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




Enter JUBA. Juba, the Roman senate has resolved, Till time give better prospects, still to keep The sword unsheathed, and turn its edge on Cæsar.

Jub. The resolution fits a Roman senate.
But, Cato, lend me for a while thy patience,
And condescend to hear a young man speak.
My father, when, some days before his death,
He order'd me to march for Utica,
(Alas! I thought not then his death so near!)
Wept o'er me, press'd me in his aged arms,
And, as his griefs gave way, My son, said he,
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 thoul't learn to bear

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,

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

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 Cæsar!
Reduced, like Hannibal, to seek relief
From court to court, and wander up and down
A vagabond in Afric?

Juba. 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 favorites, 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 conceald
In the smooth seasons and the calmns of life.
Jub. I'm charm’d, whene'er thou talk'st; I pant

for virtue; And all my soul endeavours at perfection.

Cato. Dost thou love watchings, abstinence, and toil, Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato :

Success and fortune must thou learn from Cæsar.

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


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 aim'd at nothing.
Cato. Tell me thy wish, young prince; make not

my ear
A stranger to thy thoughts.

Jub. Oh! they're extravagant ;
Still let me hide them.

Cato. What can Juba ask,
That Cato will refuse?

Jub. I fear to name it.
Marcia_inherits all her father's virtues.

Cato. What would'st thou say?
Juba. Cato, thou hast a daughter.
Cato. Adieu, young prince; I would not hear a

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.

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

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:

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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

I've known young Juba rise before the

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


in man? Would'st thou seduce my youth To do an act that would destroy mine honour? Syph. Gods, I could tear my hair to hear


talk! Honour's a fine imaginary notioo, That draws in raw and inexperienced men To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.

Jub. Would'st thou degrade thy prince into a ruf

fian? 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, Cæsars, Pompeys, and your Catos, (The gods on earth) are all the spurious blood Of violated maids, of ravish'd Sabines.

Jub. Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles. Syph. Indeed, my prince, you want to know the

world. Jub. If knowledge of the world makes men perfi

dious, May Juba ever live in ignorance !

Syph. Go, go; you're young.

Jub. Gods, must I tamely bear
This arrogance, unanswer'd! thou'rt a traitor,
A false old traitor.
Syph. I have gone too far.

[ Aside. Juba. 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


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 Syph. Not hear me talk! what, when my faith to

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

you talk.

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