University of Virginia Library

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE THE FIRST.

Ægisthus.
Ægis.
The king commands that I await him here?
My fate is then irrevocably seal'd:
Whate'er it be, I fearlessly expect it.
My only consolation is to know
That I am innocent. Yet evermore
(If haply longer life be spared to me)
'Twill be to me in all vicissitudes
Haunted by bitter thoughts; eternally
That murdered man will flit before mine eyes.—
If in my heart I cherish flattering hopes
Of pardon, heaven knows why I cherish them.
Beloved father! for thyself alone,
And once more to behold thee, I desire
Protracted life; to restore peace to thee,
Of which I robb'd thee; with my pious hands
To close thine aged eyes swimming in death:
For too assuredly thy failing life
Is drawing near a close! ... Ungrateful son!
Perchance thyself hast forwarded his death! ...

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.

SCENE THE THIRD.

Polyphontes, Merope, Ægisthus, Polydore, People, Soldiers.
Polyp.
Behold, oh Merope, I now commit
Into thy hands the murderer of thy son.
Let him be manacled with heavy chains;
And instantaneously at thy nod expire.

Me.
Ah miscreant! barbarous and atrocious wretch!
Assassin vile! thou hast imbrued thy hands
In the pure blood of my beloved son!
What now avails it that I spill all thine?
Can all thy blood redeem a drop of his?
I, who already was so much afflicted!
And thou, beyond all women and all mothers,
Hast rendered me incomparably wretched!—
Rivet those iron chains; prepare for him
Horrid and unexampled agonies;
And let his labouring soul toil forth in death
'Mid exquisite and long-protracted torments.
I will behold his bloody tears gush forth:
I will myself inflict on him not one,
But thousand, thousand deaths.—Ah Merope,
Alas! ... Will this restore to thee thy son?

Ægis.
Oh Merope, I yield myself to thee:
Yes, to a mother willingly I yield,
So justly desperate: and if in chains
These had not bound me, thou hadst well sufficed
To wreak on me what torments please thee best.
Just is thy indignation ... Yet thou knowest
That guiltless, and e'en worthy of compassion,
Erewhile I seem'd to thee.

Me.
I? ... felt for thee? ...
Compassion? ... —Yet those accents on my heart,
Whence is their unknown power? ... —Why thus delay? ...
What pity do I feel! ... What words were those? ...
Let us depart, and drag him to that tomb;
The father's shade, and those of his slain sons,
May by his blood be pacified; ... and mine;
For I shall quickly follow them.

Polyp.
One instant
Be pleased yet to suspend.—Soldiers, and you,
Messenians, witnesses I wish you all
Of this just solemn act.—Clandestinely
This angry mother to my detriment
Conceal'd a son: yet not the less I feel
Compassion for her grief; and I attest
The righteous gods, that had she, when alive,
With generous confidence reveal'd him to me,
I had, e'en as he were a son of mine,
Watched his well being, and his tender years
Defended with a fond solicitude.
Dead, 'tis my duty to avenge that son.
Ye hear?—Promptly be Merope obeyed:
To such immeasurable wretchedness
A single victim is inadequate.

Ægis.
Ah! a far different victim is required
To appease Cresphontes' shade.

Me.
What mutterest thou?
Let us depart ...

Pol.
I pray thee, pause a little ...
I would impart to thee ... Ah! hear me ...

Me.
Why
Speakest thou thus in whispers? Thou wert once
Devoted to Cresphontes; of his son
Thou wert the guardian: dost thou now repent
Of thy fidelity? And what, dost thou
Grieve for the murderer? ... Feel'st thou pity for him? ...
And pray'st thou that the blow ...

Pol.
I ... pity? ... no ...
But thou'rt a mother ... Pause ... Now more at length
Thou should'st from him himself hear many things
Of thy lost son.

Polyp.
This youth then knew that son?

Me.
What can I hear?—What dar'st thou to propose?
Hop'st thou to mitigate my rage? Did he
Not slay my son? Didst thou not tell me so?
Did not himself confess it? This his belt,
Reeking with blood, placed in my hands by thee,
Does that not give assurance of the fact?

Ægis.
That belt is mine, I swear to thee. Unclasp'd
I lost it from my side.

Pol.
Perhaps there might be
Another like to this ... that murder'd youth ...
Perhaps he was not thy son ...

Me.
What new fraud
Am I compell'd to hear? ... Ah guilty tyrant!
Then hast thou all corrupted? Even him,
So faithful to us once? As in defiance
Would'st thou the assassin of my son preserve,
And feign'st to wish him slain? and means like these? ...

