Amelia

Voltaire

• Publisher: Start Publishing LLC
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN: 9781627932974
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

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.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Duke of Foix, Lisois.

Duke: The day is ours; thanks to thy friendly hand That guided my rash youth; thy noble soul, In peace or war, is my best counsellor.

Lisois: The glorious fire that animates thy heart Must always conquer, when ’tis checked by prudence, As here it was: preserve this happy virtue, ’Twill make thee happy, and ’twill make thee great; The coward is restless, but the hero calm.

Duke: How is the lover? can he ever taste Of sweet tranquillity? But say, my friend, This unknown chief, that mounted on our ramparts, And with his single arm so long suspended The doubtful victory: I grow jealous of him: Where is he? what became of him?

Lisois: Surrounded By slaughtered friends, alone long time he stood, And braved opposing legions; but what most Surprised us, when at length he had escaped From every danger, wondrous to relate! He yielded up himself a prisoner to us; Conceals his rank and name, accuses heaven, And begs for instant death. One friend alone Attends him, and partakes his sorrows.

Duke: Lisois, Who can this bold, this fearless soldier be? He wore his beaver down: some secret charm O’erpowered my trembling soul when I opposed him. Whether this fatal passion that enslaves me Hath spread its weakness o’er each faculty, And left the soft impression on my soul, Or that my bleeding country’s voice alarmed This conscious heart, and silently reproached me.

Lisois: As for the weakness of thy soul, advice I know were vain, but sure thy country’s voice May still be heard; now is the time to show The greatness of thy soul, and give us peace. Fortune, that smiled on us to-day, perhaps May frown to-morrow, and thy pride be forced To sue for pardon to a haughty foe. Since thou art happy, and Amelia’s thine, Now rest thy glory on the common cause, This brave unknown may forward our designs; Let us improve the lucky moment.

Duke: Yes, My friend, I will do all to serve Amelia, Her cause is mine: I must prepare the minds Of my brave followers for the change; to thee, And to thy happy counsels, every bliss, Glory and peace, and hymeneal joys, To thee I owe, to friendship and to love.

SCENE II.

Lisois, Vamir and Emarat the Farther End of the Stage.

Lisois: It is the noble prisoner, and his friend, If I mistake not: this way they advance; He seems o’erwhelmed with deep despair.

Vamir: O heaven! Where am I? whither dost thou lead me?

Lisois: Stranger, Whoe’er thou art, be comforted; thy fate Hath thrown thee into noble hands: thou’lt find A generous master, who can see desert Even in a foe: may I not ask thy name?

Vamir: I am a poor abandoned wretch, the sport Of fortune, one whose least affliction is To be a captive, and from every eye Would wish to hide the story of my fate: It is enough to be supremely wretched, Without this cruel witness of my woe: Too soon my name and sorrows will be known.

Lisois: Respect is due to misery like thine; I will not urge thee further, but retire: Perhaps even here thy soul may find relief In generous treatment, and a milder fate.

SCENE III.

Vamir, Emar.

Vamir: A milder fate! I must not hope for it: O I have lived too long.

Emar: Thank heaven, my lord, That we are fallen amongst such noble foes, And shall not groan beneath a stranger’s power.

Vamir: No yoke sometimes so galling as a brother’s.

Emar: But you were bred together, and the ties Of tenderest friendship linked your hearts.

Vamir: They did: But O the friendship of our early years Soon takes its flight: he loved me once, and still This heart retains a brother’s kindness for him: I cannot hate him, though he conquered me.

Emar: He knows not yet how great a captive comes To grace his triumph; knows not that a brother Is in his power, whom vengeance had inspired.

Vamir: No: Emar, never did a thought of vengeance Enter my heart; a different passion swayed The soul of Vamir: can it be, just heaven! Or is it but the lying voice of fame, That my Amelia’s false, that she has broke Her solemn vows? for whom, too? added guilt To her, and double sorrow to thy friend! The sacred laws of nature, and the ties Of tender love, all broken, all betrayed! Unjust, inhuman brother!

Emar: Knows he then How dear a treasure he hath robbed thee of In thy Amelia? did not Vamir say That he was still a stranger to thy love?

Vamir: But she is not: she knows what solemn ties, What strict engagements, bound us to each other: That at the altar, ere we had confirmed Our mutual vows, the barbarous Moor rushed in, And tore her from me; the base ravishers Escaped my vengeance, and my happier brother Enjoys the precious treasure Vamir lost Ungrateful woman! came I here, my friend, But to reproach her? what will it avail? She will not listen to my fond complaint: But to my royal master I have lived A faithful servant, and to false Amelia, And faithful will I die: when she shall know How well I loved her, she may shed a tear, And in a brother’s arms lament my fate.

Emar: Repress thy sorrows; see, the duke approaches.

Vamir: Be still, my heart.

SCENE IV.

Duke of Foix, Vamir, Emar.

Duke: This mystery alarms me: But I must see this noble captive: ha! He turns aside with horror.

Vamir: Hateful life! Must I support thee still? must I again Behold the

faithless wretch?

Duke: What do I hear?

Vamir: Dost thou not know me?

Duke: Ha! my brother! Vamir!

Vamir: Alas! too sure I am that wretched brother, Thy vanquished foe, a poor

abandoned captive.

Duke: Thou art my brother still, and I forgive thee; But ’tis most strange, and most unnatural: Could the king find no instrument but thee To execute his

vengeance on my head? What had I done to Vamir?

Vamir: Made his life Unhappy: would that thou hadst taken it from me!

Duke: Dreadful effects of civil strife!

Vamir: More dreadful Are the deep wounds that pierce the heart of Vamir.

Duke: Against another foe I might have shown A soldier’s courage, but I pity

thee.

Vamir: Pity thyself, the wretch who has betrayed His country, and deceived the king that loved him; A traitor, and unworthy of thy race.

Duke: Brand me not, Vamir, with opprobrious name Of traitor, lest I should forget myself, And spurn thee for the insult: no, my brother, I’m not that base,

ungrateful wretch thou thinkest me; Thou seest me ready to restore fair peace, And heal the wounds of my divided country.

Vamir: Thou heal our...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
• ACT I.
• ACT II.
• ACT III.
• ACT IV.
• ACT V.