• The gods forbid us to indulge our loves, 'But oh! I cannot bear thy hate and live!

PORTIU S.

• Talk not of love, thou never knew'ft its force : I've been deluded, led into a dream,

⚫ Of fancied blifs. O Lucia, cruel maid!

་

Thy dreadful vow, loaden with death, still sounds

In my stunn'd ears. What shall I fay or do?

Quick, let us part! perdition's in thy prefence,

• And horror dwells about thee !-hah, 'she faints! • Wretch, that I am! what has my rashness done! Lucia, thou injur'd innocence! thou beft

And lovelieft of thy sex? awake, my Lucia, 'Or Portius rushes on his fword to join thee. -Her imprecations reach not to the tomb, They fhut not out fociety in death.

But hah! fhe moves! life wanders up and down Through all her face, andlights up every charm. LUCIA.

'O, Portius, was this well!-to frown on her

That lives upon thy fmiles! to call in doubt
The faith of one expiring at thy feet,

That loves thee more than ever woman lov'd!
-What do I say? my half-recover'd fenfe
Forgets the vow in which my foul is bound.
• Destruction ftands betwixt us! we must part.

PORTIUS.

'Name not the word, my frighted thoughts run back, And ftartle into madness at the found.

.. LUCIA...

• What would'ft thou have me do è confider well
• The train of ills our love wou'd draw behind it.'
Think, Portius, think thou feeft thy dying brother
Stabb'd at his heart, and all besmear'd with blood,
Storming at heav'n and thee! thy awful fire
Sternly demands the cause, th' accursed cause,
That robs him of his fon! poor Marcia trembles,
Then tears her hair, and frantic in her griefs
Calls out on Lucia! what could Lucia answer,
Or how stand up in such a scene of sorrow?

PORTIUS.

To my confufion, and eternal grief,

I must approve the sentence that destroys me,
The mist, that hung about my mind, clears up:
And now, athwart the terrors that thy vow
Has planted round thee, thou appear'st more fair,
More amiable, and rifeft in thy charms
Lovelieft of women! heav'n is in thy soul,
Beauty and virtue fhine for ever round thee,
Bright'ning each other! thou art all divine!

LUCIA.

Portius, no more! thy words fhoot thro' my heart,

Melt my refolves, and turn me all to love.

Why

Why are thofe tears of fondness in thy eyes,

Why heaves thy heart? why fwells thy foul with forrow?
It foftens me too much-farewel, my Portius,
Farewel, tho' death is in the found; for ever!

PORTIUS.

Stay, Lucia, ftay! what doft thou fay? For ever?

LUCIA.

Have I not fworn? if, Portius, thy fuccefs, Must throw thy brother on his fate, farewel, Oh, how fhall I repeat the word! For ever! PORTIU S.

Thus o'er the dying lamp, th' unfteady flame
Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits,
And falls again, as loth to quit its hold.

-Thou must not go, iny foul ftill hovers o'er thee,
And can't get loose.

LUCIA.

If the firm Portius fhake

To hear of parting, think what Lucia fuffers!

PORTIUS.

'Tis true; unruffled and ferene I've met

The common accidents of life, but here
Such an unlook'd-for ftorm of ills falls on me,
It beats down all my strength, I cannot bear it,
We must not part.

LUCIA.

What doft thou say? not part?

G 5

Haft

Haft thou forgot the vow that I have made?

Are there not heav'ns, and gods, and thunder o'er us! -But fee, thy brother Marcus bends this way!

I ficken at the fight. Once more, farewel,

Farewel, and know thou wrong'ft me, if thou think'ft Ever was love, or ever grief, like mine.

SCENE III.

MARCUS, PORTIUS.

MARCUS.

[Exit.

Portius, what hopes? how ftands fhe? am I doom'd To life or death?

PORTIU S.

What would't thou have me say?

MARCU S.

What means this penfive posture? thou appear'ft

Like one amazed and terrified.

I've reafon.

PORTIU S.

MARCU S.

Thy down-caft looks, and thy diforder'd thoughts Tell me my fate. I afk not the fuccefs

My cause has found.

PORTIU S.

I'm griev'd I undertook it.

MAR

MARCUS.

What? does the barbarous maid infult my heart,

My aking heart! and triumph in my pains?

That I could caft her from my thoughts for ever!

PORTIUS.

Away! you're too fufpicious in your griefs; Lucia, though fworn never to think of love, Compaffionates your pains, and pities you.

MARCUS.

Compaffionates my pains, and pities me !
What is compaffion when 'tis void of love?
Fool that I was, to choose so cold a friend
To urge my caufe! compaffionates my pains!
Pr'ythee what art, what rhetorick didft thou use
To gain the mighty boon? She pities me!
To one that asks the warm returns of love,
Compaffion's cruelty, 'tis fcorn, 'tis death-

PORTIU S.

Marcus, no more! have I deferv'd this treatment?

MARCUS.

What have I faid! O Portius! O forgive me!

A foul exafp'rated in ills falls out

With ev'ry thing, its friend, its self-but hah!

What means that shout, big with the sounds of war?

What new alarm?

PORTIU S.

A fecond, louder yet,

Swells