  FELIX. Caught in Severus' net thy Felix see! He hates and holds me—oh, the misery! ALBIN. I see a generous man, who cries, 'Forgive, Let Pauline smile once more—let Polyeucte live!' FELIX. His soul thou canst not read—tho' noble heart he feigns. The father he abhors,—the daughter he disdains! What Polyeucte won he sought: his suit denied, Severus sues no more,—I know his pride. His words, his prayers, his threats for Polyeucte plead, His tongue says, 'Listen, or be lost indeed!' Unskilled the fowler who his snare reveals: If at the bait I snatch—my doom is sealed: Too plain, too coarse, this web for any fly— Shall I this spider hail in my fatuity? His wrath is wrath arranged, his generous fire is nursed, That I, at Decius' hand, may meet the doom accurst, If I should pardon grant—that grace my crime would be, For he the spoil would reap of my credulity. No simpleton am I, each promise to believe, Words—oaths—are but the tools wherewith all men deceive; Too oft escaped am I to be so lightly caught; I know that words are wind. I know that wind is naught. The trapper shall be trapped,—the biter shall be bit, Unravelled is the web that he, poor fool, hath knit! ALBIN. Jove! What a plague to thee is this mistrust! FELIX. Nay, those at court must fence; their weapons never rust, If once thou yield the clue to thread the maze, The sequence is most plain—the man betrayed betrays; Severus, and his gifts, alike I fear! If Polyeucte still to reason close his ear, Severus' love is hate—his peace is strife— First law of nature this, 'Preserve thy life!' ALBIN. Ah, let Pauline at least thy grace obtain! FELIX. If Decius grace withhold, my pardon vain! And—far from saving this rebellious son— Behold us all alike entrapped, undone! ALBIN. Severus' promise—— FELIX. He can never keep! For Decius' rage and hatred never sleep: If for that sect abhorred Severus plead, He trebles loss—so are we lost indeed! One only way is ours,—that way I try: (To Guards) Bring Polyeucte and if he still defy, Self-doomed, insensate, this my proffered grace, He shall the death he wooes forthwith embrace! ALBIN. Ah, this is stern! FELIX. 'Tis stern, 'tis just—as fate; When justice drags a halting foot, too late, She is not justice—for the vengeful mob (Whose hearts for Polyeucte ne'er cease to throb), Usurps her place, and, spurning curb and rein, The felon crowns, and all our work is vain. My sceptre trembles, and all insecure Totters my crown,—a prey for every boor. Then, swift, Severus hears the welcome news, The jaundiced mind of Decius to abuse. Shall I, the rabble's lord, obey the rabble's will? ALBIN. Who ill in all around foresees,—but doubles ill. Each prop thou hast is but a sword to pierce; If Polyeucte hold their heart, the people fierce Will gather fiercer courage from despair. FELIX. Death settles all; they'll find no helper there, And if—without a head—the body should rebel, Convulsive throes I mock, and nerveless fury quell. Whate'er ensues the Emperor must approve, I shall have done my part, and win his love. Here comes the man (Enter Polyeucte and Soldiers) I still must try to save; If he repent—'tis well! If not—the grave! (To Polyeucte) Is life still hateful? Doth death still allure? Is earth still naught? Do heavenly joys endure? Doth Christ still counsel thee to hate thy wife;— To sheathe thy sword,—to cast away thy life? POLY. I never hated life, or wooed a grave, To life I am a servant—not a slave. Here service free I give upon this earth below,— For higher service changed when to His Home I go. Eternal life is this: to tread the path He trod; To Him your body yield! Then trust your soul to God! FELIX. Yes, trust to an abyss of depth unknown! POLY. No, trust to Holy Cross! That Cross my own! FELIX. The steep ascent, my son, I too would climb, Yes, I would Christian be,—but—give me time,— By Jove! I'll tread thy path! This my desire. Else at thy hand the judge may me require! POLY. Nay, laugh not, Felix! He thy Judge will be, No refuge there for impious blasphemy! Nor kings nor clowns can 'scape His righteous ire, His slaughtered Saints of thee will He require! FELIX. I'll slay no more;—by Hercules I swear! So I a Christian crown perchance may wear; I will protect the flock! POLY. Nay, rather be A goad, a scourge, for their felicity! Let suffering purify each Christian soul, Cross, rack, and flame but lead them to their goal; What here they lose—in Heaven an hundredfold they find. Be cruel,—persecute!—and so alone be kind! My words thou canst not read; thine eyes are blinded here, Wait the unveiling There! Then understand and fear! FELIX. Nay, nay, in truth I would a Christian be! POLY. In thy hard heart alone a bar I see. FELIX (whispering). This Roman knight—— POLY (aloud). Severus, thou wouldst say. FELIX. Once let him sail, I will no more delay, For this I anger feign;—let him depart! POLY. 'Tis thus thou wouldst reveal a Christian heart? To idols dumb—to Pagans blind, thy sugared poison bear, Christ's servants quaff another cup, sure refuge from despair. FELIX. What is this deadly draught that thou wouldst drain? I'll drink thy wine.—Till then, from death refrain! POLY. To swine no more my holy pearls I cast, Faith,—faith—not reason, shall see light at last; Soon—when I see my God—yes, face to face, I will implore that Felix may find grace. FELIX. O dearest son, thy loss were death to me! POLY. This loss can be repaired—the remedy Find in Severus; he will take my place; By Decius honoured he will not disgrace Thy house: my death will an advantage win For thee, for her, for me.—The work begin! FELIX. Such my reward! Yes, insult is the child Of injury. The grace I grant, reviled, Shall turn to swift revenge. The gods defied May do their will and speed the suicide! POLY. I thought the gods were dead, but they revive With human passion; Felix, do not strive Against thy nature; lay aside thy ruth; Who loves a lie can never follow truth. FELIX. I humoured madness, but the mood is o'er, I am myself again; I did implore,— 'Twas vain; the dark abyss that yawns for thee May hold thee now, tomb to thy constancy. The hope I cherished—fondled—now is flown Severus will be king, and I o'erthrown;— Shall I the gods by incense pacify? Or by thy death? for thou, at last, must die! POLY. Incense might but incense; I cannot tell: (Enter Pauline) Pauline! PAUL. That word broke from thee like a knell; Who seeks my doom to-day? Thou—or my sire? Who fires the brand? Who lights the funeral pyre? My father should, by nature, be my friend, And lover's heart to love an ear should lend. Who here is mine ally, and who my foe? Who has a heart to feel?—this would I know. FELIX. Nay, to thy lord appeal. (Pauline turns to Polyeucte) POLY. Severus wed! PAUL. Ah, this is outrage! Rather strike me dead! POLY. Oh, dearer than myself to me thy weal! My love would never wound, it seeks to heal. I see thee wrestle with thy deep distress Alone—unless Severus bring redress; His merit, that once gained thy maiden heart, Hath still that worth when I from thee must part, Once loved—and loving still—his honour grows. PAUL. Thy wife's true heart another treatment owes: O base reproach! For this I crushed for thee My former love: that I disdained might be? This my reward for dearest victory won,— I did that love undo—to be myself undone! |
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