Harp. Unless that he blaspheme, he's lost for ever.
If torments ever could bring forth despair,
Let these compel him to it:—Oh me!
My ancient enemies again! [Falls down.
Enter Dorothea in a white robe, a crown upon her head, led in by Angelo; Antoninus, Calista, and Christeta following, all in white, but less glorious; Angelo holds out a crown to Theophilus.
Theoph. Most glorious vision!—
Did e'er so hard a bed yield man a dream
So heavenly as this? I am confirm'd,
Confirm'd, you blessed spirits, and make haste
To take that crown of immortality
You offer to me. Death! till this blest minute,
I never thought thee slow-paced; nor would I
Hasten thee now, for any pain I suffer,
But that thou keep'st me from a glorious wreath,
Which through this stormy way I would creep to,
And, humbly kneeling, with humility wear it.
Oh! now I feel thee:—blessed spirits! I come;
And, witness for me all these wounds and scars,
I die a soldier in the Christian wars. [Dies.
Sap. I have seen thousands tortured, but ne'er yet
A constancy like this.
Harp. I am twice damn'd.
Ang. Haste to thy place appointed, cursed fiend!
[Harpax sinks with thunder and lightning.
In spite of hell, this soldier's not thy prey;
'Tis I have won, thou that hast lost the day.
[Exit with Dor. &c.
Diocle. I think the centre of the earth be crack'd—
Yet I stand still unmoved, and will go on:
The persecution that is here begun,
Through all the world with violence shall run.
[Flourish. Exeunt.