So, where our wide Numidian wastes extend,
Sudden th'impetuous hurricanes descend,
Wheel through the air, in circling eddies play,
Tear up the sands, and sweep whole plains away.
The helpless traveller, with wild surprise,
Sees the dry desert all around him rise,

And smother'd in the dusty whirlwind, dies.

[Exeunt, L

END OF ACT II.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-A Portico of the Palace.

Enter MARCUS, L. and PORCIUS, R,

Mar. (L. c.) Thanks to my stars, I have not rang'd about

The wilds of life, ere I could find a friend:
Nature first pointed out my Porcius to me,
And early taught me, by her secret force,
To love thy person, ere I knew thy merit;
Till what was instinct, grew up into friendship.
Por. (R. C.) The friendships of the world are oft, my
brother,

Confed'racies in vice, or leagues of pleasure;

Ours has severest virtue for its basis,

And such a friendship ends not but with life.

Mar. Porcius, thou know'st my soul in all its weak

ness;

Then, pry'thee, spare me on its tender side;

Indulge me but in love, my other passions

Shall rise and fall by virtue's nicest rules.

Por. When love's well tim'd, 'tis not a fault to love: The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise Sink in the soft captivity together.

I would not urge thee to dismiss thy passion,

I know 'twere vain; but to suppress its force,
Till better times may make it look more graceful.
Mar. Alas! thou talk'st like one who never felt
The impatient throbs and longings of a soul
That pants and reaches after distant good.
A lover does not live by vulgar time:
In every moment of my Lucia's absence
Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burthen;
And yet, when I behold the charming maid,
I'm ten times more undone; while hope, and fear,
And grief, and rage, and love, rise up at once,
And with variety of pain distract me. (R.)

Por. (c.) What can I say, or do, to give thee help?
Mar. (R.c.) Porcius, thou oft enjoy'st the fair one's
presence:

Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her
With all the strength and heat of eloquence
Fraternal love and friendship can inspire.
Tell her, thy brother languishes to death,
And fades away, and withers in his bloom;
That he forgets his sleep, and loathes his food,
That youth, and health, and war, are joyless to him:
Describe his anxious days, and restless nights,
And all the torments that thou see'st me suffer.
Por. I do intreat thee, give me not an office
That suits with me so ill:-thou know'st my temper.
Mar. Can'st thou behold me sinking in my woes,
And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm,
To raise me from amidst this plunge of sorrows?
O, Porcius, Porcius, from my soul I wish
Thou didst but know thyself what 'tis to love:
Then would'st thou pity and assist thy brother.

[Goes R.

Por. [Aside.] What should I do? If I disclose my
passion,

Our friendship's at an end: if I conceal it,
The world will call me false to a friend and brother.
Mar. (R.) But see where Lucia, at her wonted hour,
Amid the cool of yon high marble arch,

Enjoys the noon-day breeze! Behold her! Porcius, That face, that shape, those eyes, that heaven of beauty!

Observe her well, and blame me if thou canst.
Por. She sees us, and advances.

Mar. I'll withdraw,

And leave you for a while. Remember, Porcius,
Thy brother's life depends upon thy tongue. [Exit, R.

Enter LUCIA, L.

Luc. (R. C.) Did I not see your brother Marcus

here ?

Why did he fly the place, and shun my presence

?

Por. (c.) O, Lucia, language is too faint to show
His rage of love; it preys upon his life;
He pines, he sickens, he despairs, he dies.
My heart bleeds for him:

Even now, while thus I stand blest in thy presence,
A secret damp of grief comes o'er my thoughts,
And I'm unhappy, though thou smil'st upon me.

Luc. How wilt thou guard thy honour in the shock Of love and friendship? Think betimes, my Porcius, Think how the nuptial tie, that might ensure

Our mutual bliss, would raise to such a height
Thy brother's griefs, as might, perhaps, destroy him.
Por. Alas, poor youth! What dost thou think, my

Lucia?

