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!

     POLY. 
     This loss can be repaired—­the remedy
     Find in Severus; he will take my place;
     By Decius honoured he will not disgrace
     Thy house:  my death will an advantage win
     For thee, for her, for me.—­The work begin!

     FELIX. 
     Such my reward!  Yes, insult is the child
     Of injury.  The grace I grant, reviled,
     Shall turn to swift revenge.  The gods defied
     May do their will and speed the suicide!

     POLY. 
     I thought the gods were dead, but they revive
     With human passion; Felix, do not strive
     Against thy nature; lay aside thy ruth;
     Who loves a lie can never follow truth.

     FELIX. 
     I humoured madness, but the mood is o’er,
     I am myself again; I did implore,—­
     ’Twas vain; the dark abyss that yawns for thee
     May hold thee now, tomb to thy constancy. 
     The hope I cherished—­fondled—­now is flown
     Severus will be king, and I o’erthrown;—­
     Shall I the gods by incense pacify? 
     Or by thy death? for thou, at last, must die!

     POLY. 
     Incense might but incense; I cannot tell: 

     (Enter Pauline)