And bids us not delight in Roman blood,
Unprofitably shed: what men could do

Is done already heaven and earth will witness,
If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.

Semp. This smooth discourse, and mild behaviour, oft
Conceal a traitor. Something whispers me
All is not right. Cato, beware of Lucius.
Cato. Let us appear nor rash nor diffident:
Immoderate 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 desperate: we have bulwarks round us ;
Within our walls are troops inured to toil
In Afric's heats, and seasoned 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 Cæsar'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 watched the gate, Lodged on my post, a herald is arrived

From Cæsar'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.
Decius was once my friend; but other prospects
Have loosed those ties, and bound him fast to Cæsar.
His message may determine our resolves.

Enter DECIUS.

Dec. Cæsar sends health to Cato.

Cato. Could he send it

To Cato's slaughtered friends, it would be welcome.
Are not your orders to address the senate ?

Dec. My business is with Cato; Cæsar 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 Cæsar;
Her generals and her consuls are no more,

Who checked his conquests, and denied his triumphs.
Why will not Cato be this Caesar's friend?

Cato. Those 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 every hour to burst upon it;
Still may you stand high in your country's honours,
Do but comply, and make your peace with Cæsar.
Rome will rejoice, and cast its eyes on Cato,
As on the second of mankind.

Cato. No more :

I must not think of life on such conditions.

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

Cato. Bid him disband his legions,

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

And stand the judgment of a Roman senate.

Bid him do this, and Cato is his friend.

Dec. Cato, the world talks loudly of your wisdom

Cato. Nay, more, though Cato's voice was ne'er employed 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.
Deo. What is a Roman, that is Cæsar's foe?
Cato. Greater than Cæsar: he's a friend to virtue.
Dec. Consider, Cato, you're in Utica,

And at the head of your own little senate;

You don't now thunder in the Capitol,

With all the mouths of Rome to second you.

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

Which conquest and success have thrown upon him;

U

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 covered with misfortunes;
But, as I love my country, millions of worlds
Should never buy me to be like that Cæsar.

Dec. Does Cato send this answer back to Cæsar,
For all his generous cares, and proffered friendship?
Cato. His cares for me are insolent and vain :
Presumptuous man! The gods take care of Cato.
Would Cæsar show the greatness of his soul,
Bid him employ his care for these my friends,
And make good use of his ill-gotten power,
By sheltering men much better than himself.

Dec. Your high, unconquered 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.

Addison.

Ex. 199.

Scene from the Critic.

DANGLE, SNEER,

Enter SERVANT.

Serv. Sir Fretful Plagiary, sir.

Dang. Beg him to walk up.

Sneer. You have read the tragedy he has just finished, havn't you?

Dang. O yes; he sent it to me yesterday.

Sneer. Well, and you think it execrable, don't you?

Dang. Why, between ourselves, egad, I must own-though he is my friend-that it is one of the most-He's here[Aside]-finished and most admirable perform—

Sir Fret. [Without.] Mr. Sneer with him, did you say?

Enter SIR FRETFUL PLAGIARY.

Dang. Ah, my dear friend!--Egad, we were just speaking of your tragedy.-Admirable, Sir Fretful, admirable!

Sneer. You never did anything beyond it, Sir Fretfulnever in your life.

Sir Fret. You make me extremely happy; for without a compliment, my dear Sneer, there isn't a man in the world whose judgment I value as I do yours and Mr. Dangle's.

Dang. But, Sir Fretful, have you sent your play to the manager's yet?--or can I be of any service to you?

Sir Fret. No, no, I thank you: I believe the piece had sufficient recommendation with it.-I thank you, though. But come, now, there must be something that you think might be mended, eh?—Mr. Dangle, has nothing struck you?

Dang. Why, faith, it is but an ungracious thing, for the most part, to

Sir Fret. With most authors it is so, indeed; they are in general, strangely tenacious! But, for my part, I am never so well pleased as when a judicious critic points out any defect to me; for what is the purpose of showing a work to a friend, if you don't mean to profit by his opinion?

Sneer. Very true.-Why, then, though I seriously admire the piece upon the whole, yet there is one small objection, which, if you'll give me leave, I'll mention.

Sir Fret. Sir, you can't oblige me more.

Sneer. I think it wants incident.

Sir Fret. Good Heavens! you surprise me !-Wants incident?

Sneer. Yes; I own I think the incidents are too few.

Sir Fret. Good Heavens! Believe me, Mr. Sneer, there is no person for whose judgment I have a more implicit deference. But I protest to you, Mr. Sneer, I am only apprehensive that the incidents are too crowded. -My dear Dangle, how does it strike you?

Dang. Really, I can't agree with my friend Sneer. 1 think the plot quite sufficient; and the first four acts by many degrees the best I ever read or saw in my life. If I might venture to suggest anything, it is that the interest rather falls off in the fifth.

Sir Fret. Rises, I believe you mean, sir.

Dang. No, I don't, upon my word.

Sir Fret. Yes, yes, you do, upon my honour!--it certainly don't fall off, I assure you.-No, no; it don't fall off.

Dang. Well, Sir Fretful, I wish you may be able to get rid as easily of the newspaper criticisms as you do of ours Sir Fret. The newspapers! Sir, they are the most villanous-licentious-abominable-infernal-Not that I ever read them--no-I make it a rule never to look into a newspaper. Dang. You are right; for it certainly must hurt an author of delicate feelings to see the liberties they take.

Sir Fret. No, quite the contrary! Their abuse is, in fact, the best panegyric-I like it of all things. An author's reputation is only in danger from their support.

Sneer. Why, that's true-and that attack, now, on you the other day

Sir Fret. What? Where?

Dang. Ay, you mean in a paper of Thursday: it was completely ill-natured, to be sure.

Sir Fret. O so much the better. Ha ha ha! I wouldn't have it otherwise.

Dang. Certainly, it is only to be laughed at; for

Sir Fret. You don't happen to recollect what the fellow said, do you?

Sneer. Pray, Dangle-Sir Fretful seems a little anxiousSir Fret. O lud, no!-anxious !-not I,-not the least,— I,--but one may as well hear, you know.

Dang. Sneer, do you recollect ?-[Aside to SNEER.]-Make out something.

Sneer. [Aside to DANGLE.] I will.-Aloud.] Yes, yes; I remember perfectly.

Sir Fret. Well, and pray now-not that it signifies—what might the gentleman say?

Sneer. Why, he roundly asserts that you have not the slightest invention or original genius whatever; though you are the greatest traducer of all other authors living.

Sir Fret. Ha! ha ha!-very good!

Sneer. That as to comedy, you have not one idea of your own, he believes, even in your common-place book-where stray jokes and pilfered witticisms are kept with as much method as the ledger of the lost and stolen office.

Sir Fret. Ha ha! ha!-very pleasant!

Sneer. Nay, that you are so unlucky as not to have the skill even to steal with taste :-that you glean from the refuse of obscure volumes, where more judicious plagiarists have been before you; so that the body of your work is a composition of dregs and sentiments-like a bad tavern's worst wine.

Sir Fret. Ha! ha!

Sneer. In your more serious efforts, he says, your bombast would be less intolerable if the thoughts were ever suited to the expression; but the homeliness of the sentiment stares through the fantastic encumbrance of its fine language, like a clown in one of the new uniforms!

Sir Fret. Ha! ha!

Sneer. In short, that even the finest passages you steal are of no service to you; for the poverty of your own language prevents their assimilating; so that they lie on the surface like lumps of marl on a barren moor, encumbering what it is not in their power to fertilise.

Sir Fret. [After great agitation.] Now, another person would be vexed at this.