Bérénice (1983) - full transcript

Let us stop a moment.

The grandeur of this place

is new to you, Arsaces, as I see,

This chamber splendid

and secluded

Is the depositary
of Titus' secrets.

It's here he often
hides him from his court,

When to the Queen
he comes to speak of love.

This door is next to his chamber;

and this other Leads
to that of the Queen.

Go to her now;



Say, that regrettably importunate, alas,
I dare to beg a secret interview.

You, importunate, my Lord?

You, the faithful friend, Who've
shown such generous concern for her?

You, that Antiochus who loved her once;

You,
one of the great rulers of the East?

What?

Can her hopes of being Titus' wife

Set such a gulf
of rank between you both?

Go, I say; and ask her only this,

That I may see her promptly and alone.

Well then, Antiochus

are you still the same?

Can you tell her
you love her and not tremble?

But look!



I'm trembling now,

my shaking heart takes fright
Before the moment it has craved.

Berenice, long since,
relieved me of all hope.

More, she imposed eternal silence on me.

Five years I have been silent -

And till now the veil of friendship
has disguised my love.

As wife to Titus will she more incline
To hear me than she did in Palestine?

He marries her:

is this what I've waited for, to come
and tell her that I love her still?

Arsace, am I admitted?

My lord, I've seen the Queen

Though it meant struggling
with the ever-surging

Flood of the adoring populace

That her impending greatness
draws behind her.

After eight days of an austere retreat

Titus has done
with mourning his late father.

A lover, he resumes the cares of love.

My lord,
if the word at court's to be believed

Perhaps before tonight Berenice

Will bear the name of Empress instead.

-Alas!
-What?

These words cannot dismay you?

And so I may not speak to her alone?

You'll see her, my lord,

Berenice knows your desire
To meet her here, alone and unattended.

With a mere glance
the Queen conveyed to me

Acceptance of your pressing plea to her.

No doubt she seeks a moment to escape

-The stifling attentions of the court.
-That's good.

Have you meanwhile remembered all

The urgent orders that
I charged you with?

My lord, you know my prompt obedience.

Ships in Ostia are well prepared,
Ready sail from port at any moment,

They only wait
only your orders to depart.

But whom are you
sending home to Comagena?

Arsace, they must depart.
When I have seen the Queen.

-Who must depart?
-Myself.

-You?
-When I leave the palace

I leave Rome, Arsace; and leave forever.

I am surprised, not without cause.

What? It is a long time
since Queen Berenice

Removed you from
the bosom of your country;

Three years ago she stayed
your steps in Rome;

And when this Queen,
now triumphing in love,

Expects you as a witness
of this marriage,

When the loving
Titus, as her groom,

-Prepares a glory for her
which will shine on you... -Arsace,

Let her enjoy her fortune,

And drop a subject
which I find troublesome.

What caprice
makes you an enemy of yourself?

The heavens have set a prince
who loves you on the throne,

A prince who, witness
of your former wars,

Saw you seek death or
glory in his steps,

Whose, valour, seconded by you,

At last crushed the rebel Jews

And he recalls that famous, grievous day

Which finally decided a long siege.

The confident foe upon their triple
ramparts

Looked, without peril, on our vain
assaults;

The battering-ram was

but in vain

You, and you only, my lord,
with ladder in hand,

Bore death aloft on to their
very walls.

That day came close

to seeing your own end:

Titus embraced you dying

in my arms,

The whole victorious camp wept

your demise.

Now is the time, my lord,

you should taste

the fruit of all that blood
of yours they've seen

you shed.

If, urged by desire
to see your country

again,

You're tired of living where you are
not king.

Must Euphrates see you come unhonoured?

Are you returning?

Wait for your departure
now till Caesar

Sends you home. In triumph,
charged with further sovereign titles

Such as the love of Rome still
heaps on kings.

Can nothing change your mind,
my lord?

You do not answer.

What would you have me say?

I await a moment's speech with Berenice.

Well, my lord?

I'll hear how she
explains this marriage.

How so?

If her mouth confirms the public rumour,

If it is true she is being raised
to Caesars' throne,

If Titus is to wed her, I go.

-What makes these vows
so terrible to you?

-When we have gone, I'll tell you all.

My lord, my mind is troubled
by what you have said

The Queen is coming.
Farewell. Do all as I commanded.

At last, I have escaped
too officious joy

Of the new friends
my fortune brings;

I flee their tedious courtesies
To seek a friend who speaks his heart.

I must not lie:
so impatient was I to see you

I had already charged you
with some neglect.

"What!" I said, "this Antiochus,
whose deeds

have Rome and the whole East
to bear witness;

He who has stood by me in all my woes

And shared my steps
in good and evil fortune;

Today, when heaven seems to promise me
An honour that I mean to share with him,

This same Antiochus,
hiding from my sight,

leaves me at the mercy
of an unknown crowd?"?

It's true, then, madam,
as your words imply,

That marriage is to follow
your long courtship?

My lord, I must confide my fears to you

Some tears I've shed
during these last few days

The long mourning which Titus
had imposed at court

Had frozen up his love in private too.

No longer did he show the ardent care
He showed me in our days together.

Silent, laden with cares,
eyes filled with tears,

He had nothing but sad farewells.

Judge then my grief,
who know my yearning soul,

I have told you a hundred times,
loves only him

Had he none of all his greatness now
I'd still seek out his heart and virtue.

Has he now resumed
his first affection for you?

You were a witness
to last night's events

When, in fulfilment of his sacred vows,

The Senate placed his father
among the gods.

This rightful duty done, his piety

Has yielded, my lord,
to duty to his lover.

And at this moment,
without informing me,

He's in the Senate,
met by his order.

There he enlarges Palestine:

he joins Arabia to it,
and all Syria too.

And if I can believe
what his friends say,

if I trust his oaths,
renewed a thousand times,

He'll make me queen
of all these other states,

And to join to many titles
that of Empress.

He is coming here himself
to assure me it's so.

