University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE FOURTH.

Myrrha, Euryclea.
Eu.
Oh whither dost thou fly
Thus with such breathless haste, beloved daughter?

My.
Where can I find, if not in thee, some solace?
To thee I came ...

Eu.
I, from a distance, long
Have watch'd thee carefully. Thou knowest well
I never can abandon thee: I hope
That thou wilt pardon me. From thence I saw
Pereus rush troubled forth; and I find thee
With heavier grief oppress'd: ah, dearest daughter,
Thy tears at least may freely have a vent
Within my breast.

My.
Ah yes, dear Euryclea,
With thee I may at least shed tears ... I feel
As if my heart would burst from checking them.

Eu.
And wilt thou, in a state like this, persist,
Oh daughter, in these hymeneal rites?

My.
I hope my agonies may kill me first ...
But no; that cannot be; the time's too short; ...
They afterwards will kill me, kill me soon ...
Death, ... death, ... I have no other wish ... but death ...
No other destiny, save death ... deserve ...

Eu.
—Myrrha, no other furies can assail
With such barbarity thy youthful breast,
Save those of love ...

My.
What dar'st thou say to me?
What cruel falsehood? ...

Eu.
Ah, do not, I beseech thee,
Be grieved with me. For a long time I have thought so:
But if it thus displease thee, I will dare
No more to say it to thee. Ah, may'st thou
Preserve with me the confidence of weeping!
Neither do I know well if I believe
What I have said; moreover, to thy mother
I hitherto have strenuously denied it ...

My.
What do I hear? Oh heaven! does she perchance
Also suspect it? ...

Eu.
And who, seeing thus
A tender virgin in excessive grief,
And grief apparently without a cause,
Would not deem love the origin of this?
Ah! were thy grief from love alone! at least
Some remedy might then be found.—Immersed
In this perplexing doubt for a long time,
I to the altar dared one day to go
Of Venus, our sublime divinity;
With tears, with incense, and persuasive prayers,
With labouring heart, before her sacred image
Prostrate, I ventured to pronounce thy name ...

My.
Ah! what audacity! What hast thou done?
Venus! ... Oh heaven! ... inimical to me ...
The force of her implacable revenge ...
What do I say? ... Alas! ... I shudder, ... tremble ...

Eu.
'Tis true, I was audaciously officious:
The angry deity disdain'd my vows;
The incense, in a smouldering gloom involved,
With difficulty burn'd; and, downwards driven,
The smoke collected round my hoary head.
Would'st thou hear further? I presumed to raise
To the stern image my afflicted eyes,
And horribly incensed with indignation,
With threatening looks the goddess seem'd to me
Herself to drive me from her sacred feet.
With trembling steps I totter'd from the temple,
Palsied with fear ... In telling this, I feel
My hair with horror once more stand on end ...

My.
And thou with terror mak'st me also shudder.
What hast thou dared to do? By Myrrha now
Must no celestial power, and much less that
Of our tremendous goddess, be invoked.
I am abandon'd by the gods; my breast
Opens its chambers to the ravening furies;
There they alone authority possess,
And residence.—Ah! if there still remains
In thee the shadow of a genuine pity,
My faithful Euryclea, (thou alone
Canst do it,) save me from despair: 'tis slow,
Too slow, although 'tis infinite, my grief.

Eu.
Thou mak'st me tremble ... What can I? ...

My.
... I ask thee
To abridge my woes. By little and by little
Thou seest my o'er-worn, o'er-task'd frame decay;
My lingering agonies destroy my parents;
A burden to myself, a curse to others,
I never can escape: 'twere pity, love,
To expedite my death; from thee I ask it ...

Eu.
Oh heaven! ... from me? ... My very utterance fails, ...
My breath, ... my thought ...

My.
Ah no, thou lov'st me not!
I weakly deem'd that in thy aged breast
There dwelt a comprehensive tenderness ...
Yet thou thyself didst in my tender years
Exhort me to nobility of thought:
Oft have I heard from thee that virtuous souls
Should prefer death to infamy. Alas! ...
What do I say? ... But thou dost hear me not ...
Motionless, ... mute, ... thou scarcely breath'st! Oh heaven! ...
What have I said? Distracted with my pangs ...
I know not what I've said: Ah, pardon me;
My second mother, be once more thyselfe ...

Eu.
... Oh daughter, daughter! ... Thou ask death from me?
Thou death from me? ...

My.
Esteem me not ungrateful;
Nor that the anguish of my own despair
Robs me of pity for the pangs of others.—
Wilt thou not see me then extinct in Cyprus?
Thou must perforce, ere it be long, be told,
That ere the vessel reach Epirus' shore,
Myrrha had breathed her last.

Eu.
In vain dost thou
Presume to yield to these abhorred nuptials.
I to thy parents fly to tell the whole ...

My.
Ah, do it not, or irretrievably
Thou forfeitest my love: ah, do it not,
I pray thee; in the name of thy true love
I do conjure thee. From a troubled heart
Accents escape which should not be recorded.—
An ample solace (one which hitherto
I've not allow'd) hath been my tears with thee,
The speaking of my grief: in me already
My courage hence is doubled.—A few hours
Are wanting to my solemn nuptial rite.
Be ever near me: let us go. Meanwhile
It is thy province to confirm me more
In my inevitable lofty purpose.
Thou by thy faithful council, and thy more
Than mother's love, at once should'st strengthen me;
Thou should'st so act, that firmly I pursue
The sole remaining honourable track.