Part 4 (1/2)

_Cato._ Greater than Caesar: he's a friend to virtue.

_Dec._ Consider, Cato, you're in Utica, And at the head of your own little senate: You do not thunder in the capitol, With all the mouths of Rome to second you.

_Cato._ Let him consider that, who drives us. .h.i.ther.

'Tis Caesar's sword has made Rome's senate little, And thinn'd its ranks. Alas! thy dazzled eye Beholds this man in a false glaring light, Which conquest and success have thrown upon him; 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 cover'd with misfortunes; But, by the G.o.ds I swear, millions of worlds Should never buy me to be like that Caesar.

_Dec._ Does Cato send this answer back to Caesar, For all his gen'rous cares and proffer'd friends.h.i.+p?

_Cato._ His cares for me are insolent and vain: Presumptuous man! the G.o.ds take care of Cato.

Would Caesar show the greatness of his soul, Bid him employ his care for these my friends, And make good use of his ill-gotten pow'r, By sheltering men much better than himself.

_Dec._ Your high, unconquer'd 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 emba.s.sy, All Rome will be in tears. [_Exit_ DECIUS.

_Sem._ Cato, we thank thee.

The mighty genius of immortal Rome Speaks in thy voice; thy soul breathes liberty.

Caesar will shrink to hear the words thou utter'st, And shudder in the midst of all his conquests.

_Luc._ The senate owns its grat.i.tude to Cato, Who with so great a soul consults its safety, And guards our lives, while he neglects his own.

_Sem._ Semp.r.o.nius gives no thanks on this account.

Lucius seems fond of life; but what is life?

'Tis not to stalk about, and draw fresh air From time to time, or gaze upon the sun; 'Tis to be free. When liberty is gone, Life grows insipid.

_Cato._ Come; no more, Semp.r.o.nius; All here are friends to Rome, and to each other.

Let us not weaken still the weaker side By our divisions.

_Sem._ Cato, my resentments Are sacrificed to Rome--I stand reproved.

_Cato._ Fathers, 'tis time you come to a resolve.

_Luc._ Cato, we all go in to your opinion; Caesar's behaviour has convinced the senate We ought to hold it out till terms arrive.

_Sem._ We ought to hold it out till death; but, Cato, My private voice is drown'd amidst the senate's.

_Cato._ Then let us rise, my friends, and strive to fill This little interval, this pause of life (While yet our liberty and fates are doubtful) With resolution, friends.h.i.+p, Roman bravery, And all the virtues we can crowd into it; That Heav'n may say, it ought to be prolong'd.

Fathers, farewell--The young Numidian prince Comes forward, and expects to know our counsels. [_Exeunt_ SENATORS.

_Enter_ JUBA.

Juba, the Roman senate has resolved, Till time give better prospects, still to keep The sword unsheathed, and turn its edge on Caesar.

_Jub._ The resolution fits a Roman senate.

But, Cato, lend me for a while thy patience, And condescend to hear a young man speak.

My father, when, some days before his death, He order'd me to march for Utica, (Alas! I thought not then his death so near!) Wept o'er me, press'd me in his aged arms, And, as his griefs gave way, ”My son,” said he, ”Whatever fortune shall befal thy father, Be Cato's friend; he'll train thee up to great And virtuous deeds; do but observe him well, Thou'lt shun misfortunes, or thou'lt learn to bear them.”

_Cato._ Juba, thy father was a worthy prince, And merited, alas! a better fate; But Heav'n thought otherwise.