Enter LUCIA. LUCIA. Where is your father, Marcia, where is Cato? -Lucia, fpeak low; he is retir'd to reft. LUCIA. Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato. He knows not how to wink at human frailty, 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. Thy brother Marcus, whom we both lament MARCIA. And ever fhall lament, unhappy youth! LUCIA. 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. 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. 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 Plays on their fhining arms and burnish'd helmets, 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. 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, Mourns o'er his country; ha! a fecond groan l 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! 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? -O Lucius, art thou here?Thou art too good!→→→ Would not have match'd his daughter with a king, —I 'm fick to death-O when fhall I get loose I've been too hafty. O ye powers, that fearch 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; Z From |