And so I come to bid you
farewell forever.

What are you saying?
Ah, heaven!

What farewell?
What words are these you speak!

Prince, you are troubled
and change your countenance.

Madam, I must depart.

What? May I not know why?

What is the matter?

I should have gone
without seeing her again.

What do you fear?

Speak, you are silent too long.

What is the meaning,
my lord, of your going?

Remember at least
that I obey your command,

And that you hear me now
for the last time.

If in your high degree
of power and glory

You should recall
where you took your birth,

Madam,
you will recall in those lands too

My heart received the dart
of your first glance.

I loved - your brother,
Agrippa, gave his consent.

He spoke to you for me.
And without demur perhaps

You would have accepted
the tribute of my heart,

But Titus, to my misfortune,

came, saw, and won your heart.

He stood before you,
in all the glory of a man

Who carries
Rome's vengeance in his hands

Judaea went pale. The sad Antiochus

Of all the vanquished
knew himself the first.

And soon, severe
diviner of my grief,

Your mouth commanded
mine to silence.

I disputed a long time,
I made my eyes speak;

My tears and sighs
followed you everywhere.

At last your rigor
tipped the scales

imposing exile or silence on me.

I had to promise, and even swear it.

But, since at this moment
I dare speak openly,

When you exacted that cruel oath from me

My heart made a vow
to love you without end.

What are you saying?

For five years Madam, I have been mute,
and I shall soon be silent longer.

I accompanied the
forces of my rival

I hoped to shed my
blood after my tears,

Or else that name might speak to you,

carried by a thousand exploits,
since I could not

Heaven seemed to promise me
an end of pain.

You wept for my, alas uncertain, death.

Vain perils! How great my error!

Titus' valour far
surpassed my own fury.

I had to acknowledge his virtue.

Although expecting, madam,
the empire of the world,

Cherished by the world,
loved, above all, by you,

He seemed
to invite all blows upon himself,

While hopeless,

hated, weary of his life,

His unhappy rival
could but follow him.

I see your heart
applauds me secretly,

I see you hear my words
with less regret,

And that, attentive
to this grim story,

For the sake of Titus
you excuse the rest.

Finally, after a siege
as cruel as slow, he crushed

those final rebels,
a pale and bleeding remnant

From famine, flame
and internecine strife,

And left their ramparts
hidden beneath their ruins.

Rome, madam, saw you enter in with him.

Abandoned in the East,
how great my woe!

I remained a long time
wandering in Caesarea,

Among the dear scenes
of my love for you.

Again I sought you in your sad domains,

I searched, weeping,
in the places where you'd trod.

But finally, succumbing
to my melancholy,

I was driven by despair to Italy;

There fate reserved a
final blow for me.

Titus, embracing me,
led me before you.

A veil of friendship
fooled both you and him;

My love became the confidant of yours.

But still some hope
beguiled my grief;

Rome and Vespasian
opposed your love.

Titus, after so much war,
may have given up.

Vespasian is dead,
and Titus rules is the master now.

Why did I not flee then? I had to see

The first few days
of his new reign unfold.

My fate is settled.
Your triumph is at hand,

There are others enough,
to witness your feast,

Will come to add their joy to your own.

But I, who could share
nothing there but tears,

Too constant victim
of a fruitless love,

But glad to have been
free to tell my tale

Telling my misfortune
to the eyes that made them,

I go, more in love than I ever was.

My lord,

I did not think that on the day

Which must unite
Caesar's destiny with mine

A man lived who could, with impunity,

Could come before me
to declare himself my lover.

For friendship's sake alone
I've heard you out,

And for its sake forget
your reckless words.

And more,
I hear your farewells with regret.

Amid the honours heaven has bestowed

I hoped you'd be witness to my joy.

With all the world,
I praised your qualities;

Much loved by Titus,
you admired him too.

It has been my delight,
a hundred times,

To feel a second
Titus spoke in you.

And that is what I flee.
I shun, too late,

These cruel meetings
in which I have no part.

I flee from Titus,
from his maddening name,

The name your lips
repeat at every moment.

What can I say?

I flee from distracted eyes
Which saw me constantly, but never saw.

Farewell, I go, your image in my heart,

To await, still loving,
the death which is my lot.

You need not fear that my blind pain

Will fill the universe with talk
of my misfortune. Madam,

the death that I most pray for,

Alone will show you I
had lived till then.

Farewell.

I pity him!

Such faithfulness, Madam,
deserved a happier fate.

Do you not pity him?

His prompt departure

Gives me, I confess, a secret sorrow.

I would have made him stay.

I make him stay?

No, I should lose all memory of him.

You'd have me humour
such demented love?

Titus has still not
told you of his thought.

Rome sees you, madam, with jealous eyes.
The rigour of her laws makes me afraid.

Romans must marry only Romans here.

Rome hates all kings
and Berenice is a Queen.

Phenice, the moment

for such fears is past.

Great Titus loves me,

he has but to speak.

He'll see the Senate's
bring me homage,

And his own statues
crowned with flowers.

You saw Phenice,
the splendour of last night?

Are not your eyes
full of its brilliance?

That pyre, those torches,

the whole night on fire,

Those eagles, those banners,

the troops, the throng,

That crowd of kings,
the consuls and the Senate,

Who all lent
their acclaim to him I love;

The gold and purple
glorying his state,

And laurels witness
to his victories.

Those eyes, one saw they came
from all the world

To blend
their fervent gaze on him alone.

That noble bearing and that gentle air.

Heavens,

with what respect and willingness

All hearts gave
inward promise of their faith!

Say,
could you see him and not think as I,

That even were his lineage obscure

The world would know
his greatness at a glance?

But Phenice,

where are these sweet
memories leading me.

Yet at this very
moment all of Rome

Makes vows for Titus,
and makes sacrifice

To celebrate
the first fruits of his reign.

Let's run to offer up

our prayers as well,

To heaven that protects him,
for a happy reign.

