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Be not so moved, Orceres; I can bear it: The God I worship, who hath made me humble, Hath made me dauntless too. And for the shame Which, as I guess, disturbs thee most, my Master, The Lord and Leader I have sworn to follow, Did as a malefactor end his days, To save a lost, perverted race: shall I Feel degradation, then, in following him?

In this, alas! thou'lt follow him too surely; But whither, noble Maro?

Ev'n to my destined home, my Father's house.

And where is that? O, canst thou tell me where? Beyond the ocean, or beneath the earth? Be there more worlds than this, beyond our ken In regions vast, above the lofty stars? Could we thro' the far stretch of space descry Ev'n but the distant verge, tho' dimly mark'd, Of any other world, I would believe That virtuous men deceased have in good truth A destined place of rest.

Believe it—O, believe it, brave Orceres!

I'll try to do it. I'll become a Christian, Were it but only to defy this tyrant.