A service to a master not unthankful,"
I could say these, in spite of your prevention,
Seduced by an imagined faith, not reason,
(Which is the strength of nature), quite forsaking
The Gentile gods, had yielded up themselves
To this new-found religion. This I cross'd,
Discover'd their intents, taught you to use,
With gentle words and mild persuasions,
The power and the authority of a father,
Set off with cruel threats; and so reclaim'd |
them:

And, whereas they with torment should have

died,

braid

Chris. And what we maintain, We will seal with our bloods. Harp. Brave resolution!

I e'en grow fat to see my labours prosper. Theoph. I young again. To your devotions.

Theoph. O my Harpax!

Thou engine of my wishes, thou that steel'st
My bloody resolutions, thou that arm'st

My eyes 'gainst womanish tears and soft compassion,

Instructing me, without a sigh, to look on

Babes torn by violence from their mothers' breasts
To feed the fire, and with them make one flame;
Old men, as beasts, in beasts' skins torn by dogs;
Virgins and matrons tire the executioners;
Yet I, unsatisfied, think their torments easy-
Harp. And in that, just, not cruel.
Theoph. Were all sceptres

That grace the hands of kings, made into one,
And offer'd me, all crowns laid at my feet,

I would contemn them all,-thus spit at them;
So I to all posterities might be call'd

The strongest champion of the Pagan gods,
And rooter out of Christians.

Harp. Oh, mine own,

Mine own dear lord! to further this great work, I ever live thy slave.

Enter SAPRITIUS and SEMPRONIUS. Theoph. No more.-The governor.

Sap. Keep the ports close, and let the guards be doubled;

Disarm the Christians; call it death in any
To wear a sword, or in his house to have one.
Semp. I shall be careful, sir.
Sap. "Twill well become you.
Such as refuse to offer sacrifice
To any of our gods, put to the torture.

Grub up this growing mischief by the roots;
And know, when we are merciful to them,
We to ourselves are cruel.

Semp. You pour oil

On fire that burns already at the height:
I know the emperor's edict, and my charge,
And they shall find no favour.

Theoph. My good lord,

This care is timely for the entertainment
Of our great master, who this night in person
Comes here to thank you.

Sap. Who! the emperor?

Harp. To clear your doubts, he doth return in triumph,

Kings lackeying' by his triumphant chariot;
And in this glorious victory, my lord,

You have an ample share: for know, your son,
The ne'er enough commended Antoninus,

So well hath flesh'd his maiden sword, and dyed His snowy plumes so deep in enemies' blood, That, besides public grace beyond his hopes, There are rewards propounded.

Sap. I would know

No mean in thine, could this be true. Harp. My head

Answer the forfeit.

Sap. Of his victory

There was some rumour: but it was assured,
The army pass'd a full day's journey higher,
Into the country.

Harp. It was so determined;
But, for the further honour of your son,
And to observe the government of the city,
And with what rigour, or remiss indulgence,
The Christians are pursued, he makes his stay
here:
[Trumpets.
For proof, his trumpets speak his near arrival.

1 Lackeying-running by the side of it like lackeys.GIFFORD.

Enter SEMPRONIUS, at the head of the guard, soldiers leading three Kings bound; ANTONINUS and MACRINUS bearing the Emperor's eagles; DIOCLESIAN with a gilt laurel on his head, leading in ARTEMIA; ŠAPRITIUS kisses the Émperor's hand, then embraces his Son; HARPAX brings in CALISTA and CHRISTETA. Loud skouts.

Diocle. So: at all parts I find Cæsarea Completely govern'd: the licentious soldier Confined in modest limits, and the people Taught to obey, and not compell'd with rigour: The ancient Roman discipline revived, Which raised Rome to her greatness, and pro

claim'd her

Whose power upon this globe of earth is equal
To Jove's in heaven; whose victorious triumphs
On proud rebellious kings that stir against it,
Are perfect figures of his immortal trophies
Won in the Giants' war; whose conquering
sword,

Guided by his strong arm, as deadly kills
As did his thunder! all that I have done,
Or, if my strength were centupled, could do,
Comes short of what my loyalty must challenge.
But if in anything I have deserved

Great Cæsar's smile, 'tis in my humble care
Still to preserve the honour of those gods,
That make him what he is: my zeal to them
I ever have express'd in my fell hate
Against the Christian sect, that with one blow
(Ascribing all things to an unknown Power)
Would strike down all their temples, and allows
them

Of equal nearness to himself; behold This pair of virgins.

Diocle. What are these?

Sap. His daughters.

Artem. Now by your sacred fortune, they are fair ones,

Exceeding fair ones: would 'twere in my power To make them mine!

Theoph. They are the gods', great lady,
They were most happy in your service else:
On these, when they fell from their father's faith,
I used a judge's power, entreaties failing
(They being seduced) to win them to adore
The holy Powers we worship; I put on
The scarlet robe of bold authority,

And, as they had been strangers to my blood,
Presented them in the most horrid form,

All kind of tortures; part of which they suffer'â
With Roman constancy.

Artem. And could you endure, Being a father, to behold their limbs Extended on the rack?

Theoph. I did; but must

Confess there was a strange contention in me,
Between the impartial office of a judge,
And pity of a father; to help justice,
Religion stept in, under which odds
Compassion fell:-yet still I was a father.

For e'en then, when the flinty hangman's whips Were worn with stripes spent on their tender limbs,

I kneel'd, and wept, and begg'd them, though they would

Be cruel to themselves, they would take pity
On my grey hairs; now note a sudden change,
Which I with joy remember; those whom tor-

you,

Rebels and traitors to the power of Rome,
Should not with all extremities undergo,
What can you urge to qualify your crimes,
Or mitigate my anger?

K. of Epire. We are now

Slaves to thy power, that yesterday were kings,
And had command o'er others; we confess
Our grandsires paid yours tribute, yet left us,
As their forefathers had, desire of freedom.
And, if you Romans hold it glorious honour
Not only to defend what is your own,

But to enlarge your empire (though our fortune
Denies that happiness), who can accuse
The famish'd mouth, if it attempt to feed?

Or such, whose fetters eat into their freedoms,
If they desire to shake them off?

K. of Pontus. We stand

The last examples, to prove how uncertain
All human happiness is; and are prepared
To endure the worst.

K. of Macedon. That spoke, which now is highest

In Fortune's wheel, must, when she turns it next,

Decline as low as we are. This consider'd,
Taught the Egyptian Hercules, Sesostris,
That had his chariot drawn by captive kings,
To free them from that slavery ;-but to hope
Such mercy from a Roman, were mere madness:
We are familiar with what cruelty

Rome, since her infant greatness, ever used
Such as she triumph'd over; age nor sex
Exempted from her tyranny; sceptred princes
Kept in her common dungeons, and their children,
In scorn train'd up in base mechanic arts,
For public bondmen. In the catalogue
Of those unfortunate men, we expect to have
Our names remember'd.

Diocle. In all growing empires

Even cruelty is useful: some must suffer,
And be set up examples to strike terror
In others, though far off; but, when a state
Is raised to her perfection, and her bases
Too firm to shrink, or yield, we may use meres.
And do't with safety: but to whom? not cowards
Or such whose baseness shames the conqueror,
And robs him of his victory, as weak Perseus
Did great Æmilius. Know, therefore, kings
Of Epire, Pontus, and of Macedon,

That I with courtesy can use my prisoners,
As well as make them mine by force, provided
That they are noble enemies: such I found you,
Before I made you mine; and, since you were

hearts,

And in it I most happy. Queen of fate,
Imperious Fortune! mix some light disaster
With my so many joys, to season them,
And give them sweeter relish: I'm girt round
With true felicity; faithful subjects here,
Here bold commanders, here with new-made
friends:

But, what's the crown of all, in thee, Artemia,
My only child, whose love to me and duty,
Strive to exceed each other!

Artem. I make payment

But of a debt, which I stand bound to tender
As a daughter and a subject.

Diocle. Which requires yet

A retribution from me, Artemia,
Tied by a father's care, how to bestow
A jewel, of all things to me most precious:
Nor will I therefore longer keep thee from
The chief joys of creation, marriage rites;
Which that thou may'st with greater pleasures
taste of,

Thou shalt not like with mine eyes, but thine

own.

Among these kings, forgetting they were captives;

Or those, remembering not they are my subjects, Make choice of any. By Jove's dreadful thunder, My will shall rank with thine.

Artem. It is a bounty

The daughters of great princes seldom mect with;

For they, to make up breaches in the state,
Or for some other public ends, are forced

To match where they affect not. May my life
Deserve this favour!

Diocle. Speak; I long to know The man thou wilt make happy.

