Home

ACT III. - The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

Return to Title Page for The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

Also in the Library:

Subject Area: Literature

ACT III. - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems). [1901]

Edition used:

From The Works of Voltaire, A Contemporary Version, (New York: E.R. DuMont, 1901), A Critique and Biography by John Morley, notes by Tobias Smollett, trans. William F. Fleming. Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

Author: Voltaire
Translator: William F. Fleming
Notes: Tobias Smollett

Part of: The Works of Voltaire. A Contemporary Version, in 21 vols.

About Liberty Fund:

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.

Copyright information:

The text is in the public domain.

Fair use statement:

This material is put online to further the educational goals of Liberty Fund, Inc. Unless otherwise stated in the Copyright Information section above, this material may be used freely for educational and academic purposes. It may not be used in any way for profit.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

osman, orasmin.

osman.

Orasmin, ’tis not as thy groundless fears
Suggested to thee; Louis turns no more
His arms against us; his disgusted people
Are wearied with the unsuccessful search
Of climates, which heaven ne’er designed for them:
They will not leave their seats of ease and plenty
To languish in Arabia’s sultry deserts,
And wet our verdant palms in Christian blood:
Their ships are spread indeed o’er Syria’s sea,
And Asia trembles at the sight; but know,
Towards fertile Egypt Louis bends his way,
In search of Melidor, my secret foe:
Their quarrels fix but on a firmer base
The throne of Osman: I have nought to fear
From Egypt or from France; by their division
My power is strengthened: prodigal of blood,
I thank them for it, they destroy each other,
To save my subjects and avenge my cause.
Release those Christians; I would please their master,
And therefore they shall live; let them be sent
To Louis; it may teach him to respect
Our holy faith, and know me for his friend:
Tell him I give him Lusignan, the man
Who claims by birth alliance to his throne,
Whom my brave father twice subdued, and kept
In chains, nor whilst he lived would set him free.

orasmin.

His name so dear to Christians—

osman.

For his name
I heed it not.

orasmin.

O but, my lord, if Louis—

osman.

’Twere needless to dissemble now, Orasmin,
’Tis Zaïre’s will, therefore no more; my heart
Yields to its conqueror, and Lusignan
Is given to her; I had not else released
My pris’ner: Louis is not worth my care;
But I would make atonement for the wrongs
Of injured Zaïre and her Christian friends;
I’ve been too harsh with them: ’tis but an hour
Before our happy nuptials, and meantime
I would oblige my Zaïre; she desires
Some private conference with the brave Nerestan,
That generous Christian—

orasmin.

And have you complied?

osman.

I have, Orasmin: they were slaves together
Even from their childhood, and perhaps may ne’er
Behold each other more; she asks, in short,
Who must not be denied: the rigid laws
Of our seraglio were not made for Zaïre;
I hate its cruel, its severe restraint,
That binds the free-born soul in shameful bonds,
And makes a virtue of necessity.
I am not sprung, thank heaven! of Asian blood,
But, midst the rocks of Tauric Scythia born,
From my forefathers boast a Scythian heart,
Fiery and bold, yet generous and humane:
I would have all partake of Osman’s joy,
And therefore let Nerestan see her: go,
Conduct him to her, he attends without;
Let Zaïre be obeyed.

SCENE II.

orasmin, nerestan.

orasmin.

Please you to rest
A moment here, till Zaïre comes.

SCENE III.

nerestan.

[Alone.
Just heaven!
And must I leave her? cruel fate! to whom,
To what is she reserved? alas! my father,
Religion, virtue—but she’s here.

SCENE IV.

zaïre, nerestan.

nerestan.

My sister,
At length we may converse; but what a time
Hath heaven appointed for our meeting! ne’er
Wilt thou behold thy wretched father more.

zaÏre.

Not Lusignan? O God!

nerestan.

His end is nigh:
His feeble powers, oppressed with sudden joy
At the unexpected sight of his dear children,
Are quite exhausted, and the springs of life
Will soon be motionless; but, O my sister,
Think how the wretched state of his last moments
Will be embittered by his cruel doubts
Concerning thee; uncertain of thy faith
He dies, and asks with his expiring breath
If Zaïre is a Christian.

zaÏre.

Am I not
Thy sister? thinkest thou I will e’er renounce
Thy faith and mine, forgetful of the tie
That binds us?

nerestan.

