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Автор: Вольтер
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rel="nofollow" href="#u7abefb16-49ee-5882-b091-a5cee4c3eac8">SCENE IV.

       SCENE V.

       ACT V.

       SCENE I.

       SCENE II.

       SCENE III.

       SCENE IV.

      DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

       Table of Contents

      The Duke of Foix.

      Amelia.

      Vamir, Brother to the Duke of Foix.

      Lisois.

      Thais, Confidante of Amelia.

      Emar, Friend of Vamir.

      SCENE, the Palace of the Duke of Foix.

      This tragedy is founded on historical truth. A duke of Brittany, in the year 1387, commanded the lord of Bavalan to assassinate the constable of Clisson: Bavalan, the day after, told the duke it was done: the duke becoming sensible of the horror of his crime, and apprehensive of the fatal consequences of it, abandoned himself to the most violent despair: Bavalan, after giving him time to repent, at length told him that he had loved him well enough to disobey his orders, etc.

      The action is transported to another age and country for particular reasons.

      ACT I.

      SCENE I.

       Table of Contents

      amelia, lisois.

      lisois.

       Permit a soldier, in this seat of war,

       To steal a moment from the battle’s rage,

       And greet the fair Amelia; to the king

       Thy noble heart is bound, I know, by ties

       Of dearest friendship; long and faithfully

       Hath Lisois served the valiant duke of Foix

       Who holds thee here a prisoner: well I know

       The violence of his passion for Amelia,

       Foresee the dreadful consequence, and come,

       With all the warmth of friendship, to advise

       And to consult, to lay my heart before thee

       Perhaps ’tis not unworthy of thy notice.

      amelia.

       The seal of truth is ever on thy lips,

       I know thy firm integrity; whate’er

       Thou sayest, I shall believe.

      lisois.

       Know then, though long

       I’ve served the duke with most unwearied zeal,

       Through years of peril, and unnumbered toils,

       Yet could I ne’er approve the fatal league

       That bound him to the Moor, and took from France

       The noblest of her princes; in these days

       Of public discord, I have ranged myself

       Beneath no banners but what honor raised,

       And followed but the dictates of my heart:

       Not that, the slave of prejudice, my soul

       Is blind to all the errors of a friend;

       With grief I see the duke’s impatient warmth,

       The impetuous ardor of his boiling youth,

       I cannot shut my eyes against his follies:

       Ofttimes the torrent which I strive to stop

       Mocks my weak power, and throws down all before it;

       But he has virtues that will recompense

       His worst of faults: if we must follow none

       But perfect princes, whose unbiassed hearts

       Are free from every vice, and every weakness,

       Whom shall we serve? I love the duke; and yet

       ’Tis with regret I draw the hostile sword

       ’Gainst France: I wish he could be reconciled.

      amelia.

       If that could e’er be done, thy influence best

       Might reunite them: if he loves his glory,

       Sure this misguided prince will listen to thee.

       How fatal has his error been!

      lisois.

       In vain

       I’ve tried to bend his haughty spirit; oft

       Have I with harsh unwelcome truths attacked him,

       And sorely pierced his heart: but thou alone

       Canst bring him to his duty, and his king:

       That was my errand here: there was a time

       When on the fair Amelia I had placed

       My hopes of bliss; without abasement then

       I thought you might have listened to my vows;

       But heaven reserved thee for a nobler fate.

       Whilst I was absent, by the cruel Moors

       Thou wert enslaved; the happy conqueror came,

       The gallant Foix, and saved thee from their rage;

       His was the glory, his be the reward:

       His claims are strong, his youth, his rank, and power,

       His fame, and services, all plead for him;

       Amelia’s justice and her gratitude

       Must bind her to him: I have no pretence,

       And therefore I am silent; but if merit

       Could make thee mine, I would dispute the prize

       Even with the sons of kings, nor yield Amelia

       To any but to him: he is my master,

       My leader, and my friend; he loves me well:

       I am not a half proud, half virtuous lover,

       But what I still would litigate with power,

       I give to friendship; nay, I can do more,

       I can subdue the weakness of my heart,

       And plead a rival’s cause; point out the path

       Of glory to thee, show thee what is due

       To that illustrious hero who preserved thee,

       By whom thou livest: I can behold unmoved,

       And with unenvying eye, thy charms bestowed

       On him who best deserves them: take my heart

       Between you, and accept my honest service,

       This arm shall fight for both; I sacrifice

       My passions to your interest: friendship bids me,

       And I obey; my country too commands:

       Remember, if the prince is yours, he soon