STRAT.
What dost thou dread?
Paul.
Heaven—hell—earth—empty
air!
All, all is food for
dread to my despair,
As thou unveil’st,
begirt in lurid light,
The pallid ghost that
slew me in the night!
STRAT.
Severus he by name,
yet noble in his heart!
Paul.
Ah, Polyeucte bathed
in blood! Depart! depart!
STRAT.
For Polyeucte’s
welfare did Severus pray!
Paul.
Yes, yes, his heart
is great; be that my stay!
Yet, tho’ his
truth, his faith, well-proved be,
Most baleful is his
presence here to me;
Yea, tho’ he would
all ill for me undo
Yet he hath power, he
loves—he came to woo.
(Enter Polyeucte and Nearchus.)
Poly.
The source of tears
is dry, oh, weep no more,
Thy grief lay down,
thy fearful heart restore!
Let night’s dark
dream with superstition die,
The dream is past, for
here in life am I!
Paul.
The day is young, and
oh, the day is long,—
And half the dream is
true, and Fate is strong;
Severus have I seen,
who thought him dead!
Poly.
I know it! Let
no tear for this be shed!
Secure with thee am
I! Tho’ great the knight,
Thy father will command
to do me right;
The general is a man
of honour,—he
Would ne’er that
honour dim by treachery!
He comes in amity, our
friend, our guest;
To greet his worth and
valour now my quest.
Paul.
Radiant he came, who
left me hopeless, sad,
But he will come no
more,—this grace I had.
Poly.
What? Thinkest
thou that I can jealous be?
Paul.
An outrage this on him,
on thee, on me!
He came in peace, who
all my peace hath marred.
Who would run safely,
every step must guard;
The wife who danger
courts but courts her fall
My husband, aid me!—I
would tell thee all!
His worth, his charm,
do my weak hearth enflame
A traitor here!
And he is aye the same!
If I should gaze, and
long—’gainst virtue, honour, sense,
The citadel I yield,
and mine my own defence!
I know my virtues sure,
and fair my fame,
But struggle is defeat,—and
combat shame!
Poly.
Oh, true thy shield,
thy victory is won,
He only who has lost
thee is undone;
His noble grief the
cost of all my bliss,
Ah, Cleopatra’s
pearl was naught to this!
The more my faults I
see, the more thy truth I learn,
The more do I admire——
(Enter Cleon.)
Cleon.
My lord, the altars
burn
With holy fire.
The victim they prepare;
On thee alone they wait,
our rites to share.