Cato: A Tragedy, in Five Acts

Has he forsook his post? Has he given way?
Did he look tamely on, and let them pass?

Por. Scarce had I left my father, but I met him
Borne on the shields of his surviving soldiers,
Breathless and pale, and cover'd o'er with wounds.
Long, at the head of his few faithful friends,
He stood the shock of a whole host of foes,
Till, obstinately brave, and bent on death,
Oppress'd with multitudes, he greatly fell.

Cato. I'm satisfied.

Por. Nor did he fall, before
His sword had pierced thro' the false heart of Syphax.
Yonder he lies. I saw the hoary traitor
Grin in the pangs of death, and bite the ground.

Cato. Thanks to the gods, my boy has done his duty.
– Portius, when I am dead, be sure you place
His urn near mine.

Por. Long may they keep asunder!

Luc. Oh, Cato, arm thy soul with all its patience;
See where the corpse of thy dead son approaches!
The citizens and senators alarm'd,
Have gather'd round it, and attend it weeping.

Cato meeting the Corpse. – Senators attending

Cato. Welcome, my son! Here lay him down, my friends,
Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure
The bloody corse, and count those glorious wounds.
– How beautiful is death, when earn'd by virtue!
Who would not be that youth? What pity is it,
That we can die but once, to serve our country!
– Why sits this sadness on your brows, my friends?
I should have blush'd, if Cato's house had stood
Secure, and flourish'd in a civil war.
Portius, behold thy brother, and remember,
Thy life is not thy own when Rome demands it.

Jub. Was ever man like this!

Cato. Alas, my friends,
Why mourn you thus? let not a private loss
Afflict your hearts. 'Tis Rome requires our tears,
The mistress of the world, the seat of empire,
The nurse of heroes, the delight of gods,
That humbled the proud tyrants of the earth,
And set the nations free; Rome is no more.
Oh, liberty! Oh, virtue! Oh, my country!

Jub. Behold that upright man! Rome fills his eyes
With tears, that flow'd not o'er his own dear son.[Aside.

Cato. Whate'er the Roman virtue has subdued,
The sun's whole course, the day and year, are Cæsar's:
For him the self-devoted Decii died,
The Fabii fell, and the great Scipios conquer'd:
Ev'n Pompey fought for Cæsar. Oh, my friends,
How is the toil of fate, the work of ages,
The Roman empire, fall'n! Oh, cursed ambition!
Fall'n into Cæsar's hands! Our great forefathers
Had left him nought to conquer but his country.

Jub. While Cato lives, Cæsar will blush to see
Mankind enslaved, and be ashamed of empire.

Cato. Cæsar ashamed! Has he not seen Pharsalia?

Luc. 'Tis time thou save thyself and us.

Cato. Lose not a thought on me; I'm out of danger:
Heaven will not leave me in the victor's hand.
Cæsar shall never say, he conquer'd Cato.
But oh, my friends! your safety fills my heart
With anxious thoughts; a thousand secret terrors
Rise in my soul. How shall I save my friends?
'Tis now, O Cæsar, I begin to fear thee!

Luc. Cæsar has mercy, if we ask it of him.

Cato. Then ask it, I conjure you; let him know,
Whate'er was done against him, Cato did it.
Add, if you please, that I request of him, —
That I myself, with tears, request it of him, —
The virtue of my friends may pass unpunish'd.
Juba, my heart is troubled for thy sake.
Should I advise thee to regain Numidia,
Or seek the conqueror?

Jub. If I forsake thee
Whilst I have life, may Heaven abandon Juba!

Cato. Thy virtues, prince, if I foresee aright,
Will one day make thee great; at Rome, hereafter,
'Twill be no crime to have been Cato's friend.
Portius, draw near: my son, thou oft hast seen