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Sempronius, you have acted like yourself,
One would have thought you had been half in earnest, SEMPRO NIU S....
Villain, stand off! base, groveling, worthless wretches, Mongrels in faction, poor faint-hearted traitors!
Nay, now you carry it too far, Sempronius:
Throw off the malk, there are none here but friends.
Know, villains, when fuch paltry slaves presume To mix in treafon, if the plot fucceeds, 'They're thrown neglected by: but if it fails, They're fure to die like dogs, as you shall do. Here, taks thefe factious. monfters, drag 'em forth To fudden death.
Nay, fince it comes to this→→
SEMPRONIU S. Dispatch 'em quick, but first pluck out their tongues, Left with their dying breath they low sedition.
Exeunt guards with the leaders.
Syp H A X and SEMPRONIU S.
Sr P H A X.
up the wind, and long to scour the desart :
s E M PR: NHƯ $. Confufion! I have fail'd of half my purpose. Marcia, the charming Marcia's left behind !
Sr P H A X.
When I have gone thus far, I'd cast her off.
S r P H A X.
SEM PRO NI U S.
Sr PH A X.
SEMPRONIU S. Heav'ns! what a thought is there! Marcia's my own! How will my bosom swell with anxious joy, When I behold her struggling in my arms, With glowing beauty, and disorder'd charms. While fear and anger, with alternate grace, Pant in her breast, and vary in her face! So Pluto seiz'd of Proserpine, convey'd To hell's tremendous gloom th' affrighted maid, There grimly sınil'd, pleas’d with the beauteous prize, Nor envy'd Jove his sun-fhine and his skies. (Exeunt
ACT IV. SCENE I
LUCIA and MARCI A.
OW tell me, Marcia, tell me from thy foul, If thou believ'ft 'tis poffible for woman To fuffer greater ills than Lucia fuffers?
O Lucia, Lucia! might my big-fwoln heart Vent all its griefs, and give a loofe to forrow: Marcia could anfwer thee in fighs, 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;
But which of thefe has power to charm like Partius !
Still I must beg thee not to name Sempronius!
Lucia, I like not that loud boist'rous man;
Adds fofteft love, and more than female fweetness;
And why not Marcia? come, you strive in vain
To hide your thoughts from one, who knows too well
While Cato lives, his daughter has no right To love or hate, but as his choice directs.
But should this father give you to Sempronius?
Marc. I dare not think he will: but if he fhou'd-
I hear the found of feet! they march this way!
The woman that deliberates is loft.