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ACTUS primus

SCENA prima.

Polyeuctes, Nearchus.
Nearchus.
And what! you stick upon a Womans Dreams?
Can such weak Subjects 'trouble this great Soul?
And this heart so approv'd in War, can it
Receive Alarum from an idle Fantasie?

Pol.
I know what a Dream is, and what beleif
We ought to give to its extravagance,
That a confus'd mass of Nocturnall Vapours
Formeth vain Objects, which at waking vanish;
But you know not, Sir, what a woman is,
Nor the just power she takes upon a Soul,
When having long time found the art to charm us,
Bright Hymens Torches flame about our Beds.
Paulina without reason plung'd in grief,


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Pol.
Fears and believs already that she sees
My death, which she hath dream'd; she doth oppose
Her tears to my design, and laboureth
To hinder me from going forth the pallace;
I sleight her fears, but yield unto her tears;
And my heart tender, but not terrifi'd.
Dares not displease the eys have conquer'd it:
Nearchus, is th'occasion so pressing
That it may not a little be deferr'd
Upon a Lovers sighs? let us a while
Wave this designe which burthens her with grief,
To morrow we can do't a swel's to day.

Nearc:
Yes, if you were assur'd to live so long,
And to persever in your faith; that God
Which houlds our soul, and numbereth our days,
Hath not ingag'd himself that you shall see
The morning break; he is all just and good,
But his effectuall grace descends not always
With the same efficacy; after certain moments
Which we lose by delays, she quits those darts
Which penetrate our souls, the arm that freely
Dispensed her unto us, stops his bounty;
As being offended, our dull heart is hardened;
That holy heat which carrieth us to good,
Fals on a Rock, and operates no more.
That zeal which pressed you to have recourse
To sacred baptism, languishing already,
Ceases to be the same; and for some sighs
Which you have heard, its flame doth dissipate
It self; and is upon the point to vanish.

Pol.
You know me ill, the self same heat still burns me,
And the desire increaseth when th'effect
Recoyls; those tears which with a Husbands Eye
I look upon, leave me as good a Christian
In heart as you; but to receave the seal
And sacred character thereof, which washes
Our sins in saving water, and in opening
Our Eyes with a divine Ray, doth restore us
Unto the first right which we had to Heaven,
Though I prefer it before all the greatness
Of Empires as the supream good, and that
Which I alone aspire to, I believe

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I may, to satisfie a lawfull love,
Defer this sacred baptism for a day.

Nearc:
Thus the malicious enemy of man
Abuseth you, what he can't do by force,
He doth attempt by policy, still jealous
Of good designs, which he endeavoureth
To shake; when he can't break them, he puts on
With all the power he can to stop their course.
With obstacle upon obstacle he is comming
To trouble yours, to day by tears, to morrow
By something else; this dream so full of horrour
Is but the flourish of his first illusions,

Pol.
He sets all things a work, both prayer and threatning,
He assaults always, and is never weary,
He thinks to do at last what yet he cannot,
And what we do defer, concludes half broken.
Destroy his first stroaks, let Paulina weep:
God would not have a heart that the world rules;
Who looks upon him when his voice doth call him
At distance, and as doubtfull in his choice,
Hearkens unto another voice then his,

Pol.
To give our selvs to him, must we love no body?

Nearc:
We may love all, he suffers, he ordains it;
But this great King of Kings, this Lord of Lords
Will have the first love and the chiefest honours.
As nothing's equall to his supreame Greatnes,
So nothing must be lov'd but after him,
And in him; we to please him must neglect
Wife and wealth, friends and fortunes; for his glory
We must not stick t'expose our selves to dangers,
Yea, even to death, to pour our bloud forth for him;
But how far are you from this perfect love
Which I could wish you as so necessary
To your salvation, and eternal good?
I cannot speak unto you, Polyeuctes,
But with tears in mine eyes; now that we are
Hated in every place, that all believe
They serve the State well when they persecute us,
Now that a Christian is expos'd a butt
Unto the sharpest torments, how can you
Or'ecome the griefe on't, if you can't resist
A Womans tears?


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Pol.
You do'nt astonish me;
The Pitty that doth wound me doth proceed
From a great courage rather then from weakness;
Nearchus, on my equals a faire eye
Hath had much force, he feareth to offend it,
That dreads not death; and if we must affront
The cruel'st punishments, to find delights
And pleasures there, your God whom I dare not
Yet to call mine, in making me a Christian,
Will give me strength enough to undergo them.

Nearc.
Haste then to be one.

