KING. Ah! seek, I pray, better foundations for the comfort thy heart
would offer me. Do not by the fallacy of thy reasoning increase the
burden of the piercing grief which now torments me. Dost thou imagine
that thou givest me a powerful reason why I should not complain of
this decree of heaven? and in this proceeding of the gods, of which
thou biddest me be satisfied, dost thou not clearly see a deadly
severity? Consider the state in which the gods force me to resign
thee, and that in which my hapless heart received thee. Thou shalt
know then that they take from me much more than they gave: from them I
received in thee, my daughter, a gift I did not ask for; then I found
in it but few charms, and without joy I saw my family increased by it.
But my heart and my eyes have made a sweet habit of this gift. Fifteen
years of care, of watchfulness, of study, have I employed to render it
precious to me. I have decked it with the lovely wealth of a thousand
brilliant virtues; I have enshrined in it, by assiduous care, the
rarest treasures that wisdom yields; to it clings the tenderness of my
soul. I have made it the charm, the joy of this heart, the solace of
my wearied senses, the sweet hope of my old age. All this they take
from me--these gods! And thou wouldst have me utter no complaint
concerning this dire edict from which I suffer! Ah! with too much
rigour their power tramples upon the affections of our heart. To
withdraw their gift, have they not waited till I had made it my all?
Rather, if it was their purpose to remove it, had it not been better
to give me nothing?
PSY. My Lord! dread the wrath of those gods whom you dare upbraid.
KING. After this blow, what more can they inflict on me?
PSY. Ah! my Lord! I tremble for your sins, of which I am the cause; I
hate myself for this....
KING. Ah! let them bear with my legitimate complaints; 'tis pain
enough for me to obey them; it ought to suffice them that my heart
abandons thee to the barbarous respect we must bear them, without
claiming also to control the grief that so frightful a decree calls
forth. My just despair can know no bounds. My grief, my grief, I will
nurse it for ever! I will feel for ever the loss I sustain, of
heaven's rigour I will always raise high my complaint; until death I
will unceasingly weep for that than which the whole world could give
me naught more precious.
PSY. Ah! I pray you, my Lord, spare my weakness. I need constancy in
these circumstances. Add not to the excess of my grief by the tears of
your fondness. My sorrow alone is deep enough; my fate and your grief
are too much for my heart.
KING. True! I must spare thee my disconsolate trouble. The fatal
moment has come. I must tear myself from thee; but how can I utter
this dreadful word? And yet I must! Heaven commands it. An unavoidable
cruelty forces me to leave thee in this fatal spot. Farewell, I go...
Farewell.
SCENE II.--PSYCHE, AGLAURA, CIDIPPE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account