Heraclius, Emperour of the East a tragedy
Corneille, Pierre, 1606-1684., Carlell, Lodowick, 1602?-1675.

The last Scene.

Heraclius, Martian taking himself for Heraclius, Pulcheria, her Women, Leontina, Eudoxia, Exuperius, Amintas, Guards and Attendants.
HERACLIƲS.
SAy Madam, is it true? is there a change?
Amintas tells us news, though good, yet strange.
LEON:
Sir the success, though great, you may believe,
Nor is there any blood, shed, we should grieve.
HERAC.
False to be generous, I thee embrace,
To Exuperius.
If I have power expect the highest grace.
Page  60
EXƲP.
I must beg pardon from one of you two,
If I have injur'd him, I have serv'd you.
MARTIAN
taking himself for Heraclius.
Either of both may easily forgive
His death, who was resolv'd we should not live.
Yet at the mention something touches me.
HERAC.
It may the great effects of nature be;
If so you have no great cause to complain,
If I the Empire, you my sister gain;
Nor can my dear Pulcheria now refuse,
The Father dead, how can you better chuse?
To Leons.
Madam, 'tis you alone can end the strife,
Either the Empire's mine, or she's my wife.
LEON.

And can I then alone the difference end?

HERAC.

Who else? on your knowledge all things depend.

LEON.
You may suspect me, yet of artifice,
Believe not me then, but the Emper〈…〉.
To Pulch:
Madam you know her hand, 'tis you that must
To both pretenders shew what they must trust;
This at her death she did deliver me.
PƲL.
Which thus I kiss upon my bended knee,
Pulcheria reads
After so many miseries endur'd,
Just Powers have me this happiness procur'd,
Before my eies by faithful Leontine,
My Son is once more chang'd; the great design
Not known so Phocas, he believes him his,
And so the Empire mine can hardly miss;
Those of our friends that yet have faith for us;
Must Martian love, he's my Heraclius.
Constantine.
Page  61To Herac.
You are my Brother then
HERAC.
I wisht to be
Tis mutual loves yields all felicity.
LEON:
You know enough, and need no incest fear,
Nor could that have faln out, such was my care;
But pardon, Sir, that blood I would have spilt,
To Mart.
As being yours, though none, it looks like guilt.
MARTIAN.
Against the common joy i'le not oppose,
What Nature makes me feel I will keep close;
Though he from any did not merit love,
A Parent's death some inward grief must move.
HERAC.
That you your grief the better may decline,
Leontius be again, Martian resign:
Under that name great glories you have won;
You have no vice to suit a Tyrants Son.
You, my Eudoxia, take my heart and throne.
For in exchange I know you give me one.
EƲD:
This your deliverance a joy affords,
Too high, to be express'd, in my low words.
HERAC:
O be not sad since your PƲLCHERIA may
To Mart.
Think strange, she yours, to see a gloomy day.
MARTIAN.
A mixture of such joies as yet cause grief,
Only from time and her should find relief.
HERAC.
to Leontina and Exuperius.
You my Preservers made my troubles blest,
Your love and courage bravely did contest;
The Victory I reap, your Harvest too;
Honours are still mine, whilst confer'd on you:
Page  62But first to the just Powers our thanks we'l pay,
That none but Traitors blood sprinkled our way.
Long live Heraclius.