 | Polyeuctes, or the Martyr |  |
Actus Quartus.
Scena Prima.
Polyeuctes, Cleon, three other Guards.Polyeuctes.
What would you with me, Guards?
Cle.
Paulina, Sir,
Would speak with you.
Pol.
Oh how I dread her presence!
This combat will be hard; Felix or'e thee
I triumphed in Prison, and despis'd
37
I see, that to revenge thy self thou tak'st
Stronger a mes then thine own her tears do terrifie
More then thy Executioners; O Lord,
Thou seest here the danger that I run,
In this my pressing need double thy force;
And thou my dear Nearchus, comming forth
Lately from a Triumphant victory,
Look on my travel, from thy glorious residence,
Lend me thy hand from Heaven to overcome
So strong an Enemy. Guards, dare you doo me
One civil office?
Cle.
Sir, we have strict order
To render you no service.
Pol.
You mistake me,
I have no purpose to apply my self
Unto you as a means for my escape,
But I desire that one of you (three being
Sufficient to guard me) would oblige me
To seek Severus, and intreat him here;
This might be done with safety, I presume.
If I could tell him an important secret,
He would enjoy more happiness, and I
Should dye content.
Cle.
Since it is for Severus,
I will dispence with all things.
Pol.
He himself
Will recompence thy pains, if I should fail.
The sooner that thou go'st, the better 'tis,
Dispatch.
Cle.
I fly, and you shall have me here
In less time then a moment.—
Exit Cleon.
Scena Secunda.
Polyeuctesalone, his Guards being retired to the corners of the Stage.
Delicious Spring of love, yet fruitfull still
In misery, of me what is your will?
Ye flattering pleasures, baits of flesh and blood,
Why fly you not, since I esteem you mud?
38
Which shines, and is as brittle too as glass:
Hope not that I'le sigh after you at all,
It is in vain your weak charms to estall.
Why shew you me Gods enemies in state
And flourishing? he doth reserve a fate
That shall confound those great ones, and the sword
Suspended o're their heads, at his least word
Shall fall on them, so much more heavily,
As that they dream't not of their misery.
Thou cruel Tiger Decius that dost thirst
For blood, thou shalt be glutted till thou burst:
That God, which we adore, hath for a while
Permitted thee, wild forrest Boar, to spoil
His lovely Vineyard, but thy fearfull fate
Draws near which will thy glory terminate.
The Scythian comes like an impetuous flood,
To revenge Christian and Persian blood:
A little yet, and then thy hour is come,
When thou shalt sleep until the day of doom
In body, not in mind, out of the name
Of Christian, that is fed still with a flame,
Which never dies. Nothing can warrant thee,
The thunder's ready in the cloud, I see,
And will no longer hold in expectation
Of thy repentance, wretch in obstination!
In the mean time let Felix sacrifice
Me to thy rage, my Rivall blind his eyes,
And make himself his Son-in-Law, I yield
Unto my loss, rather I win the field:
Vain baits, I slight you and despise your art,
For in this Christian and Regenerate heart,
I feel a divine flame, whose Ray will dim
Paulina's beauty in her brightest trim.
I look upon her now but as a toy
That would detain me from my heavenly joy.
Adoreable Idea's, sweets above
You fill a heart that's capable to love;
The souls Possessed with your sacred fire
Fix there, and firmly settle their desire
Never to change; you promise, and give more,
Your benefits do still increase your store:
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Is a sweet passage to eternity.
'Tis you, O divine flame, which nothing can
Extinguish, that make me more then a man
Look on Paulina's face, and never fear;
Her assaults and temptations I can bear;
I see her, but my heart inflamed now
With holy zeal, to her charms cannot bow,
And my eyes cleared with celestiall light,
Hers appear clouded in a vail of night.
Scena Tertia.
Polyeuctes, Paulina, Guards.Polyeuctes.
Madam, what's the design that brings you hither?
Is it to fight me, or to second me?
And the fair proffer of this perfect love
Comes it to aid me, or to overthrow me?
Bring you here with you hate, or amity
As enemy, or as my dearest moyety?
Paul.
