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And repeated blessings,
last farewell The good old king, at parting, wrung my hand, (His eyes brimful of tears, then sighing cry'd, Prythee be careful of my son!-His grief Swelld up so high, he could not utter more.
Jub. Alas! thy story melts away my soul ! That best of fathers ! how shall I discharge The gratitude and duty that I owe him ?
Syph. By laying up his counsels in your heart.
Sub. His counsels bade me yield to thy direction: Then, Syphax, chide me in severest terms, Vent all thy passion, and I'll stand its shock, Calm and unruffled as a summer sea, When not a breath of wind flies o'er its surface. Syph. Alas! my prince, I'd guide you to your
safety. Jub. I do believe thou would'st; but tell me how? Syph. Fly from the fate that follows Cæsar's foes. Jub. My father scorn'd to do it. Syph. And therefore died. Jub. Better to die ten thousand thousand deaths, Than wound
honour. Syph. Rather say, your
love. Sub. Syphax, I've promised to preserve my temper. Why wilt thou urge me to confess a flame I long have stifled, and would fain conceal ? Syph. Believe me, prince, though hard to conquer
love, 'Tis easy to divert and break its force. Absence might cure it, or a second mistress Light up another flame, and put out this. The glowing dames of Zama's royal court Have faces flush'd with more exalted charms; Were you with these, my prince, you'd soon forget The pale, unripen'd beauties of the north.
Jub. 'Tis not a set of features, or complexion, The tincture of a skin, that I adinire:
, Beauty soon grows familiar to the lover,
Fades in his eye, and palls upon the sense.
praise ! But on my knees, I beg you would considerJub. Ha! Syphax, is’t not she ?-She moves this
way ; And with her Lucia, Lucius's fair daughter. My heart beats thickI pr’ythee, Syphax, leave me.
Syph. Ten thousand curses fasten on them both! Now will the woman, with a single glance, Undo, what I've been lab'ring all this while.
[Exit SYPHAX. Enter MARCIA and Lucia. Jub. Hail, charming maid ! How does thy beauty
smooth The face of war,
and make even horror smile! At sight of thee my heart shakes off its sorrows; I feel a dawn of joy break in upon me, And for a while forget th' approach of Cæsar. Mar. I should be grieved, young prince, to think
my presence Unbent your thoughts, and slacken'd them to arms, While, warm with slaughter, our victorious foe, Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field.
Jub. Oh, Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns And gentle wishes follow me to battle ! The thought will give new vigour to my arm,
And strength and weight to my descending sword, And drive it in a tempest on the foe.
Marcia. My pray’rs and wishes always shall attend The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue, And men approved of by the gods and Cato.
Jub. That Juba may deserve thy pious cares, I'll
gaze for ever on thy godlike father, Transplanting one by one, into my life, His bright perfections, till I shine like him.
Marcia. My father never, at a time like this, Would lay out his great soul in words, and waste Such precious moments.
Jub. Thy reproofs are just, Thou virtuous maid ; I'll hasten to my troops, And fire their languid souls with Cato's virtue. If e'er I lead them to the field, when all The war shall stand ranged in its just array, And dreadful pomp; then will I think on thee; Oh, lovely maid! then will I think on thee; And in the shock of charging hosts, remember What gloricus deeds should grace the man, who hopes For Marcia's love.
Lucia. Why will you fight against so sweet a passion, And steel your heart to such a world of charms ? Marcia. How, Lucia! would'st thou have me sink
And aims his thunder at my father's head.
Lucia. Why have I not this constancy of mind,
this conflict in thee? Lucia. I need not blush to name them, when I tell
thee They're Marcia's brothers, ard the sons of Cato. Marcia. They both behold thee with their sister's
Marcia. Alas, poor youth !
Lucia. You seem to plead
Marcia. Heav'n forbid.
Lucia. Was ever virgin love distress'd like mine!
Then bids me hide the motions of my heart,
Marcia. Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our sorrows,
So the pure limpid stream, when foul with stains
ACT THE SECOND.
The Senate sitting.
Cato. Fathers, we once again are met in council ; Cæsar's approach has summon’d us together, And Rome attends her fate from our resolves. How shall we treat this bold aspiring man?