Nearchus goaded--planned--and he shall fall!

FELIX.
So taught by torture of his vilest friend,
Shall Polyeucte mark of guilt the certain end,
When of the frenzied race he sees the goal,
The dread of torture shall subdue his soul!
Who mocked the thought of death, when death he views,
Will choose an easier mate--and rightly choose.
That shadowy guest, that doth his soul entice,
Once master, glues all ardour into ice,
And that proud heart, which never meekness knew,
When face to face with Death--will learn to sue!

PAUL.
What! Thinkest thou his soul can ever blench?

FELIX.
Death's mighty flood must every furnace quench!

PAUL.
It might! It may!--I know such things can be!
A Polyeucte changed--debased--forsworn I see!
O, changeful Fortune! changeless Polyeucte move,
And grant a boon denied by father's love!

FELIX.
My love too plain--myself too weakly kind,
Let him repent and he shall pardon find;
Nearchus' sin is his,--and yet the grace