DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. MEN. CATO, LUCIUS, a Senator, SEMPRONIUS, A Senator, JUBA, Prince of Numidia, Мк. Воотн. MR. KEEN. MR. MILLS. MR. WILKS. STYPHAX, General of the Numidians, MR. CIBBER. PORTIUS, MARCUS, Sons of Cato, DECIUS, Ambassador from Cæsar, Mutineers, Guards, &c. MR. POWELL. MR. RYAN. MR. BOWMAN. WOMEN. MARCIA, Daughter to Cato, LUCIA, Daughter to Lucius, MRS. OLDFIELD. MRS. PORTER. SCENE, A large Hall in the Governor's Palace of Utica. ACT I.1-SCENE I. POR. THE dawn is overcast, the morning lowers, 1 While the present humour of idolizing Shakspeare continues, no quarter will be given to this poem; though it be the master-piece of the author, and was the pride of the age in which it was written. But a time will come, when, not as a tragedy, indeed, (for which the subject was unfit,) but as a work of art and taste, it will be supremely admired by all candid and judicious critics. 2 This opening of the drama is too solemn and declamatory. The author speaks, not his "Persona dramatis." Horace has given a caution against this misconduct, in his ridicule of "Fortunam Priami cantabo, et nobile bellum," which was addressed to the tragic, as well as epic poet. MAR. Should he go further, numbers would be wanting Among your works! Thy steady temper, Portius,1 Can look on guilt, rebellion, fraud, and Cæsar, The insulting tyrant, prancing o'er the field Strowed with Rome's citizens, and drenched in slaughter, His horse's hoofs wet with Patrician blood! Oh, Portius! is there not some chosen curse, Some hidden thunder in the stores of heaven, Red with uncommon wrath, to blast the man Who owes his greatness to his country's ruin? POR. Believe me, Marcus, 'tis an impious greatness, And mixt with too much horror to be envied. How does the lustre of our father's actions, Through the dark cloud of ills that cover him, Break out, and burn with more triumphant brightness! His sufferings shine, and spread a glory round him; Greatly unfortunate, he fights the cause Of honour, virtue, liberty, and Rome. His sword ne'er fell but on the guilty head; Oppression, tyranny, and power usurped, Draw all the vengeance of his arm upon 'em. MAR. Who knows not this? but what can Cato do Against a world, a base, degenerate world, That courts the yoke, and bows the neck to Cæsar? Pent up in Utica he vainly forms A poor epitome of Roman greatness, And, covered with Numidian guards, directs A feeble army, and an empty senate, Remnants of mighty battles fought in vain. By heavens, such virtues, joined with such success, Distract my very soul: our father's fortune Would almost tempt us to renounce his precepts. This a little palliates the indecorum, just now observed; and may let us see that the poet himself was aware of it (so exact was his taste); but it does not wholly excuse it. POR. Remember what our father oft has told us : MAR. These are suggestions of a mind at ease : Oh, Portius! didst thou taste but half the griefs POR. Thou seest not that thy brother is thy rival: But I must hide it, for I know thy temper. [Aside. Now, Marcus, now, thy virtue 's on the proof: MAR. Portius, the counsel which I cannot take, V Instead of healing, but upbraids my weakness. Of thickest foes, and rush on certain death, Then shalt thou see that Marcus is not slow To follow glory, and confess his father. Love is not to be reasoned down, or lost POR. Behold young Juba, the Numidian prince! But still the smothered fondness burns within him. 1 A strange, unnatural phrase: which yet hath made its fortune in modern tragedy. Besides, if these words have any meaning, it was ridiculous to add " and aggravate my other griefs." When most it swells, and labours for a vent, MAR. Portius, no more! your words leave stings behind 'em. And thrown me out in the pursuits of honour? POR. Marcus, I know thy generous temper well; Ev'n whilst I speak-Do they not swim in tears? MAR. Why then dost treat me with rebukes, instead POR. O Marcus! did I know the way to ease MAR. Thou best of brothers, and thou best of friends! SCENE II. SEMPRONIUS, PORTIUS. SEM. Conspiracies no sooner should be formed [Aside. Than executed. What means Portius here? 1 Cold youth.] Finely observed. Men of cold passions have quick eyes, and are no fit company for such men as Sempronius, whether they speak from the heart, or dissemble: hence the indignant reproof of his passion, and the abrupt departure from his flatteries. To-morrow should we thus express our friendship, This sun, perhaps, this morning sun's the last, POR. My father has this morning called together SEM. Not all the pomp and majesty of Rome To thy friend's vows, I might be blessed indeed! POR. Alas! Sempronius, wouldst thou talk of love SEM. The more I see the wonders of thy race, [Portius! The more I'm charmed. Thou must take heed, my The world has all its eyes on Cato's son. Thy father's merit sets thee up to view, And shows thee in the fairest point of light, To make thy virtues, or thy faults, conspicuous. POR. Well dost thou seem to check my lingering here On this important hour!-I'll straight away, And while the fathers of the senate meet In close debate to weigh the events of war, I'll animate the soldiers' drooping courage, With love of freedom, and contempt of life: I'll thunder in their ears their country's cause, And try to rouse up all that's Roman in 'em. 'Tis not in mortals to command success, But we 'll do more, Sempronius; we 'll deserve it. [Exit. 1 Wonderfully exact, both in the sentiment and expression. The imagery, too, is in character; the speaker being a person of the purest virtue, and a Roman. |