University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE SECOND.

Polydore, Ægisthus.
Pol.
It seems that Merope is somewhat calm'd,
Waiting the tyrant's coming: to that tomb
Meanwhile I will repair ...

Ægis.
What voice is that?

Pol.
There offer up my vows ...

Ægis.
Heavens! Is it true?
Do I behold that venerable man? ...

Pol.
There shed some pious tears ...

Ægis.
I'm not deceived;
His snowy locks, his gait, the self-same garb ...
Turn this way, good old man ...

Pol.
Who calls me thus?

Ægis.
Ah father ...

Pol.
Whom do I see? Oh heaven! Thou here?
Thou living? Where then am I doom'd to find thee!
Ah! hide thyself. I tremble ... Wretched youth! ...
Thou art undone.

Ægis.
Ah! suffer first that I
A thousand times enfold thee to my bosom.
Doubtless for me, oh father, thou hast placed
Thy feet within Messene, where thou hast
So many foes; dar'st thou for me incur
So great a risk? ... Oh heaven! an impious son
Am I; I merit not such proofs of love:
Too much I err'd in leaving thee.

Pol.
Alas!
... Choak'd by my tears ... I cannot ... speak ... to thee ...
Ah, hide thyself ... Fly hence ... Thou art ... Thy risk
Is imminent ... How cam'st thou in Messene? ...
How in this palace? ...

Ægis.
In a luckless hour
Thou findest me, oh father: in these walls
I am a prisoner ... How my heart is rent
In being forced now to confess to thee,
That on the very verge perchance I stand
Of being sentenced as a homicide
To ignominious punishment. Perchance,
I yet may be absolved, for innocent
I am, although indeed a homicide ...
Ah! what a son hast thou regain'd in me!

Pol.
Oh unexpected destiny! Didst thou
Then kill the stranger on the river's brink? ...

Ægis.
I kill'd him, yes; but in my own defence.

Pol.
Oh fatal blow! ... Oh my paternal cares! ...
Ah, tell me; ... See if any one can hear us.

Ægis.
As far as I can see, no one is near:
That passage, which leads hither from the palace,
With guards is crowded; but they are remote;
They cannot hear us. But what would'st thou say,
Oh father, that I do not know already?
Behold me, prostrate at thy feet I fall:
Ah! long ere this, repentant in my heart,
I've wept, and weep again, that I have giv'n thee
Such mortal anguish. I know all already.
What do I not deserve? How could I quit
A father so indulgent and so tender? ...
Ah! if I e'er return to see again
Our dear domestic hearth, never, oh never,
Will I, I swear to thee, one step depart
From thy protecting presence ... My loved mother,
With her how fares it, say? ... Weeps she for me? ...
I seem to hear and see her; ... and I weep ...

Pol.
Oh son! ... compel me not to shed these tears! ...
This is no time for it ... I would ...

Ægis.
Reflect:
If any one here saw thee? Thou must be
To many here well known ... If recognized ...
For thee alone I tremble ... To what risk
Have I exposed thee! ... Ah! retire with me
Where I in weeping pass'd this tedious night;
There let me hide thee till the close of day.
Ah! if the tyrant should discover thee! ...
And at the same time if he should find out
That I am thy son! ... Come: yet I feel some hope:
For Polyphontes is not now possess'd
With rage intractable; and in my cause
I found e'en Merope inclined to mercy:
Hence I am justified in hoping yet
Pardon for my involuntary crime.

Pol.
Oh Heaven! ... Did Merope herself ... To thee ...—
—It now behoves me that I speak to him
Briefly, but fully ... Ah! ... What can I do? ...
What say to him? ... And what conceal from him? ...
Withdraw thyself at least for a short time.

Ægis.
Fruitless were the attempt; I should be sought for;
I was commanded to wait here. But why
Conceal myself? ...

Pol.
Thou never didst incur
Danger more imminent; nor I e'er felt
Such mortal anguish. Merope herself
Has sworn thy death: and Polyphontes here
Amid his minions comes with Merope.
Herself would be thy executioner;
For the assassin of her only son
Merope deems thee.

Ægis.
What have I then done?
A son remain'd to her, a son, and I
Have robb'd her of him?—Ah! come here, come here,
Disconsolate mother; thy just wrath appease
In this perfidious heart. What punishment,
What death, what infamy, deserve I not?

Pol.
But, ... thou ... art not ... the murderer ... of her son.

Ægis.
Then?

Pol.
Thou art not.

Ægis.
But what does this avail?
She thinks me so: she is a childless mother,
Of her last hope bereft: 'twill be a solace
To her distress to sacrifice my life;
Then let her come ...

Pol.
Ah no! ... She of her son
Is not bereft.

Ægis.
But he, that I destroy'd ...—
At all risks I will see her; hear her ...

Pol.
Fly ...

Ægis.
I will not, nor can I ...

Pol.
Or at least ...

Ægis.
But if I am not then ...

Pol.
Thou art ... that son
Whom she laments as dead.

Ægis.
I! what say'st thou? ...
I am? ... Thou not my father? ... Am I then
Sprung from Alcides' blood?

Pol.
Oh Heaven! ... be silent;
Though not my son, to me thou'rt more than son.
I rescued thee from hence; I brought thee up
Under the feign'd name of Ægisthus; I
Preserved thee, wretched that I am, perchance
For a more cruel fate.

Ægis.
Oh mystery,
Evermore, hitherto, to me profound
And unintelligible! For Merope,
Whene'er I saw her, in myself I felt
I know not what of indefinable,
Confused, and unimaginable love;
And at the same time felt towards Polyphontes
More indignation and antipathy
Than ever yet mere tyranny excited.
Yes, now I recollect, now I behold,
Now comprehend it all. Thy name is not
Cephisus.

Pol.
It is Polydore. At once
My name and rank I hid from thee. I fear'd
The indiscretion of thy youth: but how
Could any one foresee? ... Meanwhile, oh heaven!
The hour passes, and ere long ... Ah! if I could
Give Merope a timely warning ...

Ægis.
Heaven,
Which o'er my life hath hitherto alone
Seem'd to preside; that Heaven which rescued me,
An infant, from the vigilant revenge
Of a blood-thirsty tyrant; Heaven which lent
The heart of youth to thy old age, the strength,
The enterprize, the courage; shall it be
That Heaven now leaves me by the very hands
Of my own mother to be sacrificed?—
Shall I, who am the offspring of Alcides,
If there be one who with a sword will arm
This strong right hand, shall I permit myself
To be demolished by an abject tyrant?

Pol.
Young man, thou seest nothing but thy valour;
But I behold thy danger. To deceive
Merope more completely, and abate
The general hatred, crafty Polyphontes
Now feigns a pity for that very son,
Whom, having in his power, he would slay.
But if the impious usurper sees him
Restored to life, he will at once resume
His bloody and ferocious character;
And thou wilt fall his victim. Ah! beware;
I fly to intercept thy mother's steps:
Perhaps yet I may be able ... Ah! if I
Arrived in time! ...

Ægis.
Methinks that I behold
Soldiers advancing hitherward ...

Pol.
Alas!
With Polyphontes Merope approaches ...

Ægis.
And after them a train of armed men ...

Pol.
What shall I do? ... Stand at my side, oh son! ...
I swear at least to die in thy defence.