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SCENE III - Joseph Addison, Cato: A Tragedy and Selected Essays [1710]

Edition used:

Cato: A Tragedy and Selected Essays, ed. by Christine Dunn Henderson and Mark E. Yellin, with a Foreword by Forrest McDonald (Indianapolis: Liberty Fund, 2004).

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.


SCENE III

Marcus, Portius.

Marcus

  • Portius, what hopes? how stands she? am I doomed
  • To life or death?

Portius

  •   What wouldst thou have me say?

Marcus

  • What means this pensive posture? thou appear’st
  • Like one amazed and terrified.

Portius

  •   I’ve reason.

Marcus

  • Thy downcast looks and thy disordered thoughts
  • Tell me my fate. I ask not the success
  • My cause has found.

Portius

  •   I’m grieved I undertook it.

Marcus

  • What! does the barbarous4 maid insult my heart,
  • My aching heart! and triumph in my pains?
  • That I could cast her from my thoughts for ever!

Portius

  • Away! you’re too suspicious in your griefs;
  • Lucia, though sworn never to think of love,
  • Compassionates5 your pains, and pities you.

Marcus

  • Compassionates my pains, and pities me!
  • What is compassion when ’tis void of love?
  • Fool that I was to choose so cold a friend
  • To urge my cause! compassionates my pains!
  • Prithee what art, what rhetoric didst thou use
  • To gain this mighty boon? She pities me!
  • To one that asks the warm return of love,
  • Compassion’s cruelty, ’tis scorn, ’tis death—

Portius

  • Marcus, no more! have I deserved this treatment?

Marcus

  • What have I said! O Portius, O forgive me!
  • A soul exasperated in ills fall out
  • With everything, its friend, its self—but, hah!
  • What means that shout, big with the sounds of war?
  • What new alarm?

Portius

  •   A second, louder yet,
  • Swells in the winds, and comes more full upon us.

Marcus

  • Oh for some glorious cause to fall in battle!
  • Lucia, thou hast undone me! thy disdain
  • Has broke my heart: ’tis death must give me ease.

Portius

  • Quick, let us hence; who knows if Cato’s life
  • Stands sure? O Marcus, I am warmed, my heart
  • Leaps at the trumpet’s voice, and burns for glory.

[4. ]See I.4, p. 18, n. 28.

[5. ]Treats with compassion; pities.