Cato: A Tragedy, and Selected Essays

ACT III

1. Most particular, precise, or strict. ACT III—scene i Marcus, Portius. Marcus Thanks to my stars, I have not ranged about The wilds of life, ere I could find a friend; Nature first pointed out my Portius to me, And early taught me, by her secret force, To love thy person, ere I knew thy merit; 5 Till, what was instinct, grew up into friendship. Portius Marcus, the friendships of the world are oft Confederacies in vice, or leagues of pleasure; Ours has severest virtue for its basis, And such a friendship ends not but with life. 10 Marcus Portius, thou know’st my soul in all its weakness, Then prithee spare me on its tender side, Indulge me but in love, my other passions Shall rise and fall by virtue’s nicest1 rules. Portius When love’s well-timed ’tis not a fault to love; 15 The strong, the brave, the virtuous, and the wise Sink in the soft captivity together. I would not urge thee to dismiss thy passion, (I know ’twere vain,) but to suppress its force, Till better times may make it look more graceful. 20 56 cato, a tragedy 2. Ordinary, common, customary. Marcus Alas! thou talk’st like one who never felt The impatient throbs and longings of a soul That pants and reaches after distant good. A lover does not live by vulgar2 time: Believe me, Portius, in my Lucia’s absence 25 Life hangs upon me, and becomes a burden; And yet, when I behold the charming maid, I’m ten times more undone; while hope, and fear, And grief, and rage, and love, rise up at once, And with variety of pain distract me. 30 Portius What can thy Portius do to give thee help? Marcus Portius, thou oft enjoy’st the fair one’s presence: Then undertake my cause, and plead it to her With all the strength and heats of eloquence Fraternal love and friendship can inspire. 35 Tell her thy brother languishes to death, And fades away, and withers in his bloom; That he forgets his sleep, and loathes his food, That youth, and health, and war, are joyless to him. Describe his anxious days and restless nights, 40 And all the torments that thou seest me suffer. Portius Marcus, I beg thee give me not an office That suiteth me so ill. Thou know’st my temper. Marcus Wilt thou behold me sinking in my woes? And wilt thou not reach out a friendly arm, 45 To raise me from amidst this plunge of sorrows? act iii 57 Portius Marcus, thou canst not ask what I’d refuse. But here believe me, I’ve a thousand reasons— Marcus I know thou’lt say my passion’s out of season; That Cato’s great example and misfortunes 50 Should both conspire to drive it from my thoughts. But what’s all this to one who loves like me! Oh, Portius, Portius, from my soul I wish Thou didst but know thyself what ’tis to love! Then wouldst thou pity and assist thy brother. 55 Portius What should I do? if I disclose my passion Our friendship’s at an end: if I conceal it, The world will call me false to a friend and brother. [Aside.] Marcus But see where Lucia, at her wonted hour, Amid the cool of yon high marble arch, 60 Enjoys the noon-day breeze! observe her, Portius! That face, that shape, those eyes, that heaven of beauty! Observe her well, and blame me, if thou canst. Portius She sees us, and advances— Marcus I’ll withdraw, And leave you for awhile. Remember, Portius, 65 Thy brother’s life depends upon thy tongue. 58 cato, a tragedy 3. Quickly, soon. scene ii Lucia, Portius. Lucia Did not I see your brother Marcus here? Why did he fly the place, and shun my presence? Portius Oh, Lucia, language is too faint to show His rage of love; it preys upon his life; He pines, he sickens, he despairs, he dies: 5 His passions and his virtues lie confused, And mixt together in so wild a tumult, That the whole man is quite disfigured in him. Heavens! would one think ’twere possible for love To make such ravage in a noble soul! 10 Oh, Lucia, I’m distrest! my heart bleeds for him; Ev’n now, while thus I stand blest...