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• The Works of Voltaire
• The Dramatic Works of Voltaire Vol. X— Part I
• ZaÏre
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• An Epistle Dedicatory to Mr. Falkener, an English Merchant, Since Ambassador At Constantinople, With the Tragedy of Zaïre.
• A Second Letter to Mr. Falkener, Then Ambassador to Constantinople.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• CÆsar.
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• The Prodigal
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• Preface to Mariamne.
• Preface to Orestes.
• Preface to Catiline.
• Preface to MÉrope.
• Preface to the Prodigal.
• Preface to Nanine.
• 1 Preface to Socrates.
• Note On Mahomet.
• Preface to Julius CÆsar.
• Voltaire the Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems Vol. X— Part Ii
• Author’s Preface to the Lisbon Earthquake.
• The Lisbon Earthquake. *
• Preface to the Poem On the Law of Nature.
• The Law of Nature.
• The Temple of Taste. *
• The Temple of Friendship.
• Thoughts On the Newtonian Philosophy, Addressed to the Marchioness Du ChÂtelet.
• On the Death of Adrienne Lecouvreur, a Celebrated Actress.
• To the King of Prussia On His Accession to the Throne.
• From Love to Friendship.
• The Worldling. *
• On Calumny.
• The King of Prussia to M. Voltaire.
• The Answer.
• On the English Genius.
• What Pleases the Ladies.
• The Education of a Prince.
• The Education of a Daughter.
• The Three Manners.
• Thelema and Macareus.
• Azolan.
• The Origin of Trades.
• The Battle of Fontenoy.
• The Man of the World. *
• The Padlock. *
• In Camp Before Philippsburg, July 3, 1734.
• Answer to a Lady, Or a Person Who Wrote to Voltaire As Such. *
• Envy.
• The Nature of Virtue.
• To the King of Prussia.
• To M. De Fontenelle.
• To Count Algarotti At the Court of Saxony.
• To Cardinal Quirini.
• To Her Royal Highness, the Princess of ***.
• To M. De Cideville.
• To ****.
• Epistle XIII. *
• To the Duke of Richelieu, Marshal of France, In Whose Honor the Senate of Genoa Had Just Before Caused a Statue to Be Erected. *
• To Madam De ***, On the Manner of Living At Paris and Versailles.
• To the Prince of Vendôme.
• To Madam De Gondoin, Afterward Countess of Toulouse, On the Danger She Had Been Exposed to In Passing the Loire In 1719.
• To the Duke Delafeuillade.
• To Marshal Villars. *
• To Monsieur Genonville.
• To the Countess of Fontaine-martel. *
• Written From PlombiÉres to M. Pallu, Intendant of Lyons.
• The Nature of Pleasure.
• The Utility of Sciences to Princes. to the Prince Royal of Prussia, Since King of Prussia.
• Epistle In Answer to a Letter, With Which, Upon His Accession to the Throne, the King of Prussia Honored the Author.
• Epistle to the King, Presented to His Majesty At the Camp Before Freiburg.
• On the Death of the Emperor Charles.
• To the Queen of Hungary.
• Inscribed to the Gentlemen of the Academy of Sciences, Who Sailed to the Polar Circle and the Equator, In Order to Ascertain the Figure of the Earth.
• To M. De Gervasi, the Physician. *
• The Requisites to Happiness.
• To a Lady, Very Well Known to the Whole Town.
• Fanaticism. *
• On Peace Concluded In 1736.
• To AbbÉ Chaulieu. *
• Answer to the Foregoing.
• To President HÉnault, Author of an Excellent Work Upon the History of France.
• Canto of an Epic Poem. *
• Epistle On the Newtonian Philosophy. * to the Marchioness of ChÂtelet.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

mme. de croupillac, young euphemon, jasmin.

mme. de croupillac.

I have taken care, my friend, by way of precaution, to bring two sergeants from Angoulême; have you performed your part as well, and done as I desired you? Shall you be able, think you, to put on an air of consequence, and sow a little dissension in the family? Have you flattered the old gentleman? Have you looked forward a little?

euphemon.

No.

mme. de croupillac.

How?

euphemon.

Believe me, madam, I long to throw myself at her feet.

mme. de croupillac.

Pray then make haste and do it; begin your attack as soon as possible, and restore my ungrateful seducer. I’ll go to law for you, and you shall make love for me: cheer up, man, put on your best looks; assume that air of importance and self-sufficiency, which is sure to conquer every heart, which baffles wit, and triumphs over wisdom: to be happy in love, you must be bold; resume your wonted courage.

euphemon.

O I have lost it all.

mme. de croupillac.

How so, man? what’s the matter?

euphemon.

I had courage enough when I was not in love; but at present—

jasmin.

There may be other reasons why he should be rather bashful; this Fierenfat, you must know, is our lord and master, and has taken us both into his service.

mme. de croupillac.

So much the better; a lucky circumstance: to be a domestic in your mistress’ family, let me tell you, is a singular happiness: make your advantage of it.

jasmin.

Yonder’s something pretty, and coming this way, too, to take the air, I suppose: she seems to come out of Rondon’s house.

mme. de croupillac.

’Tis she: come, my dear lover, make haste, now’s your time: pluck up your courage, and speak to her: what! sighing and trembling, and pretend to love her, too? O, fie, fie!

euphemon.

O if you knew the situation of my heart, you would not wonder at my trembling and confusion!

jasmin.

[Seeing Lise at a distance.

Sweet creature! how beautiful she looks!

euphemon.

’Tis she: O heaven! I die with love, with remorse, with jealousy, and despair.

mme. de croupillac.

Adieu: I will endeavor to return the obligation.

euphemon.

All I ask of you is, if possible, to put off this cruel marriage.

mme. de croupillac.

That’s what I shall immediately set about.

euphemon.

Alas! I tremble.

jasmin.

We must try to get her by herself; let us retire a little.

euphemon.

I’ll follow you: I scarce know what I have done, or what I am going to do. I shall never be able to face her.

SCENE II.

lise, martha, jasmin,at the farther end of the stage, andyoung euphemonbehind him.

lise.

In vain do I go in and out, backwards, and forwards, endeavoring, if possible, to hide myself from myself; in vain do I seek for solitude, and examine my own heart: alas! the more I look into it, the more am I convinced that happiness was never made for me. If I do at any time enjoy a momentary comfort, it is from that old ridiculous creature Croupillac, and the thought of her preventing this detested match; but then all my apprehensions return, when Fierenfat and my father urge it upon me with repeated importunities: they have gained over the good Euphemon.

martha.

In troth, the old man is too good-natured, and Fierenfat governs him most tyrannically.

lise.

I pardon him, he’s fond of an only child; his elder, poor man, gave him a great deal of uneasiness, and now he relies entirely upon the other.

martha.

But after all, madam, notwithstanding everything that has been reported, it is not clear that the other is yet dead.

lise.

Alas! if dead, I must lament; if living, I must hate him: cruel alternatives!

martha.

The news of his danger, however, seemed to have a powerful effect upon you.

lise.

One might be sorry for his misfortunes without loving him, you know.

martha.

But one may as well be dead as not be loved: and so you are really to be married to his brother?

lise.

My dear child, I am distracted at the thought of it: you have long known my indifference for Fierenfat; it is now changed to horror and detestation: marriage with him is a potion most dreadfully bitter, which, in my present desperate case, I must swallow much against my will, I assure you; though my hand, at the same time, rejects it with horror and indignation.

jasmin.

[Pulling Martha by the sleeve.

Hark’ee, fair lady, will you give me leave to whisper a word or two in your ear?

martha.

[To Jasmin.

Most willingly, sir.

lise.

[Aside.

O cruel fate! why didst thou prolong a life, which an ungrateful, guilty lover has made so truly miserable?

martha.

[To Lise.

One of the President’s servants, madam, but just now hired to him: he says, he should be glad to speak to you.

lise.

Let him wait.

martha.

[To Jasmin.

Friend, my lady desires you would wait a little.

lise.