You have no enemy here, Sir, but your self
Every one loves you, none but Polyeuctes
Hateth your vertue, it is he alone
That executes my dream, do not destroy
Your self, and you are safe; how great soe'r
Your crime be, you are innocent, if you grant
A pardon to your self; deign to consider
The blood from whence y'are sprung, your noble actions,
Your rare endowments; think, Sir, that you are
Belov'd by all the people, favoured of
The Prince, and Son-in-law unto the Governour
Of the whole Province, the name of my Husband
I reckon t'ee as nothing, that's a happiness
Onely for me, which is not great for you;
But after your exploits, after your birth,
After your power, look upon our hope,
And give not up unto the hangmans hand
What to our just desires so fair a fortune
Doth promise.
Pol.
I consider more, and know
40
Great courages do frame, they aspire not
But unto transitory good, which cares
Disturb, which dangers follow, and which death
Takes from us, fortune makes her sport with them,
To day ith' throne, to morrow in the dirt.
Their greatest glory never is without
Some discontent, few of our Cæsars have
Injoy'd it long, this greatness perisheth;
I have ambition too, but mine's more fair
And noble, for I seek immortall glory,
A happiness assur'd that hath no end
Nor measure, far above the reach of envy,
Or destiny; and is a sorry life
Too dear a purchase for it, which immediatly
May be tane from me, which makes me injoy
But even the flying instant, and's not able
T'assure me that which follows?
Paul.
See the dotage,
And the ridiculous dreams of you fond Christians;
Behold how their lies have seduced you!
You think that all your blood is not enough
For a felicity so sweet; but, Sir,
This blood is not yours to dispose of it;
You have not life as an inheritance,
The day that gives it you at the same time
Engageth it, you owe it to the Prince,
Unto the Publick, to the State.
Pol.
I would
Lose it for them in honourable fight,
I know what is the happiness thereof,
And what's the glory, you do boast the memory
Of Decius Ancestors, and this name yet precious
Unto you Romans, put into his hands
At the end of six hundred years the Empire.
I owe my life unto the peoples good,
To the Prince and his crown, but I do owe it
Much more unto the God that gave it me:
If to dye for ones Prince be held to be
A glorious fate, when one dies for his God
How shall his death be crown'd?
Paul.
What God?
41
Peace, Paulina,
He hears your words, for he is not a God
Like your false gods, insensible and deaf,
Weak, made of wood, of marble, or of gold,
Even as you please: he is the God o'th' Christians,
He is mine, he is yours, the heaven and earth
Acknowledge him, who made both them and us.
Paul.
Adore him then in mind, and outwardly
Express it not.
Pol.
Oh no! I should be then
Idolater, and Christian both together.
Paul.
Dissemble for a moment till Severus
Be gone, and let my Fathers goodness work.
Pol.
The goodness of my God is to be cherish'd
Much more, he doth remove me from the dangers
I would have run into, and without suffering
Me to look back, his Favour crowneth me
Entring in the career, with the first wind
He brings me to the Port, and comming forth
From baptism, he doth send me unto death.
If you could comprehend the little worth
Of this frail life, and the eternal sweets
That follow after death—But to what end
Is it to speak of those concealed treasures
To souls whom God hath not inspired yet:
Paul.
Cruel! for it is time my grief break forth,
And that a just reproach oppress a soul
Ingratefull; Is this that fair fire thou boasts of?
Are these thy oaths? expressest thou for me
The smallest sentiments? I speak not to thee
Of that deplorable estate, wherein
Thy death will leave thy poor disconsolate Wife,
I think that love should speak enough of that:
But that love so firm and so well deserv'd
Which thou didst promise me, and I bare thee,
When thou wilt leave me, when thou mak'st me dye,
Can it not draw one sigh, one tear from thee?
Ingratefull, thou dost quit me, yea, with joy,
Thou hid'st it not, but wilt that I should see it,
And thy hard heart insensible to my sad
Attractions, figureth unto it self,
A happiness that I shall never see;
42
Am I grown odious after having given
My self unto you?
Pol.
Alas!
Paul.
How that alas came hardly forth!
Yet if it happily shew'd any sign
Of a repentance, Oh how charming were it
Although inforc'd! but courage, he is mov'd,
I see he sheds tears.
Pol.
True, I weep, Paulina,
And would to God that therewith this heard heart
Might happily be pierc'd, the sad estate
Wherein I leave you doth deserve the plaints
My love doth give me, and if one can carry
Griefs unto Heaven, I carry them to see
The excess of your misfortunes; but if in
This luminous abode of highest glory,
This God all just and good, allow my Prayer,
If He vouchsafe to lend an ear unto
Conjugall love, He will display his light
Upon your blindness; Lord, I do beseech thee
Let me obtain this of thy goodness, she
Hath too much vertue not to be a Christian,
It pleased thee to give her too much merit,
Not to know Thee, and to adhere unto Thee,
To live still an unfortunate Slave of hell,
And to die as she's born under that yoak.
Paul.
What say'st thou, miserable, what dar'st thou wish?
Pol.
That which with all my blood I fain would purchase.
Paul.
That rather.—
Pol.
Tis in vain to make resistance,
This God toucheth the heart when least we think on't;
That happy moment is not yet arriv'd,
It will come, but the time's not known unto me.
Paul.
Leave this Chymera, come and love me still.
Pol.
I love you much more then my self, but, pardon me,
Less then my God.
Paul.
In the name of that love,
Forsake me not.
Pol.
In the name of that love,
Follow my steps.
Paul.
Dost thou not care to quit me, wilt thou then
43
Pol.
Car'st thou not to go to Heaven?
I will conduct you there.
Paul.
Imaginations!
Pol.
Cœlestiall truths.
Paul.
Strange blindness.
Pol.
Rather everlasting lights.
Paul.
Thou prefer'st death before Paulina's love.
Pol.
You the base world before the divine goodness.
Paul.
Go, cruell, go and die, thou never lov'dst me.
Pol.
Live happy in the World, and suffer me
To die in peace.
Paul.
Yes, I will leave thee, trouble not thy self,
I go—
Scena Quarta.
Polyeuctes, Paulina, Severus, Fabian, Guards.Paulina.
But what design Severus brings you here?
Is this done like a generous Cavaleer
To come to brave here one in misery?
Pol.
Paulina, you treat ill so rare a merit,
At my sole prayer he renders me this visit.
I have committed incivility,
Noble Severus, which I know you'l pardon,
And impute to my want of liberty.
Being possessor of a Treasure which
I was not worthy of, before I die
Suffer me to resign it unto you,
And to leave the rar'st vertue that a Woman
Could e're receive from heaven unto the hands
Of the most valiant and accomplish'd man
The earth hath honour'd, or Rome hath produc'd.
Y'are worthy of her, she is worthy you:
Refuse her not, Sir, from a Husbands hand;
If he hath dis-united you, his death
Will make amends, and joyn you both again:
Let not a fire which sometimes was so fair,
Become less now, give her your heart, and take
Her faith to you, live happily together,
44
Which Polyeuctes wisheth to you both:
Guards, lead me to my death, I've nothing more
To say; come, all is finish'd.
Scena Quinta.
Severus, Paulina, Fabian.Severus.
I am confounded
In my astonishment to see his blindness;
His resolution's so unparalel'd,
That scarce can I believe mine ears; a heart
That holds you dear, (but what heart is so low
That could have known you, and not cherish'd you?)
A man belov'd by you, assoon as he
Possesseth you, without regret he leaves you,
Nay he doth more, he doth resign you over;
And as if your fires were a fatall present,
He himself makes a gift on't to his Rivall:
Surely the Christians either have strange whimsies,
Or their felicities must be infinite,
Since to pretend thereto they dare reject
What one should purchase at an Empires price.
For my part, if my destiny a little
Sooner propitious, had been pleas'd to honour me
With your fair Nuptials, I should have ador'd
No glory but the lustre of your eyes;
I would have made of them my Kings and gods.
They should have first reduced me to dust,
Before that—
Paul.
Sir, no more of this discourse,
I fear I've heard too much, and that this heat.
Should thrust forth some unseemly consequence
Unworthy of us both. Severus, know
My Polyeuctes wholy doth take up
Paulina's thoughts, he hath but a short moment
To live, you are the innocent cause thereof:
I know not if your soul might have presum'd
To frame some hope to your desires upon
His ruine, but assure your self, there is
45
With fearless steps address, nor in Hell horrors
So dreadfull which I would not rather suffer,
Then sully my fame to espouse a man,
After his sad fate, who in any kind
Might cause his death, and if you should believe me
Of so unsound a mind, the Love I bear you
Would turn all into hatred; you are generous,
Be so unto the end; My Father is
In a condition to deny you nothing;
He fears you, and I will be bold to adde
This word, that if he doth destroy my Husband,
It is to you he sacrificeth him;
Save this unfortunate, use your interest for him,
Indeavour, pray, to serve him as a Prop;
I know tis much what I demand of you,
But how much greater the indeavour is,
So much more is the glory on't, preserve
A Rivall that you'r jealous of, it is
A tract of vertue which belongeth not
But unto you; if this be not sufficient
Renown unto you, tis much that a woman
Sometimes belov'd, and yet perhaps whose love
May touch you, should owe that to your great heart
Which she esteems most dear. Lastly, remember
You are Severus, after this Petition
I'le go without an Answer, and if you
Be not the same which Ile presume to vaunt,
To prize you still, I will be ignorant.—
Exit.
