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Enter LUCIA.

LUCIA.

Where is your father, Marcia, where is Cato?
MARCIA.

-Lucia, fpeak low; he is retir'd to reft.
Lucia, I feel a gently-dawning hope
Rife in my foul. We shall be happy still.

LUCIA.

Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato.
In every view, in every thought, I tremble!
Cato is ftern, and awful as a god;

He knows not how to wink at human frailty,
Or pardon weakness, that he never felt.

MARCIA.

Though ftern and awful to the foes of Rome, He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild, Compaffionate, and gentle to his friends. Fill'd with domeftic tenderness, the beft, The kindeft father! I have ever found him Eafy and good, and bounteous to my wishes..

LUCIA.

'Tis his confent alone can make us blefs'd.
Marcia, we both are equally involv'd
In the fame intricate, perplex'd, distress.
The cruel hand of fate, that has deftroy'd

Thy brother Marcus, whom we both lament

MARCIA.

And ever fhall lament, unhappy youth!

LUCIA.

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Has fet my foul at large, and now I stand Loose of my vow. But who knows Cato's thoughts? Who knows how yet he may difpofe of Portius, Or how he has determin'd of thyself?

MARCIA.

Let him but live! commit the reft to heaven.

Enter LUCIUS.

LUCIUS.

Sweet are the flumbers of the virtuous man!

O Marcia, I have seen thy godlike father:

Some power invisible supports his foul,

And bears it up in all its wonted greatnefs.
A kind refreshing fleep is fall'n upon him :
I faw him ftretch'd at ease, his fancy lost
In pleafing dreams; as I drew near his couch,
He fmil'd, and cry'd, Cæfar, thou canst not hurt me!

MARCI A.

His mind still labours with fome dreadful thought.

LUCIUS.

Lucia, why all this grief, these floods of forrow? Dry up thy tears, my child; we all are safe While Cato lives-his prefence will protect us.

Enter JUBA.
JUBA.

Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from viewing The number, strength, and posture of our foes, Who now encamp within a short hour's march.

On

On the high point of yon bright western tower
We ken them from afar; the fetting fun

Plays on their fhining arms and burnish'd helmets,
And covers all the field with gleams of fire.

LUCIUS.

Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father. Cæfar is ftill difpos'd to give us terms,

And waits at diftance 'till he hears from Cato.

Enter PORTIUS.

Portius, thy looks speak somewhat of importance.
What tidings doft thou bring? Methinks I fee
Unusual gladness sparkling in thy eyes.

PORTIU S.

As I was hafting to the port, where now My father's friends, impatient for a paffage, Accufe the lingering winds, a fail arriv'd

From Pompey's fon, who through the realms of Spain Calls out for vengeance on his father's death,

And rouzes the whole nation up to arms.

Were Cato at their head, once more might Rome

Affert her rights, and claim her liberty.

But hark! what means that groan? O give me way, And let me fly into my father's prefence.

LUCIUS.

Cato, amidst his flumbers, thinks on Rome,
And in the wild diforder of his foul

Mourns o'er his country; ha! a fecond groan l
Heaven guard us all !—

5

MARCIA,

MARCI A.

Alas! 'tis not the voice

Of one who fleeps! 'tis agonizing pain,

'Tis death is in that found

Re-enter PORTIUS.

PORTIU S.

O fight of woe!

O Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass!
Cato is fall'n upon his fword-

LUCIUS.

O Portius,

Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale,

And let us guess the rest.

PORTIUS.

I've rais'd him up,

And plac'd him in his chair, where, pale and faint, He gafps for breath, and, as his life flows from him, Demands to fee his friends. His weeping fervants, Obfequious to his orders, bear him hither.

[The back Scene opens, and discovers CATO.

MARCIA.

O heaven, affift me in this dreadful hour

To pay the last fad duties to

my father!

JUBA.

These are thy triumphs, thy exploits, O Cæfar!

LUCIUS.

Now is Rome fall'n indeed !—

[CATO brought forward in bis chair.

CATO.

ortius, come near me

337

Here fet me down

are my friends embark'd?

Can any thing be thought of for their fervice?
Vhilft I yet live, let me not live in vain.

-O Lucius, art thou here?Thou art too good!→→→
Let this our friendship live between our children;
Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia.
Alas poor man, he weeps !-Marcia, my daughter-
-O bend me forward!-Juba loves thee, Marcia.
A Senator of Rome, while Rome furviv'd,

Would not have match'd his daughter with a king,
But Cæfar's arms have thrown down all distinction;
Whoe'er is brave and virtuous, is a Roman

—I 'm fick to death-O when fhall I get loose
From this vain world, th' abode of guilt and forrow!-
-And yet methinks a beam of light breaks in
On my departing foul. Alas, I fear

I've been too hafty. O ye powers, that fearch
The heart of man, and weigh his inmoft thoughts,
If I have done amifs, impute it not !-

The best may err, but you are good, and-o [Dies.

LUCIUS.

There fled the greatest soul that ever wärm'd A Roman breast. O Cato! O my friend! Thy will fhall be religioufly obferv'd.

But let us bear this awful corpfe to Cæsar,

And lay it in his fight, that it ftand

may

A fence betwixt us and the victor's wrath;
Cate, though dead, fhall ftill protect his friends.

Z

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