Always teasing me thus! even when he is absent I can have no peace for him. O dear! how weary am I of this marriage already!

jasmin.

[To Martha.

My dear girl, procure us this favor, if you can.

martha.

[Coming back.

Madam, he says he must speak with you.

lise.

So! I see I must go.

martha.

There is a person, it seems, who is very desirous of seeing you; he must speak to you, he says, or die.

lise.

I find I must go in and hide myself.

SCENE III.

lise, martha, young euphemonleaning onjasmin.

euphemon.

I can neither walk nor speak; my sight, too, fails me.

jasmin.

Give me your hand; we’ll cross her as she comes.

euphemon.

O I feel a deadly coldness at my heart [to Lise] will you permit—

lise.

[Without looking at him.

What would you, sir?

euphemon.

[Throwing himself on his knees.

What would I? that death which I deserve.

lise.

What do I see? O heaven!

martha.

Amazing! Euphemon! good God, how changed!

euphemon.

Changed indeed: yes, Lise, you are avenged of me. Well may you wonder, for I am changed in everything: no longer do you behold in me that madman, that false wretch, so feared and detested here; he who betrayed the cause of nature and of love: young and thoughtless as I was, I fell a prey to every passion, and adopted every vice from my loose companions: but O the worst of all my crimes, which never can be blotted out, never atoned for, was my offending you: but here I swear, by thee, and by that virtue, which, though I have forsaken, I yet adore, I have found my error. Vice, though I admitted it, was a stranger to this heart, which is now no longer stained with those guilty blemishes that obscured its native lustre; that pure, that sacred passion, which is still reserved for you, hath refined it; that tender passion, and that alone, brought me hither, not to break off your new engagements, or oppose your happiness, that would ill become a poor abandoned wretch like me: but since the misfortunes, which I so well deserved, have brought me, even in the prime of life, to the brink of the grave, I could not help seeking you, to be a witness of my last moments; and happy, thrice happy shall I be, if he, who was once destined to be your husband, at length shall die, and not be hated by you.

lise.

I am scarce myself: can it be Euphemon? can it be you? O heaven! in what a condition too, and what a time is this: wretch as thou art, what cruel injuries hast thou done to both of us!

euphemon.

I know it: at sight of thee, every folly I have been guilty of appears doubly inexcusable: they were dreadful, and you know they were, that is some punishment, but not so much as I deserve.

lise.

And is it true, unhappy man, that thou hast at last repented of thy follies; that your rebellious heart is at length subdued, and misfortune hath pointed out to you the road of virtue?

euphemon.

Alas! what will it avail, that my eyes are opened, when it is too late! In vain is that heart subdued, in vain is my return to virtue, since I have lost in you its best, its only valuable reward.

lise.

Yet, answer me, Euphemon; may I believe you have indeed gained this glorious victory? consult your own breast, and do not again deceive me: can you yet be prudent and virtuous?

euphemon.

I am so; for still my heart adores you.

lise.

And dost thou still love, Euphemon?

euphemon.

Do I love? by that I live, that alone has supported me. I have borne everything, even infamy itself; and a thousand times I would have put an end to my wretched life, but that still I loved it, because it belonged to you: yes, to you I owe my present sentiments, my being, and that new life which now dawns upon me: to you I owe the return of my reason: with love like mine, would to heaven I may be able to preserve it! O do not hide from me that charming face: look at me: see how changed I am: see the cruel effect of care and sorrow: the roses of youth are withered by remorse and misery: there was a time when Euphemon would not thus have affrighted you: do but look on me, ’tis all I ask.

lise.

If I see the thinking, the reformed, the constant Euphemon, it is enough: in my eyes he is but too amiable.

euphemon.

What says my Lise? gracious heaven! she weeps.

lise.

[To Martha.

O support me, my senses fail. Can I ever be the wife of Euphemon’s brother?

[Turning to Euphemon.

But tell me, have you yet seen your father?

euphemon.

O I blush to appear before that good old man, whom I have so dishonored: hated as I am, and banished from his presence, I love and reverence, but dare not look upon him.

lise.

What then is your design?

euphemon.

