Page:Cato, a tragedy (Addison, 1712).djvu/58

Enter Juba.
Jub.I blush, and am confounded to appear
Before thy presence, Cato.

Cato. What's thy crime?
 
Jub. I'm a Numidian.
 
Cato.And a brave one too.
Thou hast a Roman soul.

Jub. Hast thou not heard
Of my false country-men?

Cato. Alas, young Prince,
Falshood and fraud shoot up in ev'ry soil,
The product of all climes———Rome has its Cesars.
 
Jub. 'Tis generous thus to comfort the distrest.

Cato. 'Tis just to give applause where 'tis deserv'd.
Thy virtue, Prince, has stood the test of fortune,
Like purest gold, that, tortur'd in the furnace,
Comes out more bright, and brings forth all its weight.

Jub. What shall I answer thee? my ravish'd heart
O'erflows with secret joy: I'd rather gain
Thy praise, O Cato, than Numidia's. empire

Re-enter Portius.
Por. Misfortune on misfortune! grief on grief!
My brother Marcus———

Cato. Hah! what has he done?
Has he forsook his post? hath he giv'n way?
Did he look tamely on, and let 'em 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 with multitudes he greatly fell.
 
Cato. I'm satisfied.
 
Por. Not did he fall before.
His sword had pierc'd through 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 thy gods! my boy has done his duty.
———Portius, when I am dead, be sure thou place
His urn near mine.