Paul. 
     For love’s dear sake, ah, listen to my prayer!

     Poly. 
     For love’s dear sake—­await the answer there!

     Paul. 
     To leave me here is naught!  Thou wouldst seduce my soul!

     Poly. 
     Heaven is scarce Heaven for me, if thou reach not the goal.

     Paul. 
     O fancy-fooled!

     Poly. 
     Nay, led by heavenly light!

     Paul. 
     Thy faith is blindness!

     Poly. 
     Faith is more than sight!

     Paul. 
     Ah, death, strange rival to a wife’s pure love!

     Poly. 
     This world our rival with the joys above!

     Paul. 
     Go, monster! woo thy death!  Thou lov’dst me never!

     Poly. 
     Go, seek the world! and yet I love thee ever!

     Paul. 
     Yes, I will go—­if absence bring relief—­

     (Enter Severus, Fabian and Guards)

     Who comes to invade, ah, not to cure my grief? 
     Severus!  Who could guess that thou wouldst show
     Revenge unworthy o’er a prostrate foe?

     Poly. 
     Unworthy thee the thought, Pauline, for I
     Severus called, and he hath heard my cry. 
     My importunity he will excuse,
     My prayer I know that he will not refuse. 
     Severus—­this—­the treasure that was mine
     To thy most tender care I now resign: 
     To thee, as noblest man that I have known;—­
     Since earthly ties and joys I must disown. 
     The gift is worthy thee,—­I know thy worth
     Is great, but she no equal hath on earth. 
     My life, the bar,—­my death the link shall be,—­
     Oh, grudge me not my dear brief ecstasy! 
     Oh, ease the heart that once was hers,—­and guide
     Her doubting footsteps to the Crucified! 
     This my last benison!  All else is poor! 
     Await the promised light!  Believe!  Endure! 
     But words are vain!

     (Polyeucte signs to Guards to conduct him back to prison.  Exeunt
     Polyeucte and Guards.)

     SEV. 
     Most vain!  No word have I
     Such blindness must amaze! must stupefy! 
     Nay, this is frenzy!  I cannot conceive
     A mind so strange!  Mine ears cannot believe
     That one who loved thee—­yet, who would not love
     A face that must the great immortals move?—­
     Blessed by thy heart!—­Thy sweetest lips to taste!—­
     Then leave, refuse, spurn—­yield with clamorous haste,
     To yield a girl so dear—­so pure—­so fair! 
     And of that gift to make thy rival heir—­
     This beggars madness!  Or the Christian bliss
     Beyond man’s soul to grasp!  To spurn thy kiss!—­
     We treasure barter for a just exchange,