VOLTAIRE: 60+ Works in One Volume - Philosophical Writings, Novels, Historical Works, Poetry, Plays & Letters. Вольтер. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Вольтер
Издательство: Bookwire
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9788075835987
Скачать книгу
What must I do?—

      the hierophants.

       —Olympia on her knees

       Will soon appear before you, then ’tis yours

       To bless the marriage of the illustrious pair.

      statira.

       I’ll reconcile her to a life of woe,

       That is the lot of mortals.—

      the hierophants.

       —The incense,

       The water for ablution, and the gifts

       Offered up to the gods, your royal hands

       Shall bear, and at their sacred shrine present.

      statira.

       For whom should I present them, wretch—must then

       My life be filled with horror to its close?

       In my retreat I thought to ’scape from woe,

       Oh fruitless hope! woe everywhere abounds:

       Let me obey the law which I have made.

      the hierophants.

       Farewell, I both lament you and admire.

       Behold, she comes.

       [Exit.

      SCENE III.

       Table of Contents

      statira and olympia.

      statira.

       [The stage shakes.

       Dark and awful cells,

       You shake, a horrid murmur strikes my ear:

       The temple quakes, must nature then be moved

       When she appears, must all my senses fail,

       And the same trouble and confusion feel?

      olympia.

       [Terrified.

       Ah madam!

      statira.

       Young, tender victim to the nupital law,

       Approach. These frightful omens crime denote,

       Such charms as yours for virtue’s self seem made.

      olympia.

       My sinking courage, oh just gods support!

       Oh you, the confidant of their decrees,

       Deign to direct my innocence and youth.

       I claim your care, my terror dissipate.

      statira.

       Alas, mine yours exceeds, embrace me, daughter,

       Do you then know your husband’s history,

       Or do you know your country or your birth?

      olympia.

       Of humble birth, I never did expect

       My present rank, to which I have no right.

       Cassander, madam’s king, he deigned in Greece

       To educate me at his father’s court.

       Since I’ve been near his person, I have seen

       In him the greatest of all human kind.

       The husband’s dear, the master is revered;

       Thus have I all my sentiments made known.

      statira.

       How easily a youthful heart’s deceived!

       How much I love your candid innocence!

       Cassander, then, has taken charge of you.

       Do you not from some king derive your birth?

      olympia.

       Can none love virtue or obey its laws,

       But such as from a kingly race descend?

      statira.

       I think not so, guilt dwells too near the throne.

      olympia.

       I was a slave, no more.—

      statira.

       —I’m much surprised

       Upon your front august, and in your eyes,

       In every noble feature of your face

       We read the virtues of a royal mind.

       Could you be then a slave?

      olympia.

       —Antipater

       Seized on my infancy by chance of war.

       All to his son I owe.—

      statira.

       —Your first days thus

       Have felt misfortunes, which at length have ceased;

       My woes have been as lasting as my life.

       Say where and when you were by fate involved

       In ills which brought you to captivity?

      olympia.

       I’m told a king, the world’s victorious lord

       Was slain, and rivals for his empire strove;

       That whilst it was by fierce contentions torn,

       In Babylon Cassander saved my life,

       When it was threatened by the murderous blade.

      statira.

       In days made sad by Alexander’s death,

       Were you then captive of Antipater,

       And did you by Cassander’s favors live?

      olympia.

       I never could learn more. Misfortunes past

       Felicity has banished from my thought.

      statira.

       Captive at Babylon; eternal powers

       Do you then make of mortals’ woes your sport?

       The time, the place, her age, have in my soul

       At once roused joy, grief, tenderness, and dread.

       Am I not then deceived? Upon her face

       My valiant husband’s image is impressed. . . . .

      olympia.

       What say you?—

      statira.

       —Heavens! such looks the hero cast,

       When mild and from the bloody field retired!

       He raised my family, which scarce had escaped

       The insatiate fury of the murderous blade!

       When he raised all my fallen family

       To their first rank, and when his hand touched mine!

       Illusion dear! enchanting hope! but vain.

       Can it be possible! List, princess, list,

       Pity the agitation of my soul!

       Have you no memory of a mother left!

      olympia.

       Those who have had it in their power to tell

       Of the transactions of my infancy,

       Informed me that I, in those days of slaughter,

       Was even, when in my cradle, made a slave.

       A mother’s fondness ne’er to me was known.

       I know not who I am, from whom I’m sprung.

       Alas, you sigh, you weep; my trickling tears