O fortunate mistake!

JUBA.

MARCI A.

O happy Marcia !

JUBA.

My joy! my best belov'd! my only wish! How shall I speak the transport of my soul !

MARCIA.

Lucia, thy arm! oh let me reft upon it!--
The vital blood, that had forfook my heart,
Returns again in fuch tumultuous tides,
It quite o'ercomes me.

Lead to my apartment.

O prince! I blush to think what I have faid,
But fate has wrefted the confeffion from me :
Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour,
Thy virtue will excuse my paffion for thee,
And make the gods propitious to our love.

[Ex. MARC. and Luc.

JUBA.

I am fo blefs'd, I fear 'tis all a dream. Fortune, thou now haft made amends for all Thy past unkindness. I abfolve my ftars. What though Numidia add her conquer'd towns And provinces to swell the victor's triumph?

Juba will never at his fate repine,

Let Cæfar have the world, if Marcia 's mine. [Exit.

A

A march at a distance.

Enter CATO and LUCIUS.

LUCIU S.

J ftand astonish'd! what, the bold Sempronius! That ftill broke foremost through the croud of patriots, As with a hurricane of zeal transported,

And virtuous ev'n to madness----

САТО.

Trust me, Lucius,

Our civil difcords have produced fuch crimes,
Such monstrous crimes, I am furpriz'd at nothing.

----

-O Lucius, I am fick of this bad world! The day-light and the fun grow painful to me.

Enter PORTIUS.

But fee where Portius comes! what means this hafte ? Why are thy looks thus chang'd?

PORTIU S.

My heart is griev'd.

I bring fuch news as will afflict my father.

САТО.

Has Cæfar fhed more Roman blood?

PORTIU S.

Not fo,

The traitor Syphax, as within the square
He exerciz'd his troops, the fignal given,
Flew off at once with his Numidian horfe

To the fouth gate, where Marcus holds the watch.
I faw, and call'd to ftop him, but in vain ;
He tofs'd his arm aloft, and proudly told me,
He would not stay and perish like Sempronius.

САТО.

Perfidious men! but hafte my fon, and fee Thy brother Marcus acts a Roman's part.

[Exit PORTIUS. -Lucius, the torrent bears too hard upon me: Juftice gives way to force: the conquer'd world Is Cæfar's: Cato has no business in it.

LUCIU S.

While pride, oppreffion, and injuftice reign, The world will still demand her Cato's prefence. In pity to mankind, fubmit to Cæfar,

And reconcile thy mighty foul to life.

САТО.

Would Lucius have me live to fwell the number

Of Cæfar's flaves, or by a base submission
Give up the cause of Rome, and own a tyrant?

LUCIUS.

The victor never will impofe on Cato Ungenerous terms. His enemies confefs The virtues of humanity are Cæfar's.

САТО.

Curfe on his virtues! they've undone his country.

Such popular humanity is treason

But fee young Juba! the good youth appears

Full of the guilt of his perfidious fubjects.

LUCIUS.

LUCIU S.

Alas, poor prince! his fate deferves compaffion.

Enter JUBA.

JUBA.

I blush, and am confounded to appear

Before thy prefence, Cato.

Alas! young prince,

up in every foil,

The product of all climes--Rome has its Cæfars.

JUBA.

'Tis generous thus to comfort the diftrefs'd.

САТО.

'Tis juft to give applause where 'tis deferv'd; Thy virtue, prince, has stood the test of fortune, Like pureft gold, that, tortur'd in the furnace, Comes out more bright, and brings forth all its weight.

JUBA.

What fhall I anfwer thee ? my ravish'd heart
O'erflows with fecret joy: I'd rather gain
Thy praife, O Cato, than Numidia's empire.

Enter PORTIUS haftily.

PORTIU S.

Misfortune on misfortune! grief on grief! My brother Marcus

САТО.

Ha! what has he done?

Has he forfook his poft? has he given way ?
Did he look tamely on, and let them pass?

PORTIUS.

Scarce had I left my father, but I met him
Borne on the fhields of his furviving foldiers,
Breathless and pale, and cover'd o'er with wounds.
Long, at the head of his few faithful friends,
He stood the fhock of a whole host of foes,
Till, obftinately brave, and bent on death,
Oppreft with multitudes, he greatly fell.

САТО.

I'm fatisfy'd.

PORTIUS.

Nor did he fall before

His fword had pierc'd through the false heart of Syphax: Yonder he lies. I faw the hoary traitor

Grin in the pangs of death, and bite the ground.

САТО.