends,
+Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure
+The bloody corse, and count those glorious wounds.
+--How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue!
+Who would not be that youth? What pity is it,
+That we can die but once, to serve our country!
+--Why sits this sadness on your brows, my friends?
+I should have blush'd, if Cato's house had stood
+Secure, and flourish'd in a civil war.
+Portius, behold thy brother, and remember,
+Thy life is not thy own when Rome demands it.
+
+_Jub._ Was ever man like this!
+
+_Cato._ Alas, my friends,
+Why mourn you thus? let not a private loss
+Afflict your hearts. 'Tis Rome requires our tears,
+The mistress of the world, the seat of empire,
+The nurse of heroes, the delight of gods,
+That humbled the proud tyrants of the earth,
+And set the nations free; Rome is no more.
+Oh, liberty! Oh, virtue! Oh, my country!
+
+_Jub._ Behold that upright man! Rome fills his eyes
+With tears, that flow'd not o'er his own dear son.      [_Aside._
+
+_Cato._ Whate'er the Roman virtue has subdued,
+The sun's whole course, the day and year, are Caesar's:
+For him the self-devoted Decii died,
+The Fabii fell, and the great Scipios conquer'd:
+Ev'n Pompey fought for Caesar. Oh, my friends,
+How is the toil of fate, the work of ages,
+The Roman empire, fall'n! Oh, cursed ambition!
+Fall'n into Caesar's hands! Our great forefathers
+Had left him nought to conquer but his country.
+
+_Jub._ While Cato lives, Caesar will blush to see
+Mankind enslaved, and be ashamed of empire.
+
+_Cato._ Caesar ashamed! Has he not seen Pharsalia?
+
+_Luc._ 'Tis time thou save thyself and us.
+
+_Cato._ Lose not a thought on me; I'm out of danger:
+Heaven will not leave me in the victor's hand.
+Caesar shall never say, he conquer'd Cato.
+But oh, my friends! your safety fills my heart
+With anxious thoughts; a thousand secret terrors
+Rise in my soul. How shall I save my friends?
+'Tis now, O Caesar, I begin to fear thee!
+
+_Luc._ Caesar has mercy, if we ask it of him.
+
+_Cato._ Then ask it, I conjure you; let him know,
+Whate'er was done against him, Cato did it.
+Add, if you please, that I request of him,--
+That I myself, with tears, request it of him,--
+The virtue of my friends may pass unpunish'd.
+Juba, my heart is troubled for thy sake.
+Should I advise thee to regain Numidia,
+Or seek the conqueror?
+
+_Jub._ If I forsake thee
+Whilst I have life, may Heaven abandon Juba!
+
+_Cato._ Thy virtues, prince, if I foresee aright,
+Will one day make thee great; at Rome, hereafter,
+'Twill be no crime to have been Cato's friend.
+Portius, draw near: my son, thou oft hast seen
+Thy sire engaged in a corrupted state,
+Wrestling with vice and faction: now thou see'st me
+Spent, overpower'd, despairing of success.
+Let me advise thee to retreat betimes
+To thy paternal seat, the Sabine field;
+Where the great Censor toil'd with his own hands,
+And all our frugal ancestors were bless'd
+In humble virtues, and a rural life;
+There live retired, pray for the peace of Rome;
+Content thyself to be obscurely good.
+When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
+The post of honour is a private station.
+
+_Por._ I hope my father does not recommend
+A life to Portius that he scorns himself.
+
+_Cato._ Farewell, my friends! If there be any of you
+Who dare not trust the victor's clemency,
+Know there are ships prepared, by my command,
+That shall convey you to the wish'd-for port.
+Is there aught else, my friends, I can do for you?
+The conqueror draws near. Once more, farewell!
+If e'er we meet hereafter, we shall meet
+In happier climes, and on a safer shore,
+Where Caesar never shall approach us more.
+                          [_Pointing to his dead son._
+There, the brave youth, with love of virtue fired,
+Who greatly in his country's cause expired,
+Shall know he conquer'd. The firm patriot there,
+Who made the welfare of mankind his care,
+Though still by faction, vice, and fortune crost,
+Shall find the gen'rous labour was not lost.      [_Exeunt._
+
+
+
+
+ACT THE FIFTH.
+
+
+SCENE I.
+
+_A Chamber._
+
+CATO _solus, sitting in a thoughtful Posture; in
+his Hand, Plato's Book on the Immortality of
+the Soul. A drawn Sword on the Table by him._
+
+_Cato._ It must be so--Plato, thou reason'st well--
+Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
+This longing after immortality?
+Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror,
+Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
+Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
+'Tis the divinity that stirs within us;
+'Tis Heav'n itself that points out an hereafter,
+And intimates eternity to man.
+Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
+Through what variety of untried being,
+Through what new scenes and changes must we pass?
+The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me;
+But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it.
+Here will I hold. If there's a Power above us
+(And that there is, all Nature cries aloud
+Through all her works), He must delight in virtue;
+And that which He delights in must be happy.
+But when, or where?--this world was made for Caesar:
+I'm weary of conjectures--this must end them.
+                 [_Laying his hand upon his sword._
+Thus am I doubly arm'd: my death and life,
+My bane and antidote, are both before me.
+This in a moment brings me to an end;
+But this informs me I shall never die.
+The soul, secured in her existence, smiles
+At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
+The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
+Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,
+But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
+Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
+The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
+What means this heaviness, that hangs upon me?
+This lethargy, that creeps through all my senses?
+Nature, oppress'd and harass'd out with care,
+Sinks down to rest. This once I'll favour her,
+That my awaken'd soul may take her flight,
+Renew'd in all her strength, and fresh with life,
+An offering lit for Heav'n. Let guilt or fear
+Disturb man's rest, Cato knows neither of them,
+Indiff'rent in his choice to sleep or die.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+But, hah! who's this? my son! Why this intrusion?
+Were not my orders that I would be private?
+Why am I disobey'd?
+
+_Por._ Alas, my father!
+What means this sword, this instrument of death?
+Let me convey it hence.
+
+_Cato._ Rash youth, forbear!
+
+_Por._ Oh, let the pray'rs, th' entreaties of your friends,
+Their tears, their common danger, wrest it from you!
+
+_Cato._ Wouldst thou betray me? Wouldst thou give me up,
+A slave, a captive, into Caesar's hands?
+Retire, and learn obedience to a father,
+Or know, young man--
+
+_Por._ Look not thus sternly on me;
+You know, I'd rather die than disobey you.
+
+_Cato._ 'Tis well! again I'm master of myself.
+Now, Caesar, let thy troops beset our gates,
+And bar each avenue; thy gath'ring fleets
+O'erspread the sea, and stop up ev'ry port;
+Cato shall open to himself a passage,
+And mock thy hopes.----
+
+_Por._ Oh, sir! forgive your son,
+Whose grief hangs heavy on him. Oh, my father!
+How am I sure it is not the last time
+I e'er shall call you so? Be not displeased,
+Oh, be not angry with me whilst I weep,
+And, in the anguish of my heart, beseech you
+To quit the dreadful purpose of your soul!
+
+_Cato._ Thou hast been ever good and dutiful.
+                              [_Embracing him._
+Weep not, my son, all will be well again;
+The righteous gods, whom I have sought to please,
+Will succour Cato, and preserve his children.
+
+_Por._ Your words give comfort to my drooping heart.
+
+_Cato._ Portius, thou may'st rely upon my conduct:
+Thy father will not act what misbecomes him.
+But go, my son, and see if aught be wanting
+Among thy father's friends; see them embark'd,
+And tell me if the winds and seas befriend them.
+My soul is quite weigh'd down with care, and asks
+The soft refreshment of a moment's sleep.
+
+_Por._ My thoughts are more at ease, my heart revives--
+                                      [_Exit_ CATO.
+
+_Enter_ MARCIA.
+
+Oh, Marcia! Oh, my sister, still there's hope
+Our father will not cast away a life
+So needful to us all, and to his country.
+He is retired to rest, and seems to cherish
+Thoughts full of peace.--He has dispatch'd me hence
+With orders that bespeak a mind composed,
+And studious for the safety of his friends.
+Marcia, take care, that none disturb his slumbers.      [_Exit._
+
+_Marcia._ Oh, ye immortal powers, that guard the just,
+Watch round his couch, and soften his repose,
+Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul
+With easy dreams; remember all his virtues,
+And show mankind that goodness is your care!
+
+_Enter_ LUCIA.
+
+_Lucia._ Where is your father, Marcia; where is Cato?
+
+_Marcia._ Lucia, speak low, he is retired to rest.
+Lucia, I feel a gentle dawning hope
+Rise in my soul--We shall be happy still.
+
+_Lucia._ Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato!
+In every view, in every thought, I tremble!
+Cato is stern and awful as a god;
+He knows not how to wink at human frailty,
+Or pardon weakness, that he never felt.
+
+_Marcia._ Though stern and awful to the foes of Rome,
+He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild;
+Compassionate and gentle to his friends;
+Fill'd with domestic tenderness, the best,
+The kindest father; I have ever found him
+Easy and good, and bounteous to my wishes.