Then, neither waiting
nor yet waited for,

I will return to find him, and say all

That such long-silenced passion

may inspire

In two hearts each
so contented with each other.

Have you informed the King of Comagena
That I'm waiting for him?

I ran to the Queen's apartment,
Where he was said to be

But he had gone when I arrived

I said to give your
orders to him, my lord.

That's good.
And what word of Queen Berenice?

The Queen,
even now, cognisant of your grace,

Prays to heaven for your prosperity.

I saw her go out, my lord.

Too loveable princess!
Alas!

Why be so sad for her sake?

Soon half the East
will bend beneath her law.

You pity her?

Paulinus, I'll speak with you alone.

While Rome,
still uninformed about my plans,

Waits to learn the destiny of the Queen,

Paulinus, the secrets
of her heart and mine,

Have now become
the talk of all the world.

The time has come when I must speak.

What are they saying
of the Queen and me?

Speak. What have you heard?

On every side,
Praise of your virtues,

my lord,

and of her charms.

What's said about
the sighs I breathe for her?

What do they think will come
from a love so faithful?

You are all powerful.

Love, or love no more.

The court will always stand
behind your vows.

And I myself have seen
this heartless court,

Too eager at all times
to please its masters,

Approve the horrors of Nero's crimes:

I've seen it on its knees
sanctifying his furies.

Idolatrous courtiers
shall never be my judge:

Paulinus, I set myself a nobler stage.

And rather than pay heed to flatterers

I will through your mouth
listen to all hearts.

This was your promise. Respect and fear
Around me shut the path to complaint.

To better see and hear, Paulinus,

I've asked you for your
own eyes and ears.

I've made this a
condition of my love,

I'd have you be
interpreter of hearts,

And your sincerity,
through the ring of flatters,

should always bring me the truth.

Speak then. What does Berenice want?
Will Rome be indulgent or cruel to her?

Ought I to believe so beautiful a queen
On Caesars' throne offends their sight?

Doubt not that Rome,

through reason or caprice,

Does not want her to be their Empress.

It's known she's charming,

and such graceful hands
Seem fit to hold an empire over men.

She even has, it's
said, a Roman heart.

She has great virtues.

But, my lord,
she's a Queen.

Rome, by a law that cannot be repealed,
Allows no foreign blood to join its own,

And will not recognise
the unlawful fruits

Born of a marriage made
against her rules.

Julius,

who first subdued
their power by force,

And drowned out law
with noise of his alarms,

Burned for Cleopatra,
but said nothing,

And let her languish
in the Orient alone.

Antony, who loved her beyond reason,

Forget his glory
and his country in her arms,

Still never dared to name
himself her spouse.

Rome sought him out
and brought him to his knees,

And did not slacken
its revengeful rage

Until it had secured
both lovers' deaths.

Since then, my lord,

Caligula and Nero,

Monsters whose names
I mention with regret,

Who, keeping but the appearance of men,

Crushed every law of Rome
beneath their feet,

Feared still that law,

and never lit the torch
Of a marriage odious in our sight.

You've ordered me to be frank.

The brother of the
freedman Pallas,

Still branded by the irons of Claudius,

We saw, my lord,
become the husband of two queens;

And if I must obey you to he end,

Those two queens
were of Berenice's blood.

And you believe that,
without slight to us,

You'll bring a queen
into our Caesar's bed,

Whilst in the Orient
a slave but lately freed

Pass from our own
to its own queens' bed?

That's what the Romans
think about your love.

I fear before today is out you'll hear

The Senate,

speaking for the whole Empire, Repeat
repeat what I have said to you;

And say Rome itself falls at your feet

And asks that you

should make another choice.

You must, my lord,
decide how you'll answer them.

Alas! how great the love
I should renounce!

That love is ardent,
my lord, I will admit.

A thousand times more so
than you conceive.

It has become my necessary pleasure

To see her every day,
to love her, please her,

I have done more,
I have nothing secret from you -

For her a thousand times
I've thanked the gods

That they had called
my father out of Idumea,

Brought under him the army and the East,
And stirring up the other peoples there

Brought blood-soaked Rome
into his peaceful hands.

I even wanted my father's place,

I, Paulinus, a hundred times,
if fate was less harsh,

Had wished to stretch
to extend his days,

Would have given my days to prolong his:

All this (had ill a lover
knows which he desires!)

In hope of seeing Berenice
upon the throne

to one day recognise
her love and her loyalty.

And seeing at her feet
the world as well as me.

In spite of all my love,
Paulinus, and all her charms,

After a thousand oaths
supported in tears,

Now that I can crown her loveliness,
Now that I adore her more than ever,

When marriage can join our destinies

And pay in a single day
five years of promises,

-I'm going, Paulinus...
Heavens! can I say? -What, my lord?

I'm going to part forever.

What, my lord!

Does this magnificence

Which will extend her power
to the Euphrates,

And all those

abundant honours which
shocked the Senate,

Still leave you to fear
the name of ingrate?

Berenice is made to rule
a hundred peoples.

Weak distractions for so great a grief!

I know Berenice, and know only too well
that her heart has never asked for mine.

I loved her and she me. Since that day

(Alas! should I say fatal day,
or fortunate?),

Having in love no
object but to love,

A foreigner at Rome,
unknown at court,

She's passed her days,
Paulinus, with no claim

Except to see me, or to wait for me.

If sometimes less assiduous I fail
To meet her at the time I'm waited for,

I'll find her drenched
in tears a moment after.

My hand is long busy in drying them.

All that binds most
powerfully in love

Sweet reproaches,
joy ever reborn,

An artless care to please,
fear always fresh,

Beauty, joy virtue: I find all in her.

For five whole years
I've seen her every day,

and always thought I saw her
for the first time.

Come, dear Paulinus: the more I think,

The more I feel
my cruel resolve begin to fail.

O heavens, what news
I have to break to her!

Once more, let's go,
and think no more of this.

I know my duty, and must follow it,
And not consider if I can survive it.

