Enter LUCIA. LUCIA. Where is your father, Marcia, where is Cato? MARCIA. Lucia, fpeak low; he is retir'd to rest. Lucia, I feel a gently-dawning hope Rise in my soul. We shall be happy still. LUCIA. Alas, I tremble when I think on Cato. He knows not how to wink at human frailty, MARCIA. Thongh ftern and awful to the foes of Rome, He is all goodness, Lucia, always mild, Compaffionate, and gentle to his friends. Fill'd with domestic tenderness, the best, The kindeft father! I have ever found him Easy and good, and bounteous to my wishes. LUCIA. 'Tis his confent alone can make us blefs'd. Thy brother Marcus, whom we both lament MARCIA. And ever fhall lament, unhappy youth! LUCIA. Has fet my foul at large, and now I stand Who knows how yet he may dispose of Portius, MARCIA. Let him but live! commit the reft to heaven. Enter LUCIUS. LUCIUS. Sweet are the flumbers of the virtuous man! O Marcia, I have seen thy godlike father: Some power invifible fupports his foul, And bears it up in all its wonted greatness. A kind refreshing fleep is fall'n upon him : I faw him stretch'd at ease, his fancy loft In pleafing dreams; as I drew near his couch, He fmil'd, and cry'd, Cæfar, thou canst not hurt me! MARCI A. His mind ftill labours with fome dreadful thought. LUCIUS. Lucia, why all this grief, thefe floods of forrow? Dry up thy tears, my child; we all are fafe Enter JUBA. Lucius, the horsemen are return'd from viewing The number, ftrength, and posture of our foes, Who now encamp within a fhort hour's march. On On the high point of yon bright western tower Plays on their fhining arms and burnish'd helmets, LUCIUS. Marcia, 'tis time we should awake thy father. Cæfar is ftill dispos'd to give us terms, And waits at diftance 'till he hears from Cato. Enter PORTIUS. Portius, thy looks speak fomewhat of importance. PORTIUS. As I was hafting to the port, where now "My father's friends, impatient for a paffage, Accufe the lingering winds, a fail arriv'd From Pompey's fon, who through the realms of Spain Calls out for vengeance on his father's death, And rouzes the whole nation up to arms. Were Cato at their head, once more might Rome 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 prefence. LUCIUS. Cato, amidst his flumbers, thinks on Rome, Mourns o'er his country; ha! a fecond groan !- MARCIA. MARCI A. Alas! 'tis not the voice Of one who fleeps! 'tis agonizing pain, "Tis death is in that found Re-enter PORTIUS. PORTIU S. O fight of woe! O Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass! LUCIUS. O Portius, Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale, And let us guess the rest. PORTIUS. I've rais'd him up, And plac'd him in his chair, where, pale and faint, He gafps for breath, and, as his life flows from him, Demands to fee his friends. His weeping fervants, Obfequious to his orders, bear him hither. [The back Scene opens, and difcovers CATO. MARCI A. O heaven, affift me in this dreadful hour To pay the last sad duties to my father! JUBA. These are thy triumphs, thy exploits, O Cæfar! LUCIU S. Now is Rome fall'n indeed! [CATO brought forward in his chair. «САТО. САТО. Here fet me down Portius, come near me-are my friends embark'd? -O Lucius, art thou here?—Thou art too good !— Let this our friendship live between our children ; Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia. Alas poor man, he weeps !-Marcia, my daughter-O bend me forward !-Juba loves thee, Marcia. A Senator of Rome, while Rome furviv'd, Would not have match'd his daughter with a king, On my departing foul. Alas, I fear I've been too hasty. O ye powers, that search The best may err, but you are good, and-o [Dies. LUCIU S. There fled the greatest soul that ever warm'd |