But hold him up in life, and cheer his soul us Luc. No, Portius, no; I see thy sister's tears, Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death, In the pursuit of our ill-fated loves: And, Portius, here I swear, to Heaven I swear, To Heaven and all the powers that judge mankind, Never to mix my plighted hands with thine, Those hasty words, or I am lost for ever. Luc. Has not the vow already passed my lips? The gods have heard it, and 'tis sealed in Heaven. May all the vengeance, that was ever poured On perjured heads, o'erwhelin me, if I break it! Por. Fixed in astonishment, I gaze upon thee, Like one just blasted by a stroke from Heaven, Who pants for breath, and stiffens, yet alive, In dreadful looks; a monument of wrath! Luc. At length I've acted my severest part;' I feel the woman breaking in upon me, And melt about my heart; my tears will flow. But, oh, I'll think no more! the hand of fate Has torn thee from me, and I must forget thee. Por. Hard-hearted, cruel maid! Luc. Oh, stop those sounds, Those killing sounds! Why dost thou frown upon me? My blood runs cold, my heart forgets to heave, I've been deluded, led into a dream But ah! she moves, life wanders up and down That lives upon thy smiles? To call in doubt Destruction stands betwixt us; we must part. Por. Name not the word! my frighted thoughts run back, And startle into madness at the sound. Luc. What wouldst thou have me do? Consider well The train of ills our love would draw behind it. Think, Portius, think thou seest thy dying brother Stabbed at his heart, and all besmeared with blood, Storming at Heaven and thee! Thy awful sire Sternly demands the cause, the accursed cause, That robs him of his son: poor Marcia trembles, Then tears her hair, and, frantic in her griefs, Calls out on Lucia. What could Lucia answer, Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow? Por. To my confusion, and eternal grief, I must approve the sentence that destroys me. The mist, that hung upon my mind, clears up; And now, athwart the terrors that thy vow Has planted round thee, thou appear'st more fair, More amiable, and risest in thy charms. Loveliest of women! Heaven is in thy soul; Beauty and virtue shine for ever round thee, Brightening each other: thou art all divine. Luc. Portius, no more; thy words shoot through my heart, Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love. sorrow? It softens me too much-farewell, my Portius; Farewell, though death is in the word-for ever. Por. Stay, Lucia, stay? What dost thou say? For ever? Luc. Have I not sworn? If, Portius, thy suc cess Must throw thy brother on his fate, farewellOh, how shall I repeat the word! for ever. 7 Por. Thus o'er the dying lamp the unsteady flame Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits, Luc. If the firm Portius shake To hear of parting, think what Lucia suffers! Por. 'Tis true, unruffled and serene, I've met The common accidents of life; but here Such an unlooked-for storm of ills falls on me, It beats down all my strength. I cannot bear it. We must not part. Luc. What dost thou say? Not part! -But see, thy brother Marcus bends this way: Enter MARCUS. Marc. Portius, what hopes? How stands she? To life or death? Por. What wouldst thou have me say? Like one amazed and terrified. Por. I've reason. Marc. Thy down-cast looks, and thy disorder- Tell me my fate. I ask not the success Por. I'm grieved I undertook it. Marc. What? does the barbarous maid insult My aching heart, and triumph in my pains? What is compassion, when 'tis void of love? Marc. What have I said! Oh, Portius, oh for- A soul, exasperated in ills, falls out With every thing, its friend, itself-but, hah! What means that shout, big with the sounds of war? What new alarm? Por. A second, louder yet, Swells in the wind, and comes more full upon us. Marc. Oh, for some glorious cause to fall in battle! Lucia, thou hast undone me; thy disdain Has broke my heart: 'tis death must give me ease. Por. Quick, let us hence. Who knows if Cato's life Stands sure? Oh, Marcus, I am warmed, my heart Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory. [Exeunt. Enter SEMPRONIUS, with the Leaders of the mutiny. Sem. At length the winds are raised, the storm Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up Till it has spent itself on Cato's head. Cato. Perfidious men! And will you thus dis- Your past exploits, and sully all your wars? Sem. By Heavens they droop! Scanty of waters, when you scooped it dry, Mean-while I'll herd amongst his friends, and You could not undergo the toil of war, seem Nor bear the hardships that your leader bore. ૨૧ Luc, See, Cato, see the unhappy men; they | To mix in treason, if the plot succeeds, Fear and remorse, and sorrow for their crime, And pardon shall descend to all the rest. Sem. Cato, commit these wretches to my care: Luc. Sempronius, why, why wilt thou urge the Of wretched men? Sem. How! wouldst thou clear rebellion? But, in their deaths, remember they are men; vous. Lucius, the base degenerate age requires This awes an impious, bold, offending world, Sem. Cato, I execute thy will with pleasure. [Exeunt Cato, &c. 1 Lead. Sempronius, you have acted like yourself. One would have thought you had been half in earnest. Sem. Villain, stand off, base, grovelling, worth less wretches, Mongrels in faction, poor faint-hearted traitors! They're thrown neglected by: but if it fails, To sudden death! 