Talk not of love, thou never knew'st its force. I've been deluded, led into a dream Of fancied bliss. O Lucia, cruel maid! Thy dreadful vow, loaden with death, still sounds But, ah! she moves! life wanders up and down What would'st thou have me do? consider well The train of ills our love would draw behind it. Think, Portius, think, thou seest thy dying brother Stabb'd at his heart, and all besmear'd with blood, Storming at Heaven and thee! thy awful sire Stemly demands the cause, th' accursed cause, That robs him of his son! poor Marcia trembles, Then tears her hair, and frantic in her griefs, Calls out on Lucial what could Lucia answer? Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow? PORTIUS. To my confusion and eternal grief, 1 must approve the sentence that destroys me. LUCIA. Portius, no more! thy words shoot through my heart, Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love. It softens me too much.-Farewell, my Portius; PORTIUS. Stay, Lucia, stay! what dost thou say? for ever! LUCIA. Have I not sworn? if, Portius, thy success Must throw thy brother on his fate, farewell, Oh, how shall I repeat the word! for ever! PORTIUS. Thus o'er the dying lamp th' unsteady flame Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits, And falls again, as loth to quit its hold. -Thou must not go, my soul still hovers o'er thee, And can't get loose. LUCIA. If the firm Portius shake To hear of parting, think what Lucia suffers! PORTIUS. 'Tis true; unruffled and serene I've met The common accidents of life: but here Such an unlook'd-for storm of ills falls on me, It beats down all my strength. I cannot bear it. We must not part. LUCIA. What dost thou say? not part? Hast thou forgot the vow that I have made? [us? Are there not Heavens, and gods, and thunder, o'er -But see, thy brother Marcus bends this way! I sicken at the sight. Once more, farewell; Farewell, and know thou wrong'st me, if thou think'st Ever was love, or ever grief, like mine. [Exit. Enter MARCUS. MARCUS. Portius, what hopes? how stands she? am I To life, or death? [doom'd PORTIUS. What would'st thou have me say? MARCUS. What means this pensive posture: thou appear'st Like one amaz'd and terrify'd. PORTIUS. I've reason. MARCUS. Thy down-cast looks, and thy disorder'd Tell me my fate. I ask not the success PORTIUS. I'm griev'd I undertook it. MARCUS. 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! PORTIUS. Away! you're too suspicious in your griefs; Lucia, though sworn never to think of love, Compassionates your pains, and pities you. MARCUS. Compassionates my pains, and pities me! PORTIUS. CATO. Perfidious men! and will you thus dishonour Marcus, no more! have I deserv'd this treat- Or thinks he suffers greater ills than Cato? ment? MARCUS. What have I said! O Portius, O forgive me! A soul exasperate in ills falls out With every thing, its friend, itself—But ha! Am I distinguish'd from you but by toils, SEMPRONIUS. By Heavens, they droop! What means that shout, big with the sounds of Confusion to the villains! all is lost. PORTIUS. A second, louder yet, [war? Swells in the winds, and comes more full upon us. MARCUS. Oh, for some glorious cause to fall in battle! PORTIUS. Quick, let us hence: who knows if Cato's life Stand sure? O Marcus, I am warm'd, my heart Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory. [Exeunt. Enter SEMPRONIUS, with the LEADERS of the mutiny. SEMPRONIUS. CATO. [Aside. Have you forgotten Libya's burning waste, SEMPRONIUS. If some penurious source by chance appear'd At length the winds are rais'd, the storm blows And clouds of dust? did not his temples glow Mean-while we'll sacrifice to Liberty. Remember, O my friends, the laws, the rights, The generous plan of power deliver'd down, From age to age, by your renown'd forefathers, (So dearly bought, the price of so much blood.) O 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. Enter SYPHAX. SYPHAX. Our first design, my friend, has prov'd abortive; Still there remains an after-game to play: My troops are mounted; their Numidian steeds Snuff up the wind, and long to scour the desert: 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 Cæsar's camp. SEMPRONIUS. Confusion! I have fail'd of half my purpose. Marcia, the charming Marcia, 's left behind! SYPHAX. How! will Sempronius turn a woman's slave! SEMPRONIUS. Think not thy friend can ever feel the soft Unmanly warmth, and tenderness of love. Syphax, I long to clasp that haughty maid, And bend her stubborn virtue to my passion; When I have gone thus far, I'd cast her off. SYPHAX. Thou shalt have Juba's dress, and Juba's guards: The doors will open, when Numidia's prince Seems to appear before the slaves that watch them. SEMPRONIUS. Heavens, what a thought is there! Marcia's my own! How will my bosom swell with anxious joy, Nor envy'd Jove his sun-shine and his skies. ACT IV. SCENE I. LUCIA and MARCIA. LUCIA. Now tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy soul; MARCIA. O 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 By Juba, and thy father's friend Sempronius; MARCIA. Still must I beg thee not to name Sempronius. Adds softest love, and more than female sweetness; LUCIA. And why not Marcia? Come, you strive in vain To hide your thoughts from one, who knows too The inward glowings of a heart in love. [well MARCIA. While Cato lives, his daughter has no right To love or hate, but as his choice directs. LUCIA. But should this father give you to Sempronius MARCIA. I dare not think he will: but if he should- I hear the sound of feet! they march this way! [Exeunt. Enter SEMPRONIUS, dressed like JUBA, with Numidian guards.. SEMPRONIUS. The deer is lodg'd. I've track'd her to her covert. Be sure you mind the word; and when 1 give it, Or act like men, or by yon azure Heaven Talk not of comfort, 'tis for lighter ills: I will indulge my sorrows, and give way JUBA. What do I hear? and was the false Sempronius That best of men! O, had I fall'n like him, And could have thus been mourn'd, I had been happy! LUCIA. 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. MARCIA. 'Tis not in fate to ease my tortur'd breast. |