S. Cath. Yet few could follow those strict rules

they gave;

For human life will human frailties have;
And love of virtue is but barren praise,
Airy as fame; nor strong enough to raise
The actions of the soul above the sense.
Virtue grows cold without a recompence.
We virtuous acts as duty do regard;
Yet are permitted to expect reward.

Apol. By how much more your faith reward as

sures,

So much more frank our virtue is than yours.

S. Cath. Blind men! you seek e'en those rewards you blame:

But ours are solid; yours an empty name.
Either to open praise your acts you guide,
Or else reward yourselves with secret pride.

Apol. Yet still our moral virtues you obey;
Ours are the precepts, though applied your way.
S. Cath. 'Tis true, your virtues are the same we
teach;

But in our practice they much higher reach.
You but forbid to take another's due,
But we forbid even to desire it too:
Revenge of injuries you virtue call;
But we forgiveness of our wrongs extol:
Immodest deeds you hinder to be wrought,
But we proscribe the least immodest thought.
So much your virtues are in ours refined,
That yours but reach the actions, ours the mind.
Max. Answer, in short, to what you heard her
speak.
[To APOL.
Apol. Where truth prevails, all arguments are

weak.

To that convincing power I must give place;
And with that truth that faith I will embrace.

Max. O traitor to our gods--but more to me! Dar'st thou of any faith but of thy prince's be? But sure thou rav'st; thy foolish error find: Cast up the poison that infects thy mind, And shun the torments thou art sure to feel. Apol. Nor fire, nor torture, nor revenging steel Can on my soul the least impression make: How gladly, truth, I suffer for thy sake! Once I was ignorant of what was so; But never can abandon truth I know. My martyrdom I to thy crown prefer; Truth is a cause for a philosopher.

S. Cath. Lose not that courage which heaven does inspire;

But fearless go to be baptised in fire.

Think 'tis a triumph, not a danger near:

[To APOL.

Give him your blood; but give him not a tear.
Go, and prepare my seat; and hovering be
Near that bright space, which is reserved for me.
Mar. Hence with the traitor; bear him to his
fate.

Apol. Tyrant, I fear thy pity, not thy hate:
A life eternal I by death obtain.

Max. Go, carry him, where he that life may gain. [Exeunt APOL. VAL. and Guards. Plac. From this enchantress all these ills are

come:

You are not safe till you pronounce her doom.
Each hour she lives a legion sweeps away;
She'll make your army martyrs in a day.

Max. 'Tis just: This Christian sorceress shall die. Would I had never proved her sorcery!

Not that her charming tongue this change has bred; I fear 'tis something that her eyes have said.

I love; and am ashamed it should be seen. [Aside. Plac. Sir, shall she die?

Max. Consider, she's a queen.

Plac. Those claims in Cleopatra ended were. Max. How many Cleopatra's live in her! [Aside. Plac. When you condemned her, sir, she was a queen.

Mar. No, slave! she only was a captive then.
S. Cath. My joyful sentence you defer too long.
Max. I never knew that life was such a wrong.
But if you needs will die,-it shall be so.
-Yet think it does from your perverseness flow.
Men say, indeed, that I in blood delight;

But you
shall find-haste, take her from my sight!
-For Maximin I have too much confest;
And, for a lover, not enough exprest.

Absent, I may her martyrdom decree;
But one look more will make that martyr me.

[Exit St CATHARINE, guarded. Plac. What is it, sir, that shakes your mighty

mind?

Max. Somewhat I am ashamed that thou shouldst find.

Plac: If it be love, which does your soul pos

sess

Max. Are you my rival, that so soon you guess Plac. Far, mighty prince, be such a crime from

me;

Which, with the pride, includes impiety.
Could you forgive it, yet the gods above
Would never pardon me a Christian love.

[Kneeling.

Max. Thou liest:-There's not a God inhabits

there,

But for this Christian would all heaven forswear. Even Jove would try more shapes her love to win, And in new birds, and unknown beasts, would sin: At least, if Jove could love like Maximin.

Plac. A captive, sir, who would a martyr die? Max. She courts not death, but shuns captivity.

Great gifts, and greater promises I'll make :
And what religion is't, but they can shake?
She shall live high;-Devotion in distress
Is born, but vanishes in happiness.

[Exit MAX. Plac. [Solus.] His son forgot, his empress unappeased

How soon the tyrant with new love is seized!
Love various minds does variously inspire

He stirs, in gentle natures, gentle fire,
Like that of incense on the altars laid;
But raging flames tempestuous souls invade;
A fire, which every windy passion blows;
With pride it mounts, and with revenge it glows.
But I accursed, who servilely must move,
And sooth his passion, for his daughter's love!
Small hope, 'tis true, attends my mighty care;
But of all passions love does last despair.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-The Royal Pavilion.

[Exit.

Enter MAXIMIN, PLACIDIUS, Guards, and
Attendants.

Mar. This love, that never could my youth en

gage,

Peeps out his coward head to dare my age.
Where hast thou been thus long, thou sleeping form,
That wak'st, like drowsy seamen, in a storm?
A sullen hour thou chusest for thy birth:
My love shoots up in tempests, as the earth
Is stirred and loosened in a blust'ring wind,
Whose blasts to waiting flowers her womb unbind.
Plac. Forgive me, if I say your passions are
So rough, as if in love you would make war.

But love is soft

And with soft beauty tenderly complies;
In lips it laughs, and languishes in eyes.

Mar. There, let it laugh; or, like an infant,

weep:

I cannot such a supple passion keep.

Mine, stiff with age, and stubborn as my arms, Walks upright; stoops not to, but meets her charms. Plac. Yet fierceness suits not with her gentle

kind;

They brave assaults, but may be undermined.

Max. Till I in those mean arts am better read, Court thou, and fawn, and flatter in my stead.

Enter St CATHARINE.

She comes; and now, methinks, I could obey;
Her form glides through me, and my heart gives

way:

This iron heart, which no impression took

From

wars, melts down, and runs, if she but look. [Exit MAXIMIN. Plac. Madam, I from the emperor am come, To applaud your virtue, and reverse your doom. He thinks, whatever your religion be,

This palm is owing to your constancy.

S. Cath. My constancy from him seeks no re

nown;

Heaven, that proposed the course, will give the

crown.

Plac. But monarchs are the gods' vicegerents

here;

Heaven gives rewards; but what it gives they bear: From heaven to you the Egyptian crown is sent, Yet 'tis a prince who does the gift present.

S. Cath. The deity I serve, had he thought fit, Could have preserved my crown unconquered yet: