do I think on what he was? he's dead!
He's dead, and never knew how much I loved him!
Lucia, who knows but his poor, bleeding heart,
Amidst its agonies, remember'd Marcia,
And the last words he utter'd call'd me cruel!
Alas! he knew not, hapless youth, he knew not
Marcia's whole soul was full of love and Juba!

_Jub._ Where am I? Do I live? or am indeed
What Marcia thinks? All is Elysium round me!

_Marcia._ Ye dear remains of the most loved of men,
Nor modesty nor virtue here forbid
A last embrace, while thus----

_Jub._ See, Marcia, see, [_Throwing himself before her._
The happy Juba lives! he lives to catch
That dear embrace, and to return it too,
With mutual warmth, and eagerness of love.

_Marcia._ With pleasure and amaze I stand transported!
If thou art Juba, who lies there?

_Jub._ A wretch,
Disguised like Juba on a cursed design.
I could not bear
To leave thee in the neighbourhood of death,
But flew, in all the haste of love, to find thee;
I found thee weeping, and confess this once,
Am rapt with joy, to see my Marcia's tears.

_Marcia._ I've been surprised in an unguarded hour,
But must not go back; the love, that lay
Half smother'd in my breast, has broke through all
Its weak restraints, and burns in its full lustre.
I cannot, if I would, conceal it from thee.

_Jub._ My joy, my best beloved, my only wish!
How shall I speak the transport of my soul!

_Marcia._ Lucia, thy arm. Lead to my apartment.
Oh! prince! I blush to think what I have said,
But fate has wrested the confession from me;
Go on, and prosper in the paths of honour.
Thy virtue will excuse my passion for thee,
And make the gods propitious to our love.
[_Exeunt_ MARCIA _and_ LUCIA.

_Jub._ I am so blest, I fear 'tis all a dream.
Fortune, thou now hast made amends for all
Thy past unkindness: I absolve my stars.
What though Numidia add her conquer'd towns
And provinces to swell the victor's triumph,
Juba will never at his fate repine:
Let Caesar have the world, if Marcia's mine. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_The Street._

_A March at a distance._

_Enter_ CATO _and_ LUCIUS.

_Luc._ I stand astonish'd! What, the bold Sempronius,
That still broke foremost through the crowd of patriots,
As with a hurricane of zeal transported,
And virtuous even to madness--

_Cato._ Trust me, Lucius,
Our civil discords have produced such crimes,
Such monstrous crimes, I am surprized at nothing.
--Oh Lucius, I a