LUCIA.

Has fet my foul at large, and now I ftand Loofe 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 thy felf?

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 invifible fupports his foul,
And bears it up in all its wonted greatness.
A kind refreshing fleep is fall'n upon him:
I faw him ftretch'd at ease, his fancy lost
In pleafing dreams; as I drew near his couch,

He smil'd, and cry'd, Cæfar, thou canst not hurt me!

MARCI A.

His mind ftill labours with fome dreadful thought,

LUCIUS.

Lucia, why all this grief, these floods of forrow?

Dry up thy tears, my child; we all are fafe
While Cato lives-his prefence will protect us.

Enter JUBA.
JUBA..

Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from viewing The number, ftrength, and pofture of our foes, Who now encamp within a fhort hour's march.

On

On the high point of yon bright western tower
We ken them from afar; the fetting fun

Plays on their fhining arms and burnifh'd helmets,
And covers all the field with gleams of fire.

LUCIU S.

Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father. Cæfar is ftill dispos'd to give us terms,

And waits at diftance 'till he hears from Cato.

Enter PORTIUS.

Portius, thy looks fpeak fomewhat of importance.
What tidings doft thou bring? Methinks I fee
Unusual gladnefs fparkling in thy eyes.

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 presence.

LUCIUS.

Cato, amidst his flumbers, thinks on Rome,
And in the wild diforder of his foul

Mourns o'er his country; ha! a fecond groan !-
Heaven guard us all !-

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 pafs!

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.

MARCI A.

O heaven, affift me in this dreadful hour To pay the laft fad duties to my father!

JUBA.

These are thy triumphs, thy exploits, O Cæfar!

LUCIU S.

Now is Rome fall'n indeed!

[CATO brought forward in his chair.

CATO.

САТО.

Here fet me down

Portius, come near me-are my friends embark'd?
Can any thing be thought of for their service?
Whilft I yet live, let me not live in vain.

-O Lucius, art thou here ?-Thou art too good!—
Let this our friendship live between our children
Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia.
Alas poor man, he weeps !—Marcia, my daughter-
-O bend me forward !-Juba loves thee, Marcia.
A Senator of Rome, while Rome furviv'd,

Would not have match'd his daughter with a king,
But Cæfar's arms have thrown down all distinction ;
Whoe'er is brave and virtuous, is a Roman-
—I'm fick to death-O when shall I get loose

From this vain world, th' abode of guilt and forrow !— -And yet methinks a beam of light breaks in

On my departing foul. Alas, I fear

I've been too hafty. O ye powers, that search
The heart of man, and weigh his inmoft thoughts,
If I have done amifs, impute it not !-

The best may err, but you are good, and-o [Dies.

LUCIUS.

There fled the greatest foul that ever warm'd
A Roman breaft. O Cato! O my friend!
Thy will shall be religiously observ'd.
But let us bear this awful corpfe to Cæfar,
And lay it in his fight, that it may stand
A fence betwixt us and the victor's wrath;
Cato, though dead, fhall ftill protect his friends.

From hence, let fierce contending nations know
What dire effects from civil difcord 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.

END OF THE FIFTH ACT.

EPI