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• Por. Name not the word, my frighted thoughts
run back, « And startle into madness at the sound. Luc. " What wouldst 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 Heav'n and theel Thy awful sire Sternly 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 Lucia. What could Lucia answer, Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow?
Por. To my confusion, and eternal grief, I must approve the sentence that destroys me. “ The mist that hung upon my mind, clears up; " And now, athwart the terrors that thy vow “ Has planted round thee, thou appear'st most fair, “ More amiable, and risest in thy charms. “ Loveliest of women! Heav'n is in thy soul; “ Beauty and virtue shine for ever round thee, “ Bright'ning each other: thou art all divine." Luc. Portius, no more; thy words shoot thro' my
heart, Melt my resolves, and turn me all to love. Why are those tears of fondness in thy eyes? Why heaves thy heart? Why swells thy soul with sorrow?
It softens me too much-farewell, my Portius;
Por. Stay, Lucia, stay? What dost thou say? Forever?
Luc. Have I not sworn i If, Portius, thy success
Por. “ Thus o'er the dying lamp th' unsteady flame
Hangs quiv'ring on a point, leaps off by fits,
Luc. If the firm Portius shake
Por. 'Tis true, unruffled and serene, I've met
Luc. What dost thou say? Not part!
-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 Lucia.
Por. What wouldst thou have me say?
Por. I've reason.
Por. I'm griev'd I undertook it.
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!
-Compassionates my pains !
ment? Marc. What have I said! Oh, Portius, oh forgive
me! A soul exasperated in ills fall out
With ev'ry thing, its friend, itself—but, hah!
war? What new alarm ?
Por. A second, louder yet,
Marc. Oh, for some glorious cause to fall in battle!
life Stands sure? Oh, Marcus, I am warm’d, my heart Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory.
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 its full fury, and direct it right, Till it has spent itself on Cato's head. Mean-while I'll herd amongst his friends, and seem One of the number, that whate'er arrive, My friends, and fellow-soldiers may be safe. [Exit.
i Lead. We are all safe, Sempronius is our friend. Sempronious is as brave a man as Cato. But hark! he enters. Bear up boldly to him: Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast, This day will end our toils, and give us iest: Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.
Re-enter SEMPRONIUS, with CATO, Lucius, POR
TIUS, 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 astonish’d.
[ Aside. Cato. Perfidious men! And will you thus dishonour Your past exploits, and sully all your
confess 'twas not a zeal for Rome,
bosom naked to your swords,
Sem. By heav'ns they droop!
Cato. Have you forgotten Lybia’s burning waste,