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SCEN. V.

Martian taken for Leontius, Pulcheria, her Women.
PULC:
Thou soul of Goodness, and of Greatness both!
How I do love the Son, the Father loath?
Thus they divide betwixt them love and hate:
For what I owe to thee, he did create.

MARTIAN
taken for Leontius.
All that proceeds from him is greater made;
This glorious Sun yields me a happy shade:
My heart long scorcht by your bright beauties beams,
He gain'd me from you sweet refreshing streams;
Since thus by both your favours then I live,
My life's a debt i'le pay, and nothing give;
But you being still the Tyrant's Ostage here,
Whatever we can act, begets my fear,
Unless we shall attempt to scape his hand,
Forcing his Guard with those that I command:
Or else design in some disguise to flie.

PULC:
All flight doth either guilt, or fear imply.

13

We're in a storm, tost by our hope and fear;
Let honour hold the helm, and our Barque steer:
To make me die must prove the Tyrants shame,
While bravely suffring does increase my fame.

MARTIAN
taken for Leontius.
But, Madam, we must suffer, if you do;
If we lose you, we lose our honour too:
We must not live, yet suffer you to die,
One stroke frees you, and ends his Tyranny.

His hand to his sword.
PUL:
By that one stroke your life too must have end.
Who then survives Pulcheria to defend?
And yet some hand the danger does invite;
When all is danger, we should danger slight.
But let us first with trusty friends survey
The safest means, and the securest way.

MARTIAN
taken for Leontius.
While Vertue thus and Honour we pursue,
Death has his Conquest, and just Laurels too.

Exeunt.