University of Virginia Library

Scena Secunda.

Severus, Paulina, Stratonica, Fabian.
Paulina.
Tis true, Severus, I do love another,
And plead not here for't, every one
Except my self do flatter and abuse you;
Paulina hath a noble soul, and speaks
With open heart, the report of your death
Is not that which destroys you, if just heaven
Had put my marriage to my choice, I should
To your sole vertues, Sir, have given my self,
And all the rigour of our former fate
Against your merit had made vain attempts;
I saw in you Illustrious marks enough
To give you worthy preferrence even before
The happiest Monarchs; but since other Laws
My duty did impose, what ever Lover
My Father had assign'd me, though your valour
Had added to this greatness which it gave you,
The splendor of a Crown, though I lov'd you
And hated him, I should have sighed at it,
But yet I should obey, and o're my passions,
My reason being Soveraign, should have blam'd
My sighs, and dissipated all my hatred.

Sev.
How happie are you that a sigh or two
Can easily acquit you of your troubles!
So always absolute Queen of your desires,
The greatest changes find you still resolv'd;
Your spirit is carried in the strongest love
Unto indifference, and perhaps to scorn,
And your stout firmness without trouble makes
Favour succeed contempt, and love disdain.
Oh how a little of your humour, or
Rather your vertue would comfort the evils
Of this dejected heart! a sigh, a tear
Shed with regret, would have already cur'd me
Of losing you, my reason would prevail
Upon enfeebled love, and from indifference
Would go even to oblivion, and my fire
Henceforth commanding over yours, I should
Esteem me happy in anothers arms.
O too too lovely object, that hast charm'd me!
Must we thus love? is't so that you have lov'd me?

Paul.
I loved thee Severus, and if I
Could smother in my soul the flame remains there,
What rigorous torments, Gods, should I avoid!
'Tis true, my reason tames my passions,
But whatsoe're Authority she hath taken
Upon them, she raigns not, but tyrannizeth;
And though the outside be without commotion,
The inside is but trouble and sedition.
A certain charm, I know not what, inclines me
Towards you yet, your merit sure is great,
Although my reason's strong, I see it still,
Such as it lights my fires, so much more strongly
To work on my affections, as it is
Environed with puissance and glory;
I see that in all places after yon
It draws triumphant victory, that I
Best know the price on't, and that it hath not
Deceiv'd the generous hope I conceiv'd of it.
But that same duty which in Rome subdu'd it,
And makes me subject to the Law of Man here,
Repulseth still so strongly the assault
Of so many allurements, that it tears
My soul, but doth not shake it; 'tis that vertue
Even cruel to our own desires, which you
Should praise when you blaspheam it; if you please
You may complain on't, but yet praise its rigour
That triumpheth o're you and or'e my heart
At one time, lower thoughts could not have merited
That perfect love which you have born unto me.

Sev.
O sweet Paulina, pardon a blind grief,
Which knoweth nothing but excess of misery.
I named it inconstancy, and took
For crimes th'indeavours of a vertuous duty.
I do beseech you shew less to my senses
The greatness of my Loss, and of your worth,
And so through pitty hiding this rare vertue,
That feeds my fires even when she separates us,
Make some defects appear that may successively
Weaken my grief together with my love.

Paul.
Alas! this vertue, though invincible still,
Makes but appear a soul too sensible,
These tears are witnesses thereof, and these
Effeminate sighs which stir up the remembrance
Of our first fires, too rigorous effects
Of a beloved presence, against which
My duty hath too little of defence.
But if you do esteem this vertuous duty,
keep me the glory on't, and cease to see me,
Spare me those tears that trickle to my shame,
Spare me those tears that with grief I or'ecome,
Lastly spare me those sad discourses which
Do but stir up your torments and mine own.

Sev.
So shall I rob my self of the sole good
That remains to me.

Paul.
Save you from a sight
Fatall unto us both.

Sev.
What recompense
Of all my love? what fruit of my devotions?

Paul.
That's the sole remedy that can cure our evils.

Sev.
I'le die of mine, Oh love my memory.

Paul.
I'le cure mine, they would sully my fair glory.

Sev.
Oh! since your glory doth pronounce the sentence,
My griefe must yield unto its interest,
From such a heart as mine what is't that it
Cannot obtain? you do awake the cares
Which I owe to my glory; farewell, Madam,
I go to seek in honourable combats
That immortality which a fair death
Doth give, if I after this mortall stroak
Of fate, have life enough to seek a death.

Paul.
And I, whose punishment your sight increases,
Intend to avoid it even in Sacrifice,
And alone in my Chamber shutting up
My sorrows, I will make my secret Orisons
Unto the Gods for you.

Sev.
May righteous Heaven
Contented with my ruine heap up happiness
On Polyeuctes and Paulina's heads.

Paul.
May brave Severus find after so much
Disaster, a felicity that may be
Worthy his valour.

Sev.
In you he could find it.

Paul.
I depend of a Father and a Husband.

Sev.
Oh duty that destroys, and makes me desperate!
Adiew too vertuous and too charming object.

Paul.
Adiew, adiew, thou too unfortunate
And faithfull lover.