Hear me, then, speak; and let this mournful day, The twentieth anniversary of strife, Henceforth be honour'd as the date of peace. Yes, twenty years ago this day beheld The king Cresphontes, thy great husband, fall; It needs no yearly offerings at his tomb To keep alive that memory in my heart-- It lives, and, while I see the light, will live. For we were kinsmen--more than kinsmen--friends; Together we had grown, together lived; Together to this isle of Pelops came To take the inheritance of Heracles, Together won this fair Messenian land-- Alas, that, how to rule it, was our broil! He had his counsel, party, friends--I mine; He stood by what he wish'd for--I the same; I smote him, when our wishes clash'd in arms-- He had smit me, had he been swift as I. But while I smote him, Queen, I honour'd him; Me, too, had he prevail'd, he had not scorn'd. Enough of this! Since that, I have maintain'd The sceptre--not remissly let it fall-- And I am seated on a prosperous throne; Yet still, for I conceal it not, ferments In the Messenian people what remains Of thy dead husband's faction--vigorous once, Now crush'd but not quite lifeless by his fall. And these men look to thee, and from thy grief-- Something too studiously, forgive me, shown-- Infer thee their accomplice; and they say That thou in secret nurturest up thy son, Him whom thou hiddest when thy husband fell, To avenge that fall, and bring them back to power. Such are their hopes--I ask not if by thee Willingly fed or no--their most vain hopes; For I have kept conspiracy fast-chain'd Till now, and I have strength to chain it still. But, Merope, the years advance;--I stand Upon the threshold of old age, alone, Always in arms, always in face of foes. The long repressive attitude of rule Leaves me austerer, sterner, than I would; Old age is more suspicious than the free And valiant heart of youth, or manhood's firm Unclouded reason; I would not decline Into a jealous tyrant, scourged with fears, Closing in blood and gloom his sullen reign. The cares which might in me with time, I feel, Beget a cruel temper, help me quell! The breach between our parties help me close! Assist me to rule mildly; let us join Our hands in solemn union, making friends Our factions with the friendship of their chiefs. Let us in marriage, King and Queen, unite Claims ever hostile else, and set thy son-- No more an exile fed on empty hopes, And to an unsubstantial title heir, But prince adopted by the will of power, And future king--before this people's eyes. Consider him! consider not old hates! Consider, too, this people, who were dear To their dead king, thy husband--yea, too dear, For that destroy'd him. Give them peace! thou can'st. O Merope, how many noble thoughts, How many precious feelings of man's heart,