Polyeucte - Part 2
Library

Part 2

All gifts save one had he--yes, Fortune held her hand, And I, as Fortune's slave, obeyed my sire's command.

STRAT.

Ah! I must wish that love the day had won!

PAUL.

Which duty lost--then had I been undone; Though duty gave, yet duty healed, my pain; Yet say not that my love was weak or vain!

Our tears fell fast, yet ne'er bore our distress The fatal fruit of strife and bitterness.

Then, then, I left my hero, hope and Rome, And, far from him, I found another home; While he, in his despair, sought sure relief In death, the only end to life's long grief!

You know the rest:--you know that Polyeucte's eye Was caught,--his fancy pleased; his wife am I.

Once more by counsel of my father led, To Armenia's greatest n.o.ble am I wed; Ambition, prudence, policy his guide Yet only duty made Pauline his bride; Love might have bound me to Severus' heart, Had duty not enforced a sterner part.

Yes, let these fears attest, all trembling for his life, That I am his for aye--his faithful, loving wife.

STRAT.

Thy new love true and tender as the old:-- But this thy dream? No more thy tale withhold!

PAUL.

Last night I saw Severus: but his eye With anger blazed; his port was proud and high, No suppliant he--no feeble, formless shade, With dim, averted eye; no sword had made My hero lifeless ghost. Nor wound, nor scar Marked death his only conqueror in war.

Nor spoil of death, nor memory's child was he, His mien triumphant, full of majesty!

So might victorious Caesar near his home To claim the key to every heart in Rome!

He spoke: in nameless awe I heard his voice,-- 'Give love, that is my due, to him--thy choice,-- But know, oh faithless one, ere day expires, All vain these tears for him thy heart desires!'

Anon a Christian band (an impious horde), With shameful cross in hand, attest his word; They vouch Severus' truth--and, to complete My doom, hurl Polyeucte beneath his feet!

I cried, 'O father, timely succour bear!'

He heard, he came, my grief was now despair!

He drew his dagger--plunged it in the breast Of him, my husband, late his honoured guest!

Relief came but from agony supreme-- I shrieked--I writhed--I woke--it was a dream!

And yet my dream is true!

STRAT.

'Tis true your dream is sad, But now you are awake, 'tis but a dream you had!

For horror's prey in darkness of the night Is but our reason's sport in morning light.

How can you dread a shade? How a fond father fear, Who as a son regards the man you hold so dear?

To phantom of the night no credence yield; For him and you he chose thy strength and shield.

PAUL.

You say _his_ words: at all my fears he smiles, But I must dread these Christians and their wiles!

I dread their vengeance, wreaked upon my lord, For Christian blood my father has outpoured!

STRAT.

Their sect is impious, mad, absurd and vain, Their rites repulsive, as their cult profane.

Deride their altar, their weak frenzy ban, Yet do they war with G.o.ds and not with man!

Relentless wills our law that they must die: Their joy--endurance; death--their ecstasy; Judged--by decree, the foes of human race, Meekly their heads they bow--to court disgrace!

PAUL.

My father comes--oh, peace!

(Enter Felix and Albin)

FELIX.

Nay, peace is flown!

Thy dream begets dull fears, till now unknown; In part this dream is true, and for the rest----

PAUL.

By what new fear, say, is thy heart opprest?

FELIX.

Severus lives!

PAUL.

Ah! this no cause for fear!

FELIX.

At Decius' court, he, held in honour dear, Risked life to save his Emperor from his foes, 'Tis to his saviour Decius honour shows!

PAUL.

Thus fickle Fortune bows her head to fate, And pays the honour due, though all too late!

FELIX.

He comes! Is near----

PAUL.

The G.o.ds----

FELIX.

Do all things well.

PAUL.

My dream fulfilled! But how? O father, tell!

FELIX.

Let Albin speak, who saw him face to face With tribe of courtiers; all to him give place; Unscathed in battle, all extol his fame, Unstained, undimmed, his glory, life and name!

ALBIN.

You know the issue of that glorious fight: The crowning glory his--who, in despite Of danger sore to life and liberty, Became a slave to set his Emperor free: Rome gave her honours to Severus' shade, Whilst he, her ransomer, in a dungeon stayed.

His death they mourned above ten thousand slain, While Persia held him--yes, their tears were vain, But not in vain his n.o.ble sacrifice!

The king released him: Rome grudged not the price; No Persian bribe could tempt him from his home.

When Decius cried--'Fight once again for Rome!'

Again he fights--he leads--all others hope resign; But from despair's deep breast he plucks a star benign, This--hope's fair fruit, contentment, plenty, ease, Brings joy from grief, to crown a lasting peace.

The Emperor holds him as his dearest friend, And doth Severus to Armenia send-- To offer up to Mars, and mighty Jove, 'Mid feast and sacrifice, his thanks and love.

FELIX.

Ah, Fortune, turn thy wheel, else I misfortune meet!

ALBIN.

This news I learn'd from one of great Severus' suite: Thence, swiftly here, the tale to tell I sped.

FELIX.

He who once vainly wooed, hopes now to wed.

The sacrifice, the offering, all are feigned, All but the suit, which lightly I disdained.