Dwell in her looks, and with becoming grace SY PHA X. How does your tongue grow wanton in her praise! But on my knees I beg you would confider JUBA. Hah! Syphax, is't not fhe!-fhe moves this way: Ten thousand curfes faften on 'em both! Now will this woman with a fingle glance SCENE V. JUBA, MARCIA, LUCIA. JUBA. Hail charming Maid! how does thy beauty smooth And for a while forget th' approach of Cæfar. I fhould be griev'd, young Prince, to think my presence Unbent your thoughts, and flacken'd 'em to arms, While, warm with flaughter, our victorious foe Threatens aloud, and calls you to the field. O Marcia, let me hope thy kind concerns The thought will give new vigour to my arm, Add ftrength and weight to my descending sword, And drive it in a tempeft on the foe. MARCIA. My prayers and wishes always fhall attend The friends of Rome, the glorious cause of virtue, And men approv'd of by the Gods and Cate. I'll JUBA. That Juba may deserve thy pious cares, gaze for ever on thy god-like father, Transplanting, one by one, into my life MARCIA. My Father never at a time like this Would lay out his great foul in words, and wafte Such precious moments. JUBA. Thy reproofs are just, Thou virtuous maid; I'll haften to my troops, O lovely Maid, then will I think on thee! And, in the shock of charging hofts, remember What glorious deeds should grace the man, who hopes For Marcia's love. [Exit. SCENE VI. LUCIA, MARCI A. LUCIA. Marcia, you're too fevere: How could you chide the young good-natur'd Prince, 'Tis therefore, Lucia, that I chide him from me; I dare not trust myself to hear him talk.. LUCIA. Why will you fight against so sweet a paffion, And steel your heart to fuch a world of charms? MARCI A. How, Lucia! would'st thou have me fink away And And aims his thunder at my father's head : Why have not I this conftancy of mind, Lucia, disburden all thy cares on me, And let me share thy moft retir'd distress; Tell me who raises up this conflict in thee? LUCIA. I need not blush to name them, when I tell thee They're Marcia's brothers, and the fons of Cato. MARCI A. They both behold thee with their fifter's eyes: And often have reveal'd their passion to me. But tell me, whofe addrefs thou favour'ft moft? I long to know, and yet I dread to hear it. LUCIA. Which is it Marcia wifhes for? For neither MARCIA. And yet for both the youths have equal share In Marcia's wishes, and divide their fifter: But tell me, which of them is Lucia's choice ? Marcia, they both are high in my esteem, O Lucia, I'm perplex'd, O tell me which LUCIA. Suppofe 'twere Portius, could you blame my choice? And breathes the fofteft, the fincereft vows! Dwell ever on his tongue, and smooth his thoughts. I hear him with a fecret kind of horror, And tremble at his vehemence of temper. MARCI A. Alas poor youth! how can't thou throw him from thee? Lucia, thou know'ft not half the love he bears thee? Whene'er he speaks of thee, his heart's in flames, And thinks, and talks, and looks like one tranfported. Unhappy |