Cato: A Tragedy, in Five Acts

Syph. And 'tis for this my prince has call'd me traitor.

Jub. Sure thou mistakest; I did not call thee so.

Syph. You did, indeed, my prince, you call'd me traitor.
Nay, further, threatened 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?

Jub. Syphax, I know thou lovest me; but indeed
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 her,
And imitates her actions where she is not;
It ought not to be sported with.

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

Jub. Syphax, thy hand; we'll mutually forget
The warmth of youth, and forwardness of age:
Thy prince esteems thy worth, and loves thy person.
If e'er the sceptre come into my hand,
Syphax shall stand the second in my kingdom.

Syph. Why will you overwhelm my age with kindness?
My joys grow burdensome, I sha'n't support it.

Jub. Syphax, farewell. I'll hence, and try to find
Some blest occasion, that may set me right
In Cato's thoughts. I'd rather have that man
Approve my deeds, than worlds for my admirers.[Exit.

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 thee;
But hence, 'tis gone! I give it to the winds:
Cæsar, I'm wholly thine.

Enter Sempronius

All hail, Sempronius!
Well, Cato's senate is resolved to wait
The fury of a siege, before it yields.

Sem. Syphax, we both were on the verge of fate;
Lucius declared for peace, and terms were offer'd
To Cato, by a messenger from Cæsar.
Should they submit, ere our designs are ripe,
We both must perish in the common wreck,
Lost in the general, undistinguish'd ruin.

Syph. But how stands Cato?

Sem. Thou hast seen mount Atlas:
Whilst storms and tempests thunder on its brows,
And oceans break their billows at its feet,
It stands unmoved, 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 Cæsar.

Syph. But what's this messenger?

Sem. I've practised 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 every reason on him,
Soothed and caress'd; been angry, soothed again;
Laid safety, life, and interest in his sight;
But all are vain, he scorns them all for Cato.

Sem. Come, 'tis no matter; we shall do without him.
He'll make a pretty figure in a triumph,
And serve to trip before the victor's chariot.
Syphax, I now may hope thou hast forsook
Thy Juba's cause, and wishest Marcia mine.

Syph. May she be thine as fast as thou wouldst have her.

Sem. Syphax, I love that woman; though I curse
Her and myself, yet, spite of me, I love her.

Syph. Make Cato sure, and give up Utica,
Cæsar will ne'er refuse thee such a trifle.
But are thy troops prepared 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