University of Virginia Library

Scena Prima.

Severus, Fabianus.
Severus.
Whilst Felix giveth order for the sacrifice,
May not I take a time to see Paulina,
And render to her fair eyes that high homage
Is due unto the Gods? I have not kept
From thee, that it is this which brings me hither;
For the rest I'm not troubled much, I come
To sacrifice, but tis unto your beauties,
Whereto I dedicate all my devotions.

Fab.
Sir, you shall see her.

Sev.
What joyes do I feel!
Doth this adorable object give consent
That I shall see her? have I any power
Upon her soul yet? hast thou seen in speaking
To her of me, that she was troubled,
Or what transport my comming causeth her?
May I hope all things from this happy sight?
For I would rather perish then abuse her
With Letters recommendatory, which
I have to marry her, they are for Felix,
Not to triumph of her, my heart was never
Rebellious unto her desires, and if
My evill fortune should have changed hers,
I would vanquish my self and pretend nothing.

Fab.
Sir, you shall see her. I can say no more.

Sev.
How comes it that thou tremblest and sigh'st?
Doth she no longer love me? clear this point.

Fab.
Sir, I could wish you not to see her more,
Carry unto some higher place the honour
Of your Caresses, you shall find at Rome
Ladies enough that will be proud to be
Your Mistresses, and in this high degree
Of power and glory wherein now you are,
The greatest will esteem your love a happiness.

Sev.
What should my soul stoop to such humble thoughts?
Should I esteem Paulina as inferior
Unto my fortune? she hath better used it,
I ought to imitate her, I love not
My happiness but for to merit her.
See, Fabian, thy discourse doth trouble me:
Come, let us go to cast this haughty fortune
Even at her feet, I found it happily
In fights seeking a death worthy her Lover,
So then this rank is hers, this favours hers,
And I have nothing that I hould not off her.

Fab.
No, Sir, but once again pray do not see her.

Sev.
Oh! 'tis too much, at last cleer me this point;
Hast thou seen coldness when thou prayd'st access?

Fab.
I tremble to declare t'ee, she is—

Sev.
What?

Fab.
Married.

Sev.
Sustain me, Fabian, this thunder-clap
Is very great, and strikes so much the more,
As more it doth suprise me.

Fab.
What's become, Sir,
Of that brave generous courage?

Sev.
Constancy
Is here of little use, when such displeasures
Burthen a great heart, the most masculine vertue
Soon loseth all its vigour, and when souls
Are taken with so glittering a fire,
Death troubles them far less then such surprises.
I can scarce yet believe thy sad discourse.

Fab.
Paulina's married; fifteen days have pass'd
Since Hymen did appear in saffron robes
To solemnize the nuptials; Polyeuctes,
One of the chiefest of th'Armenian Lords
Doth taste the infinite sweetness of her bed.

Sev.
I cannot blame her of an evill choice,
The name of Polyeuctes is esteem'd,
As being descended from the bloud of Kings.
Weak comfort for a cureless misery!
Paulina, I shall see thee by another
Possess'd! Oh Heaven! that spight of me didst send me
Unto the light again! Oh fate! that gav'st me
A new hope of my love, take back the favours
Which you have lent me, and restore me death
Which you have taken from me; yet let's see her,
And in this sad place make an end to die
In bidding her adiew, that my heart carrying
Her Image to the dead, where I do go,
With its last sigh to her may homage do.

Fab.
Consider, Sir.

Sev.
All is considered.
What inconvenience fears a desperate heart?
Consents she not?

Fab.
Yes, Sir, but—

Sev.
'Tis no matter.

Fab.
This lively grief will thereby become stronger.

Sev.
'Tis not an evil I intend to cure,
I only will but see her, sigh, and dye.

Fab.
You will break forth without doubt in her presence;
A Lover that doth lose all hath no more
Complacence, but in such despaire he follows
His passion which doth thrust him on to injury,
And imprecation.

Sev.
Judge otherwise
Of me, my respect doth continue yet;
My despair, violent as 'tis, adores her;
What reason have I to reproach this Lady?
Wherewith can I accuse her who hath promised
Me nothing; she's not perjur'd, she's not light;
Her duty hath betrayd me, her Father,
And my misfortune; but her duty was
Just, and her Fathers reason guided him;
I impute all the treason unto my
Misfortune; somewhat less of prosperous hap,
And arriv'd sooner, would have gained one
By th'other, and conserved me; too happy,
But too late, I could not have gain'd her, I,
Leave me to see her, then to sigh and dye.

Fab.
Yes, I will go t'assure her that you are
In this extream misfortune strong enough
To overcome your selfe, she fears like me
Those first provoked motions which a sudden
And unexpected loss raiseth in Lovers,
The violence whereof excites much trouble
Without the presence of the object to
Redouble it.

Sev.
I see her, Fabian.

Fab.
Remember, Sir—

Sev.
Another is her Husband,
Alas, my sad fate! she doth love another;
It is impossible my grief to smother.