Yet thou art a stranger to it;
’Tis but the morning of that glorious day
Which must enlighten thee; thou hast not yet
Received the precious pledge, the sacred stream
That copious flows to wash our crimes away:
Swear by our miseries, by our family,
By all those holy martyrs whence we sprung,
Thou wilt this day receive the mystic seal,
The mark distinctive of the living God.

zaÏre.

I swear to thee, by him whom I adore,
That God whose laws unknowing I revere,
Henceforth, Nerestan, to embrace thy faith
And be a Christian: but, O tell me, what
Doth it require of Zaïre?

nerestan.

To detest
Thy tyrant master, and obey the God
Of our forefathers, that benignant power
Who died to save us, who conducted me
To my dear sister, and restored to thee
Our long-lost father; but, alas! Nerestan
Cannot instruct thee, mine’s a soldier’s zeal,
Devoid of knowledge; soon a holy priest
Shall visit thee, and open the fair book
Of wisdom, clear thy mind’s obstructed sight,
And give thee liberty, and life: remember
Thy oath; take heed that baptism lead thee not
To curses and to death: but how, my sister,
Shall I gain leave to bring him to thee? whom
Must I apply to in this vile seraglio?
O heaven! that thus the blood of twenty kings,
The daughter of great Lusignan, that thou,
Nerestan’s sister, and a Christian, thus
Should be the slave of Osman! but, no more;
You understand me, Zaïre: gracious God!
Were we reserved for this at last?

zaÏre.

Go on,
My cruel brother, and pursue thy triumph
O’er Zaïre’s weakness; O thou knowest not yet
Her secret faults, her sorrows, and her crimes:
Pity, Nerestan, an unhappy sister,
Misled, betrayed, and dying with despair:
I am a Christian, and impatient wait
The holy water that must purge my heart,
And wash its stains away: I will not live
Unworthy of my brother, of myself,
Of my great ancestors, of thee, my father,
Afflicted Lusignan! but tell me all,
What will your Christian laws require of Zaïre?
How will they punish an unhappy woman,
Left to repine in sad captivity?
What, if amidst her sorrows she should find
A generous patron in a brave barbarian,
Warmed by his goodness, what if she should feel
A grateful passion, and give up her heart
To him that saved her?

nerestan.

Ha! what sayest thou? rather
Might instant death—

zaÏre.

Strike, and prevent thy shame;
For know—

nerestan.

O heaven! couldst thou, my sister?

zaÏre.

Yes;
I stand condemned, I am my own accuser:
Osman adores me, and I meant to wed him.

nerestan.

To wed him? to wed Osman? can it be?
Couldst thou, descended from a race of kings,
Couldst thou, my sister?

zaÏre.

Strike; for know, I love him.

nerestan.

Shame as thou art to our untainted blood,
Now, did I listen to the voice of honor,
Did not the law of that all-saving God
Whom yet thou knowest not, did not my religion
Withhold my arm, this moment would I rush
Into the palace, and there sacrifice
This vile barbarian, this imperious lover;
Would plunge the dagger in thy guilty breast,
Then turn it on my own: O infamy!
Whilst Louis, the world’s bright example, bears
His conquering legions to the affrighted Nile,
But to return on wings of victory
To free thy captive God, and give him back
His native walls, meantime Nerestan’s sister
Renounces all, and weds an infidel:
And must I tell the good old man, his daughter
Hath chosen a Tartar for her God? alas!
Ev’n now thy dying father kneels to heaven
For Zaïre’s happiness.

zaÏre.

O stay, my brother,
Perhaps thy Zaïre still deserves thy love;
Thou dost not know me; spare thy keen reproaches,
For, O, thy cruel scorn, thy bitter wrath,
Is worse to me even than the death I asked,
Which yet thou hast refused me: O Nerestan,
I know thou art oppressed, I know thou sufferest
For my misfortunes; but I suffer more:
Would that kind heaven had taken my wretched life,
Before this heart glowed with a guilty flame
For Osman! and yet, who that knew his virtues
Would not have loved him! he did all for me;
His generous heart from crowds of fond admirers
Selected Zaïre; she alone subdued
His fiery soul, and softened his resentment:
He hath revived the Christian’s hope; to him
I owe the dear delight of seeing thee,
My brother: O Nerestan, thou shouldst pardon,
Indeed thou shouldst, for I am truly wretched:
My oath, my duty, my remorse, my father,
My fatal passion, and thy cruel anger,
Are punishment enough: repentance fills
All Zaïre’s soul, and leaves no room for love.

nerestan.

