Fathers, pronounce your thoughts are they still fixt To hold it out, and fight it to the last ? |

Or are your hearts subdu'd at length, and wrought By time, and ill success, to a submission? | Sempronius, speak. |

Semp.

My voice is still for war. |

Can a Roman senate long debate |

Which of the two to choose
No

- slav'ry, or death'? |

let us rise at once, gird on our swords', |

And, at the head of our remaining troops, |
Attack the foe, break through the thick array |

Of his throng'd legions, and charge home' upon him:]
Perhaps some arm, more lucky than the rest,

May reach his heart, and free the world from bondage.
Rise, fathers, rise'!'T is Rome demands your help; |
Rise, and revenge her slaughter'd citizens, |

Or share their fate.! The corpse of half her sen`ate, }
Manure the fields of Thessaly, while we
Sit here deliberating in cold debates, |
Whether to sacrifice our lives to honor, |

Or wear them out in servitude, and chains. |
Rouse up, for shame! our brothers of Pharsalia |

Point at their wounds,
Great Pompey's shade

and cry aloud — to bat'tle! | complains that we are slow ;] And Scipio's ghost walks unreveng'd' amongst us! |

Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal |
Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason: |
True fortitude is seen in great exploits |

That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides - |
All else is tow'ring frenzy and distraction. |
Are not the lives of those who draw the sword
In Rome's defence, intrusted to our care? |
Should we thus lead them to a field of slaughter, |
Might not the impartial world, with reason, say,
We lavish'd at our deaths the blood of thousands, |
To grace our fall, and make our ruin glorious? |
Lucius, we next would know what's your' opinion. I

Luc. My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace.

Already have our quarrels fill'd the world

With widows, and with orphans: Scythia mourns Our guilty wars, and earth's remotest regions |

1

Lie half unpeopled by the feuds of Rome. — |

"T is time to sheathe the sword, and spare mankind. |
It is not Cæsar, but the gods', my fathers, |
The gods declare against us, and repel

Our vain attempts. To urge the foe to battle, |
Prompted by blind revenge, and wild despair, |
Were to refuse the awards of providence," |
And not to rest in heav'n's determination. |
Already have we shown our love to Rome,-|
Now, let us show submission to the gods. |
We took up arms, not to revenge' ourselves. |
But free the com monwealth: when this end fails, |
Arms have no further use. Our country's cause, |
That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands,
And bids us not delight in Roman blood, |
Unprofitably shed. What men could do, |

Is done already

If Rome must fall,

heaven, and earth will witness, |
that we are innocent. |

Semp. This smooth discourse, and mild behavior, oft Conceal a traitor something whispers me

All is not right. Cato, beware of Lucius. I

[Aside to Cato.

Cato. Let us be neither rash nor diffident — |
Immod'rate valor swells into a fault; i
And fear, admitted into public councils,
Betrays like treason. Let us shun them both. |
Fathers, I cannot see that our affairs
Are grown thus desp'rate

round us: 1

we have bulwarks'

Within our walls, are troops, inured to toil
In Afric's heat,' and season'd to the sun-
Numidia's spacious kingdom lies behind us,
Ready to rise at its young prince's call.

• Prov'è-dèns; not prov'ur-dunce.

Bål'wůrks.

While there is hope, do not distrust the gods; }
But wait. at least, till Cæsar's near approach |
Force us to yield. 'T will never be too late |
To sue for chains, and own a conqueror. [
Why should Rome fall a moment ere her time? |
No, let us draw her term of freedom out |
In its full length, and spin it to the last
So shall we gain still one day's liberty: |
And let me perish, but in Cato's judgment, }
A day, an hour', of virtuous liberty, i
Is worth a whole eternity in bondage. ]

[Enter MARCUS.]

Marc. Fathers, this moment, as I watch'd the gate, | Lodg'd on my post, a herald is arriv'd

From Cæsar's camp; and with him, comes old De'cius,
The Roman knight he carries in his looks
Impatience, and demands to speak with Cato. |
Cato. By your permission, fathers

bid him enter. I

[Exit Marcus.

Decius was once my friend; but other prospects Have loos'd those ties, and bound him fast to Cæsar. | His message may determine our resolves. |

[Enter DECIUS.]

Dec. Cæsar sends health to Ca'to. |

Cato.

Could he send it

To Cato's slaughter'd friends, it would be welcome. | Are not your orders to address the senate? |

Dec. My business is with Ca'to. | Cæsar sees The straits to which you 're driven; and, as he knows Cato's high worth, is anxious for your life. |

Cato. My life is grafted on the fate of Rome'. | Would he save Cato, bid him spare his country. | Tell your dictator this - ' and tell him too, | Cato Disdains a life which he has power to offer. |

Dec. Rome, and her senators submit to Cæsar; ¦ Her generals, and her consuls are no more, |

Who check'd his conquests, and denied his triumphs. | Why will not Ca'to be this Cæsar's friend? |

Cato. Those very reasons thou hast urg'd, forbid it. |
Dec. Cato, I have orders to expostulate, |

And reason with you, as from friend to friend ; |
Think on the storm that gathers o'er your head,
And threatens ev'ry hour to burst upon it; |
Still may you stand high in your country's hon'ors,-¡
Do but comply, and make your peace with Cæsar, |
Rome will rejoice', and cast its eyes on Cato, |
As on the second of mankind. |

Cato.

No more

I must not think of life on such conditions. |

Dec. Cæsar is well acquainted with your virtues, And therefore sets this value on your life. |

Let him but know the price of Cato's friendship, |
And name your terms.

Cato.
Restore the commonwealth to liberty, |
Submit his actions to the public censure, |

Bid him disband his legions, |

And stand the judgment of a Roman senate. !
Let him do this, and Cato is his friend. |

Dec. Cato, the world talks loudly of your wisdom-| Cato. Nay, more' though Cato's voice | was ne'er employ'd

To clear the guilty, and to varnish crimes, |
Myself will mount the rostrum in his fa'vor, |
And strive to gain his pardon from the people. |
Dec. A style like this becomes a conqueror. |
Cato. Decius, a style like this, becomes a Ro'man. |
Dec. What is a Roman, that is Cæsar's foe?
Cato. Greater than Cæsar: he's a friend to virtue. |
Dec. Consider, Cato, you 're in Utica, |

And at the head of your own little senate; |

You don't now thunder in the Capitol, |

With all the mouths of Rome to second you. |

Cato. Let him consider that, who drives us hither. 'Tis Cæsar'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:
Didst thou but view him right, thou 'dst see him black
With murder, trea'son, 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 millions of worlds' |

Should never buy me to be like that Cæsar. |

Dee. Does Cato send this answer back to Cæsar, ! For all his generous cares, and proffer'd friendship? | Cato. His cares for me, are insolent, and vain'.| Presumptuous man! the gods' take care of Cato. | Would Cæsar show the greatness of his soul, Let him employ his care for these my friends'; | And make good use of his ill-gotten power, | By shelt'ring 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 embassy,
All Rome, will be in tears. |

[Exit.

Semp. Cato, we thank' thee., The mighty genius of immortal Rome, I Speaks in thy voice: thy soul breathes lib'erty. | Caesar will shrink to hear the words thou utter'st, | And shudder in the midst of all his conquests. | Luc. The senate owes its gratitude to Cato Who, with so great a soul, consults its safety, | And guards our lives, while he neglects his own. | Semp. Sempronius 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 :| "T is to be free'. When liberty is gone, | Life grows insipid, and has lost its relish.!

O could my dying hand but lodge a sword