If heaven should graciously prolong my days, if you must be my brother’s happy lot, I propose to change my name and profession, serve as a soldier, and seek for death in the field of honor; perhaps success in arms may acquire me some glory, and even you may hereafter shed a tear over the unhappy Euphemon. My honor at least will never suffer by the employment; Rose and Fabert set out as I shall do.

lise.

’Tis a noble resolution; and the heart that was capable of making it must be above guilt and meanness: sentiments like these affect me much more even than the tears you shed at my feet. No, Euphemon, if I am left at liberty to dispose of myself, and can possibly avoid a hateful match proposed for me, if it is in my power to determine your fate, you shall not go so far to change your condition.

euphemon.

O heaven! and does thy generous heart melt at my misfortunes?

lise.

They affect me most deeply: but your repentance hath secured me.

euphemon.

And will those dear eyes, that looked on me so long with indignation, will they soften into love and tenderness? O thou hast revived a flame in the breast of Euphemon, which his follies had almost extinguished. Fond as my brother is of riches, though my father has given him all that inheritance which nature had designed for me, he still must envy my happiness. I am dear to you; he alone, and not Euphemon, is disinherited. O I shall die with joy.

martha.

Deuce on him, here he comes.

lise.

Be upon your guard, Euphemon; keep in those struggling sighs, and dissemble.

euphemon.

Why should I, if you love me?

lise.

Consider my relations, consider your own father. Your brother saw us together, saw you at my feet; and all that we can now do is, not to let him know who you are.

martha.

I can’t help laughing, to think what a passion his gravity will be in.

SCENE IV.

lise, martha, jasmin, fierenfat,at the farther end of the stage,young euphemonturning his back to him.

fierenfat.

Either some devil has impaired these eyes of mine; or, if I see clear, I most certainly beheld—O yes—it is so—it’s all over with me.

[Coming forward towards Euphemon.

O it is you, sir, is it? traitor, rascal, forger.

euphemon.

[Enraged.

I, I could—

jasmin.

[Placing himself between them.

Sir, sir, this—this is an affair of importance that was going forward, and you interrupt it, sir; an affair of love, sir, tenderness, respect, gratitude, and virtue—for my part I’m distracted when I think of it.

fierenfat.

An affair of virtue! O yes, and kissing her hand, too! call you that virtue? rascal, slave.

euphemon.

O Jasmin, if I dared—

fierenfat.

No: this is a gallant indeed with a witness: had he been a gentleman, but a servant, a beggar—if I was to sue him in a court of justice, it would be only so much money flung away.

lise.

[To Euphemon.

Be calm; if you have any regard for me, I beg you will.

fierenfat.

The traitor! I’ll have you hanged, you dog.

[To Martha.

You laugh, mistress.

martha.

I do, to be sure, sir.

fierenfat.

And why do you? what do you laugh at?

martha.

Lord, sir, ’tis such a comical affair.

fierenfat.

You don’t know, madam, the danger you are in: you little think, my good friend, what the law inflicts on such delinquents as you, and how often you may be—

martha.

Pardon me, sir, I know it mighty well.

fierenfat.

[To Lise.

You, madam, seem to be deaf to all this, faithless woman! with that air of innocence, too, to play me such a trick: your inconstancy is a little premature on our very wedding-day, and just before we are married: ’tis a wonderful mark of your chastity.

lise.

Don’t be in a passion, sir, nor lightly condemn innocence on bare appearances only.

fierenfat.

Innocence indeed!

lise.

Yes, sir: when you know my sentiments, you will esteem me for them.

fierenfat.

You go an excellent way to gain esteem.

euphemon.

This is too much.

lise.

[To Euphemon.

What madness! for heaven’s sake be calm, restrain—

euphemon.

No: I will never suffer him to cast reproach on you.

fierenfat.

Do you know, madam, that you lose your jointure, your estate, your portion, everything, as soon as—

euphemon.

[In a passion and putting his hand on his sword.

Do you know, sir, how to hold your tongue?

lise.

O forbear.

euphemon.

