Think, Portius, think, thou feeft thy dying brother
Stabb'd at his heart, and all befmear'd with blood,
Storming at heaven and thee! thy awful Sire
Sternly demands the cause, th'accurfed cause,
That robs him of his fon! poor Marcia trembles,
Then tears her hair, and frantick in her griefs
Calls out on Lucia! what could Lucia answer?
Or how stand up in such a scene of forrow!
PORTIUS.

To my confufion, and eternal grief,

I must approve the sentence that destroys me.
The mist, that hung about my mind, clears up;
And now, athwart the terrors that thy Vow
Has planted round thee, thou appear'st more fair,
More amiable, and risest in thy charms.
Lovelieft of women! Heaven is in thy foul,
Beauty and virtue fhine for ever round thee,
Bright'ning each other! thou art all divine!

LUCIA.

Portius, no more! thy words fhoot through my heart,

Melt my refolves, and turn me all to love.

Why are those tears of fondness in thy eyes?

Why heaves thy heart? why fwells thy foul with forrow? It foftens me too much

farewel, my Portius,

Farewel, though death is in the word, For ever!

PORTIU S.

Stay, Lucia ftay! what doft thou say? For-ever?

3

S

LUCIA.

Have I not fworn? if, Portius, thy fuccefs Muft throw thy brother on his fate, farewel, Oh, how fhall I repeat the word! For-ever! PORTIU S.

Thus o'er the dying lamp th' unsteady flame
Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits,
And falls again, as loth to quit its hold.

--Thou must not go, my foul ftill hovers o'er thee,
And can't get loose.

LUCIA.

If the firm Portius fhake

To hear of parting, think what Lucia fuffers!

PORTIUS.

'Tis true; unruffled and ferene I've met

The common accidents of life, but here

Such an unlook'd for form of ills falls on me,

It beats down all my ftrength. I cannot bear it.

We must not part.

LUCIA.

What doft thou say? not part?

Haft thou forgot the Vow that I have made?

Are there not heavens, and gods, and thunder, o'er us!

But fee! thy brother Marcus bends this way!

I ficken at the fight. Once more, farewel,

Farewel, and know thou wrong'st me, if thou think'st Ever was love, or ever grief, like mine.

SCENE

SCENE III.

MARCUS, PORTIUS.

MARCU S.

Portius, what hopes? how ftands fhe? am I doom'd

To life or death?

PORTIUS.

What would't thou have me fay?

MARCUS.

What means this penfive posture? thou appear'st Like one amaz'd and terrified.

I've reason.

PORTIU S.

MARCU S.

Thy caft down looks, and thy disorder'd thoughts Tell me my fate. I ask not the fuccefs

My cause has found.

PORTIU S.

I'm griev'd I undertook it.

MARCU S.

What? does the barbarous maid infult my heart,
My aking heart! and triumph in my pains?
That I could caft her from my thoughts for ever?
PORTIUS.

Away! you're too fufpicious in your griefs;

Lucia, though fworn never to think of love,

Com

Compaffionates your pains, and pities you.

MARCU S.

Compaffionates my pains, and pities me!
What is compaffion when 'tis void of love!
Fool that I was to chuse so cold a friend
To urge my caufe! Compaffionates my pains!
Pr'ythee what art, what rhetorick didst thou use
To gain this mighty boon? She pities me!
To one that asks the warm return of love,
Compaffion's cruelty, 'tis fcorn, 'tis death

PORTIU S.

Marcus, no more! have I deferv'd this treatment ?:
MARCUS.

What have I faid! O Portius, O forgive me!

A foul exafperated in ills falls out

With every thing, its friend, its felf

but hah!

What means that shout, big with the founds of war?:

What new alarm?

PORTIU S.

A fecond, louder yet,

Swells in the winds, and comes more full upon us.

MARCUS.

Oh, for fome glorious caufe to fall in battel!

Lucia, thou haft undone me! thy disdain

Has broke my heart: 'tis death must give me ease.
PORTIU S.

Quick, let us hence; who knows if Cato's life
Stand fure? O Marcus, I am warm'd, my heart.
Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory.

SCENE

SCENE IV.

SEMPRONIUS with the leaders of the mutiny.

SEMPRONIUS.

At length the winds are rais'd, the ftorm blows high; Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up In its full fury, and direct it right,

Till it has spent it felf on Cato's head.

Mean while I'll herd among his friends, and feem
One of the number, that what-e'er arrive, *
My friends and fellow-foldiers may be safe.
I LEADER.

We all are fafe, Sempronius is our friend.
Sempronius is as brave a man as Cato.
But heark! he enters. Bear up boldly to him; ;
Be sure you beat him down, and bind him fast.
This day will end our toils, and give us reft!
Fear nothing, for Sempronius is our friend.

SCENE