_Marcia_ Oh, Lucia, Lucia, might my big swol'n heart Vent all its griefs, and give a loose to sorrow, Marcia could answer thee in sighs, keep pace With all thy woes, and count out tear for tear. _Lucia._ I know thou'rt doom'd alike to be beloved By Juba, and thy father's friend, Sempronius: But which of these has power to charm like Portius? _Marcia._ Still, I must beg thee not to name Sempronius. Lucia, I like not that loud, boist'rous man. Juba, to all the bravery of a hero, Adds softest love, and more than female sweetness; Juba might make the proudest of our sex, Any of womankind, but Marcia, happy. _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 Sempronius? _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_ SEMPRONIUS, _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? Sempronius! _Sem._ My sword shall answer thee. Have at thy heart. _Jub._ Nay then, beware thy own, proud, barbarous man. [SEMPRONIUS _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? Gods, 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!