I blame, yet pity thee: kind heaven, I trust,
Will never let thee perish in thy sins;
The arm of God, that makes the weakest strong,
Will cherish and support a tender flower
That bends beneath the fury of the storm:
He will not suffer thy divided heart
To fluctuate thus ’twixt Him and a barbarian;
Baptism will quench the guilty flame, and Zaïre
In the true faith shall live a pious Christian,
Or die a martyr: promise then thy father,
Promise thy king, thy country, and that God
Whose powerful voice thou hast already heard,
Thou wilt not think of these detested nuptials
Before the priest hath opened thy dark mind,
And, in Nerestan’s sight, pronounced thee Christian:
Say, wilt thou promise, Zaïre?

zaÏre.

Yes; I promise:
Make me a Christian, make me free; do what
Thou wilt with Zaïre: but haste, close the eyes
Of my dear father: would I could go with thee,
And die before him!

nerestan.

Sister, fare thee well!
Since I must leave thee in this hated palace,
Farewell! remember, I shall soon return
To save thee from perdition, from thyself,
And from the powers of hell, by holy baptism.

SCENE V.

zaÏre.

[Alone.
I am alone: now hear me, gracious heaven!
For what am I reserved? O God, command
This rebel heart not to relinquish thee!
Am I the daughter of great Lusignan,
Or Osman’s wife; a lover, or a Christian?
Ye sacred oaths, my father, and my country,
All shall be heard, all shall be satisfied!
But where’s my friend? where is my Fatima?
In this distressful hour the world forsakes me:
Deserted, and forlorn, how shall I bear
The galling weight of these discordant duties!
O God! I will be thine, and thine alone;
But, O! preserve me from the sight of Osman,
The dear, the generous Osman! did I think
This morn, that ere the day was past, my heart
Should dread to see him; I whose every hope
And joy, and happiness, on him alone
Depended? O! I had no other care,
No pleasure, but to listen to his love;
To wish, and wait for, and adore my Osman!
And now it is a crime to think of him.

SCENE VI.

zaïre, osman.

osman.

Come forth, my love! for my impatient soul
Is on the wing, and will not brook delay!
The torch of Hymen casts its sacred light
On happy Osman, and the perfumed mosque
Invites us; Mahomet’s all-powerful God
Propitious hears and answers to our vows;
My people on their knees, in fervent prayer,
United sue for Zaïre’s happiness;
Whilst thy proud rivals, who disputed long
My heart with thee, at length confess thy power,
Pleased to submit, and happy to obey:
The rites attend thee, and the throne’s prepared;
Haste then, my love, and make thy Osman happy.

zaÏre.

O grief! O love! O wretched Zaïre!

osman.

Haste.

zaÏre.

O hide me!

osman.

Ha! what sayest thou?

zaÏre.

O my lord—

osman.

Give me thy hand, come, beauteous Zaïre, deign—

zaÏre.

What can I say to him? assist me, heaven!

osman.

O! I must triumph o’er this tender weakness,
This sweet embarrassment; it makes me love thee
With double ardor.

zaÏre.

osman.

Those sighs, my Zaïre,
Endear thee more to Osman; ’tis the mark
Of modest virtue thus to shrink from love;
But haste, my charmer, and repay my fondness,
My constancy—

zaÏre.

O Fatima, support me!
My lord—

osman.

Well, what? O heaven!

zaire.

That heaven’s my witness,
All Zaire’s hopes of happiness were placed
On thee; my soul desired to call thee mine:
Not that I sought the splendor of a throne;
Thoughts distant far and nobler filled my breast:
I could have wish, to thee and to thy virtues
United, to have lived in solitude,
With thee despised the pomp of Asia’s pride,
And spurned her crowns and sceptres at my feet:
But O! my lord, these Christians—

osman.

What have they
To do with Osman, or with Osman’s love?

zaÏre.

Old Lusignan, oppressed with age and sorrow,
Now touches his last moments.

osman.

Be it so;
What is that Christian slave to thee, or why
Feelest thou for him? thou art not of his faith,
But from thy infant years hast followed mine,
And worshipped Osman’s God; shall Zaïre weep
Because an old man pays the debt of nature?
At such a time as this shall Zaïre mourn?
Should she not rather centre all her cares
In Osman now, and think of naught but love?

zaÏre.

