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!—