1 Lead, Nay, since it comes to this Sem. Dispatch them quick, but first pluck out Lest, with their dying breath, they sow sedition. Enter SYPHAX. Syph. Our first design, my friend, has proved Still there remains an after-game to play. And hew down all that would oppose our passage. Sem. Confusion! I have failed of half my pur Sem. Think not thy friend can ever feel the Unmanly warmth and tenderness of love. Syph. Well said! that's spoken like thyself, What hinders, then, but that thou find her out, Sem. But how to gain admission? For access The doors will open when Numidia's prince Seems to appear before the slaves that watch them. Sem. Heavens, what a thought is there! Mar- How will my bosom swell with anxious joy, 2 Lead. Nay, now you carry it too far, Sem-So Pluto seized of Proserpine, conveyed pronius; Throw off the mask; there are none here but friends. Sem. Know, villains, when such paltry slaves presume To hell's tremendous gloom the affrighted maid ; There grimly smiled, pleased with the beauteous prize, Nor envied Jove his sunshine and his skies. [Exeunt, ACT IV. SCENE I. Enter LUCIA and MARCIA. He must be murdered, and a passage cut Through those his guards-Ha! dastards, do you tremble; Luc. Now tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy Or act like men, or by yon azure heaven— soul, If thou believest 'tis possible for woman Mar. Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might my big swoln Vent all its griefs, and give a loose to sorrow, Marcia could answer thee in sighs, keep pace With all thy woes, and count out tear for tear. Luc. I know thou art doomed alike to be beloved By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius: But which of these has power to charin like Portius! Mar. Still I must beg thee not to name Sem- Lucia, I like not that loud boisterous man; Adds softest love, and more than female sweetness; Juba might make the proudest of our sex, Luc. And why not Marcia? Come, you strive To hide your thoughts from one who knows too well The inward glowings of a heart in love. Mar. While Cato lives, his daughter has no right To love or hate, but as his choice directs. Luc. But should this father give you to Sempronius? Mar. I dare not think he will: but if he shouldWhy wilt thou add, to all the griefs I suffer, Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures? I hear the sound of feet! They march this way: [Exeunt. Enter SEMPRONIUS, dressed like JUBA, with Numidian guards.. Sem. The deer is lodged, I've tracked her to her covert. Be sure you mind the word, and, when I give it, -How will the young Numidian rave to see 'tis he, 'Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left Enter JUBA. [Sem. falls. His guards surrender. Sem. Curse on my stars! Am I then doomed to fall By a boy's hand, disfigured in a vile Juba. With what a spring his furious soul broke loose, And left the limbs still quivering on the ground! Hence let us carry off those slaves to Cato, That we may there at length unravel all This dark design, this mystery of fate. [Erit Juba, with prisoners, &c. Enter LUCIA and MARCIA. Luc. Sure 'twas the clash of swords: my troubled heart Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows, Mar. Šee, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder! Ha! a Numidian! Heaven preserve the prince! Luc. Now, Marcia, now call up to thy assist ance Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind! Mar. Lucia, look there, and wonder at my patience; Have I not cause to rave, and beat my breast, To rend my heart with grief, and run distracted! Luc. What can I think or say to give thee comfort? happy. Luc. Here will I stand, companion in thy woes, Mar. 'Tis not in fate to ease my tortured breast; Mar. Oh, he was all made up of love and Whatever maid could wish, or man admire : To hear his virtues, and old age grew worse. Mar. Oh, Juba! Juba! Juba! Juba. What means that voice? Did she not call on Juba ? Mar. Why do I think on what he was! he's dead! He's dead, and never knew how much I loved Lucia, who knows but his poor bleeding heart, Juba. Where am I? Do I live? or am indeed Nor modesty nor virtue here forbid Juba. See, Marcia, see, I found thee weeping, and confess this once, Mar. I've been surprised in an unguarded hour, Its weak restraints, and burns in its full lustre. Mur. And dost thou live to ask it? Juba. This, this is life indeed! life worth preserving, Such life as Juba never felt 'till now! Mar. Believe me, prince, before I thought I did not know myself how much I loved thee. Mar. O happy Marcia! Juba. My joy, my best beloved, my only wish! How shall I speak the transport of my soul! Mar. Lucia, thy arın. Oh, let me rest upon it! The vital blood, that had forsook my heart, [Exeunt Mar. and Luc. Juba. I am so blest, I fear 'tis all a dream. [Exti. A march at a distance.-Enter CATO and Luc. I stand astonished! What, the bold That still broke foremost through the crowd of As with a hurricane of zeal transported, [Throwing himself before her. And virtuous even to madness— The happy Juba lives! He lives to catch Sure 'tis a dream! dead and alive at once! Juba. A wretch, Disguised like Juba on a cursed design, Cato. Trust me, Lucius, Our civil discords have produced such crimes, thing. -Oh, Lucius, I am sick of this bad world! Enter PORTIUS. But see where Portius comes: what means this haste? Why are thy looks thus changed? Por. My heart is grieved, I bring such news as will affect my father. |