Pol.
Yes, I fly, Nearchus,
I long to bear the glorious mark of it,
But my Paulina doth afflict her self,
And can't consent, so much this dream doth trouble her,
To leave me to go forth.

Nearc.
Your safe return
Will be more pleasing to her; in an hour,
Or little more you shall wipe off her tears,
The happiness will seem again to see you
More sweet, by how much more she hath lamented
So dear a Husband. Come, we are expected.

Pol.
Appease her fear, and calm her sorrow then,
She comes again.

Nearc.
Fly, fly.

Pol.
Alas! I cannot.

Nearc.
You must, Sir, to be safe; Oh fly an Enemy
That knows your weakness, that doth finde it easily,
That woundeth with the eys, whose stroke doth kill
And please, because receav'd not 'gainst your will.

Scena Secunda.

Polyeuctes, Nearchus, Paulina, Stratonica.
Polyeuctes.
Let's fly then, since we must, adiew, Paulina,
Adiew, within an hour, or little more
I will return again here.

Paul.
What occasion
So pressing doth invite you to go forth?

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Doth it concern your honour, or your life?

Pol.
Much more then either.

Paul.
What's the secret then?

Pol:
You shall know one day, I am loath to leave you,
But yet I must.

Paul.
D'ee love me?

Pol.
Witness Heaven
A thousand times more then my self I love you,
But—

Paul.
But you care not for my discontent;
Should you have Secrets that I may not know?
What proof of love is this; ith' name of Himen,
Give only to my tears this fatall journey.

Pol.
A dream makes you afraid!

Paul.
I know those presages
Are vain, but I do love you, and I fear.

Pol.
For an hours absence fear no hurt; adiew,
Your tears prevail too much upon me, and
I feel my heart even ready to revolt,
There's no resisting her but in my flight.—

Exit.

Scena Tertia.

Paulina, Stratonica.
Paulina.
Go, and neglect my tears, hast to precipitate thee
Before the death, which the Gods have predicted
Unto me, follow that same fatall Agent
Of thy ill destinies, who, perhaps may give thee
Into the hands of murtherers: See, Stratonica
In this sad age wherein we live, what Empire
We have upon the stubborn Spirits of men;
See what is left us, and the ordinary
Effect of that love which they offer us,
And of the vowes they make us; whilst they are
But Lovers, we are Soveraigns; and untill
They've gain'd the conquest, we are us'd as Queens,
But after Marriage they are Kings by turn.

Strat.
Sure Polyeuctes, wants no love for you;
Though with full confidence he treat you not.

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In this affair, though he depart in spight
Of all your tears: it is a part of prudence;
Without afflicting you presume with me,
That it is fit he should conceale the cause,
Assure your self he hath just reason for it:
A Husband must not tell us everything,
Let him be sometimes free, and not abase him
To render us accompt still of his steps.
We both have but one heart, which feels the same
Traverses, but this heart hath notwithstanding
Its divers functions; and the Law of marriage
Which holdeth you together, ordains not
That he should tremble when you tremble, Madam,
What maketh you afrayd, troubles not him,
He's an Armenian, and you are a Roman,
And you may please to understand that our
Two Nations ha'nt the same impressions
Upon this subject. A dream passeth with us
For a ridiculous phansie, it doth leave us,
Nor hope, nor fear, nor scruple; but it carries
Authority in Rome, and passeth for
A faithfull mirrour of fatality.

Paul.
Mine's very strange, and though Armenian,
I believe that thy fear would equall mine,
If by my bare recitall such like horrors
Had struck thy Spirit.

Strat.
To recount our evils,
We ease them oftentimes.

Paul.
Attend me then;
But I must tell thee more, and that thou mayst
The better comprehend this sad discourse,
I will discover unto thee my weakness
In the relation of my first amours;
A woman that loves honour may confess
Without shame those surprizes of the sences
Which reason doth or'ecome, chiefly it is
In these assaults that vertue doth break forth,
We doubt that heart that hath not combated.
In Rome where I was born this wretched face
Captiv'd the courage of a Roman knight
Called Severus. Pray excuse the sighes
Which yet a name too dear to my desires,

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Snatches out of my bosome.

Strat:
Was it he
That not long since at th'expence of his life
Sav'd th'Emperour Decius from his enemies;
Who dying drew the victory from the Persians
And turn'd the chance upon the Roman Eagles?
He that amongst so many bodies sacrific'd
Unto his Master, could not be found out,
Or at least known, to whom Decius at last
Made sumptuous monuments to be rais'd in vain?

Paul.
Alas! it was the same, and never did
Our Rome produce a greater heart, nor saw
A braver man since thou hast understood him,
Il'e speak no more of him; Statonica,
I lov'd him, he deserved well; but whereto
Serves merit where blind fortune is defective?
The one is great in him, the other weak
And common, too invincible obstacle,
O're which a vertuous Lover very seldome
Triumpheth with a father.

Strat.
Fair occasion,
And worthy a rare constancy!

Paul.
Rather say
An overnice, foolish and base resistance;
What ever fruit one might receive from thence,
Tis not a vertue but for who would faile:
In this great love which I had for Severus,
I still expected from my Fathers hand
A Husband, and my reason never own'd
The amiable Treason of mine eyes.
He did possess my heart, my thought, wy wishes,
I hid not from him how much I was wounded,
We sigh'd together and wept our misfortunes,
But he in stead of hope had nought but tears,
And notwithstanding his sweet sighs and prayers
My Father and my duty were inexorable.
Lastly I left Rome, and this perfect lover,
To follow here my father in his government,
And he, even desperate, went unto the Army
To seek th'illustrious fame of a fair death.
Thou know'st the rest; my comming to this place
Made me see Polyeuctes, and I pleas'd

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His eyes; My Father finding that he was
The chief of the Nobility, was ravish'd
With joy that he should take me for his Mistress,
And he believ'd himself by his allyance
Sure to be more redoubted and considerable.
He lik'd his love, and did conclude the marriage.
And I seeing me destin'd to his bed
Gave unto his affection through duty
All what the other had through inclination;
If thou canst doubt there of, judge by the fear
Wherewith for him thou seest my soul is troubled.

Strat.
You love him, I believe, as well as one
Can love, but after all what dream could have
Disturb'd you?

Paul.
This last night me thought I saw
Th'unfortunate Severus with revenge,
In hand, and with an Eye flaming with anger;
He was not covered with those sorry rags,
A desolate shade doth bring with it from graves,
He was not pierced with those glorious strokes
Which cutting off his life assure his memory;
He seem'd triumphant like unto our Cæsar
When on his Charriot he victoriously
Doth enter Rome; after a little fear
Which his sight gave me, carry unto whom
Thou wilt the favour that is due to me,
Ingratefull, (said he) and this day expir'd,
Lament at leisure him thou hast preferr'd
Before me. At these words I trembled,
My soul was troubled; afterward an impious
Assembly of the Christians to advance
Th'effect of this fatall and sad discourse.
Threw Polyeuctes at his Rivals feet;
Forthwith I call'd my Father to his ayd.
Alas! 'tis this that most doth trouble me,
I saw my Father enter with a Ponyard
In hand, and his arm rais'd to pierce his bosom.
There my grief too strong hath conceiv'd those Images,
The bloud of Polyeuctes hath contented
Their furies, I know neither how, nor when
They kill'd him, but I know that to his death
All have contributed. Behold my dream.


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Strat.
'Tis true, tis sad, but your soul must resist
Those fears, the vision of it self may give
Some horror, but no just fear unto you.
Should you a death fear from a Father, who
Doth love your Husband, and doth honour him.
And whose just choice hath given you unto him,
To make himselfe thereby here in this Countrey
A sure and firm support?

Paul.
He hath himself
Told me as much, and laugh'd at my alarms,
But I do fear the Christians plots and charms,
And that upon my Husband they'l revenge
The bloud my Father hath so freely shed.

Strat.
Their Sect is mad, impious, and sacrilegious,
And in their Sacrifice use sorcery;
But this their fury goes no further then
To break our Altars, its pursues the Gods,
But reacheth not to mortals, whatsoever
Severity our anger doth display
Upon them, they do suffer without murmur,
And die with joy, and since the time they were
Treated as criminals of State, one cannot
Charge them with any murther.

Paul.
Peace, my Father.

Scena Quarta.

Felix, Albin, Paulina, Stratonica.
Felix.
Daughter, thy dream hath plung'd me in strange fears
Since yesterday, I doubt th'effects thereof,
Which seem t'approach.

Paul.
I do beseech you, tell me
What ist you feel?

Felix.
Severus is not dead.

Paul.
What evil doth his life do unto us?

Felix.
He is the Favourite
Of th'Emperour Decius.

Paul.
After having saved him
From the hands of his Enemies the hope
Of such a rank justly might be allow'd him,

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Thus Fortune to great hearts so often cruel,
Resolvs her self sometimes to do them justice.

