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Show Tyranmcl^ Love, Or, * < % As fome, to witnefs Truth, Heav'ns Call obey, So fome on Earth muft, to confirm it, ftay. Por What Faith, what Witnefs is it that you name? Ber Knowing what (he believes, m y Faiths the lame. Por. H o w am Ierofs'd what way fce'er I go ! To the unlucky every thing is fo. Now, Fortune, thou haft fhewn thy utmoft fpight. The Soldiers will not for a Chriftian fight. And, Madam, all that I can promife now, Is but to Die before Death reaches you. # Ber. N o w Death draws near, a ffrange perplexity Creeps coldly on mc, like a fear to die: Courage uncertain dangers may abate, But who can bear th'approach of certain Fate ? S. Cath. The wifeft and the beft fome Fear may fhew, And with to ftay, though they refolve to go. Ber. As fome faint Pilgrim ftanding on the Shore, Fii ft views the Torrent he would venture o'er, And then his Inn upon the farther ground : Loth to wade through, andlother to go round: Then dipping in his Staff, does trial make, How deep his, and, fighing, pulls it back , Sometimes refolv'd to fetch his leap, and then Runs to the Bank, but there ftops fhort agen, So I at once^ Both Heav'nly Faith, and Humane Fear obey ; And feel before m e in an unknown way. For this Bleft Voyage I will with Joy prepare, Yet am afham'd to be a ftranger there. S. Cath. You are not yet enough prepar'd to Die: Earth hangs too heavy for your Soul to flie. Por Oneway (and Heav'n, I hope, infpires m y Mind) I for your Safety in this ftraight can find : But this fair Queen muft further m y intent. S. Cath. Name any way your Reafon can invent. Por. to Ber. Though your Religion, (which I cannot blame, Becaufe m y fecret Soul avows the fame) Has made your Life a Forfeit to the Laws, The Tyrant's new-born Paflion is the Caufe. Were this bright Princefs once remov'd away, Wanting the Food, the Flame would foon decay. And I'll prepare a faithful Guard this Night T'attend her Perfon, and fecure her flight. Ber. to S. Cath. By this way I fhall both from Death be free'd, And you unfore'd to any wicked Deed. S. Cath. Madam, m y Thoughts are with themfelves at ftrife, And Heav'n can witnefs how I prize your Life: But 'tis a doubtful Conflict I muft try. Betwixt m y Pity and m y Piety, Staying, your precious Life I muft expofe: Going, m y Crown of Martyrdom I lofe Por. Your equal Choice when Heaven does thus divide, You fhould, like Heav'n, ftill lean on Mercy's fide. S Cath The Will of Heav'n,)udg'd by a private Breaft, Is often what's our private Intereft. And therefore thofe who would that Will Obey, Without their Int'reft muft their Duty weigh As for m y felf, I do not Life defpife, But as the greateft Gift of Nature prize. M y Sex is weak, m y Fears of Death are ftrong, And whate'er is its Being would prolong. Were there no Sting in Death, for m e to Die Would not be Conqueft, but Stupidity. But Tbe Royal Martyr. 365 But if vain Honour can confirm the Soul, And fenfe of Shame, the fear of Death controul, H o w much more then fhould Faith uphold the Mind, Wliich, fhewing Death, fhews future Life behind? Ber. Of Death's Contempt Heroick Proofs you give, But, Madam, let m y weaker Virtue live. Your Faith may bid yoit your o w n Life refign : But not when yours muft be involv'd with mine. Since, then, you do not think m e fit to Die, Ah, H o w can you that Life I beg, deny ! S. Cath. Heav'n does in this m y greateft Trial make, W h e n I for it, the care of you fort'ake. But I a m plac'd as on a Theatre, Where all m y Acts to all Mankind appear, To imitate m y Conftancy or Fear. Then, Madam, judge what courfe I fhould purfue, W h e n I muft either Heav'n forfake, or you. Por. W e r e faving Berenice's Life a Sin, Heav'n had Ihut up your Flight from Maximin. S.Cath. Thus with fhort Plummets Heav'ns deep Will we found That vaft Abyfs where Humane W;it is drown'd ! In our fmall Skiff we muft not Launch too far, W e here but Coafters, not Difcoverers are. Faith's neceffary Rules are plain and few , W e many, and thofe needlefs Rules purfue : Faith from our Hearts, into our Heads we drive, And make Religion all Contemplative. You, on Heav'ns Will may witty Gloffes feign, But that which I muft practife here, is plain : If the All-great decree her Life to fpare, He will the means, without m y Crime, prepare. [txtt a. Lath. Por. Yet there is one w a y left 1 It is decreed, To fave your Life, that Maximin fhould bleed. 'Midft all his Guards I will his Death purfue, Or fall a Sacrifice to Love and You. Ber. So great a fear of Death I have not fhown, That I would fhed his Blood to fave m y own. M y fear is but from H u m a n Frailty brought, And never mingled with a wicked Thought. Por. 'Tis notT a Crime, fince one of you muft Die , Or is excus'd by the neceflity. Ber. I cannot to a Husband's Death confent, But, by revealing, will your Crime prevent. The horror of this Deed t Againft the fear of Death has arm'd m v Mind, And now lefs guilt in him than you 1 find: If I a Tyrant did deteft before, I hate a Rebel and a Tray tor more : Ungrateful M a n -- Remember whofe Succeflbr thou art made, And then thy Benefactor's Life invade. _ Por. folus. ] 'Tis true, what fhe has often urg d before, He's both m y Father and m v Emperour! O Honour, H o w canft thou invent a way To fave m y Queen, and not m y Truft betray! Unhappy I, that e'er he truftcd m e! As well his Guardian-Angel may his Murdrer be. A n d yet let Honour, Faith, and Virtue Hie, But let not Love in Berencce Die. She lives' - • That's put beyond Difpute as firm1 as.Fate: Honour and Faith, let Argument Debate. ^^ |