To life or death?

Por. What wouldst thou have me say? Marc. What means this pensive posture? Thou appear'st

Like one amazed and terrified.

Por. I've reason.

Marc. Thy downcast looks, and thy disordered thoughts,

Tell me my fate. I ask not the success
My cause has found.

Por. I'm grieved I undertook it.

Marc. What? does the barbarous maid insult my heart,

My aching heart, and triumph in my pains?
That I could cast her from my thoughts for ever!
Por. Away, you're too suspicious in your griefs;
Lucia, though sworn never to think of love,
Compassionates your pains, and pities you.
Marc. Compassionates my pains, and pities

me!

What is compassion, when 'tis void of love?
Fool that I was to chuse so cold a friend

To urge my cause !-Compassionates my pains!
Prithee, what art, what rhetoric didst thou use
To gain this mighty boon?-She pities me!
To one that asks the warm returns of love,
Compassion's cruelty, 'tis scorn, 'tis death-
Por. Marcus, no more; have I deserved this
treatment?

Marc. What have I said! Oh, Portius, oh forgive me!

A soul, exasperate 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 Ca-

to'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 blows high;

Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up
In its full fury, and direct it right,
Till it has spent itself on Cato's head.

Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast.
This day will end our toils, and give us rest:
Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.
Re-enter SEMPRONIUS, with CATO, LUCIUS,
PORTIUS, and MARCUS. •

Cato. Where are those bold intrepid sons of

war,

That greatly turn their backs upon their foe, And to their general send a brave defiance? Sem. Curse on their dastard souls, they stand astonished! [lide.

Cato. Perfidious men! And will you thus dishonour

Your past exploits, and sully all your wars?
Do you confess 'twas not a zeal for Rome,
Nor love of liberty, nor thirst of honour,
Drew you thus far; but hopes to share the spoil
Of conquered towns, and plundered provinces?
Fired with such motives, you do well to join
With Cato's foes, and follow Cæsar's banners.
Why did I 'scape the envenomed aspic's rage,
And all the fiery monsters of the desert,
To see this day. Why could not Cato fall
Without your guilt? Behold, ungrateful men,
Behold my bosom naked to your swords,
And let the man that's injured strike the blow,
Which of you all suspects that he is wronged?
Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato?
Am I distinguished from you but by toils,
Superior toils, and heavier weight of cares?
Painful pre-eminence!

Sem. By Heavens, they droop!
Confusion to the villains! all is lost! [dside.
Cato. Have you forgotten Lybia's burning

waste,

Its barren rocks, parched earth, and hills of sand,
Its tainted air, and all its broods of poison?
Who was the first to explore the untrodden path,
When life was hazarded in every step?
Or, fainting in the long laborious march,
When, on the banks of an unlooked-for stream,
You sunk the river with repeated draughts,
Who was the last of all your host that thirsted?
Sem, If some penurious source by chance ap-

peared,

Scanty of waters, when you scooped it dry,
And offered the full helmet up to Cato,
Did he not dash the untasted moisture from
him?

Did he not lead you through the mid-day sun,
And clouds of dust? Did not his temples glow
In the same sultry winds and scorching heats?
Cato. Hence, worthless men! hence! and com-
plain to Cæsar,

You could not undergo the toil of war,

Luc. See, Cato, see the unhappy men; they weep!

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

And pardon shall descend to all the rest.

Sem. Cato, commit these wretches to my care:

Lucius, the base degenerate age requires
Severity, and justice in its rigour:

This awes an impious, bold, offending world,
Commands obedience, and gives force to laws.
When, by just vengeance, guilty mortals perish,
The gods behold the punishment with pleasure,
And lay the uplifted thunderbolt aside.

Sem. Cato, I execute thy will with pleasure. Cato. Meanwhile we'll sacrifice to Liberty. Remember, O my friends! the laws, the rights, The generous plan of power delivered down From age to age, by your renowned 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, &c. 1 Lead. Sempronius, you have acted like yourself.

One would have thought you had been half in

earnest.

them.