Felix.
He's comming here himself.

Paul.
What? is he comming?

Felix.
Thou shalt receive his Visit.

Paul:
That's too much;
But how do you know this? Sir.

Felix.
Albin met
In the adjacent field, a troup of Courtiers
Attending him in crouds which shewed plainly
His rank and credit, but Albinus tell her
That which his People told thee.

Albin.
You know, Madam,
What that great Expedition was, which made us
So fortunate by his loss, where th'Emperour
A Prisoner, dis-ingaged by his hand,
Confirm'd again his almost conquered party;
Whilst that his vertue fell amongst the number,
You know the honours that he caus'd to be
Done to his shadow, when his body could not
Be found amongst the dead. The King of Persia
Witness of his high acts, though to his damage,
Caused him to be carry'd off, and brought
Into his Tent, he did desire to know
His face though dead, every one did lament him,
Covered with wounds, though jealous of his glory.
Within a while he shew'd some sign of life:
This generous Monarch was o're joy'd therewith,
And though o'recome, thought not of his misfortune;
To honour vertue in its very Authour,
He caus'd that speciall care should be tane of him;
His cure was secret, and at a Months end
His health was perfect, when the King, to gain him,
Offer'd him dignities, allyance, treasures,
And us'd a thousand means: when all things fail'd,
After high prayse bestow'd on his refusall,
He sent to Decius to propose exchange,
And presently the Emperour transported
With pleasure, offered to the Persian
His Brother and a hundred chiefs to chuse.
So came unto the Camp the valorous
And brave Severus, to receive the recompence

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Of his high vertue: Decius favour was
The worthy price thereof: we fought again,
And were surpris'd, yet this misfortune serv'd
T'increase his glory, he alone restablish'd
The order, and recovered the victory,
So fair and plain, and by such glorious feats,
That our stout Enemies offer'd us tribute,
And made us peace; The Emperour express'd
An infinite love unto him, and being ravish'd
With the success, sent him into Armenia;
He comes to bring the news into this Countrey,
And by a sacrifice to render thanks
Unto the Gods,

Felix.
O heaven! to what estate
My fortune is reduc'd!

Albin.
I learned this
From one that doth belong unto his train,
And hasted here, Sir, to acquaint you with it.

Felix.
Oh without doubt he comes to marry thee,
Daughter, the order of a sacrifice
Is a small thing to him, not worth his presence,
It is a false pretence, whose cause is love.

Paul.
It may well be, he lov'd me very dearly.

Felix.
What will not he allow to his resentment?
And to what point will not his anger carry
A just revenge with so much power to prop it?
He will destroy us, daughter.

Paul.
He's too generous.

Felix.
Thou wilt in vain flatter a wretched Father;
He will destroy us, daughter. Oh regreet
That kils me now, in that I loved not
The naked vertue. Oh Paulina really
Thou hast too much obeyed me, thy courage
Was good, but thy nice duty hath betray'd thee.
How thy rebellion had been favourable
Unto me, how it would have priviledg'd me
From a deplorable condition!
If any hope rests with me, it is now
No more but in the absolute power which he
Gives thee upon him: Husband in my favour
The love that doth possess him, and from whence
My evill doth proceed, produce the remedy.


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Paul.
Shall I, Shall I see such a Puissant Conqueror?
And expose me unto those eyes that pierce
My heart? Father, I am a Woman, and
I know my weakness, I perceive my heart
Already to be interested for him,
And will without doubt in spight of my faith
Thrust forth some sigh unworthy both of you
And me, I will not see him.

Felix.
Re-assure
Thy soul a little.

Paul.
He is alwayes lovely,
And I am alwayes firm, in the power which
His looks have had upon me, I can't answer
With all my vertue, therefore I'le not see him.

Felix.
Daughter you must, or you'l betray your Father,
And all your Family.

Paul.
It is my duty
T'obey since you command, but see the perills
Wherein you hazard me.

Felix.
I know thy Vertue.

Paul.
Without doubt it will vanquish, the success
Is not the thing that my soul doubts, I fear
This stubborn combat, and puissant troubles
That makes my senses to revolt already;
But since I must combat an Enemy
I love, permit me t'arm against my self,
And give me some time to prepare to see him.

Felix.
Without the Ports I'm going to receive him,
In the mean time call home your stragling force,
And think that in thy hands thou holdst our destinies,

Paul.
True, I am born to sacrifice me still
In serving as a victime to your will.

The End of the first Act.