And all the torments that thou feeft me fuffer.

PORTIU S.

Marcus, I beg thee give me not an office,

That fuits with me fo ill. Thou know'st my temper.
MARCU S.

Wilt thou behold me finking in my woes?
And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,
To raise me from amidst this plunge of forrows?
PORTIUS.

Marcus, thou canst not ask what I'd refufe.
But here believe me I've a thousand reasons
MARCU S.

I know thou'lt fay my paffion's out of season,
That Cato's great example and misfortunes

Should both confpire to drive it from my thoughts.
But what's all this to one who loves like me!
Oh Portius, Portius, from my foul I wish
Thou didst but know thyself what 'tis to love!
Then wouldst thou pity and affift thy brother.
PORTIU S.

What should I do! if I difclofe my paffion,
Our friendship's at an end: if I conceal it,

The world will call me falfe to a friend and brother. [Afide. MARCU S.

But fee where Lucia, at her wonted hour,

Amid the cool of yon high marble arch,

Enjoys the noon-day breeze! observe her, Portius!

That face, that shape, thofe eyes, that Heaven of beauty!

Obferve

Observe her well, and blame me if thou canst.

And leave you for a while. Remember, Portius,
Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue.

SCENE II.

LUCIA, PORTIU S.

LUCIA.

Did I not fee your brother Marcus here?
Why did he fly the place, and fhun my presence?
PORTIUS.

Oh, Lucia, language is too faint to show

His

rage of love; it preys upon his life;

He pines, he fickens, he despairs, he dies:
His paffions and his virtues lie confufed,

And mixt together in fo wild a tumult,
That the whole man is quite disfigur'd in him.'
Heav'ns! would one think 'twere poffible for love
To make fuch ravage in a noble foul!

Oh, Lucia, I'm diftreft! my heart bleeds for him;
Even now, while thus I ftand bleft in thy prefence,
A fecret damp of grief comes o'er my thoughts,

D 3

77

And

And I'm unhappy, tho' thou fmil'ft upon me.

LUCIA.

How wilt thou guard thy honour, in the fhock Of love and friendship! think betimes, my Portius, Think how the nuptial tie, that might enfure Our mutual blifs, would raife to fuch a height

Thy brother's griefs, as might perhaps destroy him. PORTIU S.

Alas, poor youth! what doft thou think, my Lucia? His generous, open, undefigning heart

Has begg'd his rival to folicit for him.

Then do not ftrike him dead with a denial,
But hold him up in life, and chear his foul
With the faint glimmering of a doubtful hope:
Perhaps, when we have pass'd these gloomy hours,
And weather'd out the form that beats upon us-----
LUCIA.

No, Portius, no! I fee thy fifter's tears,
Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death,
In the purfuit of our ill-fated loves.

And, Portius, here I fwear, to Heav'n I fwear,
To Heav'n, and all the pow'rs that judge mankind,
Never to mix my plighted hands with thine,
While fuch a cloud of mischiefs hangs about us,
But to forget our loves, and drive thee out
From all my thoughts, as far-

PORTIU S.

as I am able.

recall

Thofe

What haft thou faid! I'm thunder-ftruck!

Thofe hafty words, or I am loft for ever.
LUCIA.

Has not the Vow already pafs'd my lips?

The Gods have heard it, and 'tis feal'd in Heav'n.
May all the vengeance that was ever pour'd

On perjur'd heads, o'erwhelm me, if I break it!
PORTIU S.

Fixt in astonishment, I gaze upon thee;
Like one just blafted by a ftroke from Heav'n,
Who pants for breath, and stiffens, yet alive,
In dreadful looks: a monument of wrath!
LUCIA.

At length I've acted my fevereft part;
I feel the woman breaking in upon me,
And melt about my heart! my tears will flow.
But oh I'll think no more! the hand of fate

Has torn thee from me, and I must forget thee.

PORTIU S.

Hard-hearted, cruel maid!

LUCIA.

Oh ftop thofe founds,

Those killing founds! why doft thou frown upon me?

My blood runs cold, my heart forgets to heave,

And life itself goes out at thy difpleasure.

The Gods forbid us to indulge our loves;

But oh! I cannot bear thy hate, and live!

PORTIUS.

Talk not of love: thou never knew'ft its force.

I've been deluded, led into a dream

Of fancied blifs. Oh Lucia, cruel maid!

Wretch that I am! what has my rashness done!
Lucia, thou injur'd innocence! thou best

And lovelieft of thy fex! awake, my Lucia,
Or Portius rushes on his fword to join thee.
Her imprecations reach not to the tomb,

They fhut not out fociety in death

But hah! fhe moves! life wanders up and down
Through all her face, and lights up every charm.
LUCIA.

O Portius, was this well!

to frown on her

That lives upon thy fmiles! to call in doubt
The faith of one expiring at thy feet,
That loves thee more than ever woman lov'd!

-What do I say? my half-recover'd sense
Forgets the Vow in which my foul is bound.
Destruction ftands betwixt us! we muft part.

PORTIU S.

Name not the word; my frighted thoughts run back, And ftartle into madness at the found.

LUCIA.

What would't thou have me do? confider well The train of ills our love would draw behind it.