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• The Works of Voltaire: the Dramatic Works of Voltaire Vol. Viii— Part I
• MÉrope
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• A Letter to the Marquis Scipio Maffei, Author of the Italian Mérope, and Many Other Celebrated Performances.
• A Letter From M. De La Lindelle to M. De Voltaire.
• The Answer of M. De Voltaire to M. De La Lindelle.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Olympia
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• The Orphan of China
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• To the Most Noble Duke of Richelieu, Marshal and Peer of France, First Gentleman of the Chamber to His Majesty, Governor of Languedoc, and Member of the Academy of Sciences.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Brutus
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• The Dramatic Works of Voltaire Vol. Viii— Part Ii
• Mahomet.
• To His Majesty the King of Prussia.
• A Letter From M. De Voltaire to Pope Benedict XIV.
• The Answer of Pope Benedict XIV. To M. De Voltaire. Benedictus P. P. Dilecto Filio Salutem & Apostolicam Benedictionem.
• A Letter of Thanks From M. De Voltaire to the Pope.
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act Ii
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Amelia
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Œdipus
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Mariamne
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Socrates
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

mérope, euricles, ismenia.

mérope.

• Hast thou heard nothing of my dear Ægisthus?
• No news from Elis’ frontiers? O, too well
• I know the cause of this ill-boding silence!

euricles.

• In all our search we have discovered naught,
• Save a young stranger, reeking with the blood
• Of one whom he had murdered: we have chained,
• And brought him hither.

mérope.

• Ha! a murderer,
• A stranger too! Whom, thinkest thou, he has slain?
• My blood runs cold.

euricles.

• The mere effect of love
• And tenderness: each little circumstance
• Alarms a soul like thine, that ever dwells
• On one sad object; ’tis the voice of nature,
• And will be heard; but let not this disturb thee,
• A common accident: our borders long
• Have been infested with these ruffian slaves,
• The baneful fruit of our intestine broils;
• Justice hath lost her power; our husbandmen
• Call on the gods for vengeance, and lament
• The blood of half their fellow-citizens,
• Slain by each other’s hand: but, be composed,
• These terrors are not thine.

mérope.

• Who is this stranger?
• Answer me, tell me.

euricles.

• Some poor nameless wretch,
• Such he appears; brought up to infamy,
• To guilt, and sorrow.

mérope.

• Well, no matter who,
• Or what he is; let him be brought before me.
• Important truths are often brought to light
• By meanest instruments. Perhaps my soul
• Is too much moved; pity a woman’s weakness,
• Pity a mother, who has all to fear,
• And nothing to neglect: let him appear;
• I’ll see, and question him.

euricles.

• Your orders, madam,
• Shall be obeyed.
• [To Ismenia.
• Tell them to bring him here,
• Before the queen.

mérope.

• I know my cares are vain;
• But grief overpowers, and hurries me to act
• Perhaps imprudent; but you know I’ve cause
• For my despair; they have dethroned my son,
• And would insult the mother: Poliphontes
• Hath taken advantage of my helpless state,
• And dared to offer me his hand.

euricles.

• Thy woes
• Are greater even than thou thinkest they are.
• I know this marriage would debase thy honor,
• And yet I see it must be so; thy fate
• Hath bound thee to it by the cruel tie
• Of dire necessity: I know it wears
• A dreadful aspect, yet perchance may prove
• The only means of placing on the throne
• Its rightful master, so the assembled chiefs
• And soldiers think; they with—

mérope.

• My son would ne’er
• Consent to that: no: poverty and exile,
• With all their pains, were far less dreadful to him
• Than these base nuptials.

euricles.

• If to assert his rights
• Alone sufficed to seat him on the throne,
• Doubtless his pride would spurn the shameful bond:
• But if his soul is by misfortune taught
• To know itself, if prudence guides his steps,
• If his own interest, if his friends’ advice,
• And above all, necessity, the first
• Of human laws, have any influence o’er him,
• He would perceive, that his unhappy mother
• Could not bestow on him a dearer mark
• Of her affection.

mérope.

• Ha! what sayest thou?

euricles.

• Truth,
• Unwelcome truth, which nothing but my zeal,
• And your misfortunes, should have wrested from me.

mérope.

