Cato A Tragedy, in Five Acts

by Joseph Addison

Cato. Where are those bold, intrepid sons of war, That greatly turn their backs upon the foe, And to their general send a brave defiance? Sem. Curse on their dastard souls, they stand astonish'd! [Aside. Cato. Perfidious men! And will you thus dishonour Your past exploits, and sully all your wars? Why could not Cato fall Without your guilt! Behold, ungrateful men, Behold my bosom naked to your swords, And let the man that's injured strike the blow. Which of you all suspects that he is wrong'd, Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato? Am I distinguished from you but by toils, Superior toils, and heavier weight of cares? Painful pre-eminence! Sem. Confusion to the villains! all is lost! [Aside. Cato. Have you forgotten Lybia's burning waste, Its barren rocks, parch'd earth, and hills of sand, Its tainted air, and all its broods of poison? Who was the first to explore th' untrodden path, When life was hazarded in ev'ry step? Or, fainting in the long laborious march, When, on the banks of an unlook'd-for stream, You sunk the river with repeated draughts, Who was the last of all your host who thirsted? Sem. Did not his temples glow In the same sultry winds and scorching heats? Cato. Hence, worthless men! hence! and complain to Cæsar, You could not undergo the toil of war, Nor bear the hardships that your leader bore.