Forgive me, my lord,

if my rash zeal Breaks in
on your private solitude.

When all around me your assembled court

Resounds with talk of benefits
you've loaded on me,

Can it be fair

that I alone remain Silent

and without gratitude?

But, my lord
(I understand this loyal friend

Knows all the mystery
of your heart and mine),

Your mourning is ended,
nothing stays your steps

You are alone at last,
and yet you avoid me.

I hear you'll offer
me a further crown,

But yet I cannot hear you.

Alas! more calm, my lord,
and less of pomp.

Can not your love appear
only in the Senate?

Ah, Titus! love at last
must flee the bonds

Imposed on it by duty and by fear.

What new cares must your love
be burdened with?

Are states the only thing
that it can give me?

When have you thought
greatness touches me?

A sigh, a glance,
one word from your lips -

These are the sole
ambitions of my heart.

See me more often,
and give me nothing.

Are all your moments
devoted to the empire?

Your heart, after eight days,
has nothing to say to me?

How one word would
reassure my fearful spirits!

But did you speak of me
when I surprised you?

Was I the subject of your secret talk?

My lord,
was I with you here at least in thought?

Doubt not, madam,
and the gods bear witness,

That Berenice is ever in my sight.

And neither time, nor absence,
I swear to you again,

Can ever rob you of this doting heart.

What?

you swear to me everlasting love, And
you swear to me with that coldness?

Why call upon the witness of the gods?

You have no need of oaths
to bring me round.

My heart, my lord,
inclines not to disbelieve you,

-I'll believe a simple sigh of yours..
-Madam...

Well, my lord?

But what? Without answering

You turn away,
and seem much confused.

Shall you now give me
only stricken looks?

Does your father's death
still occupy your mind?

-Can nothing ease this devouring grief?

-Would to heaven my father,
alas, still lived!

-How happy I lived then.
-Lord, these regrets

Are true expressions of your piety.

But your tears have
honoured him enough,

You owe to Rome and
glory other duties:

I dare not speak of
my own interest,

Berenice once could comfort you:

You listened to me
once with more delight.

How many evils I have borne for you.

I ceased my weeping
at a word from you!

You mourn a father.
Poor griefs, alas!

And I (the memory makes me tremble)

Would have been torn
from all that I adore,

I,

whose grief and torment you well know
When you leave me even for a moment,

I, who the day you refused to see me.
Would die...

Madam, alas! what are you saying?

Why choose this moment?
Stop, I pray you.

You lavish too much goodness
on an ingrate.

An ingrate, Lord!
How could you be that?

-Perhaps my kindness wearies you?

-No, madam. Never, since
I must speak plain,

Has my heart burned for you
with keener fire.

-But...
-Continue.

-Alas!
-Speak.

-Rome... The Empire...
-Well?

Let's go, Paulinus:
I cannot speak another word to her.

What?

What, leave me so soon,
say nothing to me.

Dear, Phenice, alas!
How baleful an encounter!

What did I do ?

What does he want? And what
does this silence say?

Like you, more I think of it
the more I'm lost.

But is there nothing
you remember, madam,

That might have turned
him so against you?

See, search your thoughts.

Alas! believe me,

The more I seek to
remember the past,

From when I saw him first,
to this sad day,

The more I see I was too much in love.

You heard us.

Now keep nothing from me. Speak. Did
I say nothing to displease him?

How can I know? Perhaps I was too quick

To deprecate his gifts,
and blame his grief.

Or is it that he dreads
the hate of Rome?

He fears perhaps,
he fears to wed a Queen.

Alas! if so...
But no, a hundred times

He's strengthened me
against their cruel laws.

I wish

he would explain so
harsh a silence.

I cannot breathe in
this uncertainty.

Oh, could I live, Phenice,
if I must think

That he neglects me,
or that I've offended him?

Let's after him.
But now I search my thoughts,

I believe I see
the source of this disorder.

He'll know what's happened,

The love of Antiochus
is what offends him.

He is waiting, I am told,
for the King of Comagene

Let's look no further
for my sorrow's cause.

No doubt this new anxiety I feel

Stems from some light suspicion,
easy to soothe.

I take no pride
in this small victory, Titus.

Ah, would to heaven that,
without slighting you,

A more powerful rival
sought to tempt my faith,

Who laid more empires
at my feet than you,

And offered numberless sceptres
for my love,

Whilst you could give me nothing
but your soul;

Then dear Titus, loved,
victorious, you would see

The value that I place upon your heart.

Let's go, Phenice,
a word will be enough.

Be sure, my heart,
that you can please him still.

I ranked myself too
soon among the sad.

If Titus is jealous,
Titus is in love.

Pity my onerous grandeur.

As master of all the world,
I rule its fate.

I can make and unmake kings,
But cannot dispose of my own heart

Rome, at all times
hostile against kings,

Now disdains a lovely
queen born in purple;

Her brightness of her crown
and kingly lineage

Debase my passion and offend all eyes.

If now my heart were free,
then it could choose

To take some low-born love,
without reproach,

And Rome would gladly
welcome from my hand

The least deserving
beauty in its walls.

Julius himself yielded
to this force.

If the Queen does not
leave Rome tomorrow,

Tomorrow she will hear the people come

In rage to ask me to send her
from their sight.

Let's save my name
and hers from such insults.

If we must yield,
then be it to our glory.

My mute lips, and looks,
these eight days past,

Should have prepared her
for these sorry words.

And even now, anxious and eager,
She wants me to explain my thoughts.

To relieve the torment
of a frustrated lover.

Spare my heart the pain of telling her.

Go, explain my grief and silence to her,
And let me above all avoid her.

You be only witness of
her tears and mine.

Take my farewells to
her, and hers to me.

Flee from a deadly sight
which would destroy

The remnant of our constancy.

