University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE SECOND.

Myrrha, Pereus.
My.
With Pereus he leaves me ... Fatal trial!
This rends my heart indeed.

Pe.
At length, oh Myrrha,
The day is come, that which, if thou wert so,
Is destined to make me supremely happy.
Thy hair with nuptial coronals adorn'd,
Thy form enveloped in a pompous robe,
I see indeed: but on thy countenance,
Thy looks, thy gestures, and in every step,
Pale melancholy lours. Oh Myrrha, he
Who loves thee far more than his proper life,
Cannot behold thee with a mien like this
To an indissoluble tie approach.
This is the hour, th' important hour is this,
When 'tis no more allowable for thee
To pass delusions on thyself or others.
Thou should'st divulge to me (whate'er it be)
The cause of thy distress; or should'st at least
Confess to me that thou dost not repose
Thy confidence in me; that I bewray
Thy injudicious choice, and that at heart
Thou art repentant, and would'st fain retract.
I shall not hence account that I am wrong'd;
Oh no! though this sad heart will be surcharged
With mortal wretchedness. But what car'st thou
For the distraction of a man not loved,
And slenderly esteem'd? It too much now
Imports to me not to make thee unhappy.
Then speak to me explicitly and boldly.
But thou art mute and motionless? ... Thy silence
Breathes disaffection, ... death. Thy silence is
An answer too decisive: ... thou dost hate me;
And dar'st not say it ... Now resume thy faith:
I instantly prepare myself to fly
For ever from thine eyes, since I am thus
An object of aversion ... But if I
Was always so, how deserved I thy choice?
If I became so afterwards, ah, tell me
In what I have offended thee?

My.
... Oh prince! ...
Thy overweening love depicts my grief
More poignant than it is. Beyond the bounds
Of truth thy heated phantasy impels thee.
With silence thy unprecedented words
I hear; what wonder? unexpected things,
Unacceptable, and e'en more than this,
Not true, dost thou express: how can I then
Reply to thee?—This, for our nuptial rites,
Is the appointed day; I hither come
To accomplish them: and doth he meanwhile doubt,
The consort chosen by myself, of me?
'Tis true, perchance my spirits are not buoyant,
As her's should be who doth obtain a spouse
Distinguish'd like thyself: but pensiveness
In some is nature's cast; and ill could he
Whose spirits stagnate in a constant ebb,
Trace the dim cause that interdicts their flow:
And often an officious questioning,
Instead of making manifest the cause,
Redoubles the effect.

Pe.
I'm irksome to thee;
I see it by unquestionable symptoms.
Alas! I knew that thou could'st never love me;
Yet in my infirm heart I had caress'd
At least the flattering hope thou didst not hate me:
In time, for thine and my peace, I perceive
That I deceived myself!—'Tis not (alas!)
Within my power to make thee hate me not:
But on myself doth it alone depend
To make thee not despise me. Now art thou
Freed, and released from all thy promised faith.
Against thy will illicitly I gain'd it:—
Not by thy parents, ... and still less by me, ...
By a false shame thou art restrain'd. Thou would'st,
Not to incur the blame of versatile,
Thine own worst enemy, render thyself
The victim of thy error: and dost thou
Hope I should suffer this? Ah no!—That I
Love thee, that I deserve thee, now I ought
To prove this to thee by refusing thee ...

My.
Thou dost delight to exasperate my grief ...
Ah! how can I be joyous in thy presence,
If I am destined always to behold
Thy love ill-pleased with mine? Can I assign
The causes of a grief, for the most part
In me supposititious, which, indeed,
If true in part, perhaps has no other cause
Than the new state which I'm about to enter,
And the obligation to divide myself
From my beloved parents; and the words
So oft repeated to myself, “Perhaps
“I never more shall see them ... never more?”
The long, long pilgrimage to other realms;
The change of manners and the change of place;
The long farewell to all familiar objects,
And all familiar friends, from childhood loved;
And other thoughts, by thousands and by thousands,
All passionate and tender, and all sad,
And all indisputably better known,
And felt more keenly, than by any other,
By thy humane, courteous, and lofty heart.—
I gave myself spontaneously to thee;
Nor have I ever with repentant thoughts,
I swear to thee, look'd back on this resolve.
If it were so, I would have told it to thee:
Thee, above all men, I esteem; from thee
Nothing would I conceal, ... that I would not
Likewise, from my own consciousness, conceal.—
Now I implore, let him who loves me best,
Speak to me least of this my wretchedness,
And 'twill in time, I feel assured, depart.
Could I, not prizing thee, give thee my hand,
I should despise myself: and how not prize thee?
My lip knows not to speak that which my heart
Doth not first dictate: yet that lip assures thee,
Swears to thee, that I never will belong
To any one but thee.—What more can I
Profess to thee?

Pe.
... Myrrha, I venture not
To ask of thee one thing, which, could'st thou say it,
Would give me life indeed! Fatal demand!
'Twere death, I fear, to be resolved on this ...
Thou to be mine then dost not now disdain?
Dost not repent of it, and no delay?

My.
No, none; this is the day; I will be thine.—
But let our sails be hoisted to the winds
To-morrow, and for ever let us leave
These shores behind us.

Pe.
Do I hear thee rightly?
With such abrupt transition how canst thou
Thus differ from thyself? It tortures thee
So much to abandon thy beloved parents,
Thy native country, yet would'st thou depart
Speedily thus for ever ...

My.
I, ... for ever ...
Would ... thus abandon them; ... and die of ... grief ...

Pe.
What do I hear? Thy anguish hath betray'd thee; ...
Thy words and looks are prompted by despair.
I swear that I will never be the means
Of thy destruction; never ... of my own
Too certainly ...

My.
... 'Tis true ... 'tis too, too true; ...
I am distracted by a mighty woe ...
But no, believe me not.—Inflexibly
I to my purpose keep—While I have thus
My bosom harden'd as it were with grief,
My parting hence will be less keenly felt:
A solace in thyself ...

Pe.
... No, Myrrha, no: ...
I am the cause, I am, (though innocent)
Of the dire conflict, which thus lacerates,
And agitates thy heart.—I will not now
Longer prevent with my importunate presence
Needful alleviation of thy grief.—
Do thou thyself, oh Myrrha, to thy parents
Propose some means that may deliver thee
From ties so inauspicious; or from them
Thou'lt hear to-day of Pereus' violent death.