42 Cato. And canst thou think Cato will fly before the sword of Cæsar! Reduc’d, like Hannibal, to seek relief From court to court, and wander up and down Jub. Cato, perhaps I'm too officious; but my forward cares Cato. Thy nobleness of soul obliges me. Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice 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 Cæsar. 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? The words confound me. Jub. I would fain retract them, Give 'em 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 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 But chains, or conquest; liberty, or death. Enter SYPHAX. [Exit. 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. Jub. I've open'd to him The weakness of my soul, my love for Marcia. A love-tale with. Jub. Oh, I could pierce my heart, My foolish heart. Was ever wretch like Juba! Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts: How did the colour mount into your cheeks, Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down, Jub. Pr'ythee no more. Syph. How would the old king smile To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with gold, In ev'ry word) wou'd now lose all its sweetness. Syph. Young prince, I yet could give you good advice, Marcia might still be yours. Jub. What say'st thou, Syphax ? By Heav'ns, thou turn'st me all into attention. Syph. Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops, Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds. And bear her off. Jub. Can such dishonest thoughts Rise up in man? Wouldst thou seduce my youth That draws in raw and unexperienc'd men To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow. Jub. Wouldst thou degrade thy prince into a ruffian? Syph. The boasted ancestors of those 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. You have not read mankind; your youth admires The throes and swellings of a Roman soul, Cato's bold flights, th' extravagance of virtue. 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, Syph. I have gone to far. [Aside. Jub. Cato shall know the baseness of thy soul. [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, th' 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. Is it because the throne of my forefathers Still stands unfill'd, and that Numidia's crown Hangs doubtful yet whose head it shall inclose, Thou thus presum'st to treat thy prince with scorn? Syph. Why will you rive my heart with such expressions? Does not old Syphax follow you to war? What are his aims? Why does he load with darts |