The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• 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.

the duke of foix.

• [Alone.
• She cannot sure again refuse to see me,
• And urge me to despair! she dare not do it:
• Fool that I am to give her thus the power;
• How weak is my proud heart to yield itself
• A voluntary slave! go, throw thyself,
• Mean as thou art, beneath the tyrant’s feet;
• Go, make thy life dependent on a word,
• A look, a smile, from proud Amelia; pass
• From love to fury, and from tears to rage;
• ’Tis the last time I e’er will speak to her.
• I go—

SCENE II.

the duke, amelia and thaisadvancing from the upper end of the stage.

amelia.

• There’s hope, my Thais; yet I tremble.
• Would Vamir hazard this bold enterprise?
• ’Tis full of danger; ha! what do I see?
• [Advancing towards the Duke.

duke.

• Amelia, what hath this way led thy steps
• I know not, but thy eyes too plainly tell me
• That I was not the object of their search:
• What! still turn from me, still insult the heart
• That dotes upon thee! cruel tyrant, thus
• To blast the laurels planted on my brow:
• O if Amelia’s hand had placed them there
• They might have flourished, but she has forgot
• Her plighted faith, and broke her flattering promise.

amelia.

• Thou never hadst my faith, I never gave
• Thee promise, gratitude is all I owe thee.

duke.

• Did I not offer thee my hand?

amelia.

• Thou didst:
• It was an honor which I could not merit,
• And which I never sought, but I received it
• With due respect; you thought, no doubt, a rank
• So glorious must have dazzled poor Amelia.
• At length, my lord, ’tis time to undeceive you;
• I do it with regret, because I know
• It will offend you, but I must be plain:
• In short, my lord, I love my king too well
• To think of wedding with his foe: thy blood,
• I know, is noble; mine is spotless yet,
• Nor will be stained with foul disloyalty,
• And I inherit from my ancestors
• The fixed abhorrence of my country’s foes:
• Nor will I e’er acknowledge for a master
• The friend of tyrants, be he e’er so great:
• Such is my firm resolve; perhaps, my lord,
• It may seem harsh, but you obliged me to it.

duke.

• This is a language, madam, which I own
• I looked not for; I never could have thought
• That angry heaven, to make me doubly wretched,
• Would choose Amelia for its instrument
• Of vengeance: you have studied long in secret
• The arts of black ingratitude, of scorn
• And insult, and now open all your heart.
• I was a stranger to this patriot zeal,
• This most heroic ardor for thy country,
• This fetch of policy; but tell me, madam,
• Whom have you here but this insulted lover,
• The injured Foix, to succor and support you?
• Thou hast reproached me with my new alliance,
• Those faithful friends on whom I here rely
• For all my safety, and for all my power:
• Without their aid thou hadst been still a captive;
• To them you owed your liberty and life,
• And am I thus rewarded?

amelia.

• You prolonged
• My wretched days; but are they therefore yours,
• And may I not dispose them as I please?
• Did you preserve me but to make me wretched,
• To be a tyrant o’er the life you saved?

duke.

• Ungrateful woman, thou deservest the name
• Of tyrant most, for now I read thy soul,
• See through the thin disguise, behold too plainly
• My own dishonor, and thy treacherous falsehood:
• I know thou lovest another, but whoe’er
• He be that thus hath robbed me of thy heart,
• Fear thou my love, and tremble at my rage;
• For, if he be on earth, I’ll find the traitor,
• And tear him from thee: if amidst its horrors
• My soul could feel one momentary joy,
• ’Twould be to make thee wretched.

amelia.

• No: my lord,
• Indeed it would not; reason will forbid it:
• Thy soul’s too noble to oppress with woe
• A life which thou hadst saved; but if thy heart
• Should ever stoop so low, thy virtues still,
• Thy goodness in my memory shall live,
• And only thy unkindness be forgotten.
• I pity, and forgive thee; thou wilt blush
• Hereafter at the thought of injuring me;
• Spite of thy threats, my soul is yet unmoved,
• Nor dreads thy anger, nor defies thy power.

duke.

