When I behold her ftrugling in my Arms, End of the Third Acts ACT ACT IV. SCENE I Ni Lucia and Marcia. Luc. OW tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy Soul, Marc. O Lucia, Lucia, might my big swoln Heart By Juba, and thy Father's Friend Sempronius; Juba to all the Brav'ry of a Héroe Adds fofteft Love, and more than Female Sweetness; Any of Woman-kind, but Marcia, happy. Luc. And why not Marcia? Come, you strive in vain To hide your Thoughts from one, who know's too well The inward Glowings of a Heart in Love. Marc. While Cato live's, his Daughter has no Right Luc. But fhou'd this Father give you to Sempronius? I I hear the Sound of Feet! they march this Way! Each fofter Thought in Senfe of prefent Danger. [Exeunt. Enter Sempronius, drefs'd like Juba, with Numidian Guards. Semp. The Deer is lodg'd. I've trackt her to her Covert, Be fure you mind the Word, and when I give it, Rush in at once, and feize upon your Prey. Let not her Cries or Tears have Force to move you. His Mistress loft? If aught cou'd glad my Soul, But hark, what Noife! Death to my Hopes! 'tis he, 'Tis Juba's felf! there is but one Way left He must be murder'd, and a Paffage cut Through those his Guards.-Hah, Daftards, do you tremble! Or act like Men, or by yon azure Heav'n Enter Juba. Jub. What do I fee? Who's this that dares ufurp Jub. What can this mean? Sempronius! Smp. My Sword fhall answer thee. Have at thy Heart. By a Boy's Hand? disfigur'd in a vile Numidian Dress, and for a worthlefs Woman? O for a Peal of Thunder that wou'd make Earth, Sea, and Air, and Heav'n, and Cato tremble! [Dies. That we may there at length unravel all This dark Defign, this Mystery of Fate. [Exit Juba with Prifoners, &c. Enter Lucia and Marcia.. Luc. Sure 'twas the Clafh of Swords; my troubled Heart Is fo caft down, and funk amidst its Sorrows, It throb's with Fear, and ake's at ev'ry Sound. O Marcia, fhou'd thy Brothers for my Sake! I die away with Horror at the Thought. Marc. See, Lucia, fee! here's Blood! here's Blood and Hah! a Numidian! Heav'ns preferve the Prince: Luc. Now Marcia, now call up to thy Affiftance Marc. Lucia, look there, and wonder at my Patience.. Have I not cause to rave, and beat my Breaft, To rend my Heart with Grief, and run distracted! Enter Juba liftning. I will indulge my Sorrows, and give way That Man, that beft of Men, deferv'd it from me. Fubar Juba. What do I hear? and was the falfe Sempronius And cou'd have thus been mourn'd, I had been happy! Marc. 'Tis not in Fate to eafe my tortured Breaft. Juba. I'm on the Rack! Was he fo near her Heart? Marc. O Juba! Juba! Juba! Juba. What means that Voice? did the not call on Juba? Marc. Why do I think on what he was! he's dead! He's dead, and never knew how much I lov'd him. A laft Embrace, while thus Juba. See, Marcia, see, The happy Juba live's! he live's to catch That dear Embrace, and to return it too With mutual Warmth and Eagerness of Love. Marc. With Pleasure and Amaze, I stand transported! Sure |