Enter ALBINUS.

Alb. I long have listened to your generous strife, As much concerned for brave Porphyrius' life. For mine I to his favour owed this day; Which with my future service I will pay.

Plac. Lest any your intended flight prevent, I'll lead you first the back-way to my tent; Thence, in disguise, you may the city gain, While some excuse for your escape I feign. Val. Farewell! I must not see you when you Turning her face away. For that last look would break my tender heart. let it break I must have one look more:

Yet

part :

[Looking on him. Nay, now I'm less contented than before; For that last look draws on another too; Which sure I need not, to remember you. For ever- yet I must one glance repeat; But quick and short as starving people eat. So much humanity dwell in your breast, Sometimes to think on her who loves you best.

[Going-he takes her hand and kisses it. Por. My wandering steps wherever fortune bear, Your memory I in my breast will wear; Which, as a precious amulet, I still

Will carry, my defence and guard from ill.

Though to my former vows I must be true,

I'll ever keep one love entire for you;

That love, which brothers with chaste sisters make: And by this holy kiss, which now I take

From your fair hand

This common sun, which absent both shall see,
Shall ne'er behold a breach of faith in me.

Val. Go, go! my death will your short vows re

store;

You've said enough, and I can hear no more.

[Exeunt VAL. one way, and POR. and ALB. another.

Plac. Love and good nature, how do you betray!

Misleading those who see and know their way!
I, whom deep arts of state could ne'er beguile,
Have sold myself to ruin for a smile.

Nay, I am driven so low, that I must take
That smile, as alms, given for my rival's sake.

Enter MAXIMIN, talking with VALERIUS.
Max. And why was I not told of this before?
Val. Sir, she this evening landed on the shore;
For with her daughter being prisoner made,
She in another vessel was conveyed.

Max. Bring hither the Egyptian princess strait.

And you, Valerius, on her mother wait.

[TO PLAC.

[Exit VAL. Plac. The mother of the Egyptian princess here! Max. Porphyrius' death I will a while defer, And this new opportunity improve,

To make my last effort upon her love

[Exit PLAC. Those, who have youth, may long endure to court; But he must swiftly catch, whose race is short.

I in my autumn do my siege begin;

And must make haste, ere winter comes, to win. This hour-no longer shall my pains endure: Her love shall ease me, or her death shall cure.

Enter at one door FELICIA and VALERIUS, at the other St CATHARINE and PLACIDIUS.

S. Cath. O, my dear mother!

Fel. With what joy I see

My dearest daughter from the tempest free!
S. Cath. Dearer than all the joys vain empire
yields,

Or than to youthful monarchs conquered fields!
Before you came-my soul,

All filled with heaven, did earthly joys disdain:
But you pull back some part of me again.

Plac. You see, sir, she can own a joy below.
Max. It much imports me that this truth I
know.

Fel. How dreadful death does on the waves ap

pear,

Where seas we only see, and tempests hear!
Such frightful images did then pursue
My trembling soul, that scarce I thought of

you.

Plac. All circumstances to your wish combine: Her fear of death advances your design. [To Max. Fel. But to that only power we serve I prayed, Till He, who bid it rise, the tempest laid.

Mar. You are a Christian then! [TO FELICIA. For death this very hour you must prepare: I have decreed no Christian's life to spare.

Fel. For death! I hope you but my courage try : Whatever I believe, I dare not die.

Heaven does not, sure, that seal of faith require;
Or, if it did, would firmer thoughts inspire.
A woman's witness can no credit give

To truths divine, and therefore I would live.

Max. I cannot give the life which you demand: But that and mine are in your daughter's hand: Ask her, if she will yet her love deny,

And bid a monarch, and her mother, die.

Fel. Now, mighty prince, you cancel all my fear: My life is safe, when it depends on her.

How can you let me languish thus in pain!

[To St CATH. Make haste to cure those doubts which yet remain. Speak quickly, speak, and ease me of my fear.

S. Cath. Alas, I doubt it is not you I hear!
Some wicked fiend assumes your voice and face,
To make frail nature triumph over grace.
It cannot be

That she, who taught my childhood piety,
Should bid my riper age my faith deny;
That she, who bid my hopes this crown pursue,
Should snatch it from me when 'tis just in view.
Fel. Peace, peace! too much my age's shame you.
show:

How

easy 'tis to teach! how hard to do! My labouring thoughts are with themselves at strife:

I dare not die, nor bid you save my life.

Max. You must do one, and that without delay; Too long already for your death I stay.

I cannot with your small concerns dispense;
For deaths of more importance call me hence.
Prepare to execute your office strait.

[To his Guards. Fel. O stay, and let them but one minute wait! Such quick commands for death you would not

give,

If you but knew how sweet it were to live.

Mar. Then bid her love.

Fel. Is duty grown so weak,

[To St CATHARINE. That love's a harder word than death to speak? S. Cath. Oh!

Fel. Mistake me not; I never can approve A thing so wicked as the tyrant's love.

I ask you would but some false promise give,
Only to gain me so much time to live.

[Privately to St CATHARINE.
S. Cath. That promise is a step to greater sin :
The hold, once lost, we seldom take again.
Each bound to heaven we fainter essays make,
Still losing somewhat, till we quite go back.
Max. Away! I grant no longer a reprieve.
Fel. O do but beg my life, and I may live.

[To St CATH.

Have you not so much pity in your breast?
He stays to have you make it your request.
S. Cath. To beg your life-

Is not to ask a grace of Maximin :

It is a silent bargain for a sin.

Could we live always, life were worth our cost;
But now we keep with care what must be lost.
Here we stand shivering on the bank, and cry,
When we should plunge into eternity.
One moment ends our pain;

And yet the shock of death we dare not stand,
By thought scarce measured, and too swift for

sand:

'Tis but because the living death ne'er knew,
They fear to prove it as a thing that's new.
Let me the experiment before you try,
I'll show you first how easy 'tis to die.

Max. Draw then that curtain, and let death ap

pear,

And let both see how easy 'twill be there.

The SCENE opens, and shews the Wheel.

Fel. Alas, what torments I already feel! Max. Go, bind her hand and foot beneath that wheel: