University of Virginia Library

SCEN. IV.

Phocas, Heraclius, Martian taking himself for Heraclius, Pulcheria, her Women, Crispus, Guards and Attendants.
CRISPUS.
To Exuperius, Sir, the debt you owe,
He and his friends have born the business so,
That he the Mutineers hath overcome,
And Pris'ners brings their chiefs to hear your doom.

PHO:
Command that in the Court for me he stay,
Where them their due, my thanks to him i'le pay.
Ingrateful wilt thou be, my Son, or no?
The Mutineers o're come, I need not show
Or fear or love, more than I have indeed;
Use well the time while I make others bleed:
And thou Pulcheria, if thou wouldst not see
Both their bloods shed to end the Tragedie,
Find, or make choice of one of them for mine,
And with the usual forms your right hands join:
At my return I swear this shall be done;
Who scorns my blood and Throne, is not my Son.

PULC:
Threat not, they dead, I gladly death imbrace.

PHO:
I know thou wouldst, but i'le not grant that grace,
That were a mercie: I must punish thee,
Which as the highest, thou shalt marry me.

PULC:
Ha! What Plague?

PHO.
If it be great, from me 'tis justly due,
But I shall make it yet more strange and new,
I'le bath this in their blouds when so, take thine,
One way or other compass my design.
She will not kill her self, whilst yet they live
To himself.
They error me, and I'le them terror give.

Exit Pho. Crisp. &c.