• Forgive the transports of a mind disturbed,
• The rage of love embittered by despair;
• Lisois, I find, holds secret conference with you,
• Abets you falsehood, and defends your conduct;
• Leans to the royal party, and combines
• In vain with you to make a convert of me:
• It seems I’m to be governed by your will,
• And not my own: your converse is the same,
• The same your purpose; but why use these arms
• Against me? to persuade my easy heart,
• Why must Amelia seek a stranger’s aid?
• A word will win me, if ’tis spoke by love.

amelia.

• My heart, I own, hath opened to thy friend
• Its hopes and fears, but he hath done much more
• Than he had promised: pity then my tears,
• Pity my sorrows, be thyself again;
• Subdue a passion which Amelia must not,
• Cannot return: accept my gratitude,
• ’Tis all I have to give thee.

duke.

• Lisois, then,
• And he alone, enjoys thy confidence,
• Thy friendship, more perhaps; I see it now.

amelia.

• You may perhaps hereafter, but at present
• You have no right, sir, to control my thoughts,
• My actions, or my words; no right to blame me,
• Or to complain: I sought thy friend’s assistance,
• And he has given it me; I wish, my lord,
• That you would learn to act and think like him.

SCENE III.

the duke.

• [Alone.
• ’Tis well: this base, ungrateful, perjured woman,
• Without a blush, confesses all her falsehood;
• The mystery is unfolded now: one friend,
• One only friend, I had, and he destroys me.
• Friendship! vain phantom, unsubstantial shade,
• So often sought for, and so seldom found,
• Thou ever hadst some wholesome draught to pour
• Into my cup of sorrow; but at last
• Thou, too, like love, hast cruelly deceived me!
• For the reward of all my errors past
• I have but this, that no allurements now,
• No flattering pleasures, henceforth shall betray me;
• For from this hour I will be fond—of nothing.
• But lo! the traitor comes with cruel hand
• To tear my wounds, and make them bleed afresh.

SCENE IV.

the duke, lisois.

lisois.

• My lord, I come obedient to thy orders:
• But why that frown, those eyes of discontent
• That scowl upon me? has thy soul, long time
• The sport of passion, weighed in reason’s scale
• Thy interest, and thy happiness?

duke.

• It has.

lisois.

• And what was the result?

duke.

• My eyes are opened
• To falsehood and deceit; I’ve learned to find
• A rival and a traitor in my friend.

lisois.

• How’s that!

duke.

• It is enough.

lisois.

• Too much, my lord:
• Who is the traitor?

duke.

• Canst thou ask me who?
• Who but thyself was privy to the wrongs
• I have received, who else must answer for them?
• I know, Amelia hath conversed with thee
• Here, in the palace; when I mentioned thee
• She trembled: this affected silence speaks
• Your guilt more plainly, and I know not which
• Most to abhor, Amelia, or—my friend.

lisois.

• Canst thou yet listen to that friend?

duke.

• I can.

lisois.

• Thinkest thou I still am anxious for my fame?
• Dost thou esteem, and canst thou yet believe me?

duke.

• I will: for till this hour I thought thee virtuous,
• And held thee for my friend.

lisois.

• Those noble titles
• Have hitherto conducted me through life;
• But wherefore justify myself to thee?
• Thou’st not deserved it: know, Amelia’s charms
• Long since had touched my heart, before thy hand
• Had set her free, and saved her precious life,
• But by the ties of gratitude she’s thine;
• Thou hast deserved her by thy services:
• For me, I’m more the soldier than the soft
• And tender lover; I despise the art
• Of base seduction, fit for courts alone,
• And flattery’s smooth perfidiousness; my soul
• Is made of firmer stuff: I talked indeed
• Of marriage to her; and that sacred tie,
• Knit by esteem and fair equality
• Of fortune and condition, might have made her
• More happy far than rank and titles could,
• That stand upon a dangerous precipice:
• But yesternight, you know, I visited
• Your ramparts, when your jealous soul alarmed
• Discovered all its passion; I observed it:
• To-day I saw the object of your grief,
• Your loved Amelia, and beheld her charms
• With eyes of cold indifference: o’er myself
• I gained an easy conquest: I did more,
• Pleaded for thee, for an ungrateful friend,
• And urged a passion which I can’t approve;
• Recalled the memory of thy bounties past,
• Thy glory and thy rank, acknowledged faults
• I knew you had, and numbered all your virtues;
• All this against myself I did for thee;
• For my friend’s happiness gave up my own:
• And if the sacrifice is still imperfect,
• Show me the rival that still dares to oppose thee,
• And I will stake my life to do thee justice.

duke.

