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What new alarm?

Sem. Cato, commit these wretches to my care; [Shouts and Trumpels repeated. First let them each be broken on the rack, Por. A second, louder yet, Then, with what life remains, impal'd, and left To writhe at leisure, round the bloody stake; There let them hang, and taint the southern wind.

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

ease.

Por. Quick, let us hence. Cato's life

heart

Who knows

The partners of their crime will learn obedience. Cato. Forbear, Sempronius!-see they suffer

death,

me
But in their deaths remember they are men;
if Lucius, the base, degen'rate age requires
Severity.

Stands sure? Oh, Marcus, I am warm'd; my When by just vengeance guilty mortals perish,
The gods behold the punishment with pleasure,
And lay th' uplifted thunderbolt aside.

Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for

glory.

[Exeunt. Trumpets and shouting.

SCENE II.-Before the Senate-house. Enter SEMPRONIUS, with the Leaders of the Mutiny.

Sem. At length the winds are rais'd, the storm blows high!

Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up
In all its fury, and direct it right,
Till it has spent itself on Cato's head.
Mean while, I'll herd among his friends, and

seem

One of the number, that, whate'er arrive, My friends and fellow-soldiers may be safe.

[Exit. 1 Lead. We are all safe; Sempronius is our friend. [Trumpets. But, hark, Cato enters. Bear up boldly to him; Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast; This day will end our toils. Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.

Trumpets. Re-enter SEMPRONIUS, with CATO, LUCIUS, PORTIUS, MARCUS, and Guards. 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 injur'd strike the blow. Which of you all suspects that he is wrong'd, Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato? Am I distinguish'd 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. Hence, worthless men! hence! and complain to Caesar,

You could not undergo the toil of war,
Nor bear the hardships that your leader bore.
Luc. See, Cato, see the unhappy men! they
weep!

Fear and remorse, and sorrow for their crime,
Appear in ev'ry look, and plead for mercy.
Cato. Learn to be honest men, give up your
leaders,

And pardon shall descend on all the rest.

Sem. Cato, I execute thy will with pleasure. Cato. Mean while, we'll sacrifice to liberty. Remember, O my friends! the laws, the rights, The gen'rous plan of power deliver'd down From age to age by your renown'd forefathers (So dearly bought, the price of so much blood): Oh, let it never perish in your hands! But piously transmit it to your children. Do thou, great liberty, inspire our souls, And make our lives in thy possession happy, Or our deaths glorious in thy just defence. [Exeunt Cato, etc. 1 Lead. Sempronius, you have acted like yourself, One would have thought you had been half in earnest.

Sem. Villain, stand off; base, grov'ling, worthless wretches, Mongrels in faction, poor faint-hearted traitors! 2 Lead. Nay, now you carry it too far, Sempronius!

Throw off the mask, there are none here but

friends.

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Syph. Our first design, my friend, has prov'd abortive;

Still there remains an after-game to play;
My troops are mounted;

Let but Sempronius head us in our flight,
We'll force the gate where Marcus keeps his
guard,
And hew down all that would oppose our
passage.

A day will bring us into Caesar's camp. Sem. Confusion! I have fail'd of half my purpose:

Marcia, the charming Marcia's left behind! Syph. How! will Sempronius turn a woman's slave?

Sem. Think not thy friend can ever feel the soft

Unmanly warmth and tenderness of love.

'tis he,

barbarian.

Syphax, I long to clasp that haughty maid, 'Twould be to torture that young, gay
And bend her stubborn virtue to my passion:-But hark! what noise! Death to my hopes!
When I have gone thus far, I'd cast her off.
Syph. What hinders, then, but that thou Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left-
He must be murder'd, and a passage cut
Through those his guards.

find her out,

And hurry her away by manly force?

Sem. But how to gain admission? For access Is giv'n to none but Juba and her brothers. Syph. Thou shalt have Juba's dress and Ju

ba's guards;

Enter JUBA, with Guards.

Juba. What do I see? Who's this that dares usurp

The doors will open, when Numidia's prince The guards and habits of Numidia's prince? Seems to appear before the slaves that watch Sem. One that was born to scourge thy ar

them,
Sem. Heav'ns, what a thought is there! Mar-
cia's my own!

How will my bosom swell with anxious joy,
When I behold her struggling in my arms,
With glowing beauty, and disorder'd charms,
While fear and anger, with alternate grace,
Pant in her breast, and vary in her face!
So Pluto seiz'd off Proserpine, convey'd
To hell's tremendous gloom th' affrighted maid;
There grimly smil'd, pleas'd with the beauteous
prize,

[Exeunt.

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By a boy's hand, disfigur'd in a șile Numidian dress, and for a worthless woman? Nor envy'd Jove his sunshine and his skies. Gods, I'm distracted! this my close of life! Oh, for a peal of thunder, that would make Earth, sea, and air, and heav'n, and Cato tremble! [Dies. Juba. With what a spring his furious soul broke loose,

ACT IV.

SCENE L-A Chamber.

Enter LUCIA and Marcia.

Lucia. Now tell me, Marcia, tell me from And left the limbs still quiv'ring on the ground!

thy soul,

If thou believ'st 'tis possible for woman
To suffer greater ills than Lucia suffers?
Marcia. Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might my big

swoln heart

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.
Lucia. I know thou'rt doom'd alike to be

belov'd

Hence let us carry off those slaves to Cato,
That we may there at length unravel all
This dark design, this mystery of fate.

[Exit Juba; his Guards taking
those of Sempronius as Pri-

soners.

Enter LUCIA and MARCIA.

Lucia. Sure 'was the clash of swords; my troubled heart

By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius: Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows, But which of these has pow'r to charm like it throbs with fear, and aches at ev'ry sound. Portius? Oh, Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sakedie away with horror at the thought! Marcia. See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder!

Marcia. Still I must beg thee not to name
Sempronius.
Lucia, I like not that loud, boist'rous man.
Juba, to all the brav'ry of a hero,
Adds softest love and sweetness: he, I own,
Might make indeed the proudest woman happy.
Lucia. But should this father give you to
Sempronius?

Marcia. I dare not think he will: but if he
should--
Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer,
Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?
I hear the sound of feet! They march this way!
Let us retire, and try if we can drown
Each softer thought in sense of present danger:
When love once pleads admission to our hearts,
In spite of all the virtues we can boast,
The woman that deliberates is lost. [Exeunt.
Enter SEMPRONIUS, dressed like JUBA, with
Numidian Guards.

Sem. The deer is lodg'd, I've track'd her to
her covert.

Ha! a Numidian! Heav'n preserve the prince!
The face lies muffled up within the garment,
But, ah! death to my sight! a diadem,
And royal robes! O gods! 'tis he, 'tis he!
Juba lies dead before us!

Lucia. Now, Marcia, now call up to thy
assistance

Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind;
Thou canst not put it to a greater trial.

Marcia. 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?
Lucia. What can I think, or say, to give

thee comfort?

Marcia. Talk not of comfort; 'tis for lighter ills: Behold a sight that strikes all comfort dead.

Enter JUBA, unperceived.

Be sure you mind the word, and, when I give it, I will indulge my sorrows, and give way
Rush in at once, and seize upon your prey. To all the pangs and fury of despair;
How will the young Numidian rave to see That man, that best of men deserv'd it from me.
His mistress lost! If aught could glad my soul, Juba. What do I hear? and was the false
Beyond th' enjoyment of so bright a prize,

Sempronius

That best of men? Oh, had I fall'u like him, That still broke foremost through the crowd And could have been thus mourn'd, I had of patriots,

been happy.

[Aside. As with a hurricane of zeal transported, Marcia. Tis not in fate to ease my tortur'd And virtuous ev'n to madness

breast.

Oh, he was all made up of love and charms!
Whatever maid could wish, or man admire:
Delight of ev'ry eye; when he appear'd,
A secret pleasure gladden'd all that saw him.
Oh, Juba, Juba!

Juba. What means that voice? Did she not call on Juba?

Cato. Trust me, Lucius,

Our civil discords have produc'd such crimes, Such monstrous crimes, I am surpris'd at nothing. -Oh, Lucius, I am sick of this bad world! The daylight and the sun grow painful to me.

[Aside. But see Marcia. He's dead, and never knew how much I lov'd him;

Enter PORTIUS.

where Portius comes: what means this haste? Why are thy looks thus chang'd? Por. My heart is griev'd: bring such news as will afflict

I

father.

my Cato. Has Caesar shed more Roman blood? Por. Not so.

Lucia, who knows but his poor, bleeding heart,
Amidst its agonies, remember'd Marcia,
And the last words he utter'd call'd me cruel!
Alas! he knew not, hapless youth, he knew not
Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba! The traitor Syphax, as within the square
Juba. Where am I? Do I live? or am indeed He exercis'd his troops, the signal giv'n,
What Marcia thinks? All is Elysium round me! Flew off at once with his Numidian horse
[Aside. To the south gate, where Marcus holds the

Marcia. Ye dear remains of the most lov'd

of men,

Nor modesty nor virtue here forbid
A last embrace, while thus-
Juba. See, Marcia, see,

[Throwing himself before her. The happy Juba lives! he lives to catch That dear embrace, and to return it too With mutual warmth and eagerness of love. Marcia. With pleasure and amaze I stand transported!

If thou art Juba, who lies there?
Juba. A wretch,

Disguis'd like Juba on a curs'd design.
I could not bear

To leave thee in the neighbourhood of death,
But flew, in all the haste of love, to find thee;
I found thee weeping, and confess this once,
Am rapt with joy, to see my Marcia's tears.
Marcia. I've been surpris'd in an unguarded
hour,

But must not now go back; the love, that lay Half-smother'd in my breast, has broke through all Its weak restraints, and burns in its full lustre. I cannot, if I would, conceal it from thee. Juba. My joy, my best belov'd, my only wish! How shall I speak the transport of my soul? Marcia. Lucia, thy arm. Lead to my apart

ment.

Oh, prince! I blush to think what I have said, But fate has wrested the confession from me; Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour. Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee, And make the gods propitious to our love.

[Exeunt Marcia and Lucia. Juba. I am so blest, I fear 'tis all a dream. Fortune, thou now hast made amends for all Thy past unkindness: I absolve my stars. What though Numidia add her conquer'd towns And provinces to swell the victor's triumph, Juba will never at his fate repine:

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

SCENE II.-Before the Palace. A March at a Distance.

Enter CATO and LUCIUS.

Sempronius,

watch;

I saw, and call'd to stop him, but in vain:
He toss'd his arm aloft, and proudly told me,
He would not stay and perish like Sempronius.
Cato. Perfidious man! But haste, my son,
and see

Thy brother Marcus acts a Roman's part.
Lucius, the torrent bears too hard upon me:
[Exit Portius.
Justice gives way to force: the conquer'd world
Is Caesar's! Cato has no business in it.

Luc. While pride, oppression, and injustice reign, The world will still demand her Cato's presence. In pity to mankind submit to Caesar, And reconcile thy mighty soul to life.

Cato. Would Lucius have me live to swell the number

Of Caesar's slaves, or by a base submission
Give up the cause of Rome, and own a tyrant?
Luc. The victor never will impose on Cato
Ungen'rous terms. His enemies confess
The virtues of humanity are Caesar's.
Cato. Curse on his virtues! they've undone
his country.

Such popular humanity is treason-
But see young Juba; the good youth appears,
Full of the guilt of his perfidious subjects!
Luc. Alas, poor prince! his fate deserves
compassion.

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Luc. I stand astonish'd! What, the bold Thy virtue, prince, has stood the test of fortune, Like purest gold, that, tortur'd in the furnace,

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My brother Marcus

Cato. Ha! what has he done? Has he forsook his post? Has he giv'n way? Did he look tamely on, and let them pass? Por. Scarce had I left my father, but I met him

Borne on the shields of his surviving soldiers, Breathless and pale, and cover'd o'er with wounds.

Long, at the head of his few faithful friends, He stood the shock of a whole host of foes, Till, obstinately brave, and bent on death, Oppress'd with multitudes, he greatly fell. Cato. I'm satisfy'd.

Por. Nor did he fall, before His sword had pierc'd through the false heart of Syphax.

Yonder he lies. I saw the hoary traitor
Grin in the pangs of death, and bite the ground.
Cato. Thanks to the gods, my boy has done
his duty.
-Portius, when I am dead, be sure you place
His urn near mine.

Por. Long may they keep asunder!
Luc. Oh, Cato, arm thy soul with all its
patience;

See where the corpse of thy dead son approaches!
The citizens and senators, alarm'd,
Have gather'd round it, and attend it weeping.
Dead March. CATO meets the Corpse. Lu-
CIUS, Senators, Guards, etc. attending.
Cato. Welcome, my son! Here lay him
down, my friends,
Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure
The bloody corse, and count those glorious

wounds.

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Cato. Caesar asham'd! Has he not seen
Pharsalia!

Luc. 'Tis time thou save thyself and us.
Cato. Lose not a thought on me; I'm out
of danger:

Heav'n will not leave me in the victor's hand.
Caesar shall never say, he conquer'd Cato.
But oh, my friends! your safety fills my heart
With anxious thoughts; a thousand secret

With tears, that flow'd not o'er his own dear
[Aside.
Cato. Whate'er the Roman virtue has subdu'd,
The sun's whole course, the day and year, are
Caesar's:

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For him the self-devoted Decii died,
The Fabii fell, and the great Scipios conquer'd:
Ev'n Pompey fought for Caesar. Oh, my friends,
How is the toil of fate, the work of ages,
The Roman empire, fall'n! Oh, curs'd ambition!
Fall'n into Caesar's hands! Our great forefathers
Had left him nought to conquer but his country.
Juba. While Cato lives, Caesar will blush
Mankind enslav'd, and be asham'd of empire.

to see

Juba. If I forsake thee

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sway,

The post of honour is a private station.

