MARCIA. Lucia, difburthen all thy cares on me, And let me share thy moft retir'd distress; Tell me who raises up this conflict in thee. LUCIA. I need not blush to name them, when I tell thee They 're Marcia's brothers, and the fons of Cato. MARCI A. They both behold thee with their fifter's eyes: LUCIA. Which is it Marcia wishes for? MARCI A. For neither And yet for both-The youths have equal fhare LUCIA. Marcia, they both are high in my esteem, But in my love-Why wilt thou make me name him? Thou know'st, it is a blind and foolish paffion, Pleas'd and disgusted with it knows not what. MARCIA: O Lucia, I'm perplex'd: O tell me which I must hereafter call my happy brother? LUCIA. Suppose 'twere Portius, could you blame my choice? O Portius, thou haft ftol'n away my foul! With what a graceful tenderness he loves! MARCIA. Alas, poor youth! how can't thou throw him from thee? And thinks, and talks, and looks like one transported. LUCIA. You feem to plead Against your brother Portius MARCIA. Heaven forbid ! Had Portius been the unsuccessful lover, The fame compaffion would have fall'n on him. LUCIA. Was ever virgin love diftreft like mine! Portius himself oft falls in tears before me, As if he mourn'd his rival's ill fuccefs, Then bids me hide the motions of my heart, Nor Nor fhow which way it turns. So much he fears MARCIA. He knows too well how eafily he's fir'd, And would not plunge his brother in despair, But waits for happier times, and kinder moments. LUCIA. Alas! too late I find myself involv'd And fow diffention in the hearts of brothers. MARCIA. Let us not, Lucia, aggravate our forrows, But to the gods permit th' event of things. Our lives, difcolour'd with our prefent woes, May ftill grow bright, and fmile with happier hours. So the pure limpid ftream, when foul with ftains Of rushing torrents, and descending rains, Work's itself clear, and, as it runs, refines; Till by degrees the floating mirrour fhines, Reflects each flower that on the border grows, And a new heaven in its fair bofom fhows. [Exeunt. END OF THE FIRST ACT. ACT II. SCENE I. R The SENATE. SEMPRONIUS. OME ftill furvives in this affembled fenate! Let us remember we are Cato's friends, Cato will foon be here, and open to us [A found of trumpets. May all the guardian gods of Rome direct him! Enter CATO. CATO. Fathers, we once again are met in council. Cæfar's approach has fummon'd us together, And Rome attends her fate from our refolves: How fhall we treat this bold aspiring man? Succefs ftill follows him, and backs his crimes : Pharfalia gave him Rome; Egypt has fince Receiv'd his yoke, and the whole Nile is Cæfar's. Why should I mention Juba's overthrow, And Scipio's death? Numidia's burning fands Still fmoak with blood. 'Tis time we fhould decree What course to take. Our foe advances on us, And envies us ev'n Libya's fultry defarts. Fathers, pronounce your thoughts, are they still fixt To hold it out, and fight it to the last ? >Or are your hearts subdued at length, and wrough By time and ill fuccefs to a submission? Sempronius, fpeak. SEMPRONIUS. My voice is still for war. Gods, can a Roman fenate long debate САТО. Let not torrent of impetuous zeal That juftice warrants, and that wisdom guides, |