If hope to reign and
live within my heart

Can soften now the
harshness of her lot,

Ah, Prince! swear to her
that with faithful heart,

Lamenting in my court,
and more exiled than she,

Bearing unto the tomb my lover's name,
My reign shall be an endless banishment,

Should heaven, not
content with taking her,

Torment me further
with a length of days.

You, are attached to
her by friendship,

Prince, do not abandon
her in her distress.

Now let the Orient see
you arrive with her;

And let this be a
triumph, not a flight;

May ties of such fair friendship
be eternal,

And my name sounded always on your lips.

To make your lands
more closer to each other,

Euphrates shall be your common frontier.

I know the Senate,
ringing with your name,

Will with a common voice,
confirm this gift.

I join Cilicia to your Comagene.

Farewell.
Do not desert my love, the Queen,

She was the one desire of my heart,

and I will love her
until I breathe my last.

Thus heaven prepares to do
you justice, my lord.

You will leave, lord,
but with Berenice.

She's not been snatched away,
but delivered.

Arsace, give me time to breathe.

This change is great,
my surprise overwhelming!

Titus puts everything he loves
in my hands!

Do I believe, great gods!
what I have just heard?

And if I believe it, should I rejoice?

How you delight in
torturing yourself!

Was ever a great
heart more feeble?

Open your eyes, my lord,
and let's think, we two,

Of all the reasons Berenice is yours.

Since Titus makes no
further claim on her

The Queen is bound to
marry you instead.

Bound to?

Allow a few days for her tears,

And let
her early weeping run its course.

Then all will speak for you:
spite, revenge,

The absence of Titus, and your nearness,

Three sceptres,
that she cannot wield alone,

Your two states neighbours,
longing to be one.

Interest, reason, friendship,
everything links you.

I breathe, Arsace, you
give me life again.

I joyfully greet so
sweet a prophecy.

Why wait? Let's do what
is expected of us.

Let's go to Berenice,
since we're ordered,

Let's tell her Titus has abandoned her.

But wait.

What was I doing? Is it I,

Arsace, who should perform
this cruel task?

My heart, for love or virtue,
shrinks from it.

Must the fair Berenice
learn from my lips

She's forsaken?
Who'd have dreamt that word

Was one that ever
could be pronounced to you?

Her hate will fall on Titus alone.

My lord, if you speak,
it is at his request.

No, let's not see her.
Let's respect her grief.

Others will come
to tell her of her fate.

Is it not harsh enough
for her to learn

The scorn that Titus
has condemned her to,

Without the further terrible disgrace
Of learning of it from his rival's lips?

Once more, let's flee.
To bring this news to her

Would draw her
lasting hate upon our head.

Here she is, lord: make up your mind.

My lord! you have still not gone?

Madam, I see that you
are disappointed,

And that it was
Caesar you sought.

Blame none but him, if
having said farewell

My presence still distresses you.

Perhaps at this moment
I would be in Ostia,

if he had not forbidden
my exit from his court.

He is looking for you alone:
and he avoids us all.

He only kept me
back only to speak of you.

-And what did he tell you?
-Of me, Prince!

-Madam, yes.
-Suspend your indignation.

And what did he tell you?

Others could tell you better than I can.

What, my lord...

Suspend your indignation.

No doubt others,
far from keeping silence,

Would revel in this moment, and give way

With confidence and joy
to your impatience.

But I, still trembling,
I, to whom you know

O heaven! Your peace of mind
is dearer than my own,

To save that peace
would rather disobey you:

I fear your anger less than your dismay.

Before this

day is out you'll think

-me right.
-Madam, farewell

O heavens! What words! Stay.

I cannot hide my trouble from you.

-Titus
-You see before you a desperate Queen,

Who sick at heart craves
but a word from you.

-You say you fear to break
my peace of mind. -I made it appear.

Your cruel refusals,
far from sparing me,

Excite my grief, my
anger, and my hate.

-Or be of my hatred assured for ever.

-My lord, if my peace of mind's
so precious to you,

If ever I myself was dear to you,

Explain the trouble that you see me in.

What did Titus tell you?

In the gods' name, madam...

What! you fear
so little to displease me?

-If I but speak to you, then you
will hate me. -I order you to speak.

-Gods! what violence! -Madam,
once more, you will praise my silence.

Prince,

you will at once do as I ask, Or
be assured of my hatred for ever.

Madam, after that, I
cannot keep quiet.

You wish it, and you
must be satisfied.

But don't deceive yourself.

I shall announce
Misfortunes that you dare not think.

I know your heart.

You must expect me to strike
where it is tenderest.

-Titus ordered me...
-What?

To say to you
That you and he must separate for ever.

Separate? Who? Titus from Berenice?

I must speak justly of him to you.

All that in a sensitive
and generous heart

Wrung by despairing love,
can hold of horror,

I've seen in his.
He weeps, he worships you.

But what good can
loving you do him now?

A queen is suspect
to the Roman Empire

You must separate, you leave tomorrow.

After so many vows, Titus abandoned me!

No, I don't believe you.
But be it true or false

Take care for ever to avoid my sight.

Am I deluded too?
Did I hear aright?

I should keep myself
out of her sight!

I surely will.

Was I not going hence, Till Titus
held me back against my wish?

I must indeed depart. Come, Arsace.

She thought to wound me,
but her hate's a blessing.

Before, you saw me
troubled and distraught:

I went away in love,
jealous, despairing;

And now, Arsace,
after this defense,

I may leave with indifference.

Now less than ever, my lord,
should you depart.

What? Stay here to
see myself despised?

To answer for the
Titus' coldness?

And take the punishment
that's due to him?

With what injustice

and contempt for me
She doubts my word before my very eyes!

Titus loves her, she
says, and I am false?

Ingrate! to charge me
with such treachery.

And then at what a time!

The fatal hour When I evoked
for her my rival's tears,

And to console her made him still appear
More true and loving than perhaps he is.

And with what cares, my lord,
will you load yourself?

Leave this torrent time to flow away.

In a week, in a month,
it's sure to pass.

Only remain.

No, I am leaving her, Arsace.

