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!