• Wouldst thou persuade me then, that interest e’er
• Can get the better of my fixed aversion
• For Poliphontes, you who painted him
• In blackest colors to me?

euricles.

• I described him
• Even as he is, most dangerous and bold;
• I know his rashness, and I know his power;
• Naught can resist him, he’s without an heir.
• Remember that: you say, you love Ægisthus.

mérope.

• I do; and ’tis that love which makes the tyrant
• Still more detested: wherefore talkest thou thus
• Of marriage and of empire? speak to me
• Of my dear son; and tell me if he lives;
• Inform me, Euricles.

euricles.

• Behold the stranger
• Whom you desired to question; see, he comes.

SCENE II.

mérope, euricles, ægisthusin chains,ismenia,Guards.

ægisthus.

• [At the bottom of the stage. To Ismenia.
• Is that the great unfortunate, the queen,
• Whose glory and whose sorrows reached even me
• Amidst the desert wild where I was hid?

ismenia.

• ’Tis she.

ægisthus.

• Thou great creator of mankind!
• Thou, who didst form those matchless charms, look down
• And guard thy image: virtue on a throne
• Is sure the first and fairest work of heaven.

mérope.

• Is that the murderer? Can such features hide
• A cruel heart? Come near, unhappy youth,
• Be not alarmed, but answer me; whose blood
• Is on thy hands?

ægisthus.

• O, queen, forgive me; fear,
• Respect, and grief, bind up my trembling lips.
• [Turning to Euricles.
• I cannot speak; her presence shakes my soul
• With terror and amazement.

mérope.

• Tell me whom
• Thy arm has slain.

ægisthus.

• Some bold presumptuous youth,
• Whom fate condemned to fall the wretched victim
• Of his own rashness.

mérope.

• Ha! a youth! my blood
• Runs cold within me: didst thou know him?

ægisthus.

• No:
• Messene’s walls, her fields, and citizens,
• Are new to me.

mérope.

• And did this unknown youth
• Attack thee then? ’twas in thy own defence?

ægisthus.

• Heaven is my witness, I am innocent.
• Just on the borders of Pamisus, where
• A temple stands, sacred to Hercules,
• Thy great progenitor, I offered up
• To the avenger of wronged innocence
• My humble prayers for thee; I had no victims,
• No precious gifts to lay before him; all
• I had to give him, was a spotless heart,
• And simple vows, the poor man’s hecatomb:
• It seemed as if the god received my homage
• With kind affection, for I felt my heart
• By more than common resolution fired:
• Two men, both armed, and both unknown, surprised me;
• One in the bloom of youth, the other sunk
• Into the vale of years: “What brings thee here?”
• They cried, “and wherefore for Alcides’ race
• Art thou a suppliant?” At this word they raised
• The dagger to my breast: but heaven preserved me.
• Pierced o’er with wounds, the youngest of them fell
• Dead at my feet; the other basely fled,
• Like an assassin: knowing not what blood
• I might have shed, and doubtful of my fate,
• I threw the bloody corpse into the sea,
• And fled; your soldiers stopped me; at the name
• Of Mérope, I yielded up my arms,
• And they have brought me hither.

euricles.

• Why these tears,
• My royal mistress?

mérope.

• Shall I own it to thee?
• I melted with compassion, as he told
• His melancholy tale; I know not why,
• But my heart sympathized with his distress:
• It cannot be, I blush to think it, yet
• Methought I traced the features of Cresphontes:
• Cruel remembrance! wherefore am I mocked
• With such deceitful images as these,
• Such fond delusions?

euricles.

• Do not then embrace
• Such vain suspicions, he’s not that barbarian,
• That vile impostor, which we thought him.

mérope.

• No:
• Heaven hath imprinted on his open front
• The marks of candor, and of honesty.
• Where wert thou born?

ægisthus.

In Elis.

mérope.

• Ha! in Elis!
• In Elis! sayst thou? Knowst thou aught of Narbas,
• Or of Ægisthus? Never hath that name
• Yet reached thine ear? What rank, condition, friends,
• Who was thy father?

ægisthus.

• Polycletes, madam,
• A poor old man: to Narbas, or Ægisthus,
• Of whom thou speakest, I am a stranger.

mérope.

