_Cato._ Thy nobleness of soul obliges me. But know, young prince, that valour soars above What the world calls misfortune and affliction. These are not ills; else would they never fall On Heav'n's first fav'rites, and the best of men. The gods, in bounty, work up storms about us, That give mankind occasion to exert Their hidden strength, and throw out into practice Virtues, which shun the day, and lie conceal'd In the smooth seasons and the calms of life. _Jub._ I'm charm'd, whene'er thou talk'st; I pant for virtue, And all my soul endeavours at perfection. _Cato._ Dost thou love watchings, abstinence, and toil, Laborious virtues all? Learn them from Cato; Success and fortune must thou learn from Caesar. _Jub._ The best good fortune that can fall on Juba, The whole success at which my heart aspires, Depends on Cato. _Cato._ What does Juba say? Thy words confound me. _Jub._ I would fain retract them. Give them me back again: they aimed at nothing. _Cato._ Tell me thy wish, young prince; make not my ear A stranger to thy thoughts. _Jub._ Oh! they're extravagant; Still let me hide them. _Cato._ What can Juba ask, That Cato will refuse? _Jub._ I fear to name it. Marcia--inherits all her father's virtues. _Cato._ What wouldst thou say? _Jub._ Cato, thou hast a daughter. _Cato._ Adieu, young prince; I would not hear a word Should lessen thee in my esteem. Remember, The hand of fate is over us, and Heav'n Exacts severity from all our thoughts. It is not now a time to talk of aught But chains or conquest, liberty or death. [_Exit._ _Enter_ SYPHAX. _Syph._ How's this, my prince? What, cover'd with confusion? You look as if yon stern philosopher Had just now chid you. _Jub._ Syphax, I'm undone! _Syph._ I know it well. _Jub._ Cato thinks meanly of me. _Syph._ And so will all mankind. _Jub._ I've open'd to him The weakness of my soul--my love for Marcia. _Syph._ Cato's a proper person to intrust A love-tale with! _Jub._ Oh, I could pierce my heart, My foolish heart! _Syph._ Alas, my prince, how are you changed of late! I've known young Juba rise before the sun, To beat the thicket where the tiger slept, Or seek the lion in his dreadful haunts. I've seen you, Ev'n in the Lybian dog-days, hunt him down, Then charge him close, 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, though honey flow'd In ev'ry word, would now lose all its sweetness. Cato's displeased, and Marcia lost for ever. _Syph._ Young prince, I yet could give you good advice; Marcia might still be yours. _Jub._ As how, dear Syphax? _Syph._ Juba commands Numidia's hardy troops, Mounted on steeds unused to the restraint Of curbs or bits, and fleeter than the winds: Give but the word, we snatch this damsel up, And bear her off.