MITHRIDATE
A monologue from the
play by Jean
Racine
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from The Dramatic Works of Jean Racine. Trans. Robert
Bruce Boswell. London: George Bell and Sons, 1911. |
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- XIPHARES: I love her, and may own my passion
- Now that that brother is my only rival.
- Doubtless you wonder at the words I speak,
- But 'tis no secret of a few short days,
- Long has this love of mine grown up in silence.
- How I could make you realize its ardour,
- My earliest sighs, my latest disappointment!
- But in the state to which we are reduced
- 'Tis no fit time to task my memory
- With the recital of an amorous tale.
- Let it suffice, to justify myself,
- That it was I who first beheld the Queen,
- And loved her. Ere the name of Monima
- Had reach'd my father's ears, her charms had roused
- A lawful passion in my heart. He saw her,
- And courted her, but with unworthy suit,
- Deeming that she would prove an easy conquest,
- Without presuming to claim marriage honours.
- You know how warmly he assail'd her virtue,
- And, weary of a long and fruitless struggle,
- Absent, but never parted from his passion,
- He by your hands sent her his diadem.
- Judge of my grief, when tidings came that told
- Too truly of the purpose of the King,
- How Monima his destined bride had taken
- Her journey hither under your protection!
- 'Twas then, ah! odious time, my mother's eyes
- Were open'd to the offers of the Romans.
- Whether in jealous rage at these new nuptials,
- Or to procure me Pompey's pow'rful favour,
- My father she betray'd, and gave to Rome
- The town and treasures to her care entrusted.
- How did my mother's crime affect my feelings?
- No more I saw a rival in my father,
- I thought not of the love his own had cross'd,
- And had no eyes but for my father's wrongs.
- Soon I attack'd the Romans; and my mother,
- Distracted, saw me wounded to the death
- Recovering the place she had surrender'd,
- And with my dying breath cursing her name.
- Since then the Euxine has been free, and so
- Remains; from Pontus to the Bosphorus
- All own'd my father's sway; his fleet victorious
- Found winds and waves its only enemies.
- More I would fain have done; I thought, Arbates,
- To march upon Euphrates to his rescue,
- When I was stunn'd by tidings of his death.
- But mingled with my tears, I will confess it,
- Back to my thoughts came charming Monima,
- Entrusted by my father to your hands.
- In these sad times I trembled for her life,
- Dreading that in his cruel jealousy
- The King, as oft before with many a mistress,
- Might means have taken to secure her death.
- Hither I flew, and 'neath Nymphæum's walls
- My anxious eyes encounter'd Pharnaces,
- A sight, I trow, of evil augury.
- You received both of us, and know the rest.
- Hasty in all his actions, Pharnaces
- Of his presumptuous wishes made no secret,
- Related to the Queen my father's ruin,
- And, since the King was dead, offer'd himself
- To fill his place; nor will his deeds fall short
- Of words. I too will show what I can do.
- The love that bade me reverence a sire
- To whom from childhood I have own'd submission,
- This very love, now rising in revolt,
- Scorns the authority of this new rival.
- Either the suit I venture to advance
- Must be by Monima herself rejected,
- Or else, whatever ill may come of it,
- She shall not be another's, while I live.
- Thus have I told the secrets of my heart;
- With you it rests to choose the side you take.
- Which of us seems the worthier of allegiance,
- The slave of Rome, or Mithridate's son?
MORE
MONOLOGUES BY JEAN RACINE |
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