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

You look as if yon stern philosopher

Had just now chid you.

Juba. Syphax, I'm undone!

Syph. I know it well.

Juba. Cato thinks meanly of me.
Syph. And so will all mankind.
Juba. 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!

Juba. Oh, I could pierce my heart,
My foolish heart!

Syph. Alas, my prince, how are you chang'd
of late!

I've known young Juba rise before the sun,
To beat the thicket, where the tiger slept,
Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts.
I've seen you,

Ev'n in the Libyan dog-days, bunt him down,
Then charge him close,

And, stooping from your horse,

Rivet the panting savage to the ground.
Juba. Pr'ythee, no more.

Syph. How would the old king smile,

To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with

gold, ders!

Juba. If knowledge of the world makes men

May Juba ever live in ignorance!
Šyph. Go, go; you're young.
Juba. Gods, must I tamely bear

This arrogance unanswer'd! thour't a traitor,
A false old traitor.

[Aside. Juba. Cato shall know the baseness of thy

Syph. I have gone too far.


in it.

Syph. I must appease this storm, or perish [Aside. Young prince, behold these locks, that are

grown white

Beneath a helmet in your father's battles.
Juba. Those locks shall ne'er protect thy


Syph. Must one rash word, the infirmity of


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!

Juba. Is it because the throne of my fore-

Still stands unfill'd, and that Numidia's crown
Hangs doubtful yet whose head it shall enclose,
Thou thus presum'st to treat thy prince with


Syph. Why will you rive my heart with such expressions?

Does not old Syphax follow you to war!


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And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoul-What are his aims? to shed the slow remains, His last poor ebb of blood in your defence?" Juba. Syphax, no more! I would not hear

Juba. Syphax, this old man's talk, though honey flow'd

In ev'ry word, would now lose all its sweetness. Cato's displeas'd, and Marcia lost for ever. Syph. Young prince, I yet could give you good advice;

Marcia might still be yours.

Juba. As how, dear Syphax?

Syph. Juba commands Numidia's hardy


Mounted on steeds unus'd to the restraint
Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:
Give but the word, we snatch this damsel up,
And hear her off.

Juba. 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 inexperienc'd men
To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.
Juba. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince
into a ruffian?

Syph. The boasted ancestors of these great


Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruf-

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.

Juba. 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.

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Nay, further, threaten'd you'd complain to Cato. Of what, my prince, would you complain to Cato?

That Syphax loves you, and would sacrifice
His life, nay more, his honour, in your service?
Juba. Syphax, I know thou lov'st me; but

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

And imitates her actions where she is not:
It ought not to be sported with.


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Syph. Believe me, prince, you make old phax weep

Sy-Unusual fastings, and will bear no more
This medley of philosophy and war.
Within an hour they'll storm the senate-house.
Syph. Meanwhile I'll draw up my Numi-
dian troops

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.
Juba. Syphax, thy hand; we'll mutually forget Within the square, to exercise their arms,
The warmth of youth, and frowardness of age: And, as I see occasion, favour thee.
Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy I laugh to see how your unshaken Cato


If e'er the sceptre come into my hand,
Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom.
Syph. Why will you o'erwhelm my age
with kindness?

My joys grow burdensome, I shan't support it.
Juba. Syphax, farewell. I'll hence, and try
to find

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 th' air, in circling eddies play,
Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains

Some blest occasion, that may set me right The helpless traveller, with wild surprise, In Cato's thoughts. I'd rather have that man Sees the dry desert all around him rise, Approve my deeds, than worlds for my admir-And, smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies.



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

But hence, 'tis gone! I give it to the winds:
Caesar, I'm wholly thine.-


All hail, Sempronius!

Well, Cato's senate is resolv'd to wait
The fury of a siege, before it yields.
Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge
of fate;

Lucius declar'd for peace, and terms were of

To Cato, by a messenger from Caesar.
Syph. But how stands Cato?

Sen. Thou hast seen mount Atlas:

Whilst storms and tempets thunder on its brows
And oceans break their billows at its feet,
It stands unmov'd, and glories in its height:
Such is that haughty man; his tow'ring soul
'Midst all the shocks and injuries of fortune,
Rises superior, and looks down on Caesar.
Syph. But what's this messenger?
Sem. I've practis'd 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 ev'ry reason on him,
Sooth'd and caress'd; been angry, sooth'd again;
Laid safety, life, and interest in his sight;
But all are vain, he scorns them all for Cato.
Sem. Well, 'tis no matter; we shall do
without him.

Syphas, I now may hope, thou hast forsook
The Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine.
Syph. May she be thine as fast as thou
wouldst have her.

But are thy troops prepar'd 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
Marmurs and discontents among the soldiers:
They count their toilsome marches, long fa-



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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 tim'd, '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

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

And grief, and rage, and love, rise up at once,
And with variety of pain distract me.

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Por. What can thy Portius do to give thee help?

Marc. Portius, thou oft enjoy'st the fair one's

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 day's, 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


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 reasonsMarc. 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 didst but know thyself what 'tis to love! Then wouldst thou pity and assist thy brother. Por. What should I do? If I disclose my


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 perjur'd 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, th' accursed cause That robs him of his son:-farewell, my Portius! Farewell, though death is in the word-for ever! Por. 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

Our friendship's at an end; if I conceal it,
The world will call me false to friend and The common accidents of life; but here
[Aside. 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.

brother. 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 awhile. Remember, Portius,
Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue.
Enter LUCIA.

Lucia. Did not I see your brother Marcus
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,

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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

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 thunder-

Those hasty words, or I am lost for ever.

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.



Marc. Portius, what hopes? How stands she? am I doom'd

To life or death?

Por. What wouldst thou have me say? Marc. Thy downcast looks, and thy disor der'd thoughts,

Tell me my fate. I ask not the success
My cause has found.

Por. I'm griev'd I undertook it.
Marc. What, does the barbarous maid in-
sult my heart,

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My aching heart, and triumph in my pains? 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


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 deserv'd thi
Marc. What have I said? Ob, Portius, ol
forgive me!

A soul, exasperate in ills, falls out With every thing—its friend, itself—but, hah [Shouts and Trumpets What means that shout, big with the sound of war?

What new alarm?

[Shouts and Trumpets repeated. Por. A second, louder yet, Swells in the wind, and comes more full upon


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


Por. Quick, let us hence. Cato's life

Who knows



Sem. Cato, commit these wretches to my care; First let them each be broken on the rack, Then, with what life remains, impal'd, 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


But in their deaths remember they are men ; if Lucius, the base, degen'rate age requires Severity.

Stands sure? Oh, Marcus, I am warm'd; my When by just vengeance guilty mortals perish, The gods behold the punishment with pleasure, And lay th' uplifted thunderbolt aside.

Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns



[Exeunt. Trumpets and shouting.

SCENE IL-Before the Senate-house. Enter SEMPRONIUS, with the Leaders of the Mutiny.

Sem. At length the winds are rais'd, 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.
Mean while, I'll herd among his friends, and


One of the number, that, whate'er arrive, My friends and fellow-soldiers may be safe.

[Exit. [Trumpets.

1 Lead. We are all safe; Sempronius is our friend.

Sem. Cato, I execute thy will with pleasure. Cato. Mean while, we'll sacrifice to liberty. Remember, O my friends! the laws, the rights, The gen'rous plan of power deliver'd 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 balf in earnest.

Sem. Villain, stand off; base, grov'ling, worthless wretches,

But, bark, Cato enters. Bear up boldly to him; Mongrels in faction, poor faint-hearted traitors! 2 Lead. Nay, now you carry it too far, Sempronius!

Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast; This day will end our toils.

Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.

Trumpets. Re-enter SEMPRONIUS, with CATO, LECIES, PORTIUS, MARCUS, and Guards. 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,
Bebold my bosom naked to your swords,
And let the man that's injur'd strike the blow.
Which of you all suspects that he is wrong'd,
Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato?
Am I distinguish'd from you but by toils,
Superior toils, and heavier weight of cares?
Painful pre-eminence!

Sem. Confusion to the villains! all is lost!

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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
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 the Leaders of the Mutiny.


Syph. Our first design, my friend, has prov'd

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

Cato. Hence, worthless men! hence! and And hew down all that would oppose our

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Syphax, I long to clasp thai haughty maid, 'Twould be to torture that young, gay barbarian.
And bend her stubborn virtue to my passion:-But hark! what noise! Death to my hopes!
When I have gone thus far, I'd cast her off.
'tis he,
Syph. What hinders, then, but that thou Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left-
He must be murder'd, and a passage cut
Through those his guards.

find her out,

And hurry her away by manly force?

Sem. But how to gain admission? For access Is giv'n to none but Juba and her brothers. Syph. Thou shalt have Juba's dress and Ju

ba's guards;

Enter JUBA, with Guards.

Juba. What do I see? Who's this that dares usurp

The doors will open, when Numidia's prince The guards and habits of Numidia's prince? Seems to appear before the slaves that watch Sem. One that was born to scourge thy ar

them. Sem. Heav'ns, 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 seiz'd off Proserpine, convey'd
To hell's tremendous gloom th' affrighted maid;
There grimly smil'd, pleas'd with the beauteous


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Juba. What can this mean? Sempronius! Sem. My sword shall answer thee. Have at thy heart.

Juba. Nay, then, beware thy own, proud, barbarous man.

[They fight; Sempronius falls. Sem. Curse on my stars! Am I then doom'd to fall

By a boy's hand, disfigur'd in a vile
Numidian dress, and for a worthless woman?

Nor envy'd Jove his sunshine and his skies. 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!


SCENE L-A Chamber.
Lucia. Now tell me, Marcia, tell me from
thy soul,

If thou believ'st 'tis possible for woman
To suffer greater ills than Lucia suffers?
Marcia. Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might my big
swoln 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


Juba. With what a spring his furious soul broke loose,

And left the limbs still quiv'ring on the ground!
Hence let us carry off those slaves to Cato,
That we may there at length unravel all
This dark design, this mystery of fate.

[Exit Juba; his Guards taking
those of Sempronius as Pri-


Enter LUCIA and MARCIA. Lucia. Sure 'twas the clash of swords; my troubled heart

By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius: Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows, But which of these has pow'r to charm like It throbs with fear, and aches at ev'ry sound. Portius? Oh, Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sakedie away with horror at the thought! Marcia. See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder!

Marcia. Still I must beg thee not to name Sempronius. Lucia, I like not that loud, boist'rous man, Juba, to all the brav'ry of a hero, Adds softest love and sweetness: he, I own, Might make indeed the proudest woman happy. 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 lodg'd, I've track'd her to her covert.

He sure you mind the word, and, when I give it, Rush in at once, and seize upon your prey. How will the young Numidian rave to see His mistress lost! If aught could glad my soul, Beyond th' enjoyment of so bright a prize,

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 lo rend my heart with grief, and run distracted Lucia. What can I think, or say, to giv thee comfort?

Marcia. Talk not of comfort; 'tis for lighte

ills: Behold a sight that strikes all comfort dead.

Enter JUBA, unperceived.

I will indulge my sorrows, and give way
To all the pangs and fury of despair;
That man, that best of men deserv'd it from n
Juba. What do I hear? and was the fal

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