• Gods!
• Why mock ye thus a poor unhappy mortal?
• A little dawn of hope just gleamed upon me,
• And now my eyes are plunged in deepest night:
• Say, what rank did thy parents hold in Greece?

ægisthus.

• If virtue made nobility, old Sirris
• And Polycletes, from whose blood I sprang,
• Are not to be despised: their lot indeed
• Was humble, but their exemplary virtues
• Made even poverty respectable:
• Clothed in his rustic garb, my honest father
• Obeys the laws, does all the good he can,
• And only fears the gods.

mérope.

• [Aside.
• How strangely he affects me! every word
• Has some new charm:
• [Turning to Ægisthus.
• But wherefore left you then
• The good old man? It must be dreadful to him
• To lose a son like thee.

ægisthus.

• A fond desire
• Of glory led me hither: I had heard
• Of your Messene’s troubles, and your own:
• Oft had I heard of the illustrious queen,
• Whose virtues merited a better fate;
• The sad recital moved my soul; ashamed
• To spend at Elis my inglorious days,
• I longed to brave the terrors of the field
• Beneath thy banners: this was my design,
• And this alone: an idle thirst of fame
• Misled my steps, and in their helpless age
• Persuaded me to leave my wretched parents:
• ’Tis my first fault, and I have suffered for it:
• Heaven hath avenged their cause, and I am fallen
• Into a fatal snare.

mérope.

• ’Tis plain he is not,
• Cannot be guilty; falsehood never dwells
• With such ingenuous, sweet simplicity:
• Heaven has conducted here this hapless youth,
• And I will stretch the hand of mercy to him:
• It is enough for me he is a man,
• And most unfortunate; my son perhaps
• Even now laments his more distressful fate:
• O he recalls Ægisthus to my thoughts:
• Their age the same; perhaps Ægisthus now
• Wanders like him from clime to clime, unknown,
• Unpitied, suffers all the bitter woes
• And cruel scorn that waits on penury:
• Misery like this will bend the firmest soul,
• And wither all its virtues: lot severe
• For a king’s offspring, and the blood of gods!
• O if at least—

SCENE III.

mérope, ægisthus, euricles, ismenia.

ismenia.

• Hark! madam, heard you not
• Their loud tumultuous cries? You know not what—

mérope.

• Whence are thy fears?

ismenia.

• ’Tis Poliphontes’ triumph:
• The wavering people flatter his ambition,
• And give their voices for him; he is chosen
• Messene’s king: ’tis done.

ægisthus.

• I thought the gods
• Had on the throne of her great ancestors
• Placed Mérope: O heaven! the greater still
• Our rank on earth, the more have we to fear:
• A poor abandoned exile, like myself,
• Is less to be lamented than a queen:
• But we have all our sorrows.
• [Ægisthus is led off.

euricles.

[To Mérope.

• I foretold it:
• You were to blame to scorn his proffered hand,
• And brave his power.

mérope.

• I see the precipice
• That opens wide its horrid gulf before me;
• But men and gods deceived me; I expected
• Justice from both, and both refused to grant it.

euricles.

• I will assemble yet our little force
• Of trusty friends, to anchor our poor bark,
• And save it from the fury of the storm;
• To shield thee from the insults of a tyrant,
• And the mad rage of an ungrateful people.

SCENE IV.

mérope, ismenia.

ismenia.

• ’Tis not the people’s fault; they love you still,
• And would preserve the honor of your crown:
• They wish to see you joined to Poliphontes,
• That from your hand he then might seem to hold
• The sovereign power.

mérope.

• They give me to a tyrant,
• Betray Ægisthus, and enslave his mother.

ismenia.

• They call you to the throne of your forefathers:
• Obey their voice; it is the voice of heaven.

mérope.

• And wouldst thou have me purchase empty honors
• With infamy and shame?

SCENE V.

mérope, euricles, ismenia.

euricles.

• O queen, I tremble
• To stand before thee: now prepare thy heart
• For the most dreadful stroke; call forth thy courage
• To bear the news.

mérope.

• I have no courage left,
• ’Tis worn out by misfortune; but no matter.
• Proceed, inform me.

euricles.

• All is past; and fate—
• I can no more.

mérope.