Phenice does not come!

O cruel time, How dilatory
you seem to my swift wishes!

I am agitated, I run,
languid, dejected;

Strength abandons me,
and repose kills me.

Phenice does not come?

Ah! how this delay Appals my
heart with terrible foreboding!

Phenice will have
no word to bring to me.

Titus, the ungrateful Titus
did not want to hear her

He flees, he escapes my just fury.

Dear Phenice, well
Did you see the emperor?

What did he say? Will he come?

Yes, I saw him, Madam,

and described

your plight to him.

I saw him shed tears

he had rather hide.

Is he coming?

Doubt not, madam,

he's going to come.

But must he see you

in wild disarray?

Calm yourself, madam,

and regain your poise.

Let me

arrange these sundered
veils for you,

And these stray locks
that half conceal your eyes.

Let me amend

the ravage of your tears.

Let be, let be, Phenice,
he will see his work.

Well, Titus, and what now?

Berenice awaits.
What rashness brings you here?

Are your farewells prepared?
Are you resolved?

Has your heart cruelty enough for this?

For in the fight that's
coming, constancy

Will count for little,
I must be barbarous.

Can I withstand those eyes
whose gentle gaze

Will always find the way to my heart?

And when I see those eyes,
in all their charm,

Hold mine and overwhelm me
with their tears,

Shall I remember
my sad duty still,

And say, I will not
see you any more?

I pierce a loving heart that I adore,
who loves me.

And why pierce it?
Who orders it? I myself.

Indeed has Rome
yet made its wishes known?

Do we hear shouting
round the palace walls?

And do I see the state
perched on the brink?

Must I make this sacrifice to save it?

All's quiet - I alone,
to wound myself,

Advance misfortunes
that I might dispel.

Who knows if,
seeing the virtues of the queen,

Rome might not feel moved
to call her Roman too?

Rome by its choice
can justify mine.

No, no, once more, do
not rush anything.

Let Rome still weigh
in balance with its laws

Such love, such tears,
and such perseverance,

Rome will be for us.

Titus, look, and see.

What air is this you breathe?
Are you not here,

Where hate for kings
is suckled at the breast

And cannot be expunged by love or fear?

When Rome condemned its kings
it judged your queen.

You heard its voice
the moment you were born.

Have you not heard too
the voice of fame

Announce your duty even
among your troops?

Since Berenice returned to Rome with you

Have you not heard
its judgement of her too?

Need you be told
these things so many times?

Coward! renounce the Empire,
live for love.

Go to the world's end,
run and hide yourself,

And give way to hearts
more worthy to reign.

Are these the plans
of greatness and renown

To make your memory
hallowed in all breasts?

For the last eight days I have reigned;
and until now,

What have I done for honor?
I did everything for love.

What can I show
for such a precious time?

Where are those glad days
I was waiting for?

What tears have I yet dried?
In what contented eyes

Have I yet read the proof
of my good deeds?

And has the great world
changed its destiny?

The sum of days heaven
grants me is unknown,

With what intent, my
lord, has she gone?

Is she finally ready to leave?

Paulinus, I am lost, I cannot survive.

The Queen wants to die.
We must follow her.

-Let's save her.
-What, my lord! did you not order

Just now a guard
to watch and follow her.

Her women
clustered round her at all times

Know how to divert her
from these sad thoughts.

No, no, do not worry.

These are the greatest
blows, My lord:

keep on, and victory is yours.

I know you'll not have
heard her without pity;

I couldn't help but feel for her myself.

But my lord, look further on.

Think in your grief

What glory will follow a moment of pain,

What vast applause
the world prepares for you,

What far renown.

No, I'm a barbarian.

I hate myself. The much-detested Nero
Did not push cruelty to this excess.

I cannot suffer Berenice to die.

Let's go, and Rome say
what it will of me.

What, my lord?

I don't know what I'm saying.
The excess of pain overwhelms my wits.

You must not disturb

the course of your fame

Already
word of your farewells has spread.

Rome, which lately trembled,

rightly triumphs.

Smoke rises
from the altars in your name.

The people
laud your virtues to the skies

And deck your statues' brows
with laurel crowns.

Ah Rome! Ah Berenice!

Ah unhappy prince!

Why am I emperor?
Why am I in love?

What have you done, my lord?

Sweet Berenice
Will die perhaps in her Phenice's arms.

She hears neither tears,
nor advice, nor reason;

She begs with great cries
for steel and poison.

You, you alone can save her
from that desire.

Your name is spoken,
and she lives again.

His eyes, always turned
towards your room,

Seem to ask you from
moment to moment.

The sight destroys me,
I can bear no more.

What are you waiting for?
Go, show yourself to her.

Save such great virtues,
graces, beauty,

Or else renounce, my
lord, all humanity.

Say a word.

No, leave me, I tell you.

Your efforts to retain
me here are vain.

I have to see him.

Ah, Lord! Here you are.

Well, is it true that Titus abandons me?

We must separate.
And it is he who orders it.

Madam, do not destroy
an unfortunate prince;

We must not stir
our pity for each other.

The woe that agitates me
and devours me's cruel enough

Without your tears so dear
to rend me more.

Rather, summon up
that heart that often

Has made the voice
of duty plain to me.

I need it now.
Compel your love to silence,

And with the eye of glory and reason

Regard my duty in its
sternest rigour.

Fortify my heart
against yourself.

Help me surmount my
weakness, if you can,

Help me to stem my
ever-flowing tears.

Or, if we can not
command our tears,

Let the glory at least
support our grief,

And let the world
acknowledge to the full

Tears of an emperor
and the tears of a queen.

Because my princess,
finally we must part.

Ah cruel!
Is this the time to tell me so?

What have you done?
I thought that I was loved.

My soul accustomed
to the joy of seeing you.

Lives but for you.

Did you not know your laws,

When I declared myself
for the first time?

To what excess of love
have you not led me?

Why did you not say then:
"Unfortunate princess,

Where do you fix your love,
what are your hopes?

