Delight of every eye; when he appear'd, [Aside. Jub. What means that voice? did she not call on Juba ? Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee, And make the gods propitious to our love. [Exeunt Mar. and Luc. Jub. I am so blest, I fear 'tis all a dream. Mar. Why do I think on what he was? he's dead! He's dead, and never knew how much I lov'd [Throwing himself before her. he happy Juba lives! He lives to catch hat dear embrace, and to return it too With mutual warmth and eagerness of love. Mar. With pleasure and amaze I stand ported! ure 'tis a dream! dead and alive at once! thou art Juba, who lies there? Jub. A wretch, [Exit. Luc. I stand astonish'd! What, the bold Sempronius, [triots, That still broke foremost thro' the crowd of pa As with a hurricane of zeal transported, And virtuous even to madness Cuto. Trust me, Lucius, Our civil discords have produc'd such crimes, Enter Portius. But see where Portius comes: what means this trans-Why are thy looks thus chang'd? isguis'd like Juba on a curst design. he tale is long, nor have I heard it out: by father knows it all. I could not bear o leave thee in the neighbourhood of death, at flew, in all the haste of love, to find thee; found thee weeping, and confess this once, wrapt with joy to see my Marcia's tears. Mar. I've been surpris'd in an unguarded hour, ut must not now go back; the love that lay lalf smother'd in my breast, has broke thro' all 3 weak restraints, and burns in its full lustre. cannot, if I would, conceal it from thee. Jul. I am lost in extacy: and dost thou love, hou charming maid?-- Mar. And dost thou live to ask it? Jub. This, this is life indeed! life worth preserving, uch life as Juba never felt till now! Mar. Believe me, prince, before I thought thee dead, did not know myself how much I lov'd thee. Jub. O fortunate mistake! Mar. O happy Marcia! I bring such news as will afflict my father. The traitor Syphax, as within the square Flew off at once with his Numidian horse I saw, and call'd to stop him, but in vain : see Is Cæsar's! Cato has no business in it. Luc. While pride, oppression, and injustice reign, The world will still demand her Cato's presence. In pity to mankind submit to Cæsar, And reconcile thy mighty soul to life. Cato. Would Lucius have me live to swell the number Of Cæsar's slaves, or by a base submission Jub. My joy, my best belov'd, my only wish! ment. prince, I blush to think what I have said, Bat fate has wrested the confession from me ; Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour. Cato. Curse on his virtues! they've undone his country. popular humanity is treason-----But see young Juba; the good youth appears, Full of the guilt of his perfidious subjects! Luc. Alas! poor prince! his fate deserves compassion. Enter O'erflows with secret joy: I'd rather gain Por. Misfortune on misfortune! grief on grief! My brother Marcus- Cato. Hah! what has he done? Has he forsook his post? Has he given way? Por. Nor did he fall before His sword had pierc'd thro' the false heart of phax, Rise in my soul-How shall I save my friend? Sy-Tis now, O Cæsar, I begin to fear thee. Yonder he lies. I saw the hoary traitor -Portius, when I am dead, be sure you place Por. Long may they keep asunder! [ence; Luc. O Cato, arm thy soul with all its patiSee where the corpse of thy dead son approaches! The citizens and senators, alarm'd, Have gather'd round it, and attend it weeping. Cato, meeting the Corpse. Cato. Welcome, my son here lay him down, my friends, Full in my sight, that I may view at leisure I should have blush'd if Cato's house had stood Luc. Cæsar has mercy, if we ask it of ha Cato. Then ask it, I conjure you! let him k Whate'er was done against him, Cato did it. And, if you please, that I request it of him, That I myself, with tears, request it of him, The virtue of my friends may pass unpunish Juba, my heart is troubled for thy sake. Should I advise thee to regain Numidia, Or seek the conqueror? Jub. If I forsake thee Whilst I have life, may Heaven abandon Jeba Cato. Thy virtues, prince, if I foresee ar Will one day make thee great; at Rome, be after, Twill be no crime to have been Cato's friend Portius, draw near: my son, thou oft hast s Thy sire engag'd in a corrupted state, Wrestling with vice and faction: now thou se There live retir'd, pray for the peace of Rome; Unhurt amidst the war of elements, Cato. Farewell, my friends! if there