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CATO.

Re-enter Portius.

Por. O sight of woe!
O Marcia, what we fear'd is come to pass!
Cato is fall'n upon his sword——

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 faint,
He gasps for breath, and, as his life flows from him,
Demands to see his friends. His servants weeping,
Obsequious to his orders, bear him hither.
[The back scene opens, and discovers Cato.

Marc. O heav'n assist me in this dreadful hour
To pay the last sad duties to my father.

Jub. These are thy triumphs, thy exploits, O Cesar!

Luc.Now is Rome fall'n indeed? ——
[Cato brought forward in his chair.

Cato. Here set me down——
Portius come near me—are my friends embark'd?
Can any thing be thought of for their service?
Whil'st I yet live, let me not live in vain.
— O Lucius, art thou here — Thou art too good——
Let this our friendship live between our children,
Make Portius happy in thy daughter Lucia.
Alas, poor man, he weeps!—Marcia, my daughter——
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 Cesar[{'}}s arms have thrown down all distinction;
Whoe'er is brave and virtuous, is a Roman——
— I'm sick to death — O when shall I get loose
From this vain world, th'abode of guilt and sorrow! ———
And yet, methinks, a beam of light breaks in
On my departing soul. Alas! I fear
I've been too hasty. O ye pow'rs that search
The heart of man, and weigh his inmost thoughts,
If I have done amiss, impute it not! ——
The best may err, but you are good, and — OH! [Dies.

Luc.There fled the greatest soul that ever warm'd.
A Roman breast; O Cato! O my friend!

Thy