His generous, open, undesigning heart

Has begg'd his rival to solicit for him :
Then do not strike him dead with a denial;
But hold him up in life, and cheer his soul
With the faint glimmering of a doubtful hope:
Perhaps, when we have pass'd these gloomy hours,
And weather'd out the storm that beats upon us-
Luc. No, Porcius, no: I see thy sister's tears,
Thy father's anguish, and thy brother's death,
In the pursuit of our ill-fated loves:

And, Porcius, here I swear-[Kneels.]—to heaven I

swear,

To heaven, and all the powers that judge mankind,
Never to join my plighted hand with thine,

While such a cloud of mischief hangs about us—
But to forget our loves, and drive thee out

From all my thoughts, as far-as I am able.

Por. [Raises her.] What hast thou said? Recall those hasty words,

Or I am lost for ever.

Luc. Think, Porcius, think thou see'st thy dying brother

Stabb'd at his heart, and all besmear'd with blood,
Storming at heaven and thee. Thy awful sire

Sternly demands the cause, the accursed cause
That robs him of his son.-Farewell, my Porcius!
Farewell, though death is in the word, for ever!

Por. Thou must not go; my soul still hovers o'er thee,

And can't get loose.

Luc. If the firm Porcius shake

To hear of parting, think what Lucia suffers.
But see, thy brother Marcus bends this way;

[Crosses to L.

I sicken at the sight. Once more, farewell!
Farewell!-and know, thou wrong'st me, if thou

think'st

Ever was love, or ever grief, like mine.

Enter MARCUS, R.

[Exit, L.

Mar. (R.c.) Porcius, what hopes? How stands she? Am I doom'd

To life or death?

Por. (c.) What would'st thou have me say?

Mar. Thy downcast looks, and thy disorder'd thoughts,

Tell me my fate: I ask not the success

My cause has found.

Por. I'm griev'd I undertook it.

Mar. What! does the barbarous maid insult my heart,

And triumph in my pains?

Por. Away! you're too suspicious in your griefs:
Lucia, though sworn never to think of love,
Compassionates your pains, and pities you.

Mar. Compassionates my pains, and pities me!
What is compassion, when 'tis void of love?—
Fool that I was, to choose so cold a friend
To urge my cause!-Compassionates my pains!
To one that asks the warm returns of love,
Compassion's cruelty-'tis scorn-'tis death.

[Crosses to L. Por. Marcus, no more! Have I deserv'd this treatment?

Mar. What have I said?-O, Porcius! O, forgive

me!

A soul exasperated in ills, falls out
With every thing, its friends, itself.-

[Trumpets, &c. L.

But hah!

What means that sound, big with the threat of war? What new alarm? [Trumpets again, L.

Por. (L.) A second, louder yet, Swells in the winds, and comes more full upon us. Mar. Oh, for some glorious cause to fall in battle ! Lucia, thou hast undone me: thy disdain Has broke my heart: 'tis death must give me ease. Por. Quick, let us hence: who knows if Cato's life Stands sure? O, Marcus, I am on fire; my heart Leaps at the trumpet's voice, and burns for glory. [Exeunt, L.-Trumpets, &c. L. till SEMPRONIUS enters,

SCENE II.-A Square before the Palace. Enter SEMPRONIUS, L. JUNIUS, TITUS, and other Mutineers.

Sem. (c.) At length the winds are rais'd, the storm blows high!

Be it your care, my friends, to keep it up

In its full fury, and direct it right,

Till it has spent itself on Cato's head.

Meanwhile, I'll herd among his friends, and seem
One of the number; that, whate'er arrive,

My friends and fellow-soldiers may be safe. [Exit, L.
Jun. We are all safe; Sempronius is our friend.-
[Trumpels, Li

Hark! Cato enters.-Bear up boldly to him;
This day will end our toils, and give us rest.—
Fear nothing; for Sempronius is our friend.

[Trumpets, L.

Enter CATO, PORCIUS, MARCUS, LUCIUS, SEMPRO-
NIUS, and Senators, L.

Ensign, Eagle, Lictors, Guards, L. §. E.
Mutineers stand R.

Cato. (L. c.) Where are these bold intrepid sons of

war

That greatly turn their backs upon the foe,

And to their general send a brave defiance?

Sem. [Aside, L.] Curse on their dastard souls, they stand astonish'd!

Cato. (c.) Perfidious men !-and will you thus hishonour