• My friend, thou soarest above me; I am fallen,
• Abashed, confounded: who could see Amelia
• And not adore her? but to conquer thus
• Thy passion! O thou never couldst have loved her.

lisois.

• I did: but love, like other passions, acts
• With different force on different minds.

duke.

• I love
• Too well, my friend, and cannot imitate
• The virtue I admire: my foolish heart—

lisois.

• I ask not for thy praises, but thy love;
• And if thou thinkest that I have merited
• Aught at thy hands, O do but serve thyself,
• Thy happiness is Lisois’ best reward.
• Thou seest with what determined hate thy brother
• Pursues the Moor, I dread the consequence:
• The people groan beneath this foreign yoke,
• Soon, I foresee, the empire will unite
• Their scattered powers, new enemies still rise
• Against us, the pure blood of Clovis still
• Is worshipped by the crowd, and soon or late
• The branches of this sacred tree, that long
• Have bent beneath the storm, again shall rise,
• Spring with fresh verdure, and overshade the land.
• Placed by thy rank and fortunes near the throne,
• Long time thou wert thy king and country’s friend;
• But in the days of public discord, fate
• Attached thee to another cause; perhaps
• New interests now may call for new connections,
• And what united may dissolve the tie;
• The power of these despotic governors
• May be restrained, and weakened by thy hand—

duke.

• I wish it were so; thinkest thou then Amelia
• Would listen to me? if I should embrace
• The royal party, might she still be mine?

lisois.

• I am a stranger to Amelia’s heart;
• But what are her designs, her views to thee?
• Must love alone decide the nation’s fate?
• In Touraine’s field, when gallant Clovis fought,
• And, o’er the haughty conquerors of Rome
• Victorious, stopped the bloody Arian’s hand,
• That dealt destruction round us, did he save
• His country, thinkest thou, but to please a mistress?
• This arm against a rival is prepared
• To serve my friend, but I would serve him more,
• Would cure him of this fond, destructive passion;
• This love deceives us, we’re too fearful of him;
• We wound ourselves, and lay the blame on him;
• The coward’s tyrant, and the hero’s slave;
• He may be conquered; Lisois has subdued him,
• And shall he triumph o’er the blood of kings
• Who never yet submitted to a foe?
• Awake, my friend, and be our great example
• In every virtue.

duke.

• Yes, I will do all,
• All for Amelia; she must yield at last.
• Her laws, her king, her master, shall be mine:
• I have no will but her, and in her eyes
• Will read my duty, and my fate: possessed
• Of the dear treasure, will be reconciled
• To every foe. O how my heart enjoys
• The pleasing hope! I had no cause to fear,
• I have no rival; if thou art not loved,
• I can have none: who in this court would dare
• To cast one look towards Amelia? now
• Her vain pretexts are vanished; reason, glory,
• My interest, and my birth, the sacred right
• Of my great ancestors, all, all unite
• To bind the nuptial chain, and make me happy.
• Henceforth I am the king’s, and will support him
• So virtue bids, and beauty has commanded.
• On this blest day will I confirm the oaths
• I made to love: away, my friend, I leave
• My interest and my fortunes to thy care.

lisois.

• Permit me, then, my lord, to seek the king:
• I could have wished that this important change
• Were to the hero, not the lover due;
• But be it as it may, the effect’s too glorious
• To blame the cause: I triumph in thy weakness,
• And bless for once the lucky power of love.

SCENE V.

the duke, lisois, an officer.

officer.

• My lord, the foe advances; we expect
• A fierce assault, and wait your orders; time
• Is precious.

duke.

• Cruel fate! to counteract
• My noble purpose! then farewell to peace,
• And welcome, victory! I’ll deserve Amelia:
• I heed not these rash fools: of all the foes
• I have to conquer, there’s but one to fear,
• And that’s—Amelia.

End of the Second Act.