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CATO.
When first you rous'd him to the chace! I've seen you
Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down,
Then charge him close, provoke him to the rage
Of fangs and claws, and stooping from your horse
Rivet the panting savage to the ground.
Jub.Pr'ythee, no more!
Syph.How would the old King smile,
To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with gold,
And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoulders!
Jub.Syphax, this old man's talk, (tho' honey flow'd
In ev'ry word) wou'd now lose all its sweetness.
Cato's displeas'd, and Marcia lost for ever!
Syph.Young Prince, I yet cou'd give you good advice.
Marcia might still be yours.
Jub.What sayst thou, Syphax?
By heav'ns thou turn'st me all into attention.
Syph.Marcia might still be yours.
Jub.As how, dear Syphax?
Syph.Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,
Mounted on steeds, unus'd to the restraint
Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:
Give but the word, we'll snatch this damsel up,
And bear her off.
Jub.Can such dishonest thoughts
Rise up in man! wouldst thou seduce my youth
To do an act that wou'd destroy my honour!
Syph.Gods, I cou'd tear my beard to hear you talk!
Honour's a fine imaginary notion,
That draws in raw and inexperienc'd men
To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.
Jub.Wou'dst thou degrade thy Prince into a ruffian?
Syph.The boasted ancestors of these great men,
Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruffians!
This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,
That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds
All under heav'n, was founded on a rape.
Your Scipios, Cesars, Pompeys, and your Catos,
(These gods on earth), are all the spurious brood
Of violated maids, of ravish'd Sabines.
Jub.Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine
Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles.
Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down,
Then charge him close, provoke him to the rage
Of fangs and claws, and stooping from your horse
Rivet the panting savage to the ground.
Jub.Pr'ythee, no more!
Syph.How would the old King smile,
To see you weigh the paws, when tipp'd with gold,
And throw the shaggy spoils about your shoulders!
Jub.Syphax, this old man's talk, (tho' honey flow'd
In ev'ry word) wou'd now lose all its sweetness.
Cato's displeas'd, and Marcia lost for ever!
Syph.Young Prince, I yet cou'd give you good advice.
Marcia might still be yours.
Jub.What sayst thou, Syphax?
By heav'ns thou turn'st me all into attention.
Syph.Marcia might still be yours.
Jub.As how, dear Syphax?
Syph.Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops,
Mounted on steeds, unus'd to the restraint
Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds:
Give but the word, we'll snatch this damsel up,
And bear her off.
Jub.Can such dishonest thoughts
Rise up in man! wouldst thou seduce my youth
To do an act that wou'd destroy my honour!
Syph.Gods, I cou'd tear my beard to hear you talk!
Honour's a fine imaginary notion,
That draws in raw and inexperienc'd men
To real mischiefs, while they hunt a shadow.
Jub.Wou'dst thou degrade thy Prince into a ruffian?
Syph.The boasted ancestors of these great men,
Whose virtues you admire, were all such ruffians!
This dread of nations, this almighty Rome,
That comprehends in her wide empire's bounds
All under heav'n, was founded on a rape.
Your Scipios, Cesars, Pompeys, and your Catos,
(These gods on earth), are all the spurious brood
Of violated maids, of ravish'd Sabines.
Jub.Syphax, I fear that hoary head of thine
Abounds too much in our Numidian wiles.
Syph