Come, come, Mr. President, lay aside your assuming airs, be a little less fierce, and haughty: a little less of the judge, if you please: this lady has not yet the honor to be your wife, nor is she even your mistress, sir: what right have you then to complain? your claim is void: you should have known how to please, before you had a right to be angry: such charms were never made for you, and therefore jealousy sits but ill upon you. You see she’s kind, and forgives my warmth; it will become you, sir, to follow her example.

fierenfat.

[In a posture of defence.

I’ll bear no more: where are my servants? help here.

euphemon.

How’s this!

fierenfat.

Fetch me a constable here.

lise.

[To Euphemon.

Retire, I beseech you.

fierenfat.

I’ll make you know, sir, the respect that’s due to my rank and profession.

euphemon.

Observe, sir, what you owe to this lady: as to myself, however things may now appear, the respect perhaps is due to me.

fierenfat.

You, sir, you?

euphemon.

Yes, sir, me, me.

fierenfat.

This is a pure impudent fellow: some lover, I suppose, in the disguise of a servant. Who are you, sir? answer me.

euphemon.

I know not who I am, nor what will be my fate: my rank, condition, fortune, happiness, my very being, all depend on her heart, her kind looks, and her propitious bounty.

fierenfat.

They may soon depend upon a court of justice, that I assure you. I’ll go this instant, prepare my records, and hasten to sign the instrument. Begone, ungrateful woman, and dread my resentment; I’ll bring your relatives, and your father; then your innocence will appear in its proper light, and they will esteem you accordingly.

SCENE V.

lise, young euphemon, martha.

lise.

For heaven’s sake, conceal yourself; let us go in immediately; I tremble at the consequence of this. If your father should find out it was you, nothing will appease him: he will conclude that some new extravagance brought you back here on purpose to insult him, and to sow division between our families; and then you will be confined perhaps, even without being so much as heard in your own defence.

martha.

Let me conceal him, and I’ll warrant they shan’t easily find him out.

lise.

Come, come, you must away; I must endeavor to reconcile your father: the return of nature shall, if possible, be the work of love: you must be concealed awhile—take you care [to Martha] he does not appear: begone immediately.

SCENE VI.

rondon, lise.

rondon.

Well, my Lise, how is it? I was in search of you and your husband.

lise.

[Aside.

Thank God! he is not so yet.

rondon.

Where are you going?

lise.

Decency, sir, at present obliges me to avoid him.

[She goes out.

rondon.

This President is a dangerous man, I find: now should I like to be incog. in some place close to them, only to see how two lovers look when they are just going to be married.

SCENE VII.

fierenfat, rondon,Constables, etc.

fierenfat.

Where are they, where are they? ha! gone; the subtle villains have escaped me: where have the rascals hid themselves?

rondon.

Your reverence seems out of breath? what are you in such a hurry about? whom are you hunting after? what have they done to you?

fierenfat.

Made a cuckold of me, that’s all.

rondon.

Ha! ha! a cuckold! ha! how! what is all this?

fierenfat.

Yes, yes, my wife, heaven preserve me from ever giving her that name! Yes, sir, a cuckold I am, in spite of all the laws in the kingdom.

rondon.

My son-in-law!

fierenfat.

Yes, my father-in-law, ’tis but too true.

rondon.

Well, but the affair—

fierenfat.

Is as clear as possible.

rondon.

You try my patience too far.

fierenfat.

I’m sure they have mine.

rondon.

If I could believe—

fierenfat.

You may believe it all, sir, I assure you.

rondon.

But the more I hear, the less I understand.

fierenfat.

And yet it’s very easy to comprehend.

rondon.

If I were once convinced of it, the world should be a witness of my resentment, I would strangle her with my own hands.

fierenfat.

Strangle her then by all means, for the thing is fairly proved.

rondon.

Something no doubt is wrong, by my finding her here in that condition; she hung down her head, and could scarce speak to me; seemed frightened, and embarrassed too. Come, my son, let us in, and surprise her. This is a case of honor, and where that is concerned, Rondon listens no longer to reason. Away.

End of the Fourth Act.