Polemius. 
By some sorcery ’t was effected,
For those Christians use enchantments,
And then miracles pretend them.

A soldier. 
See, a crowd of them there flying
To the mountains.

Polemius. 
                   Intercept them,
And secure the rabble rout;
This one I shall guard myself here:—­ [Exeunt Aurelius and soldiers. 
Miserable wretch! who art thou? 
Thus that I may know thee better,
Judging from thy face thy crimes,
I unveil thee.  Gracious heaven! 
My own son!

Chrysanthus. 
             Oh! heavens! my father!

Polemius. 
Thou with Christians here detected? 
Thou here in their caverns hidden? 
Thou a prisoner?  Wherefore, wherefore,
O immense and mighty Jove,
Are thy angry bolts suspended?

Chrysanthus. 
’T was to solve a certain doubt
Which some books of thine presented,
That I sought Carpophorus,
That I wandered to these deserts,
And . . .

Polemius. 
          Cease, cease; for now I see
What has led to this adventure: 
Thou unhappily art gifted
With a genius ill-directed;
For I count as vain and foolish
All the lore that lettered leisure
Has in human books e’er written;
But this passion has possessed thee,
And to learn their magic rites
Here, a willing slave, has led thee.

Chrysanthus. 
No, not magic was the knowledge
I came here to learn—­far better—­
The high mysteries of a faith
Which I reverence, while I dread them.

Polemius. 
Cease, oh! cease once more, nor let
Such vile treason find expression
On thy lips.  What! thou to praise them!

Aurelius (within). 
Yonder wait the two together.

Polemius. 
Cover up thy face once more,
That the soldiers, when they enter,
May not know thee, may not know
How my honour is affected
By this act, until I try
Means more powerful to preserve it.

Chrysanthus (aside). 
God, whom until now I knew not,
Grant Thy favour, deign to help me: 
Grant through suffering and through sorrow
I may come to know Thee better.

(Enter Aurelius and Soldiers.)

Aurelius. 
Though we searched the whole of the mountain,
Not one more have we arrested.

Polemius. 
Take this prisoner here to Rome,
And be sure that you remember
All of you my strict commands,
That no hand shall dare divest him
Of his veil:—­ [Chrysanthus is led out. 
              Why, why, O heavens! [aside. 
Do I pause, but from my breast here
Tear my bleeding heart?  How act
In so dreadful a dilemma? 
If I say who he is, I tarnish
With his guilt my name for ever,
And my loyalty if I ’m silent,
Since he being here transgresses
By that fact alone the edict: 
Shall I punish him?  The offender
Is my son.  Shall I free him?  He
Is my enemy and a rebel:—­
If between these two extremes
Some mean lies, I cannot guess it. 
As a father I must love him,
And as a judge I must condemn him. [Exeunt.