VOLTAIRE: 60+ Works in One Volume - Philosophical Writings, Novels, Historical Works, Poetry, Plays & Letters. Вольтер
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To thy advice, and to a mother’s tears;
To my son’s danger, to my own hard fate;
Which dooms me yet perhaps to greater ills
Than I have suffered. Go thou to my mother;
When night shall throw her sable mantle o’er
This seat of guilt, let some one give me notice
That all is ready; since it must be done,
I am prepared.
SCENE V.
mariamne, varus, eliza.
varus.
I come, great queen, to know
Your last commands; which, as the law of heaven.
Shall be revered: say, must this arm avenge thee?
Speak, and ’tis done: command, and I obey.
mariamne.
Varus, I’m much indebted to thy goodness,
And, but my sorrows plead their own excuse,
Should not be thus importunate; I know
Thou lovest to help the wretched, therefore ask
Thy generous aid: whilst Herod’s doubtful fate
Hung in the balance, and he knew not which
Awaited him, a prison or a throne,
I did solicit Varus in his favor;
Spite of his cruelties, against my peace,
Against my interest, I performed my duty.
Now Mariamne for herself implores
Thy kind protection; begs thee to preserve
From most inhuman laws, her hapless sons,
The poor remains of Syria’s royal race.
Long since I should have left these guilty walls,
And asked the senate for some safe retreat;
But whilst the sword of war filled half the world
With blood and slaughter, ’twas in vain to seek
For refuge in the scene of wild destruction:
Augustus now hath given the nations peace,
And spread his bounties o’er the face of nature:
After the toils of hateful war, resolved
To make the world, which he had conquered, happy:
He sits supreme o’er tributary kings,
And takes the poor and injured to his care:
Who has so fair a title to his justice,
As my unhappy, my defenceless children?
Brought by their weeping mother from afar
To ask his succor; he will shelter them,
His generous hand will wipe off all our tears.
I shall not ask him to revenge my cause,
Or punish my proud foes; it is enough
If my loved children, formed by his example,
And by his justice taught, true Romans soon,
Shall learn to rule of those who rule mankind.
A mother’s comfort, and her children’s safety,
Depend on thee: my woes will vanish all
If thou wilt hear me; and thy noble heart
Hath ever been the friend of injured virtue:
To thee I owe my life: assist me now,
Remove me, Varus, from this fatal palace;
Grant my benighted steps a friendly guide
To Sidon’s ports, where now thy vessels lie.
Not answer me! what means that look of sorrow?
Why art thou silent? O! too well I see
Thou wilt not hear the voice of wretchedness.
varus.
It is not so: I hear, and will obey thee:
My guards shall follow thee to Rome: dispose
Of them, of me; my heart, my life is thine.
Flee from the tyrant, break the fatal tie;
’Tis punishment enough to be forsaken
By Mariamne: never shall he behold thee;
Thanks to his own injustice; and I feel
Too well there cannot be a fate more cruel.
Forgive me, but the thought of losing thee
Hath drawn the fatal secret from my breast;
I own my crime: but, spite of all my weakness,
Know, my respect is equal to my love:
Varus but wishes to protect thy virtue,
But to avenge thy injuries, and die.
mariamne.
I hoped the great preserver of my life
Would prove the guardian of my honor too;
And to his pity only thought I owed
His kind assistance; ne’er did I expect
That he, of all men, should increase my sorrows;
Or that, to crown the woes of Mariamne,
I should be forced to tremble at thy goodness,
And blush for every favor I received:
Yet, think not, Varus, that thy passion, thus
Declared, shall rob thee of my gratitude: