Poetical Works of Matthew Arnold - LightNovelsOnl.com
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What do I see?...
_Merope_
A murderer at death's door.
Therefore no words!
_Arcas_
A murderer?...
_Merope_
And a captive To the dear next-of-kin of him he murder'd.
Stand, and let vengeance pa.s.s!
_Arcas_
Hold, O Queen, hold!
Thou know'st not whom thou strik'st....
_Merope_
I know his crime.
_Arcas_
Unhappy one! thou strik'st----
_Merope_
A most just blow.
_Arcas_
No, by the G.o.ds, thou slay'st----
_Merope_
Stand off!
_Arcas_
Thy son!
_Merope_
Ah!...
[_She lets the axe drop, and falls insensible._
_aepytus_ (_awaking_)
Who are these? What shrill, ear-piercing scream Wakes me thus kindly from the perilous sleep Wherewith fatigue and youth had bound mine eyes, Even in the deadly palace of my foe?-- Arcas! Thou here?
_Arcas_ (_embracing him_)
O my dear master! O My child, my charge beloved, welcome to life!
As dead we held thee, mourn'd for thee as dead.
_aepytus_
In word I died, that I in deed might live.
But who are these?
_Arcas_
Messenian maidens, friends.
_aepytus_
And, Arcas!--but I tremble!
_Arcas_
Boldly ask.
_aepytus_
That black-robed, swooning figure?...
_Arcas_
Merope.
_aepytus_
O mother! mother!
_Merope_
Who upbraids me? Ah!...
[_seeing the axe_.
_aepytus_
Upbraids thee? no one.
_Merope_
