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SCENE II.

SEMPRONIUS, dresi'd like J Ú B A, with'

Numidian guards.

SEMPRONIUS.
The deer is lodg’d, I've track'd her to her covert.
Be sure you mind the word, and when I give it,
Rush in at once, and seize upon your prey.
Let not her cries or tears have force to move you.
-How will the young Numidian rave to see
His mistress lost ? if aught cou'd glad my soul,
Beyond th’ enjoyment of so bright a prize,
'Twould be to torture that young gay barbarian.
But hark, what noise! death to my hopes ! 'tis he,
'Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left-
He must be murder'd, and a passage cut
Through those his guards—hah, daftards, do you tremble
Or act like mea, or by yon azure heav'n-

JUBA
What do I fee? Who's this that dares usurp
The guards and habit of Numidia's prince?

SEMPRONIU S.
One that was born to scourge thy arrogance,
Presumptuous youth!

JUBA.

JUB A.
What can this mean? Sempronius!

SEM PRO NI U S.
My sword shall answer thee. Have at thy heart.

JUB A.
Nay, then beware thy own, proud barbarous man!

[Semp. falls. His guards surrender.

SE M P R ONI U S.

Curse on my stars! Am I then doom'd to fall
By a boy's hand, disfigur'd in a vile
Numi.lian dress, and for a worthless woman?
Gods, I'm distracted! this my close of life!
O for a peal of thunder that would make
Earth, sea, and air, and heav'n, and Cato tremble!

[Dies.
JUBA.
With what a spring his furious soul broke loose,
And left the limbs still quivering on the ground!
Hence let us carry off those Naves to Cato,
That we may there at length unravel all
Tis dark design, this mystery of fate.

[Exit Juba with prisoners, &c.

SCENE SCENE III.

LUCIA, MARCI A.

L U CIA. Sure 'twas the clash of swords; my troubled heart Is so cast down and sunk amidst its sorrows, It throbs with fear, and akes at every sound. O Marcia, should thy brothers for

my

fake! I die away with horror at the thought.

MARCIA See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder! Hah! a Numidian ! heavens preserve the Prince The face lies muffled

up

within the garment,
But hah! death to my sight! a diadem,
And purple robes! O gods! 'tis he, 'tis he!
Juba, the loveliest youth that ever warm’d
A virgin's heart, Juba lies dead before us !

LUCIA.
Now, Marcia, now call up to thy aslistance
Thy wonted strength, and constancy of mind;
Thou can'st not put it to a greater trial.

MARCI A.
Lucia, look there, and wonder at my patience.
Have I not cause to rave, and beat my

breast,
To rend my heart with grief, and run distracted ?

LUCIA.
What can I think or say to give thee comfort ?

M ARC I A.
Talk not of comfort, 'tis for lighter ills:
Behold a light, that strikes all comfort dead.

Enter JUB A listening.
I will indulge my forrows, and give way
To all the pangs and fury of despair ;
That man, that best of men, deserv'd it from me.

UBA.
What do I hear? and was the falle Sempronius
That best of men? Ohad I fall’n like him,
And cou'd have thus been mourn’d, I had been happy!

LUCIA.
Here will I ftand, companion in thy woes,
And help thee with my tears, when I behold
A lofs like thine, I half forget my own.

MARCIA.
'Tis not in fate to ease my tortur'd breast,
This empty world, to me a jayleis defart,
Has nothing left to make poor Marcia happy,

JUBA.
I'm on the rack! was be so near her heart!

M AR C I A.
O he was all made up of love and charms,
Whatever maid couid wish, or mian admire :
Delight of every eye! when he appeard,
Vol. II,

H

A secret

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A secret pleasure gladden'd all that saw him;
But when he talk'd, the proudest Roman blush'd
To hear his virtues, and old age grew wise.

JUBA
I shall run mad-

MARCIA. O Juba ! Jubai Fuba!

* UBA.
What means that voice? did she not call on Juba ?

MARCIA.
Why do I think on what he was ! he's dead!
He's dead, and never knew how much I lov'd him.
Lucia, who knows but his poor bleeding heart,
Amidst its agonies, reinember'd Marcia,
And the last words he utter'd call’d me cruel!
„Alas, he knew not, bapless youth, he knew not
Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba!

JUBA,
Where am I! do I live! or am indeed
What Marcia thinks! all is Elyfium round me!

M A RC I A.
Ye dear remains of the moft lov'd of men!
Nor modesty nor virtue here forbid
A laft einbrace, while thus-

JUBA.
See, Marcia, see, [Tbrowing himself before ber.
The happy Juba lives! he lives to catch

That

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