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CA TO.

Here fet me down 'ortius, come near me are my friends embark'd ? Can any thing be thought of for their fervice ? Whilft 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 Portíus happy in thy daughter Lucia. Alas poor man, he weeps !--Marcia, my daughter - bend me forward !- Juba loves thee, Marcia. A Senator of Rome, while Rome furviv'd, Would not have match'd his daughter with a king, But Cæsar's arms have thrown down all distinction; Whoe'er is brave and virtuous, is a Roman -I 'm fick to death 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 foul. Alas, I fear
I've been too hasty. Oye powers, that search
The heart of man, and weigh his inmost thoughts,
If I have done amifs, impute it not !
The best may err, but you are good, and mo [ Dies.

LUCIUS.
There fled the greatest soul that ever warm’d
A Roman breast. O Cato! O my friend!
Thy will shall be religiously observ'd.
But let us bear this awful corpse to Cæsar,
And lay it in his fight, that it may

stand
A fence betwixt us and the victor's wrath ;
Cate, though dead, shall still protect his friends.

From hence, let fierce contending nations know
What dire effects from civil discord flow,
Tis this that shakes our country with alarms,
And gives up Rome a prey to Roman arms,
Produces fraud, and cruelty, and strife,
And robs the guilty world of Cato's life.

[Exeunt Omnes.

END OF THE FIFTH ACT,

ЕРЕ

EPILOGUE

WRITTEN BY SIR SAMUEL GARTH.

HAT odd fantastic things we women do !

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But die a maid, yet have the choice of two !
Ladies are often cruel to their colt:
To give you pain, themselves they punish most.
Vows of virginity should well be weigh’d;
Too oft they're cancel'd, though in convents made.
Would you revenge such rash resolves---you may
Be spiteful---and believe the thing we fay,
We hate you when you're easily said nay.
How needless, if you knew us, were your fears !
Let love have eyes, and beauty will have ears.
Qur hearts are form’d as you yourselves would chuse,
Too proud to ask, too humble to refuse :
We give to merit, and to wealth we sell :
He fighs with most success that settles well.
The woes of wedlock with the joys we mix :
'Tis best repenting in a coach and fix.

Blame not our conduct, since we but pursue
Those lively lesions we have learnt from you.
Your breasts no more the fire of beauty warms,
But wicked wealth usurps the power of charms.

z 2

What

What pains to get the gaudy thing you hate,
To swell in show, and be a wretch in ftate !
At plays you ogle, at the ring you bow;
Ev'n churches are no sanctuaries now :
There golden idols all your vows receive,
She is no goddess that has nought to give.
Oh, may once more the happy age appear,
When words were artless, and the thoughts fincere;
When gold and grandeur were unenvy'd things,
And courts less coveted than groves and springs :
Love then shall only mourn when truth complains,
And constancy feel transport in its chains :
Sighs with success their own soft anguish tell,
And

eyes shall utter what the lips conceal :
Virtue again to its bright station climb,
And beauty fear no enemy but time;
The fair shall listen to defert alone,
And every Lucia find a Cato's son.

CON

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