'ee with what Glorious Scorn the CheifeDisdains A Roman must not be a Romans Iord To Save his life and link his Country's Chaines

He's master of himself whilft mafter of his Sue

His Sword was allways Drawn for Liberty Pent up in Utica and Remote from home

Nor must be Sheath'd Untill Its Mafters free ato's a.Roman tho Excluded Rome

He Conquers Falling and Triumphing Dyes h his soul all Servile Acts Abhor'd And Cesar Views his End with Envious Eve

A

TRAGEDY.

As it is Acted at the

THEATRE-ROYAL in Drury-Lane,

BY

Her MAJESTY's Servants.

By Mr. ADDISON.

Esce Spectaculum dignum, ad quod refpiciat, intentus operi fuo,

Deus! Ecce par Deo dignum, vir fortis cum mala fortunâ
compofitus! Non video, inquam, quid habeat in terris Jupi-
ter pulchrius, si converteré animum velit, quàm ut fpeétet
Catonem, jam partibus non femel fractis, nihilominùs inter ru.
inas publicas eretum.

Sen. de Divin. Prov.

L O N D ON:
Printed for 1. Tonson, at Shakespear's Head over-
against Catherine-Street in the Strand. MDCCXIII.

PRO LO GUE,

By Mr. P O P E.

Spoken by Mr. Wilks.

T

O wake the Soul by tender Strokes of Art,

To raise the Genius, and to mend the Heart,
To make Mankind in conscious Virtue bold,
Live o'er each Scene, and Be what they behold:
For this the Tragic-Mufe first trod the Stage,
Commanding Tears to stream thro' every Age;
Tyrants no more their Savage Nature kept,
And Foes to Virtue wonder'd how they wept.
Our Author fauns by. vulgar Springt to move
The Hero's Glory, or the Virgin's Love;
In pitying Love we but our Weakness show,
And wild Ambition well deserves its Woe.
Here Tears shall flow from a more gen'rous Cause,
Such Tears as Patriots shed for dying Laws :

He:

He bids your Breafts with Ancient Ardor rife,
And calls forth Roman Drops from Britilh Eyes.
Virtue confess'd in human Shape he draws,
What Plato Thought, and God-like Cato Was:
No common Object to your Sight displays,
But what with Pleasure Heav'n it self surveys ;
A brave Man struggling in the Storms of Fate,
And greatly falling with a falling State!
While Cato gives bis little Senate Laws,
What Bofom beats not in his Country's Cause?
Who fes him act, but envies ev'ry Deed?
Who hears him groan, and does not wish to bleed?
Evin when proud Cæsar ’midst triumphal Cars,
The Spoils of Nations, and the Pomp of Wars,
Ignobly Vain, and impotently Great,
Show'd Rome her Cato's Figure drawn in State;
As her dead Father's rev'rend Image past,
The Pomp was darken'd, and the Day o'ercast,
The Triumph ceas'd-Tears gush'd from ev'rgy Eye;
The World's great Vietor past unheeded by ;
Her Last good Man dejected Rome ador’d,
and honour'd Cæsar's less than Cato's Sword.

Britains attend : Be Worth like this approv'd,
And show you have the Virtue to be mov’d.
With honest Scorn the first fam'd Cato view'd
Rome learning Arts from Greecs, whom she subdu'd;

Our