Cato is stern and awful as a god; He knows not how to wink at human frailty, Marcia. Though stern and awful to the foes of He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild; In the same intricate, perplex'd distress. Marcia. Let him but live, commit the rest to Enter LUCIUS. Luc. Sweet are the slumbers of the virtuous man! Oh, Marcia, I have seen thy godlike father! Some power invisible supports his soul, And bears it up in all its wonted greatness. A kind, refreshing sleep is fall'n upon him: I saw him stretch'd at ease; his fancy lost In pleasing dreams; as I drew near his couch, He smil'd, and cry'd, "Cæsar, thou canst not hurt me." Marcia. His mind still labours with some dreadful thought. Enter JUBA. Jub. 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 the high point of yon bright western tower We ken them from afar, the setting sun Plays on their shining arms and burnish'd helmets, And covers all the field with gleams of fire. Luc. Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father. Cæsar is still dispos'd to give us terms, And waits at distance, till he hears from Cato. Enter PORTIUS. Portius, thy looks speak somewhat of importance. Por. As I was hasting to the port, where now From Pompey's son, who, through the realms of Calls out for vengeance on his father's death, Were Cato at their head, once more might Rome way, And let me fly into my father's presence! -Oh, give me [Exit. Luc. Cato, amidst his slumbers, thinks on Rome, And, in the wild disorder of his soul, Mourns o'er his country.-Ah, a second groan Heav'n guard us all! Marcia. Alas, 'tis not the voice Of one who sleeps ; 'tis agonizing pain, "Tis death is in that sound Enter PORTIUS. Por. Oh, sight of woe! Oh, Marcia, what we fear'd, is come to pass!— Luc. Oh, Portius, Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale, And let us guess the rest. Por. I've rais'd him up, And plac'd him in his chair; where, pale and faint, Marcia. Oh, Heav'n! assist me in this dreadful hour, To pay the last sad duties to my father! CATO brought on, in a Chair. Cato. Here set me down Portius, come near me-Are my friends embark'd Can any thing be thought of for their service? Whilst I yet live, let me not live in vain Oh, Lucius! art thou here?-Thou art too goodLet this our friendship live between our children— Make Portia happy, in thy daughter LuciaMarcia, my daughter Oh, bend me forward- -Juba loves thee, Marcia— Would not have match'd his daughter with a king- I've been too hasty!Oh, ye powers, that search The best may err, but you are good, and -Oh! [Dies. Por. There fled the greatest soul, that ever warm'd A Roman breast: From hence, let fierce contending nations know, What dire effects from civil discord flow: "Tis this, that shakes our country with alarms, And gives up Rome a prey to Roman arms; Produces fraud, and cruelty, and strife, And robs the guilty world of Cato's life. [Exeunt Omnes. THE END. |