The Two Lovers of Heaven: Chrysanthus and Daria Part 21

CHRYSANTHUS.

What?

DARIA.

To be a G.o.d, and die, Doth imply a contradiction.

And if thou dost still deny To my G.o.d the name divine, And reject him in thy scorn For beginning, I opine, If thy G.o.d could die, that mine Might as easily be born.

CHRYSANTHUS.

Thou dost argue with great skill, But thou must remember still, That He hath, this G.o.d of mine, Human nature and divine, And that it has been His will As it were His power to hide-- G.o.d made man--man deified-- When this sinful world He trod, Since He was not born as G.o.d, And it was as man He died.

DARIA.

Does it not more greatness prove, As among the beauteous stars, That one deity should be Mars, And another should be Jove, Than this blending G.o.d above With weak man below? To thee Does not the twin deity Of two G.o.ds more power display, Than if in some mystic way G.o.d and man conjoined could be?

CHRYSANTHUS.

No, I would infer this rather, If the G.o.d-head were not one, Each a separate course could run: But the untreated Father, But the sole-begotten Son, But the Holy Spirit who Ever issues from the two, Being one sole G.o.d, must be One in power and dignity:-- Until thou dost hold this true, Till thy creed is that the Son Was made man, I cannot hear thee, Cannot see thee or come near thee, Thee and death at once to shun.

DARIA.

Stay, my love may so be won, And if thou wouldst wish this done, Oh! explain this mystery!

What am I to do, ah! me, That my love may thus be tried?

CARPOPHORUS (within).

Seek, O soul! seek Him who died Solely for the love of thee.

CHRYSANTHUS.

All that I could have replied Has been said thus suddenly By this voice that, sounding near, Strikes upon my startled ear Like the summons of my death.

DARIA.

Ah! what frost congeals my breath, Chilling me with icy fear, As I hear its sad lament: Whence did sound the voice? [Enter Polemius and soldiers.

POLEMIUS.

From here: 'T is, Chrysanthus, my intent Thus to place before thy sight-- Thus to show thee in what light I regard thy restoration Back to health, the estimation In which I regard the wight Who so skilfully hath cured thee.

A surprise I have procured thee, And for him a fit reward: Raise the curtain, draw the cord, See, 't is death! If this . . .

(A curtain is drawn aside, and Carpophorus is seen beheaded, the head being at some distance from the body.)

CHRYSANTHUS.

I freeze!--

POLEMIUS.

Is the cure of thy disease, What must that disease have been!

'T is Carpophorus. . . .

DARIA.

Dread scene!

POLEMIUS.

He who with false science came Not to give thee life indeed, But that he himself should bleed:-- That thy fate be not the same, Of his mournful end take heed: Do not thou that dost survive, My revenge still further drive, Since the sentence seems misread-- The physician to be dead, And the invalid alive.--

CHRYSANTHUS.

It were cruelty extreme, It were some delirious dream, That could see in this the cure Of the ill that I endure.

POLEMIUS.

It to him did pity seem, Seemed the sole reward that he Asked or would receive from me: Since when dying, he but cried . .

THE HEAD OF CARPOPHORUS.

Seek, O soul! seek Him who died Solely for the love of thee!--

CHRYSANTHUS.

What a portent!

DARIA.

What a wonder!

ESCARPIN.

Jove! my own head splits asunder!--

POLEMIUS.

Even though severed, in it dwells Still the force of magic spells.

CHRYSANTHUS.

Sir, it were a fatal blunder To be blind to this appalling Tragedy you wrong by calling The result of spells--no spells Are such signs, but miracles Outside man's experience falling.

He came here because he yearned With his pure and holy breath To give life, and so found death.

'T is a lesson that he learned-- 'T is a recompense he earned-- Seeing what his Lord could do, Being to his Master true: Kill me also: He had one Bright example: shall I shun Death in turn when I have two?

POLEMIUS.

I, in listening to thy raving, Scarce can calm the wrath thou 'rt braving.

Dead ere now thou sure wouldst lie, Didst thou not desire to die.

CHRYSANTHUS.

Father, if the death I 'm craving . . .

POLEMIUS.

Speak not thus: no son I know.

CHRYSANTHUS.

Not to thee I spoke, for though Humanly thou hast that name, Thou hast forfeited thy claim: I that sweet address now owe Unto him whose holier aim Kindled in my heart a flame Which shall there for ever glow, Woke within me a new soul That thou 'rt powerless to control-- Generated a new life Safe against thy hand or knife: Him a father's name I give Who indeed has made me live, Not to him whose tyrant will Only has the power to kill.

Therefore on this dear one dead, On this pallid corse laid low, Lying bathed in blood and snow, By this lifeless lodestone led, I such bitter tears shall shed, That my grief . . .

POLEMIUS.

Ho! instantly Tear him from it.

DARIA (aside).

Thus to be By such prodigies surrounded, Leaves me dazzled and confounded.

POLEMIUS.

Hide the corse.

ESCARPIN.

Leave that to me (The head and body are concealed).

POLEMIUS.