Por. I hope my father does not recommend A life to Portius that he scorns himself. Cato. Farewell, my friends! If there be any of you, Who dare not trust the victor's clemency, Know there are ships prepar'd, by my command, That shall convey you to the wish'd-for port. Is there aught else, my friends, I can do for you? The conqueror draws near. Once more, farewell! If c'er we meet hereafter, we shall meet In happier climes, and on a safer shore, Where Caesar never shall approach us more. Pointing to his dead Son. There the brave youth, with love of virtue fir'd, Shall know he conquer'd. Who greatly in his country's cause expir'd, The firm patriot there,

Who made the welfare of mankind his care, Though still by faction, vice, and fortune crost, Shall find the gen'rous labour was not lost.

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[Dead March. Exeunt in fu- «

neral Procession.

ACT V.

SCENE I-A Chamber.

CATO solus, sitting in a thoughtful Posture; in his Hand, Plato's Book on the Immor

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tality of the Soul. A drawn Sword on And bar each avenue; thy gath'ring fleets the Table, by him. O'erspread the sea, and stop up ev'ry port; Cato. It must be so-Plato thou reason'st Cato shall open to himself a passage,

well-
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror,
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
Tis the divinity that stirs within us;
'Tis heav'n itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.
Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
Through what variety of untried being,
Through what new scenes and changes must
we pass?

The wide, the unbounded prospect lies be-
fore me:

But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a power above us (And that there is, all nature cries aloud Through all her works), he must delight in virtue:

And that which he delights in must be happy. But when, or where?-this world was made for Caesar:

And mock thy hopes.—

Por. [Kneeling] Oh, sir! forgive your son, Whose grief hangs heavy on him. Oh, my

father!

How am I sure it is not the last time

e'er shall call you so? Be not displeas'd, Oh, be not angry with me whilst I weep, And, in the anguish of my heart, beseech you To quit the dreadful purpose of your soul! Cato. Thou hast been ever good and duti[Embracing him. Weep not, my son, all will be well-again; The righteous gods, whom I have sought to please,

ful.

Will succour Cato, and preserve his children. Por. Your words give comfort to my drooping heart.

Cato. Portius, thou may'st rely upon my

conduct:

Thy father will not act what misbecomes him.
But go, my son, and see if aught be wanting
Among thy father's friends; see them embark'd,
And tell me if the winds and seas befriend them.
My soul is quite weigh'd down with care,

and asks

Enter MARCIA.

Oh, Marcia! Oh, my sister, still there's hope
Our father will not cast away a life
He is retir'd to rest, and seems to cherish
So needful to us all, and to his country.
Thoughts full of peace.-He has dispatch'd
me hence

I'm weary of conjectures--this must end them.
[Laying his Hand on his Sword.
Thus am I doubly arm'd: my death and life, The soft refreshment of a moment's sleep.
My bane and antidote, are both before me.
Por. My thoughts are more at ease, my
This in a moment brings me to an end;
heart revives [Exit Cato.
But this informs me I shall never die.
The soul, secur'd in her existence, smiles
At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years,
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,
The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.
What means this heaviness that hangs upon me? With orders that bespeak a mind compos'd,
This lethargy that creeps through all my senses? And studious for the safety of his friends.
Nature, oppress'd and harrass'd out with care, Marcia, take care that none disturb his slum-
Sinks down to rest. This once I'll favour her,
That my awaken'd soul may take her flight,
Renew'd in all her strength, and fresh with life,
An off'ring fit for heav'n. Let guilt or fear
Disturb man's rest, Cato knows neither of them,
ladiff'rent in his choice to sleep or die.

Enter PORTIUS.

But, ha! who's this? my son! Why this in

trusion?

Were not my orders that I would be private?
Why am I disobey'd?

Por. Alas, my father!

bers.

[Exit. Marcia. Oh, ye immortal powers, that guard Watch round his couch and soften his repose, the just, Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul With easy dreams; remember all his virtues, And show mankind that goodness is your care!

Enter LUCIA. Lucia. Where is your father, Marcia, where is Cato?

Marcia. Lucia, speak low, he is retir'd

to rest.

What means this sword, this instrument of Lucia, I feel a gentle dawning hope

death?

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Rise in my soul-We shall be happy still.
Lucia. Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato!
In every view, in every thought I tremble!
Cato is stern and awful as a god;
He knows not how to wink at human frailty,
Or pardon weakness, that he never felt.
Marcia. Though stern and awful to the foes
of Rome,

He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild;
Compassionate and gentle to his friends;
Fill'd with domestic tenderness, the best,
The kindest father; I have ever found him
Easy and good, and bounteous to my wishes.
Lucia. "Tis his consent alone can make us
blest.

Cato. Tis well! again I'm master of myself.
Now, Caesar, let thy troops beset our gates, But who knows Cato's thoughts?

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