Chrysanthus. 
                O the pain!

Daria. 
O the woe! unhappy me!

Polemius. 
Take them hence, and let them be
(Since my justice now at least
Makes amends for mercy past)
Punished so effectually
That their wishes, their desires,
What each wanteth or requires,
Shall be thwarted or denied,
That between opposing fires
They for ever shall be tried:—­
Since Chrysanthus’ former mood
Only wished the solitude
Whence such sorrows have arisen,
Take him to the public prison,
And be sure in fire and food
That he shall not be preferred
To the meanest culprit there. 
Naked, abject, let him fare
As the lowest of the herd: 
There, while chains his body gird,
Let him grovel and so die:—­
For Daria, too, hard by
Is another public place,
Shameful home of worse disgrace,
Where imprisoned let her lie: 
If, relying on the powers
Of her beauty, her vain pride
Dreamed of being my son’s bride,
Never shall she see that hour. 
Soon shall fade her virgin flower,
Soon be lost her nymph-like grace—­
Roses shall desert her face,
Waving gold her silken hair. 
She who left Diana’s care
Must with Venus find her place: 
’Mong vile women let her dwell,
Vile, abandoned even as they.

Escarpin (aside). 
There my love shall have full play. 
O rare judge, you sentence well!

Chrysanthus. 
Sir, if thou must have a fell
Vengeance for this act of mine,
Take my life, for it is thine;
But my honour do not dare
To insult through one so fair.

Daria. 
Wreak thy rage, if faith divine
So offends thee, upon me,
Not upon my chastity:—­
’T is a virtue purer far
Than the light of sun or star,
And has ne’er offended thee.

Polemius. 
Take them hence.

Chrysanthus. 
                  Ah me, to find
Words, that might affect thy mind! 
Melt thy heart!

Daria. 
                 Ah, me, who e’er
Saw a martyrdom so rare?—­

Polemius. 
Wouldst thou then the torment fly,
Thou hast only to deny
Christ.

Chrysanthus. 
         The Saviour of mankind? 
This I cannot do.

Daria. 
                   Nor I.

Polemius. 
Let them instantly from this
To their punishment be led.—­

Escarpin. 
Do not budge from what you said. 
It is excellent as it is.

Chrysanthus. 
Woe is me! but wherefore fear,
O beloved betroth`ed mine?—­
Trust in God, that power divine
For whose sake we suffer here:—­
He will aid us and be near:—­

Daria. 
In that confidence I live,
For if He His life could give
For my love, and me select,
He His honour will protect.