Sem. Heavens, 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 disordered charms,
While fear and anger, with alternate grace,
Pant in her breast, and vary in her face!
So Pluto seized of Proserpine, conveyed
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

SCENE I.

Enter LUCIA and MARCIA.

Luc. Now tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy soul,

If thou believ'st 'tis possible for woman
To suffer greater ills than Lucia suffers?

Mar. Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might thy 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.

Luc. I know thou'rt doomed alike to be beloved

By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius: But which of these has power to charm like Portius!

Mar. Still I must beg thee not to name Sempronius;

Lucia, I like not that loud boisterous man.
Juba, to all the bravery of a hero,
Adds softest love, and more than female sweet-

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:
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 lodged, I've tracked her to
her covert.

Be sure you mind the word, and, when I give it,
Rush in at once, and seize upon your prey.
Let not her cries or tears have force to move you.

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.

[Exit 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,
It throbs with fear, and aches at every sound.
Oh, Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sake!-
I die away with horror at the thought.

Mar. See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's

blood and murder!

Ha! a Numidian! Heaven preserve the prince!
The face lies muffled up within the garment,
But, ha! death to my sight! a diadem,
And royal robes! O gods! 'tis he, 'tis he!
Juba, the loveliest youth that ever warmed
A virgin's heart, Juba lies dead before us!

Luc. Now, Marcia, now call up to thy assist

ance

Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind! Thou can'st not put it to a greater trial.

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?

Mar. Talk not of comfort! 'tis for lighter ills:

happy.

Luc. Here will I stand, companion in thy woes, And help thee with my tears; when I behold A loss like thine, I half forget my own.

Mar.'Tis not in fate to ease my tortured breast; This empty world, to me a joyless desert, Has nothing left to make poor Marcia happy. Juba. I'm on the rack? Was he so near her heart?

Mar. Oh, he was all made up of love and
charms,

Whatever maid could wish, or man admire,
Delight of every eye! when he appeared,
A secret pleasure gladdened all that saw him;
But when he talked, the proudest Roman blushed
To hear his virtues, and old age grew worse.
Juba. I shall run mad-

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 him,

Lucia, who knows but his poor bleeding heart,
Amidst its agonies, remembered Marcia,
And the last words he uttered, called me cruel!
Alas! he knew not, hapless youth, he knew not
Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba!
Juba. Where am I? Do I live? or am indeed
What Marcia thinks? All is Elysium round me!
Mar. Ye dear remains of the most loved of
men,

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

Half smothered 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. I'm lost in ecstacy! and dost thou love,
Thou charming maid-

Mar. And dost thou live to ask it?

Jaba. This, this is life indeed! life worth preserving,

Such life as Juba never felt 'till now!

Mar. Believe me, prince, before I thought
thee dead,

I did not know myself how much I loved thee.
Juba. Oh, fortunate mistake!
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 arm. Oh, let me rest upon The vital blood, that had forsook my heart, Returns again in such tumultuous tides, It quite o'ercomes me. Lead to my apartmentOh, 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.

it!

[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 conquered towns And provinces to swell the victor's triumph, Juba will never at his fate repine: Let Cæsar have the world, if Marcia's mine.

[Exit.

A march at a distance.-Enter CATO and
LUCIUS.

Luc. I stand astonished! What, the bold Sem

pronius,

That still broke foremost through the crowd of patriots,

As with a hurricane of zeal transported,
And virtuous even to madness-

Cato. Trust me, Lucius,

thing.

-Oh, Lucius, I am sick of this bad world! The day-light and the sun grow painful to me.

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.
Cato. Has Cæsar shed more Roman blood?
Por. Not so.

The traitor Syphax, as within the square
He exercised his troops, the signal given,
Flew off at once, with his Numidian horse,
To the south gate, where Marcus holds the
watch;

2 s

I saw, and called to stop him, but in vain:
He tossed 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.

[Exit POR. -Lucius, the torrent bears too hard upon me: Justice gives way to force: the conquered world Is Cæsar'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 Cæsar,
And reconcile thy mighty soul to life!

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,
Oppressed with multitudes, he greatly fell.
Cato. I'm satisfied.

Por. Nor did he fall before

His sword had pierced 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