Scena Sexta.
Severus, Fabian.Severus.
Fabian , What feel I? what new clap of Thunder
Falls on my fortune, and reduceth it
To dust? the more I do esteem it near
The farther 'tis, I find all lost, when I
Think all is gain'd, and envious Destiny
Resolv'd to hurt me still, cuts off my hope
As soon as it is born. Before I offer
46
Sad alwaies and asham'd to see that basely
It durst spring up again, that yet more basely
It durst appear, and lastly that a Woman
In an afflicted state should give me lessons
Of generosity. Your fair soul, Paulina,
Is as high as it is unfortunate,
But tis as cruel too as generous,
And your griefs tyrannize with too much rigour
Upon a Lovers heart that's wholely yours.
Tis not enough to lose you then, unless
I give you, I must serve a Rivall when
He doth abandon you, and by a cruell
And generous triall, to give you unto him,
Must snatch him from his death.
Fab.
Leave this ingratefull family to their fate,
Let it accord the father with the Daughter,
The Husband with the Wife, and Polyeuctes,
With Felix; What reward hope you to have
For such a cruel triall?
Sev.
Only Fabian,
The glory to shew to this beauteous soul,
Severus equals her, and doth deserve her,
That she was due unto me, and that Heaven,
In taking her from me was too injurious.
Fab.
Without accusing Heaven, or Destiny
Think on the danger you draw on upon you
By such an Act, you hazard very much;
Consider well, you enterprise to save
A Christian, you cannot be ignorant
What is, and always was the hate of Decius
Unto that impious Sect; tis unto him
A crime so great, so capitall, that even
To you his only Favourite may be fatall.
Sev.
This were good counsel for some common soul,
Though he hold in his hand my life and fortune,
I am Severus still, and all this great
And mighty power can nothing on my glory,
Nothing upon my duty; honour here
Obligeth me and I will satisfie it;
Let fortune afterward shew her self kind
Or cruel, as her nature's still inconstant,
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I'le tell thee more, but with some confidence,
The Christian Sect is not the same we take it,
We hate them, and the reason for't I know not,
And I can see Decius unjust in nothing
But in this point; for curiosity
I fain would know them; they are held for Sorcerers,
Whose Master Hell is, and on this belief
The secret mysteries, which we are not able
To understand, are punished with death:
But Ceres, Eleusina, and the goddess
Bonna at Rome, and in Greece have their secrets
Like them; we suffer likewise in all places
All kind of gods, their God only excepted:
All the Ægyptian Monsters haue their Temple
In Rome; our predecessors, as they lik'd,
Made a god of a man, and their blood with us
Retaining still their errors, we fill Heaven
With all our Emperors; but to speak truly
Of so much Apothæsis, the effect
Is very doubtfull of these Metamorphoses:
The Christians have but one God, absolute Master
Of all, whose only will doth execute
What he resolves, but if I durst to speake
Between us what I think, ours very often,
Me thinks, agree together very ill,
And should their anger crush me 'fore thine eyes,
I must speak this, we have too many of them
To be true gods. Perhaps these publick faiths
Are but inventions of wise Polyticks,
To keep the People under, and to awe them,
And to establish their power on their weakness.
Lastly the manners of the Christians
Are innocent, vertues do flourish with them,
Vices appear not; never an Adulterer,
A Traytor, Drunkard, Murtherer, or Thief
Is seen amongst them, there is nothing else
But love and charity, they live together
Like Brothers, they pray for us that do persecute them;
And have we ever since the time we first
Tormented them, seen them in mutiny?
Have we seen them rebellious! have our Princes
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They suffer our tormentors patiently;
Lions in fight, they dy as meek as Lambs.
I've too much pitty for them not to help them:
Come, let us find out Felix presently,
And so by one sole action satisfie
Paulina, my compassion, and my glory.
The End of the fourth Act.
| Polyeuctes, or the Martyr | |