FELIX.
Yes, trust to an abyss of depth unknown!

POLY.
No, trust to Holy Cross! That Cross my own!

FELIX.
The steep ascent, my son, I too would climb,
Yes, I would Christian be,--but--give me time,--
By Jove! I'll tread thy path! This my desire.
Else at thy hand the judge may me require!

POLY.
Nay, laugh not, Felix! He thy Judge will be,
No refuge there for impious blasphemy!
Nor kings nor clowns can 'scape His righteous ire,
His slaughtered Saints of thee will He require!

FELIX.
I'll slay no more;--by Hercules I swear!
So I a Christian crown perchance may wear;
I will protect the flock!

POLY.
Nay, rather be
A goad, a scourge, for their felicity!
Let suffering purify each Christian soul,
Cross, rack, and flame but lead them to their goal;
What here they lose--in Heaven an hundredfold they find.
Be cruel,--persecute!--and so alone be kind!