Don't give a heart
that cannot be received."

Did you receive it but to give it back,

Cruel man,
when it longed to be yours alone?

The Empire often threatened us before.

There was still time.
Why not forsake me then?

A thousand reasons
might have solaced me.

I could have blamed
your father for my death,

Blamed Rome, the Senate,
the Empire itself,

The whole world,
rather than your dear hand.

Their hate so long made manifest to me
Had long prepared me for unhappiness.

Thus I would not have
had this cruel blow

Now, when my hopes are
set on lasting joy,

When your love can do
all that it desires,

When Rome is silent,
and your father dead,

And the whole universe
bows at your feet,

Finally when I have
nothing to fear but you.

And it's only me
who could destroy myself.

Then I could live,
I could deceive myself.

My heart was careful not to run ahead

To seek what might
one day force us apart.

I wanted nothing to resist my will,

I studied nothing,
I hoped for the impossible.

Who knows?
I hoped to die before your eyes,

Before coming to those cruel farewells.

The obstacles seemed to renew my love.

The whole empire spoke;
but glory, madam,

Had not yet spoken to me in my heart
In words such as it speaks to emperors.

I know what torments
I now bring upon me.

I do not know how
I shall live without you;

I feel my heart itself
departing from me.

But living's done with now,
and I must reign.

Reign, then, cruel man,
enjoy your glory!

I'll plead no more.
I'd waited, to be certain,

Until that mouth
that swore a thousand vows of love

that must unite us for all time,

Should swear itself
untrue before my eyes,

And order my eternal banishment.

I had to hear you in this place myself.

I'll hear no more,
and now farewell for ever.

For ever!

Ah, my lord, do you not feel The
terror of that word to one who loves?

In a month, in a year,

How shall we bear, my lord
Our sundering across so many seas?

Or that the day begin

again and end

Without Titus ever seeing Berenice,

Nor all the livelong day can I see Titus

How great my error,
and how vain my cares!

Consoled for my departure in advance,

The wretch will hardly count
the days I'm gone.

To me so long,
to him they'll seem too short.

I will not have, madam,
to count so many days.

Soon, madam, I expect that sad report

Will make you see
that you were loved indeed.

You'll learn that Titus
could not live without...

Ah my lord! if that is true,
why do we separate?

I do not speak to you
of a happy marriage vow:

Has Rome said
we must never see each other?

Why must you envy me
the air you breathe?

Madam, alas! do as you wish. Stay,

I'll not prevent it.
But I feel my weakness.

I'll have to fight
and fear you at all times,

Always be watchful to restrain my steps,

Which your charms
always will draw back to you.

What?
Even now, my heart forgets itself

And knows
of nothing but its love for you.

Well, then, my lord,
and what could come of it?

Do you see the Romans ready to rise?

Who knows
how they will take this insult?

If they speak out,
if murmurs turn to shouts,

Must blood be shed to justify my choice?

If they keep silent, madam,
and betray their laws,

To what do you expose me?

At what cost Of future favour
is their patience bought?

What might they not
then dare demand of me?

Will I maintain laws
which I can not keep?

You set at nought the tears of Berenice!

Set them at nought!
Ah! heavens! How unjust!

Why plunge yourself into unending pain

For cruel laws
that you yourself could change?

Rome has its rights, my lord.
Have you not yours?

Or are its needs
more sacred than our own?

Say, speak.

Alas! How you tear me in two!

You are an emperor, my lord,
and yet you weep?

Yes, madam, it is true, I weep, I sigh,

I tremble.

Yet, when I assumed the throne

Rome made me swear
to maintain its rights

I must uphold them.
More than once has Rome

Put to the test its
rulers' constancy.

Ah! if you went back
to the city's birth

You'd see them always
humbled to its will.

One jealous of his
name runs to his foes

To seek the painful
death awaiting him.

One banishes his own
victorious son.

Another, with a dry, indifferent eye,

Condemns his own two sons
and sees them die.

Unhappy man!
But fatherland and fam

Have always been Romans spur to victory.

I know that Titus,
in leaving you,

May well surpass their
great austerity;

That they cannot approach
this great attempt.

But, madam, do you think I am unworthy

To leave examples to future ages,

That none without great
pains may imitate?

No,

I think everything
is easy to your barbarity.

I think you fit
to tear my life from me.

Your every feeling
is now clear to me.

I speak to you no
more of staying here.

Who? I?

Could I have wished,
shameful and despised,

To bear a hostile people's ridicule?

I had to hear this last rebuff from you.

It's done,
and soon you will not fear me anymore.

Do not expect from me
a burst of insults,,

Or cries to heaven,
the enemy of perjurers.

If heaven mark my
weeping as I die,

I pray it will
forget my suffering.

If I cry out at your
injustice, my lord,

If on the brink of
death sad Berenice

Seeks some revenge
upon you for her end,

She seeks it only in
your inmost heart.

I know such great love
can't be purged from it,

And that my present pain,
and my goodness,

My blood, which I shall spill
within these walls,

Are enemies enough to leave you with.

Without repenting my perseverance
I look to them for my entire revenge.

Farewell.

-My lord, the Queen's leaving.
-Leaving?

This very night.

Her orders have been given.
She's offended

That Titus
leaves her to her tears so long.

Her anger's given
way to noble scorn:

Berenice renounces Rome,

and Titus too,

And seeks to leave
before Rome learns of it,

And sees her turmoil
and enjoys her flight.

I come, my heart pierced
by your tears and hers,

To calm these sufferings
less cruel than my own.

Come, Prince, come:
I'd have you see yourself,

And for the final time, if I love her.

No, I'll hear nothing.
I am quite resolved:

I wish to leave.
Why show yourself to me?

Why come again to aggravate my despair?

Are not you happy?
I do not wish to see you.

But, please, listen.

There's no more time.

-Madam, A word.
-No.

How she torments my soul!

My princess, where does
this sudden change come from?

It's done. You want
me to leave tomorrow,

and I have decided
to leave at once -

-I go.
-No, stay.

Ingrate! You'd have me stay?

And why?
To hear insulting people make

These walls resound
with noise of my distress?

Do you not hear it too, that cruel joy,
While all alone I drown in my own tears?

What crime or what offence
has roused them so?

Alas!
And what did I do but love you too well?

Madam, I now
must make you a true confession.

When I considered the dreadful moment

When driven by laws of strict duty

I was bound for ever
to give up seeing you;

When I foresaw
this sad farewell's approach,

My fears, my struggles,
your tears, your reproaches,

I steeled my soul to every suffering
The worst misfortune can inflict on us.

Whatever I then feared,
I tell you now,

I had planned only
the least part.

I thought my virtue
less inclined to yield,

And am ashamed to see it fall so low.

I found before me all
of Rome assembled.

The Senate spoke to me.
In my dismay

I listened without hearing,

and repaid Their every rapture
with a frozen silence.

Rome remains uncertain
of your fate.

And I each moment
find myself in doubt

If I'm a Roman or an emperor.

I came to you not
knowing my intent.

My love dragged me; and I came perhaps
To find myself, and know myself.

What have I found?

I see death in your eyes.

I see you'll go from
here to seek it out.

It is too much.
My sorrow, at this sad sight,

has finally reached its final limit.

I feel the worst that can be felt

But I see the way by
which I can go out.

Do not suppose that,
tired of this disquiet,

I mean to dry your tears
with wedding vows.

To whatever end you have reduced me,
My glory still pursues me ceaselessly.

It shows my dazed soul at every turn

That power and love
may not be reconciled,

And tells me that,
my brave commitments made,

Now less than ever should I marry you.

And, madam, even less should I declare
That I'm prepared to give the Empire up

And follow you, contented in my chains,
To sigh my life away at the world's end.

You'd blush yourself
at such a craven course.

You'd rue the sight,
among your followers,

Of a base emperor,
without court or power,

Vile spectacle of the
slavery of love.

To escape the torments
preying on my soul

There is, as you must
know, a nobler way;

It is a way I have been shown myself
By Romans and by heroes more than once,

That when too many
woes had wearied them,

Each understood the
grim perseverance

With which fate was resolved
to hunt them down

As a mute order to resist no more.

If still your tears must flow
to grieve my sight,

If I must see you still resolved to die,

If I must tremble
each moment for your life,

And you'll not swear
to respect its course,

Madam, you must expect
a new cause for weeping.

There's nothing I am not prepared to do,

And it may be you'll see this very hand

Bathe our fearful
last farewells in blood.

Alas!

No, there is nothing I cannot do.

There, now my life
is wholly in your hands.

Think, madam, think.
And if I'm dear to you...

Come, Prince, come,
I sent to look for you;

Be witness to my
every weakness here.

See if I love with too
scant tenderness.

-Judge me.
-I am convinced. I know you both.

But you must know me too in your turn.

You've honoured me, my lord,
with your regard,

And I, I swear to you without deceit,

Have fought to stand
among your closest friends,

Even to the lavishing of my blood.

You've both in spite
of me confided in me,

The Queen her love for you,
you yours for her.

Let her, who hears me,
say it was not so.

She saw me, ever
ardent in your praise,

Repay your confidence
in all I did.

You feel you owe me
gratitude for this.

But my lord, could you suppose
at this dark hour

So true a friend to be your rival too?

My rival!

It is time you knew the truth.

My lord, I have always
worshipped Berenice.

A hundred times
I've fought to love her less.

Though I could not forget her,
I kept silence.

Signs of a seeing change of heart in you
Had given me at least some feeble hope.

The tears of the queen
extinguished this hope.

Her eyes,
bathed in tears, begged to see you.

I came, my lord, to call for you myself.

You have come back.
You love, and you are loved;

You have surrendered,
that I cannot doubt.

For the last time I
questioned myself.

I put my courage to a final test,

I summoned up my
greatest powers of mind.

Never have I been more in love than now.

It would take greater strength
to break such ties.

My death alone destroys them.
I run to it.

There,
I have told you all I came to say.

Yes, madam, I have
led him back to you.

I ma successful. I do not repent.

May heaven pour on you
your years together

A thousand blessings.

Or if it harbour further anger for you
I charge the gods to empty all the blows

That might endanger
your most precious life

On those sad days I
sacrifice to you.

Stop, stop. All too generous princes.

In what a plight you cast me,
both of you!

Whether I look at you, or him,

The image of despair
is all I see.

I see only tears.
And I hear you speak only

Of trouble, of horrors,
of blood about to flow

My heart is known to you, my lord:
no man can say

That it was ever heard
to sigh for empire;

Roman grandeur and the Caesars' purple

Have never been my dream,
as you well know.

I loved,

my lord. I loved and wanted to be loved.

Today, I will confess it,
I've been afraid.

I thought your love was ended.

I know my error,
and that you love me still.

Your troubled heart,
your flowing tears.

Berenice, my lord,
is not worth such disquiet,

Nor that the sad
world by your love,

When Titus has prayers of all

And that it tastes
the first fruits of your virtues

Should be starved
in a moment of its delights

I think that for five years,

until this last day,

I have have assured you of true love.

That is not all,

I mean at this tragic time

By one last effort
to crown all the rest.

I will live,
I will follow your absolute commands.

Farewell, lord, rule:

I shall not see you more.

Prince, after this farewell,
you'll understand

I cannot leave the one I love

To hear another
suitor far from Rome.

Live, and make a generous effort.

To rule your conduct
by Titus and by me.

I love him and I flee him.

Titus loves me and leaves me.

Take your sighs and chains

far from my sight.

Farewell:

let's all serve as an
example to the world

Of the tenderest and
most unhappy love

Of which sorrowful
tale may be recorded

All is ready.

They await me now.
Do not follow my steps.

For the last time,
my lord, farewell.

Alas!