If ever I was dear to thee—

osman.

If ever!
O God!

zaÏre.

Defer, my lord, a little while
Our nuptials, let me—

osman.

Ha! what sayest thou? heaven!
Can Zaïre speak thus?

zaÏre.

O I cannot bear
His anger.

osman.

Zaïre!

zaÏre.

O forgive, my lord,
These sighs! alas, I have forgot myself,
Forgot my duty, all I owe to thee:
I cannot bear that look—permit me, sir,
But for a moment to retire, to hide
My tears, my grief, my love, and my despair.
[She goes out.

SCENE VII.

osman, orasmin.

osman.

Amazement! dumb and motionless I stand
With horror: did I hear aright, Orasmin,
Was it to me that Zaïre spoke, to Osman?
Does she avoid me; fly from me? O heaven!
What have I seen, and whence this wondrous change?
She’s gone, she’s lost; I know not who I am,
Or what, or where.

orasmin.

You are yourself the cause
Of your complaint, and but accuse a heart
Where you and you alone in triumph reign.

osman.

But why those sighs, those tears, that sudden flight!
Whence that deep sorrow, in her downcast eyes
So plainly written? O if that wily Frenchman—
Horrible thought! how dreadfully the light
Breaks in upon me! ’tis impossible;
A vile barbarian; O, it cannot be
Orasmin; thinkest thou that the heart of Osman
Will e’er descend to fear a Christian slave?
But tell me, thou perhaps couldst mark her features,
And understand the language of her eye;
Am I betrayed? nay, do not hide thy thoughts,
But let me know my misery: ha! thou tremblest;
It is enough.

orasmin.

I would not rive thy heart
With fond suspicions: I beheld her weep,
But nothing more; saw naught that could alarm—

osman.

Was I reserved to bear an injury
Like this? had Zaïre meant to play me false,
She would have done it with more art; would ne’er
Have openly avowed her treacherous purpose:
O no; she must be innocent; but tell me,
This Frenchman—he, thou sayest too sighed and wept;
And what of that! he might not sigh for her;
It was not love perhaps that made him weep;
Or if it was, why should I fear a slave,
One who to-morrow parts from her forever?

orasmin.

Against our laws, my lord, you gave him leave
To see her twice; he came.

osman.

The traitor! yes,
I know he did; but if again he dares
To visit her, I’ll tear the slave to pieces,
And mix his life-blood with the faithless Zaire’s.
Pardon, my friend, the transports of a heart
So deeply pierced; it is by nature warm,
And has been wounded in the tenderest part:
I know my rage, Orasmin, and my weakness,
Know ’tis beneath me to be thus disturbed;
But Zaïre—O I cannot, will not think it:
Her heart could ne’er be guilty of such baseness,
It was not made for falsehood; nor shall Osman
Stoop to complaint or mean submission; no:
It were unworthy of a king to wait
For explanations of this strange conduct:
I will resume that empire o’er my heart
Which I had lost, forget the very name
Of Zaïre: yes; henceforth let my seraglio
Be shut forever, fear and terror reign
Within my palace; let despotic power
Rule unreluctant o’er a race of slaves!
Osman henceforth shall be an eastern king,
And reign like them: perhaps we may forget
Our rank a while, and cast an eye of favor
Upon our vassals; but to stand in awe
Of a proud mistress, is most shameful; no:
To western climes we leave such fond submission
The dangerous sex, ambitious to enslave
Our easy hearts, and bend them to their will,
In Europe rule, but here they must obey.

End of the Third Act.

Home

The Forum

Econlib

The Library

Other Sites

The Library

Return to Title Page for The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

Search this Title:

Also in the Library:

ACT III. - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems). [1901]

Edition used:

Part of: The Works of Voltaire. A Contemporary Version, in 21 vols.

About Liberty Fund:

Copyright information:

Fair use statement:

ACT III.

SCENE I.

osman.

orasmin.

osman.

orasmin.

osman.

orasmin.

osman.

SCENE II.

orasmin.

SCENE III.

nerestan.

SCENE IV.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

zaÏre.

nerestan.

SCENE V.

zaÏre.

SCENE VI.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaire.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

osman.

zaÏre.

SCENE VII.

osman.

orasmin.