+
+_Lucia._ 'Tis his consent alone can make us blest.
+Marcia, we both are equally involved
+In the same intricate, perplex'd distress.
+The cruel hand of fate, that has destroy'd
+Thy brother Marcus, whom we both lament----
+
+_Marcia._ And ever shall lament; unhappy youth!
+
+_Lucia._ Has set my soul at large, and now I stand
+Loose of my vow. But who knows Cato's thoughts?
+Who knows how yet he may dispose of Portius,
+Or how he has determined of himself?
+
+_Marcia._ Let him but live, commit the rest to Heav'n.
+
+_Enter_ LUCIUS.
+
+_Luc._ Sweet are the slumbers of the virtuous man!
+Oh, Marcia, I have seen thy godlike father!
+Some power invisible supports his soul,
+And bears it up in all its wonted greatness.
+A kind, refreshing sleep is fall'n upon him:
+I saw him stretch'd at ease; his fancy lost
+In pleasing dreams; as I drew near his couch,
+He smiled, and cried, "Caesar, thou canst not hurt me."
+
+_Marcia._ His mind still labours with some dreadful thought.
+
+_Enter_ JUBA.
+
+_Jub._ Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from viewing
+The number, strength, and posture of our foes,
+Who now encamp within a short hour's march;
+On the high point of yon bright western tower,
+We ken them from afar; the setting sun
+Plays on their shining arms and burnish'd helmets,
+And covers all the field with gleams of fire.
+
+_Luc._ Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father.
+Caesar is still disposed to give us terms,
+And waits at distance, till he hears from Cato.
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+Portius, thy looks speak somewhat of importance,
+What tidings dost thou bring? Methinks, I see
+Unusual gladness sparkle in thy eyes.
+
+_Por._ As I was hasting to the port, where now
+My father's friends, impatient for a passage,
+Accuse the ling'ring winds, a sail arrived
+From Pompey's son, who, through the realms of Spain,
+Calls out for vengeance on his father's death,
+And rouses the whole nation up to arms.
+Were Cato at their head, once more might Rome
+Assert her rights, and claim her liberty.
+But, hark! what means that groan?----Oh, give me way,
+And let me fly into my father's presence!      [_Exit._
+
+_Luc._ Cato, amidst his slumbers, thinks on Rome,
+And, in the wild disorder of his soul,
+Mourns o'er his country.--Ha! a second groan--
+Heav'n guard us all!
+
+_Marcia._ Alas, 'tis not the voice
+Of one who sleeps; 'tis agonizing pain--
+'Tis death is in that sound----
+
+_Enter_ PORTIUS.
+
+_Por._ Oh, sight of woe!
+Oh, Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass--
+Cato has fall'n upon his sword----
+
+_Luc._ Oh, Portius,
+Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale,
+And let me guess the rest.
+
+_Por._ I've raised him up,
+And placed him in his chair; where pale and faint,
+He gasps for breath, and, as his life flows from him,
+Demands to see his friends. His servants weeping,
+Obsequious to his order, bear him hither!----
+
+_Marcia._ Oh, Heav'n! assist me in this dreadful hour,
+To pay the last sad duties to my father!
+
+CATO _brought on, in a Chair._
+
+_Cato._ Here set me down----
+Portius, come near me--Are my friends embark'd?
+Can any thing be thought of for their service?
+Whilst I yet live, let me not live in vain----
+Oh, Lucius, art thou here?--Thou art too good--
+Let this our friendship live between our children;
+Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia----
+Marcia, my daughter----
+Oh, bend me forward!----Juba loves thee, Marcia--
+A senator of Rome, while Rome survived,
+Would not have match'd his daughter with a king--
+But Caesar's arms have thrown down all distinction--
+I'm sick to death----Oh, when shall I get loose
+From this vain world, th' abode of guilt and sorrow!
+And yet, methinks, a beam of light breaks in
+On my departing soul----Alas, I fear
+I've been too hasty!--Oh, ye powers, that search
+The heart of man, and weigh his inmost thoughts,
+If I have done amiss, impute it not----
+The best may err, but you are good, and--Oh!--      [_Dies._
+
+_Por._ There fled the greatest soul that ever warm'd
+A Roman breast:--
+From hence, let fierce contending nations know,
+What dire effects from civil discord flow:
+'Tis this that shakes our country with alarms;
+And gives up Rome a prey to Roman arms;
+Produces fraud, and cruelty, and strife,
+And robs the guilty world of Cato's life.      [_Exeunt omnes._
+
+
+THE END.
+
+PRINTED BY J. SMITH.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CATO***
+
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