 | Polyeuctes, or the Martyr |  |
58
Scena Ultima.
Felix, Severus, Paulina, Albin, Fabian.Severus.
Unnaturall Father, wretched Polititian,
Ambitious slave to a Chymerick fear,
Is Polyeuctes dead then by your cruelties,
And think you to conserve your sorry dignities?
The favour which for him I offer'd you,
Instead of saving him, hasted his death;
I prayed, threatned, but I could not move you;
You thought me false, or but of little power,
But you shall know at your cost that Severus
Boasts not of any thing but what he can
Perform and by your ruine he will make you
To judge that he who can destroy you, could
Have protected you; continue to
The gods this faithfull service by such horrors
Shew them your zeal, adiew, but when the storm
Shall break upon you, doubt not of the arm
From whence the strokes shall come.
Fel.
Severus, stay,
And with a quiet mind suffer that I
Give you an easie vengeance, by my cruelties
Cease to reproach me more, I do indeavour
To keep my sorry dignities, I dispose
Their false deceitfull lustre to your feet;
That glory whereunto I dare t'aspire
Is a rank more illustrious, I do find
My self forc'd to it by a secret bait,
I yield to those transports I do not know,
And by a wo king which I understand not,
I from my fury pass unto the zeal
Of my blest Son-in-law; tis he no doubt,
Whose innocent blood prays an Almighty God
For me his Persecutor, his love spred
On all the Family, draws after him
As well the Father as the Daughter, I
Have made a Martyr of him, and his death
Hath made me Christian, I procur'd his bliss,
He will work mine, so is it that a Christian
59
Whose event is so sweet! Paulina, give me
Thy hand, bring fetters here, and sacrifice
Unto your gods these two new Christians
I am one, She is so, observe your anger.
Paul.
How happily at last I find my Father!
This blessed change maketh my joy compleat.
Fel.
Daughter, it doth belong but to the hand
That doth it.
Sev.
Who would not be touch'd with
A spectacle so tender? I believe
Such changes come not without miracle,
Your Christians without doubt, which we in vain
Do persecute, have something in them which
Surpasseth humane, they do lead a life
With so much innocence, that Heaven doth owe them
Some great acknowledgement; to shew themselves
More strong the more they are oppress'd, is not
Th'effect of common vertues; I still lov'd them,
What ever might be said on't, I ne'r saw them
To dye, but this heart sighed for't, and perhaps,
I shall one day be better known unto them:
In the mean time I like that every one
Should have his own gods, and that he should serve them
After his own way without fear of punishment,
If you are Christians, fear no more my hate,
I love them, Felix and from their Protector,
I will not make a Persecutor of them
In you: guard well your power, take it again,
Serve your God, serve your Monarch, I will lose
My credit with his Majesty, or he
Shall shake off this severity, by his
Unjust hate he doth too much wrong himself.
Fel.
Daign gracious Heaven to end his work in you,
And one day to give you what you deserve,
T'inspire into you all his sacred Truths:
For us we blesse this fortunate adventure,
Come, let us go to give our Martyrs buriall,
To kiss their precious bodies, and to put them
Jn holy place, in consecrated ground,
Then let us make the name of God resound.
| Polyeuctes, or the Martyr | |