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And make even Cæsar tremble at the head
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 more I'm charm’d. Thou must take heed, my
That show'rs down greatness on his friends, will raise
To Rome's first honours. If I give up Cato,
Syph. Sempronius, all is ready; I've sounded my Numidians, man by man, And find them ripe for a revolt: they all Complain aloud of Cato's discipline, And wait but the command to change their master.
Sem. Believe me, Syphax, there's no time to waste; Ev’n while we speak, our conqueror comes on, And gathers ground upon us every moment. Alas! thou know'st not Cæsar's active soul, With what a dreadful course he rushes on From war to war. In vain has nalure form'd Mountains and oceans to oppose
Juba? That still would recommend thee more to Cæsar, And challenge better terms.
Syph. Alas! he's lost!
I can subdue those stubborn principles
him every motive.
Syph. But is it true, Sempronius, that your senate Is callid 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;) l'II 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 ear
nest, 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. [E.cit.
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 uso 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.
pecple up Above your own Numidia's tawny sons ? Do they with tougher sinews bend the bow ? Or Alies the jav'lin swifter to its mark, Launch'd from the vigour of a Roman arm? Who like our active African instructs The fiery steed, and trains hiın to his hand ? Or guides in troops th’embattled elephant Laden with war? These, these are arts, my prince, In which your Zama does not stoop to Rome.
Jub. These all are virtues of a meaner rank: Perfections that are placed in bones and nerves. A Roman soul is bent on higher views ; Turn up thy eyes to Cato ; There may'st thou see to what a godlike height The Roman virtues lift up mortal man. While good, and just, and anxious for his friends, He's still severely bent against himself; And when his fortune sets before him all The pomps and pleasures that his soul can wish, His rigid virtue will accept of none.
Syph. Believe me, prince, there's not an African That traverses our vast Numidian deserts In quest of prey, and lives
On the first friendly bank he throws him down,
Jub. Thy prejudices, Syphax, won't discern
him! Syph. 'Tis pride, rank pride, and haughtiness of
Jub. Why dost thou call my sorrows up afresh ? My father's name brings tears into my eyes.
Syph. Oh, that you'd profit by your father's ills!
phan, 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,