At length I come to lay my heart before you:
I’ve served the state, and my successful toils
Have opened me a passage to the throne:
The assembled chiefs awhile suspend their choice,
But soon must fix it, or on Mérope,
Or Poliphontes: the unhappy feuds
That laid Messene waste, and filled the land
With blood and slaughter, all are buried now
In peaceful harmony, and we alone
Remain to part the fair inheritance.
We should support each other’s mutual claim;
Our common interest, and our common foes,
Love for our country, reason, duty, all
Conspire to join us, all unite to say
The warrior who avenged thy husband, he
Who saved thy kingdom, may aspire to thee.
I know these hoary locks, and wrinkled brow,
Have little charms to please a youthful fair one.
Thou’rt in the bloom of spring, and mayest despise
The winter of my days; but statesmen heed not
Such fond objections: let the royal wreath
Hide these gray hairs, a sceptre and a queen
Will recompense my toils: nor think me rash,
Or vain, you are the daughter of a king,
I know you are, but your Messene wants
A master now; therefore remember, madam,
If you would keep your right, you must—divide it.
mérope.
Heaven, that afflicts me with its bitterest woes,
Prepared me not for this, this cruel insult:
How darest thou ask it? wert thou not the subject
Of great Cresphontes? thinkest thou I will e’er
Betray the memory of my dearest lord,
To share with thee his son’s inheritance,
Trust to thy hands his kingdom and his mother?
Thinkest thou the royal wreath was made to bind
A soldier’s brows?
poliphontes.
That soldier has a right
To rule the kingdom which his arm defended.
What was the first that bore the name of king,
But a successful soldier? he who serves
His country well requires not ancestry
To make him noble: the inglorious blood,
Which I received from him who gave me life,
I shed already in my country’s cause,
It flowed for thee; and, spite of thy proud scorn,
I must at least be equal to the kings
I have subdued: but, to be brief with you,
The throne will soon be mine, and Mérope
May share it with me, if her pride will deign
To accept it: I’ve a powerful party, madam.
mérope.
A party! wretch, to trample on our laws:
Is there a party which thou darest support
Against the king’s, against the royal race?
Is this thy faith, thy solemn vows, thy oath,
Sworn to Cresphontes, and to me; the love,
The honor due to his illustrious shade,
His wretched widow, and his hapless son;
The gods he sprang from, and the throne they gave?
poliphontes.
’Tis doubtful whether yet your son survives;
But grant that, from the mansions of the dead,
He should return, and in the face of heaven
Demand his throne, believe me when I say
He would demand in vain; Messene wants
A master worthy of her, one well proved,
A king who could defend her: he alone
Should wield the sceptre who can best avenge
His country’s cause: Ægisthus is a child,
Yet unexperienced in the ways of men,
And therefore little will his birth avail him;
Naught hath he done for us, and naught deserved:
He cannot purchase at so cheap a rate
Messene’s throne, the right of power supreme
Defends no more the gift of nature, here
From son to son; it is the price of toil,
Of labor, and of blood; ’tis virtue’s meed,
Which I shall claim: have you so soon forgot
The savage sons of Pylos and Amphrysa,
Those lawless plunderers? Think on your Cresphontes,
And your defenceless children whom they slew:
Who saved your country then? Who stopped their fury?
Who put your foes to flight, and chased them hence?
Did not this arm avenge that murdered lord
Whom yet you weep? these, madam, are my rights,
The rights of valor: this is all my rank,
This all my title, and let heaven decide it.
If thy Ægisthus comes, by me perhaps
He may be taught to live, by me to reign:
Then shall he see how Poliphontes guides
The reins of empire. I esteem the blood
Of great Alcides, but I fear it not;
I look beyond Alcides’ race, and fain
Would imitate the god from whom he sprung:
I would defend the mother, serve the son;
Be an example to him, and a father.
mérope.
O, sir, no more of your affected cares;
Your generous offers, meant but to insult
My hapless son; if you would wish to tread
In great Alcides’ steps, reserve the crown
For his descendant: know, that demi-god
Was the avenger of wronged innocence;
No ravisher, no tyrant; take thou care,
And with his valor imitate his justice;
Protect the guiltless, and defend your king,
Else shalt thou prove a worthless successor.
If thou wouldst gain the mother, seek the son;
Go, bring him to me; bring your master here,
And then perhaps I may descend to you:
But I will never be the vile accomplice,
Or the reward, of guilt like thine.
SCENE IV.