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The soft refreihment of a moment's sleep.
My thoughts are more at ease, my heart revives.
O Marcia, O my sister, still there's hope !
Our father will not cast
So needful to us all, and to his
He is retired to rest, and seems to cherish
Thoughts full of peace. He has dispatch'd nie hence
With orders, that bespeak a mind composed,
And studious for the fafety of his friends.
Marcia, take care that none disturb his sumbers. (Exit.
M AR CIA.
Oye inmortal powers, that guard the juft,
Watch round his couch, and soften his repose,
Banish his sorrows, and becalm his soul
With easy dreams ; remember all his virtues,
And show mankind that goodness is your care.
LUC I A.
Where is your father, Marcia, where is Cato?
M A RC I A.
Lucia, speak low, he is retired to reft.
Lucia, I feel a gentle dawning hope
Rise in my soul. We shall be happy ftill.
Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato,
In every view, in every thought I tremble! .
Cato is stern, and awful as a God,
He knows not how to wink at human frailty,
Or pardon weakness, that he never felt.
M A RC I A.
Though stern and awful to the foes of Rome,
He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild,
Compassionate and gentle to his friends.
Filld with domestic tenderness, the best,
The kindeft father! I have ever found him
Easy, and good, and bounteous to my withes.
LUCIA 'Tis his confent alone can make us bless'd. Marcia, we both are equally involv'd
In the same intricate, perplex'd distress.
The cruel hand of fate, that has destroy'd .
Thy brother Marcus, whom we both lament
MA RC I A.
And ever shall lament, unhappy youth !
Has set my foul at large, and now I stand
But who knows Cato's thoughts
Who knows how yet he may dispose of Portius,
Or how he has determinid of thyself?
M A RC I A.
Let him but live! commit the rest to heaven.
Enter Luci Us.
Sweet are the Numbers of the virtuous man!
O Marcia, I have feen thy godlike father :
Some power invisible supports his soul,
And bears it up in all its wonted greatness.
A kind refreshing deep is fallen upon him:
I saw him stretch'd at ease, his fancy loft
In pleasing dreams ; as I drew near his couch,
He smild, and cry'd, Cæfar, thou can'ft not hurt me.
MA RC I A.
His mind ftill labours with some dreadful thought.
Lucia, why all this grief, these floods of sorrow?
Dry up thy tears, my child, we all are safe
While Cato lives_His presence will protect us.
Enter J U BA.
Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from viewing
The number, 'ftrength, and posture of our foes,
Who now eAcamp within a short hour's march.
On the high point of yon bright weftern tower
We ken them from afar, the setting fun
Plays on their shining arms and burnish'd helmets,
And covers all the field with gleams of fire.
Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father.
Cæfaris still disposed to give us terms,
And waits at distance 'till he hears from Cato.
Enter PORTIU S.
Portius, thy looks speak fomewhat of importance.
What tidings doft thou bring? methinks I see
Unusual gladness sparkling in thine eyes..
As I was hasting to the port, where now
My father's friends, impatient for a passage,
Accuse the ling’ring winds, a fail arrived
From Pompey's son, who through the realms of Spain
Calls out for vengeance on his father's death,
And rouses the whole nation up to arms.
Were Cato at their head, once more might Ronis
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. (Exit.
Cato, amidst his slumbers thinks on Rome,
And in the wild disorder of his soul
Mourns o'er his country-Hah! a second groan!
Heav'n guard us all
Alas, 'tis not the voice
Of one who fleeps! 'tis agonizing pain,
Tis death is in that found
O fight of woe!
O Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass !
Cato is fallen
Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale,
And let us guess the rest.
PORT IU S.
I've rais'd him
And placed him in his chair, where pale, and faint,
He gasps for breath, and, as his life flows from him,