Polyp.
Oh lady, thou'rt distracted by thy grief.
Who cannot here perceive ...

Me.
If then, in truth,
Thou dost desire his death, there now remains
No more for me to hear. E'en now I hold
My rage restrain'd no longer; all delay
Will turn this tide of passion 'gainst myself.
Wherefore advance we farther? In these thresholds
Where equally my immolated spouse
Is witness to the deed, without delay
Let him be pacified.—To me that sword;
Myself ... with my own arm to strike thee now ...

Ægis.
Bared to thy blow behold my breast. Ah mother! ...

Pol.
Pause ...

Me.
Let him die.

Pol.
Ah! pause ...

Polyp.
Thus darest thou? ...

Me.
Perfidious wretch! ... What now? ... Thou weepest, tremblest,
And I, I cannot smite him! ...

Polyp.
What means this?
There is some mystery here! Speak, old man, speak.

Pol.
For pity's sake ...

Polyp.
Speak.

Me.
Let me smite him now.

Pol.
He is ...

Me.
Who, who?

Polyp.
Quick ... Speak ...

Pol.
He is my son.

Me.
Ah? how?

Polyp.
This youth thy son?

Ægis.
He was my father.

Me.
He lies.—But if he were, he slew my son.
Thus, die.

Pol.
Ah! pause ... He is thy son.

Ægis.
Oh mother ...

Me.
Oh heavens!

Polyp.
Her son? ...

Pol.
Thou art a mother; save him.

Me.
My son! ...

Polyp.
What plot is this? Quick, guards, advance ...

Me.
I am thy shield, oh son ... Ah, yes, of this
My heart assures me: I am yet a mother ...

Polyp.
Soldiers ...

Me.
No sword that has not first pierced me
Shall touch his form ...

Ægis.
I clasp thee in my arms,
Oh mother! ...

Polyp.
Now, what lies dost thou bring here,
Thou prating evidence of worn-out fables?
An infamous assassin; one that too
Denies not that he is such? ... He thy son? ...
Shall I believe it? Guards, dispatch him quickly.

Me.
Infamous thou ... But while I breathe, my son
Is safe.

Pol.
I call the heavens to witness it,
He is Cresphontes. That belt is his own:
From this alone the error sprung. To you,
Messenians, I am known; I am not perjured ...

Ægis.
Do none among you recognize my face?
Of your illustrious monarch I am now
The only representative. Alas!
Is there not one that fought beneath his banners
In all this multitude?

Polyp.
He lies. Dispatch him ...

Me.
Me first ... No, never ...

Ægis.
Ah! release my arm;
Give me a sword, a sword: by my exploits
I shall be quickly recognized.

Me.
What words!
Oh real offspring of the great Alcides!
By his deportment, by his lofty speech,
Do not ye all now recognize him? Thou,
Dost thou not recognize him by thy fear,
Oh Polyphontes? Tremble now ... Ah no!
'Tis I that tremble; to the earth I bend
My suppliant knees. Ah! do thou yield to pity!
This realm of mine, which thou would'st share with me,
(At least it seem'd so,) keep exclusively;
Let it be always thine. The throne usurp'd,
My slaughter'd consort and my sons, all, all
I freely pardon thee: except this son,
Nothing remains to me in all the world;
I ask no other boon; spare him to me ...

Pol.
Reflect, that in thy unestablish'd realm
Thou still hast many foes; that thou canst not,
Without a mighty risk, destroy he son.
If I deceive thee, take my life. Erewhile
Thou didst prepare thyself with so much pomp
To avenge her for her son, hoping him dead;
He lives, and thou would'st have him slain?

Polyp.
This youth
I might with justice, whosoe'er he be,
Sentence to death. But yet, still more and more,
Lady, before the eyes of all Messene,
I would convict thee of unworthy fraud.
He is no son of thine; for thou thyself
Sawest thine own son all perish in the flames;
And all Messene often from thy mouth
Has heard the narrative: all here, with me,
Esteem the assertion of this one old man,
A renegade, and doubtless bribed by thee,
In so important an affair, a proof
Ridiculous and vain: yet, while I wait
For other more conclusive arguments,
I will suppose it true.—Release him, guards.—
Uninjured I restore him to thy arms;
Hence to the marriage rites proposed by me
I hope to make thee yield ...

Ægis.
Oh infamy!
Shalt thou contaminate that father's bed
Of whom thou hast deprived me? Rather now
Slay me upon the spot; 'twere a less evil ...

Me.
Ah! son; cease now to irritate him more.
Who knows what cruel projects he revolves? ...
Ah! Polyphontes ...

