And make even Cæsar tremble at the head Of armies flush'd with conquest. Oh, my Portius! Could I but call that wondrous man my father, Would but thy sister Marcia be propitious To thy friend's vows, I might be blest indeed! Por. Alas, Sempronius! would'st 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 world has all its eyes on Cato's son; here On this important hour-I'll straight away, That show'rs down greatness on his friends, will raise me To Rome's first honours. If I give up Cato, Enter SYPHAX. Syph. Sempronius, all is ready; And wait but the command to change their master. 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 Cæsar, And challenge better terms. Syph. Alas! he's lost! He's lost, Sempronius; all his thoughts are full If yet motive. Sem. Be sure to press upon him every Syph. But is it true, Sempronius, that your senaté 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 Cæsar, till I shake the senate. Your cold hypocrisy's a stale device, A worn-out trick: would'st 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; Cæsar 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? Above your own Numidia's tawny sons? The fiery steed, and trains him to his hand? Jub. These all are virtues of a meaner rank: There may'st thou see to what a godlike height While good, and just, and anxious for his friends, Syph. Believe me, prince, there's not an African On the first friendly bank he throws him down, Jub. Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern 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 He had not fall'n by a slave's hand inglorious. 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, |