Artem. If that titles

Or the adored name of Queen could take me,
Here would I fix mine eyes, and look no further;
But these are baits to take a mean-born lady,
Not her, that boldly may call Cæsar father:
In that I can bring honour unto any,
But from no king that lives receive addition:
To raise desert and virtue by my fortune,
Though in a low estate, were greater glory,
Than to mix greatness with a prince that owes
No worth but that name only.

Diocle. I commend thee;

"Tis like myself.

Artem. If, then, of men beneath me,

My choice is to be made, where shall I seek,
But among those that best deserve from you?
That have served you most faithfully; that in
dangers

Ilave stood next to you; that have interposed Their breasts as shields of proof, to dull the swords

Aim'd at your bosom; that have spent their blood

To crown your brows with laurel ?

Macr. Cytherea,

Great Queen of Love, be now propitious to me! Harp. [to SAP. Now mark what I foretold. Anton. Her eye's on me.

Fair Venus' son, draw forth a leaden dart,

And, that she may hate ine, transfix her with it;
Or, if thou needs wilt use a golden one,
Shoot it in the behalf of any other:
Thou know'st I am thy votary elsewhere.

[Aside.

Stand like a block when such an angel courts

thee!

Artem. I am no object to divert your eye

From the beholding.

Anton. Rather a bright sun,

Too glorious for him to gaze upon,

That took not first flight from the eagle's aerie. As I look on the temples, or the gods,

And with that reverence, lady, I behold you, And shall do ever.

Artem. And it will become you,

While thus we stand at distance; but if love, Love born out of the assurance of your virtues, Teach me to stoop so low

Anton. Oh, rather take

A higher flight.

Artem. Why, fear you to be raised?

Say I put off the dreadful awe that waits
On majesty, or with you share my beams,

Nay, make you to outshine me; change the

name

Of Subject into Lord, rob you of service
That's due from you to me; and in me make it
Duty to honour you; would you refuse me?
Anton. Refuse you, madam! such a worm as I

am,

Refuse what kings upon their knees would sue for!

Call it, great lady, by another name;

An humble modesty, that would not match
A molehill with Olympus.

Artem. He that's famous

For honourable actions in the war,
As you are, Antoninus, a proved soldier,
Is fellow to a king.

Anton. If you love valour,

As 'tis a kingly virtue, seek it out,'

And cherish it in a king; there it shines brightest,
And yields the bravest lustre. Look on Epire,
A prince in whom it is incorporate:

And let it not disgrace him that he was
O'ercome by Caesar; it was victory,

To stand so long against him: had you seen him,

How in one bloody scene he did dischargo

The parts of a commander and a soldier,
Wise in direction, bold in execution;

You would have said, Great Cæsar's self excepted,

The world yields not his equal.

Artem. Yet I have heard,

Encountering him alone in the head of his troop, You took him prisoner.

K. of Epire. Tis a truth, great princess;
I'll not detract from valour.

Anton. 'Twas mere fortune;
Courage had no hand in it.
Theoph. Did ever man
Strive so against his own good?
Sap. Spiritless villain!

How I am tortured! By the immortal gods,
I now could kill him.

Diocle. Hold, Sapritius, hold,

On our displeasure hold!

Harp. Why, this would make

A father mad; 'tis not to be endured;
Your honour's tainted in't.

Sap. By heaven, it is:

I shall think of it.

Harp. 'Tis not to be forgotten.

Artem. Nay, kneel not, sir, I am no ravisher,

Nor so far gone in fond affection to you,
But that I can retire, my honour safe:-
Yet say, hereafter, that thou hast neglected
What, but seen in possession of another,
Will make thee mad with envy.

Anton. In her looks

Revenge is written.

Mac. As you love your life,

Study to appease her.

Anton. Gracious madam, hear me.
Artem. And be again refused?

Anton. The tender of

My life, my service, or, since you vouchsafe it, My love, my heart, my all; and pardon me, Pardon, dread princess, that I made some scruple To leave a valley of security,

To mount up to the hill of majesty,

On which, the nearer Jove, the nearer lightning.
What knew I, but your grace made trial of me?
Durst I presume to embrace, where but to touch
With an unmanner'd hand, was death? The fox,
When he saw first the forest's king, the lion,
Was almost dead with fear; the second view
Only a little daunted him; the third,

He durst salute him boldly: pray you apply this;
And you shall find a little time will teach me
To look with more familiar eyes upon yon,
Than duty yet allows me.
Sap. Well excused.

Artem. You may redeem all yet.
Diocle. And that he may

Have means and opportunity to do so,