Fel. For death! I hope you but my courage try: Whatever I believe, I dare not die. Heaven does not, sure, that seal of faith require; Or, if it did, would firmer thoughts inspire. A woman's witness can no credit give To truths divine, and therefore I would live.
Max. I cannot give the life which you demand: But that and mine are in your daughter's hand: Ask her, if she will yet her love deny, And bid a monarch, and her mother, die.
Fel. Now, mighty prince, you cancel all my fear: My life is safe, when it depends on her. How can you let me languish thus in pain! [To St Cath.
Make haste to cure those doubts which yet remain. Speak quickly, speak, and ease me of my fear.
S. Cath. Alas, I doubt it is not you I hear! Some wicked fiend assumes your voice and face, To make frail nature triumph over grace. It cannot be— That she, who taught my childhood piety, Should bid my riper age my faith deny; That she, who bid my hopes this crown pursue, Should snatch it from me when 'tis just in view.
Fel. Peace, peace! too much my age's shame you show: How easy 'tis to teach! how hard to do! My labouring thoughts are with themselves at strife: I dare not die, nor bid you save my life.
Max. You must do one, and that without delay; Too long already for your death I stay. I cannot with your small concerns dispense; For deaths of more importance call me hence. Prepare to execute your office strait. [To his Guards.
Fel. O stay, and let them but one minute wait! Such quick commands for death you would not give, If you but knew how sweet it were to live.
Max. Then bid her love.
Fel. Is duty grown so weak, [To St Catharine.