Part 9 (1/2)

_Lucia._ And why not Marcia? Come, you strive in vain To hide your thoughts from one who knows too well The inward glowings of a heart in love.

_Marcia._ While Cato lives, his daughter has no right To love or hate, but as his choice directs.

_Lucia._ But should this father give you to Semp.r.o.nius?

_Marcia._ I dare not think he will: but if he should-- Why wilt thou add to all the griefs I suffer, Imaginary ills, and fancied tortures?

I hear the sound of feet! They march this way.

Let us retire, and try if we can drown Each softer thought in sense of present danger: When love once pleads admission to our hearts, In spite of all the virtues we can boast, The woman that deliberates is lost. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ SEMp.r.o.nIUS, _dressed like_ JUBA, _with_ NUMIDIAN GUARDS.

_Sem._ The deer is lodged, I've track'd her to her covert.

How will the young Numidian rave to see His mistress lost! If aught could glad my soul, Beyond the enjoyment of so bright a prize, 'Twould be to torture that young, gay barbarian.

--But, hark! what noise! Death to my hopes! 'tis he, 'Tis Juba's self! there is but one way left----

_Enter_ JUBA.

_Jub._ What do I see? Who's this that dares usurp The guards and habits of Numidia's prince?

_Sem._ One that was born to scourge thy arrogance, Presumptuous youth!

_Jub._ What can this mean? Semp.r.o.nius!

_Sem._ My sword shall answer thee. Have at thy heart.

_Jub._ Nay then, beware thy own, proud, barbarous man.

[SEMp.r.o.nIUS _falls_.

_Sem._ Curse on my stars! Am I then doom'd to fall By a boy's hand, disfigured in a vile Numidian dress, and for a worthless woman?

G.o.ds, I'm distracted! this my close of life!

Oh, for a peal of thunder, that would make Earth, sea, and air, and heav'n, and Cato tremble! [_Dies._

_Jub._ I'll hence to Cato, That we may there at length unravel all This dark design, this mystery of fate. [_Exit_ JUBA.

_Enter_ LUCIA _and_ MARCIA.

_Lucia._ Sure 'twas the clash of swords; my troubled heart Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows, It throbs with fear, and aches at ev'ry sound.

Oh, Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sake-- I die away with horror at the thought!

_Marcia._ See, Lucia, see! here's blood! here's blood and murder!

Ha! a Numidian! Heav'n preserve the prince!

The face lies m.u.f.fled up within the garment, But ah! death to my sight! a diadem, And royal robes! O G.o.ds! 'tis he, 'tis he!

Juba lies dead before us!

_Lucia._ Now, Marcia, now, call up to thy a.s.sistance Thy wonted strength and constancy of mind; Thou canst not put it to a greater trial.

_Marcia._ Lucia, look there, and wonder at my patience; Have I not cause to rave, and beat my breast, To rend my heart with grief, and run distracted?

_Lucia._ What can I think, or say, to give thee comfort?

_Marcia._ Talk not of comfort, 'tis for lighter ills: Behold a sight that strikes all comfort dead.