• Go on: my son—

euricles.

• He’s dead:
• It is too true: the dreadful news hath shocked
• Your friends, and froze their active zeal.

mérope.

• My son,
• Ægisthus, dead!

ismenia.

• O gods!

euricles.

• Some base assassins
• Had in his passage laid the snares of death;
• The horrid crime is done.

mérope.

• O hateful day!
• Why shines the sun on such a wretch as I?
• He’s lost; he’s gone: what cruel hand destroyed him!
• Who shed his blood, the last of my sad race?

euricles.

• It was that stranger, that abandoned slave,
• Whose persecuted virtue you admired,
• For whom such pity rose in your kind breast;
• Even he whom you protected.

mérope.

• Can it be!
• Was he that monster?

euricles.

• We have certain proofs,
• And have discovered two of his companions,
• Who, lurking here, were still in search of Narbas,
• Who had escaped them: he who slew Ægisthus
• Had taken from your son these precious spoils,
• [The armor is shown at a distance at the farther end of the stage.
• The armor which old Narbas bore from hence.
• The traitor, that he might not be discovered,
• Had thrown aside these bloody witnesses.

mérope.

• What hast thou told me? O these trembling hands
• Did on Cresphontes put that very armor
• When first he went to battle. Ye dear relics,
• O to what hands were ye delivered! monster,
• To seize this sacred armor.

euricles.

• ’Tis the same
• Ægisthus did bring hither.

mérope.

• Now behold it
• Stained with his blood! but in Alcides’ temple
• Did they not see a poor old man?

euricles.

• ’Twas Narbas:
• So Poliphontes owns.

mérope.

• O dreadful truth!
• The villain, to conceal his crime, hath cast
• His body to the waves, and buried him
• In the rude ocean: O I see it all,
• All my sad fate: O my unhappy son!

euricles.

• Would you not have the traitor brought before you,
• And questioned here?

SCENE VI.

mérope, euricles, ismenia, erox,Guards.

erox.

• Permit me in the name
• Of Poliphontes, my rejected master.
• Perhaps rejected but because unknown,
• To offer you, in this distressful hour,
• His best assistance: he already knows
• Ægisthus is no more, and bears a part
• In your misfortunes.

mérope.

• That I know he does,
• A joyful part, and reaps the fruits of them,
• The throne of my Cresphontes, and Ægisthus.

erox.

• That throne he wishes but to share with you,
• And throw his sceptre at thy feet; the crown
• He hopes will make him worthy of thy hand:
• But to my hands the murderer must be given,
• For sacred is the power of punishment,
• ’Tis a king’s duty; he alone must wield
• The sword of justice, the throne’s best support,
• That to his people and to you he owes;
• Midst hymen rites the murderer’s blood shall flow,
• A great sacrifice.

mérope.

• My hand alone
• Shall strike the fatal blow: though Poliphontes
• Reigns o’er Messene, he must leave to me
• The work of vengeance: let him keep my kingdom,
• But yield to me the right of punishment:
• On that condition, and on that alone,
• I will be his: go, and prepare the rites:
• This hand, fresh bleeding from the traitor’s bosom,
• Shall at the altar join with Poliphontes

erox.

• Doubtless, the king, whose sympathetic heart
• Feels for your woes, will readily consent.

SCENE VII.

mérope, euricles, ismenia.

mérope.

• O Euricles, this vile detested marriage.
• Whate’er I promised, ne’er will come to pass:
• This arm shall pierce the savage murderer’s breast,
• And instant turn the dagger to my own.

euricles.

• O! madam, let me by the gods conjure you—

mérope.

• They have oppressed me sorely; I have been
• Too long the object of their wrath divine:
• They have deprived me of my dearest child,
• And at their altars shall I ask a husband?
• Shall I conduct a stranger to the throne
• Of my forefathers? Wouldst thou have me join
• The hymeneal to the funeral torch?
• Shall Mérope still raise her weeping eyes
• To heaven, that shines no more on my Ægisthus?
• Shall she wear out her melancholy days
• Beneath a hateful tyrant, and expect
• In tears and anguish an old age of sorrow?
• When all is lost, and not even hope remains,
• To live is shameful, and to die, our duty.

End of the Second Act.