JUP.Yes, you are right, Alcmene; I admit it.This action is unquestionably an odious crime; I do not pretend to justify it longer: yet allow my heart to defend itself in your eyes, and let it reveal to you who is to blame for this insulting fury.To tell you frankly, it is the husband Alcmene, who has done this wrong; it is the husband whom you must blame.The lover has no share in this churlish anger: his heart is not capable of offending you.He has too much respect and affection for you ever to think of it; had he been guilty of the crime of doing aught that could wound you, he would pierce himself with a hundred stabs before your eyes.But the husband has cast aside that humble submission which should always be yours; by his harsh deeds, the husband has made himself known; he thought the rights of marriage allowed him everything.Yes, it is he no doubt who is guilty towards you; he only has ill-treated your lovely person.Hate, detest the husband; I consent to it; I yield him to your mercy; but, Alcmene, spare the lover from the anger which such an offence gives you; do not let him suffer;differentiate between him and the guilty one; and, finally, in order to be just, do not punish him for what he has not done.
ALC.Oh! All these subtleties are but frivolous excuses; such language only annoys incensed minds.In vain do you use these ridiculous prevarications.I do not make any distinction in him who offends me; everything in him becomes the object of my anger, the lover and the husband are alike confounded in its just violence.
Both occupy my thoughts; both are painted in the same colours by my wounded heart.Both are guilty; both have offended me; and both are odious to me.
JUP.Well! Then, since you wish it, I must charge myself with the offence.Yes, you are right, when you sacrifice me as a guilty victim to your resentment.Anger towards me sways you; it is but too just, and all the terrible wrath you show causes me to suffer only lawful torments.It is right you should shun my presence, and in your anger threaten to flee from me everywhere.I must be a detestable object to you; you are right in thinking ill of me.My crime in being offensive in your charming eyes surpasses every horror; it is a crime that offends men and Gods; in short, as punishment for my insolence I deserve that your hatred should vent its utmost upon me.I beg your forgiveness, I beg it upon my knees, I beg it for the sake of the most lively passion, of the tenderest love for you, which has ever been kindled in a human breast.If, charming Alcmene, your heart refuses me the pardon which I have the audacity to seek, then shall a well-aimed stroke put an end to my life, and release me from the harsh severity of a penalty which Ican no longer bear.Yes, this state of things drives me to despair.