_Max._ Answer, in short, to what you heard her speak. [_To_ APOL. _Apol._ Where truth prevails, all arguments are weak. To that convincing power I must give place; And with that truth that faith I will embrace. _Max._ O traitor to our gods--but more to me! Dar'st thou of any faith but of thy prince's be? But sure thou rav'st; thy foolish error find: Cast up the poison that infects thy mind, And shun the torments thou art sure to feel. _Apol._ Nor fire, nor torture, nor revenging steel Can on my soul the least impression make: How gladly, truth, I suffer for thy sake! Once I was ignorant of what was so; But never can abandon truth I know. My martyrdom I to thy crown prefer; Truth is a cause for a philosopher. _S. Cath._ Lose not that courage which heaven does inspire; [_To_ APOL. But fearless go to be baptised in fire. Think 'tis a triumph, not a danger near: Give him your blood; but give him not a tear. Go, and prepare my seat; and hovering be Near that bright space, which is reserved for me. _Max._ Hence with the traitor; bear him to his fate. _Apol._ Tyrant, I fear thy pity, not thy hate: A life eternal I by death obtain. _Max._ Go, carry him, where he that life may gain. [_Exeunt_ APOL. VAL. _and Guards_. _Plac._ From this enchantress all these ills are come: You are not safe till you pronounce her doom. Each hour she lives a legion sweeps away; She'll make your army martyrs in a day. _Max._ 'Tis just: This Christian sorceress shall die. Would I had never proved her sorcery! Not that her charming tongue this change has bred; I fear 'tis something that her eyes have said. I love; and am ashamed it should be seen. [_Aside._ _Plac._ Sir, shall she die? _Max._ Consider, she's a queen. _Plac._ Those claims in Cleopatra ended were. _Max._ How many Cleopatra's live in her! [_Aside._ _Plac._ When you condemned her, sir, she was a queen. _Max._ No, slave! she only was a captive then. _S. Cath._ My joyful sentence you defer too long. _Max._ I never knew that life was such a wrong. But if you needs will die,--it shall be so. --Yet think it does from your perverseness flow. Men say, indeed, that I in blood delight; But you shall find--haste, take her from my sight! --For Maximin I have too much confest; And, for a lover, not enough exprest. Absent, I may her martyrdom decree; But one look more will make that martyr me. [_Exit St_ CATHARINE, _guarded_. _Plac._ What is it, sir, that shakes your mighty mind? _Max._ Somewhat I am ashamed that thou shouldst find.