Rise, fathers, rise! 'tis Rome demands your help; Rise, and revenge her slaughter'd citizens, Or share their fate!— To battle! Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow; And Scipio's ghost walks unrevenged amongst us. Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason; True fortitude is seen in great exploits, That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides; All else is tow'ring phrensy and distraction. Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion. Luc. My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace. Already have our quarrels fill'd the world
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