Polyeucte Part 14

Severus--this--the treasure that was mine To thy most tender care I now resign: To thee, as n.o.blest man that I have known;-- Since earthly ties and joys I must disown.

The gift is worthy thee,--I know thy worth Is great, but she no equal hath on earth.

My life, the bar,--my death the link shall be,-- Oh, grudge me not my dear brief ecstasy!

Oh, ease the heart that once was hers,--and guide Her doubting footsteps to the Crucified!

This my last benison! All else is poor!

Await the promised light! Believe! Endure!

But words are vain!

(Polyeucte signs to Guards to conduct him back to prison. Exeunt Polyeucte and Guards.)

SEV.

Most vain! No word have I Such blindness must amaze! must stupefy!

Nay, this is frenzy! I cannot conceive A mind so strange! Mine ears cannot believe That one who loved thee--yet, who would not love A face that must the great immortals move?-- Blessed by thy heart!--Thy sweetest lips to taste!-- Then leave, refuse, spurn--yield with clamorous haste, To yield a girl so dear--so pure--so fair!

And of that gift to make thy rival heir-- This beggars madness! Or the Christian bliss Beyond man's soul to grasp! To spurn thy kiss!-- We treasure barter for a just exchange, But to buy pain for thee! Pauline, 'tis strange!

Not thus, ye G.o.ds! Severus had been blind To perfect bliss--had Fortune been more kind The only heaven for me is in thine eyes, These are my kings, these my divinities!

To me--for thee--were death with torture dear; But to renounce thee!

PAUL.

Nay, I must not hear!

Thy words bring back the dear, the bygone days, When I, a maid, might listen to thy praise: Severus, thou must know my inmost heart; I hear the knell bids Polyeucte depart.

He dies,--the victim of thine Emperor's laws, And thou, though innocent, art yet the cause.

Oh, if thy soul, to thy desires a slave, See hope emerging from my husband's grave Then will I wed with pain--despair embrace,-- But wed Severus? Never! 'Twere disgrace!

To light fresh torch from that pale, flickering fire-- Oh, bliss too monstrous! Thrice abhorred desire!

Back, hope! Back, happiness! The mate for me When Polyeucte leaves my side--is Constancy!

Were this my will, were this, ye G.o.ds, my fate-- To shame would memory turn, as love must yield to hate!

But generous art thou--most generous be!

His pardon will my father grant to thee.

He fears thee: more, if Polyeucte's life he take, For thee he slays him--yes, 'tis for thy sake.

Christ died for man--let pagan virtue dim His fame: plead for thy foe! so rival him!

No easy boon I ask, there needs a soul most rare; But when the fight is fierce--then is the victory fair.

To help a man to be what thou wouldst be Is triumph that belongs alone to thee!

Let this suffice thee: she, whom thou hast loved, She, who by thy great love was not unmoved, Of thee, and of no other dares to crave That thou, Severus, shouldst my husband save!

Farewell! of this thy labour gauge the scope: If thou art less than I yet dare to hope, Then tell me not! all else Pauline can bear!

(Exit Pauline.)

SEV.

Where am I, Fabian? Has the crack of doom Turned heaven to h.e.l.l? made life a living tomb?

Nearer and dearer ever--but to go!

The prize within my grasp must I o'erthrow?

This--Fortune's br.i.m.m.i.n.g cup, with poison filled, She bids me drain;--so new-born hope is killed.

Before I proffer aught, I am refused; Thus sad, amazed, ashamed, in doubt, abused, I see the ghost I laid, to life revive, The more seductive still the more I strive.

Ah! must a woman, sunk in deep despair, Teach me that shame is base, and honour fair?

And while I madly shriek, 'O love, be kind!'

Pauline, death-stricken, keeps an equal mind!

O generous, but stern! Must these dear eyes, Because I love them, o'er love tyrannise?

'Tis not enough to lose thee, I must give My aid--to make my faithless rival live!

'Tis not enough: his death I would not plan, But I must save him! bless where I would ban!

FABIAN.

Ah, let the whole crew light one funeral pyre; Yes, let the daughter perish with her sire!

This curs'd Armenian is one hornet's nest-- Crush all, then sail for Rome, ah! this were best!

She loves thee not. What canst thou hope to gain?

SEV.

A glory that shall triumph over pain; 'Tis hers, and, by the G.o.ds, it shall be mine!

Nor G.o.d nor fiend can sully such a shrine!

FABIAN.

Speak low, for Jove has bolts, and h.e.l.l has ears!

The dangers of this course arouse my fears.

What? Decius implore a Nazarene to save!

'Tis death that hath thy heart; thou woo'st a grave.

His rage against the sect thou knowest well, His power unbridled--his revenge is fell.

To plead for Christians is a task too great, For man or G.o.d: thou rushest on thy fate.

SEV.

Yes, such advice, I know, is much approved, Yet not thus can Severus' soul be moved.

To Fate unequal--equal to myself-- In duty's path I go. For power and pelf I never swerve where honour leads the way; Come weal, come woe, her call I must obey.

Let fate depress an all unequal scale, Let Clothe hold her distaff--I'll not fail!

Yet one more word--this to thy private ear-- The fables that thou dost of Christians hear Are fables only, coined, I know not why, Distorted are they seen in Decius' eye.

They practice the black art,--so all men say.

I sought to learn the laws that they obey, And to discover what the secret guilt The which to expiate their blood is spilt.

Yet priests of Cybele dark rites pursue At Rome--untrammelled--this is nothing new: To thousand G.o.ds men build, unchecked, their fanes, The Christians' G.o.d alone our state disdains.

Each foul Egyptian beast his temple rears, Caligula a G.o.d to Roman ears-- Tiberius is enshrined--a Nero deified-- To Christ--to Christ alone--a temple is denied!

Such metamorphoses confuse the mind As G.o.ds in cats, and saints in fiends we find; As Ruler absolute Jehovah stands, Alone o'er heaven and earth and h.e.l.l commands, While pagan G.o.ds each 'gainst the other strive, And ne'er one queen is found o'er all the hive, Now--(strike me dead, Jove's tarrying thunderbolt!) So many masters must provoke revolt.

And ah! where Christians live--there life is pure, Vice dies untended, virtues all endure.

We give these men to rack, and cord, and flame, While they forgive us--in their Pardoner's name.

They no sedition raise, they ne'er rebel, Rome makes them soldiers, and they serve her well.

They rage in battle, faithful ward they keep, They fight like lions, but they die like sheep.

They serve the State: Rome's servant must defend Those who to might of Rome such succour lend.

Pauline, I will obey, whate'er befall; The man who loseth honour loseth all.

ACT V--FELIX. ALBIN. CLEON

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' n.o.ble 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!'