ill,
But thou must remember still,
That He hath, this God of mine,
Human nature and divine,
And that it has been His will
As it were His power to hide--
God made man--man deified--
When this sinful world He trod,
Since He was not born as God,
And it was as man He died.

DARIA.
Does it not more greatness prove,
As among the beauteous stars,
That one deity should be Mars,
And another should be Jove,
Than this blending God above
With weak man below? To thee
Does not the twin deity
Of two gods more power display,
Than if in some mystic way
God and man conjoined could be?

CHRYSANTHUS.
No, I would infer this rather,
If the god-head were not one,
Each a separate course could run:
But the untreated Father,
But the sole-begotten Son,
But the Holy Spirit who
Ever issues from the two,
Being one sole God, must be
One in power and dignity:--
Until thou dost hold this true,
Till thy creed is that the Son
Was made man, I cannot hear thee,
Cannot see thee or come near thee,
Thee and death at once to shun.

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!--

POLEMIUS.
Is the cure of thy disease,
What must that disease have been!
'T is Carpophorus. . . .

DARIA.
Dread scene!

POLEMIUS.
He who with false science came
Not to give thee life indeed,
But that he himself should bleed:--
That thy fate be not the sam