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 appear, 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.
Max. You are a Christian then! [To Felicia.
For death this very hour you must prepare: I have decreed no Christian's life to spare.