be any of you Who dare not trust the victor's clemency, [Pointing to his dead Son. ACT V. [Exeunt. ato solus, sitting in a thoughtful Posture; in his Hand Plato's Book on the Immortality of the Soul. A drawn Sword on the Table by him. The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds. - But ah! how's this, my son? Why this intro sion? Were not my orders that I would be private ? Por. Alas, my father! What means this sword, this instrument of Cato. Rash youth, forbear! Por. O, let the pray'rs, th' entreaties of your friends, Their tears, their common danger, wrest it from you! Cato; Wouldst thou betray me? Wouldst thou A slave, a captive into Cesar's hands? Por. Look not thus sternly on me; I must be so-Plato, thou reason'st well- O'erspread the sea, and stop up ev'ry port; Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond de-Cato shall open to himself a passage, his longing after immortality? [sire, whence this secret dread, and inward horror f falling into nought? Why shrinks the soul ack on herself, and startles at destruction? is the divinity that stirs within us; is heaven itself that points out an hereafter, nd intimates eternity to man: ternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought! brough what variety of untried being, [pass?) hro' what new scenes and changes must we he wide,th'unbounded prospect lies before me, at shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. lere will I hold. If there's a power above Aud that there is all nature cries aloud, hrough all her works) he must delight in vir tue; and that which he delights in must be happy. 'm weary of conjectures-this must end 'em. And mock thy hopes Por. O Sir! forgive your son, I e'er shall call you so? Be not displeas'd, Cato. Thou hast been ever good and dutiful. Weep not, my son, all will be well again; Will succour Cato, and preserve his children. [duct; Cato. Portius, thou mayst rely upon my conThy father will not act what misbecomes him. But go, my son, and see if aught be wanting Among thy father's friends; see them embark'd, And tell me if the winds and seas befriend them. My soul is quite weigh'd down with care, and asks The soft refreshment of a moment's sleep. [Erit. Por. My thoughts are more at ease, my heart revives. He is retir'd to rest, and seems to cherish Thoughts full of peace. He has dispatch'd me hence With orders that bespeak a mind compos'd, Watch round his couch, and soften his repose, Luc. Where is your father, Marcia, where is Mar. Lucia, speak low, he is retir'd to rest. He knows not how to wink at human frailty, Mar. Tho' stern and awful to the foes of He is all goodness, Lucie, always mild, thoughts? [bless'd. Who knows how yet he may dispose of Portius, Or how he has determin'd of thyself? Mar. Let him but live, commit the rest to Heaven. What tidings dost thou bring? Methinks I œ Unusual gladness sparkling in thine eyes. Por. As I was hasting to the port, where tow My father's friends, impatient for a passage, Accuse the ling ring winds, a sail arriv'd From Pompey's son, who thro'the realms of Spa Calls out for vengeance on his father's death, And rouses the whole nation up to arms. Were Cato at their head, once more might Res Assert her rights, and claim her liberty. But, hark! what means that groan? O, give Luc. O, Portius, Hide all the horrors of thy mournful tale, And let us guess the rest. Por. I've rais'd him up, And plac'd him in his chair, where, pale and fi He gasps for breath, and, as his life flows fr him, Demands to see his friends. His servants, w Obsequious to his order, bear him hither. Mar. O Heaven! assist me in this dread To pay the last sad duties to my father. [he Jub. These are thy triumphs, thy exploits, Cæsar! O, bend me forward!—Juba loves thee, Marcia, A senator of Rome, while Rome surviv'd, Would not have match'd his daughter with a king; But Cæsar's arms have thrown down all distinc tion: While from the banks full twenty thousand cities As in a sea, yet not confin'd in space, $51. Rural Courtship. DRYDEN. Above the maidens of my age and rank; Still shunn'd their company, and still sought mine. I was not won by gifts, yet still he gave; [Exeunt omnes.§ FORTH from the thicket rush'd another boar, $ 53. The first Feats of a young Eagle. Rows. So large, he seem'd the tyrant of the woods, § 50. Description of a populous City. YoUNG. How wanton sits she amidst nature's So the Eagle, [Jove, |