Polyp.
Clear this vestibule
Of thy auxiliary troops, Adrastes;
Let the accustomed guards alone remain,
And let the people for a while give way; ...
It shall return ... Heardest thou what I said? ...

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Polyphontes, Merope, Polydore, Ægisthus, Guards.
Me.
What has he said to him? ... Oh heavens! ... I tremble!

Polyp.
Nothing in all the world can save him, lady,
But thy consenting to be mine. If yet
There lurk some rebel subjects in Messene,
I in these walls am undisputed lord.
This fable of thy son shall be examined;
Should I destroy him, all my after ills
Could not to life restore him. A short space
I grant to thy reflections.—Before sun-set,
Here, in the presence of my household Gods,
Thou shalt have given to me thy hand in marriage,
Or here, before thy eyes, I shall myself
Have slain this youth.

Me.
Ah! ... hear me ...

Polyp.
Chuse.—I leave thee.
Invent at will supposititious tales;
At least I have ye all within my power.—
Guards, whosoe'er of these should try t'escape
From this my palace, slay him instantly.

SCENE THE FIFTH.

Merope, Polydore, Ægisthus, Guards at the bottom of the Scene.
Me.
Beloved son! ... My only son! ... I scarce
Can think it true ... And would I have destroy'd thee?
I? ... Yet my labouring and bewilder'd heart
Felt a mysterious check ... But what hard terms
Restore thee to me? ... Wherefore thus complain?
All terms are easy that restore my son.

Ægis.
Ah wretched me! It had been better far
That I had perish'd in my infancy.
Oh mother, whither, whither do I drag thee! ...

Pol.
Hear me, oh queen: a dire necessity
Constrains thee to submit. The cruel blow
Is but delay'd from the perfidious hope
Which hath possess'd the tyrant to gain time,
And not increase the universal hate.
Provided that he can obtain thy hand,
He, for a time at least, will hold with thee
His hard conditions: but if thou refuse,
He will resort to sanguinary schemes,
As to the most secure. 'Tis needful now,
Now, if it ever was, for thee to shew
Thyself a mother, and nought else. 'Tis true,
To a dire sacrifice thou doom'st thyself;
But for thy son thou dost it ...

Me.
For his sake
What would I not perform? What doubt? ...

Ægis.
Oh mother! ...

Pol.
But, if it be perform'd, there then arise
A multitude of hopes. The tyrant feigns;
I hope we may anticipate his projects.
No sooner will our ancient friends have heard
That the last son of their Cresphontes lives,
Than they will subtly stratagems devise
To rescue him from the perfidious tyrant.
If they behold him, what may we not hope!
Nothing is wanting to them but a leader ...

Ægis.
And I will be that leader.

Pol.
Yes, oh son ...
I dare to call thee by the accustom'd name ...
Their leader thou shalt be: within my heart
I feel a joyful presage; since the gods
Have heretofore vouchsafed to rescue thee
From the first violence of the frantic tyrant.
Meanwhile, dissimulation for a time
Is indispensable; thou, Merope,
Affect without reluctance to accept
The infamous conditions; 'tis thy duty:
Thou, youthful champion, struggle to assume
Conciliatory manners, briefly such
As to root out from, or, at least in part,
Abate suspicion in the impious king;
Whence with his own arms thou may'st triumph o'er him;
Thou art constrain'd to this, if it concern thee
To break those heavy chains assumed for thee
By thy devoted mother.

Ægis.
Ah! I swear
To obey thee; swear at least while I am powerless.
Woe if a sword is offer'd to my wrath!
Ah then I only listen to my valour,
And to the prompting voice of my dead father.

Pol.
Ah! hold thy peace.—Lady, do thou consent,
That, in thy name, without delay, I go
To the usurper; here consummate art,
And prompt decision, are alike required.
I shall know better how to feign than thou.
Grant thy consent that I may pledge thy hand:
Confide in me; I will, if I am able,
Obtain at least a temporary respite.
If in his wish he persevere, to-day
To celebrate the impious nuptial-rites,
I place great hopes in the Messenian's aid.
Meanwhile do thou thy overweening courage,
And thou thy overweening hate, conceal.
I feel a mother's tenderness for thee;
And furthermore I have a father's sense,
And long experience: place in me reliance.

Ægis.
Oh father!

Me.
Speedily, my faithful friend,
Depart; dispose of me and my concerns.
I, with my son, will hence retire a little.

SCENE THE SIXTH.

Merope, Ægisthus.
Me.
In kissing, and embracing thee, at last
Let me indulge myself.

Ægis.
At what a price,
What horrible price, thou purchasest the blessing!