There live retir'd:

Content thyself to be obscurely good':

When vice prevails, and impious men bear sway,
The post of honour is a private station.

Por. I hope, my father does not recommend

A life to Porcius, that he scorns himself.

Cato. Farewell, my friends! [Lucius and Senators, who are R. join the other Senators L.] If there be any of you

Who dare not trust the victor's clemency,

Know, there are ships prepar'd by my command,
Their sails already opening to the winds,

That shall convey you to the wish'd-for port.
Is there aught else, my friends, I can do for you?
The conqueror draws near. Once more, farewell!
If e'er we meet hereafter, we shall meet
'In happier climes, and on a safer shore,
Where Cæsar never shall approach us more.

[Pointing to the Bier.
There the brave youth, with love of virtue fir'd,
Who greatly in his country's cause expir'd,
Shall know he conquer'd. The firm patriot there,
Who made the welfare of mankind his care,
Though still by faction, vice, and fortune cross'd,
Shall find the generous labour was not lost.

[The four Soldiers take up the Bier.-A dead March sounds in the Orchestra.-Exeunt Lucius and Senators, two by two-CATO-Bier, attended as before-PORCIUS and JUBA-Eagle-Fasces, two by two-Ensigns, S. P. Q. R.-Ensigns, Pateras -Guards, &c.

END OF ACT IV.

w's this?-My son! Why his intrTIAL.COM *
orders that I would be private?

isobey'd}

my father!

this sword? this instrument of teath?
y it hence,

youth, forbear!

the prayers, the entreaties of zone Penda, their common danger, ventrom zon ald's thou betray me? wond' than gre

tive, into Cæsar's hands?

earn obedience to a father;
ing man

not thus sternly on ne

'd rather die than use 71.

well: again I'n master of my bed

let thy troops beet our garan
avenue; thy gathering four
he sea, and stop my pos
pen to himself a page.
ly hopes.

reels, a. c.] 0, dr, burg se j

hangs heavy on hiu 16), my tim ure it is not the last t

call you so:- way N,

ngry with me, whilst I wory,

sh of my heart, aww 199
purpose of you movi

Says his bund ye kia baud

I will be wet, wypis

cham Į kerk, snyrti sýkiyah,
A prota hist

ACT V.

SCENE I-A Chamber in the Palace.-CATO dis-
covered, sitting as in deep meditation, holding in
his hand Plato's book on the Immortality of the
Soul:-
:—a drawn sword lying by him on the table.
Cato. It must be so ;-Plato, thou reasonest well ;—
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?

Or whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself and startles at destruction?
'Tis the Divinity that stirs within us ;

"Tis Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.

Eternity!-[Rises and comes forward.]—Thou pleasing, dreadful, thought!—

Through what variety of untried being,

Through what new scenes and changes must we pass !
The wide, the unbounded prospect lies before me,
But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it.-
Here will I hold: If there's a Power above us-
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud

Through all her works-he must delight in virtue;
And that which he delights in must be happy.)

But when? or where? This world was made for
Cæsar.-

I'm weary of conjectures: This must end 'em.

[Goes back to the table, laying his hand on his sword.

Thus am I doubly arm'd: my death and life,

My bane and antidote, are both before me:

This in a moment brings me to an end;

But this informs me, I shall never die.

[Comes forward with a roll of paper and a sword. The soul, secur'd in her existence, smiles

At the drawn dagger, and defies its point.-
The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age, and nature sink in years;
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth,
Unhurt amidst the war of elements,

The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds.—
What means this heaviness that hangs upon me?

Nature oppress'd, and harass'd out with care,
Sinks down to rest. This once I'll favour her,
That my awaken'd soul may take her flight,
Renew'd in all her strength, and fresh with life,
An offering fit for heaven. Let guilt or fear
Disturb man's rest: Cato knows neither of 'em,
Indifferent in his choice to sleep or die.-

[Returns and sits.

Enter PORCIUS, R.

But hah! how's this?-My son! Why this intrusion? Were not my orders that I would be private?

Why am I disobey'd?

Por. Alas, my father!

What means this sword? this instrument of death?
Let me convey it hence,

Cato. Rash youth, forbear!

[Takes it up.

Por. O let the prayers, the entreaties of your friends, Their tears, their common danger, wrest it from you. Cato. Would's thou betray me? would'st thou give

me up,

A slave, a captive, into Cæsar's hands?
Retire and learn obedience to a father;
Or know, young man-

Por. Look not thus sternly on me :
You know I'd rather die than disobey you.

[Rises.

[Lays it down. Cato. 'Tis well: again I'm master of myself.

[CATO takes the sword.

Now, Cæsar, let thy troops beset our gates,
And bar each avenue; thy gathering fleets
O'erspread the sea, and stop up every port;
Cato shall open to himself a passage,
And mock thy hopes.

[Comes forward, R. Por. [Kneels, R. c.] O, sir, forgive your son, Whose grief hangs heavy on him!-O, my fatherHow am I sure it is not the last time

I e'er shall call you so :-be not displeas'd,
O, be not angry with me, whilst I weep,
And, in the anguish of my heart, beseech you
To quit the dreadful purpose of your soul.
Cato. Thou hast been ever good and dutiful.

[Lays his hand on his head.
Weep not, my son; all will be well again :
The righteous gods, whom I have sought to please,
Will succour Cato, and protect his children."