 | John The Baptist, Or, The Valour of The Soul |  |
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ACT III.
SCENE I.
Festal Hall in the Palace of King Herod.Herod, Herodias, Lords, Ladies, High Captains, and Chief Estates of Galilee seated at supper. Roman Music.
Herodias.
Fill the King's cup again!
Herod.
'Tis not yet empty!
(The King laughs.)
Thy joy is like a new and prodigal summer
That giveth not due time from flower to fruit,
But forceth consummation.
Herodias.
Then, fill all—
To the King's birthday!
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Nay, 'twas drank before!
Herodias.
His future birthdays!
Herod.
(Laughing)
Still, in life's advance!
[All drink to the King. Trumpets. Herodias brims Herod's goblet. Music of the psaltery, sackbut, harps, and cymbals.
Herodias.
Listen!—'tis for a wondrous dancing-girl!
Herod.
I guess her name—I have heard much of her,
As matchless in the dance. It is thy daughter.
Herodias.
'Tis Seminuda!—vestal of the sun!
Herod
(with delight).
Let Phœbus part with her a little while!
Where is she?—wherefore comes she not? Send for her!
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(rising hastily).
I—I will go for her! (aside)
'Twere best she came
Without me, and my promptings be not seen.
[Exit Herodias.
Herod.
My birthday should be rich as autumn's lap
With flowers and fruit. Bring more—bring heaps—
And bring, besides, the wine of my first youth!
Slaves bring in additional vases with flowers; golden chargers heaped up with fruits; and urns of incense. Dance-music as before.
The King falls into a delirium, as the colours of the incense are varied with the movements of the dance-music.
Herod.
I see a dazzling platform in the sun,
Whereon a virgin of the temple dances!
Ha! 'tis a vision!—wherefore comes she not?
My blood's on fire! where is reality?
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SCENE II.
Bed-chamber of Salome, in a wing of the Palace, as before. Herodias, undressing Salome.Herodias
(wildly).
Now! now! my shrinking girl!
Salome.
What would you do?
Herodias.
Make you a true Terpsichore!
Salome.
But not
Like Greek or Roman statuary?
Herodias.
No—no!
Leave all to me. I understand the King.
Salome.
But I am now quite naked!
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Take this veil!
This flying cloud! Hold out your wrists!—these bracelets!
The jewelled anklets now! That's well. Now fold thee
I' the lustrous serpent volumes of this scarf.
The King is mad for thee!—begone! and dance!
(Thrusts Salome out.)
Herodias
(gasping for breath).
Stoney-eyed wife and sister, how is it with thee?
And ‘concubine,’ he called me! Very soon
Herod will shower rich gifts—he will grant anything
To the enchantress.
(Dance music heard from the hall.)
Ha! the harp and flute!
Sackbut and cymbals!—now the tambourine
Beats at the heart and spins around the brain!
Now I behold my glorious naked one!
Yet not all naked—I'm too wise for that—
How the witch dances! Ha! ha! Seminuda!
She was well named, I know; for madness breeds
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That's well! I love the changes of the dance!
Oh, it is wondrous beautiful, my girl!
My grace—my limbs—my glancing mysteries—
My jewelled anklets—rich breasts—showers of hair!
Oh, I will kiss my beautiful one all over,
And with fond bites of transport cover her!
SCENE III.
The Festal Hall, as before. Salome dancing, with a tambourine in one hand, and amidst clouds of incense of changeful colours.Herod
(in a wild rapture).
The priestess of Sol's Temple now hath sent
A goddess clad in nought but odorous clouds
To madden each delight! No more! no more!
Yet cease not—cease not—my brain whirls!—no more!
Her flying locks were golden! now they change
To gilded black, shot with a lightning blue!
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Her limbs are roseate, and a sparkling dew
Besprays her symmetry, as from the sea
Her feet came plashing thro' the bright-edged foam!
I say, no more! Oh, I do swear to give thee
Whatever thou shalt ask, thou wondrous sprite!
Yea, to my kingdom's half—hear it, ye Gods!
Ye great Lords, Captains all—all hear the King!
[Salome retires amidst clouds of incense, and the clash of cymbals.]
First Lord.
She could not answer—'tis too high a gift.
(Aside)
What emeralds!—pearls!
Second Lord.
(Aside)
The King hath lost his wits!
Herod.
Now breathe soft Lydian flutes with sweet accord
Of voice and dulcimer! I'll drink no more,
But let the fumes of wine give music shapes.
And visions of such forms as now we saw
Multiplied, passion-varied, intervolvent limbs!
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SCENE IV.
Marble bath-room, in the Palace. Enter Salome half-fainting.Salome.
Why was the King so wrought upon? what spell
Can a girl's dance enkindle, thus to madden
Into such promises?
[She walks up to a mirror, and prepares for the bath.]
And swear—methought—
Unto the half of's kingdom, he would give me . . . .
Herod did swear! What shall I ask of him?
Enter Herodias, (with a triumphant air).
Herodias.
Witch! larks-heel! now will I kiss thy feet, thou wonder!
Salome.
Have I done so very well?
Herodias.
Oh, matchless well!
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You heard King Herod's promise?
Herodias.
Yes—yes—yes!
Salome.
What shall I ask?
Herodias
(fiercely.)
The head of John the Baptist!
Salome
(in dismay).
The head of—Oh, my mother! What, the head
Of John!—
Herodias.
I say his head—brought in a charger!
Salome
(shuddering).
But what to do—with that fast-bleeding gift?
Herodias.
To roll before the dogs of Galilee!
Or toss into the Jordan—for self-baptism!
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Oh mother!—Oh, I cannot!
Herodias
(with passion).
But you must!
We are not safe while that head holds its place.
Think of the insults, barb'd—and poison'd too;
Think of his daring threats against King Herod—
My husband—thy step-father—of the danger
To his rule here in Galilee—his life—
My life—nay, all our lives;—and think besides,
Of this great moment for a perfect vengeance,
Which ne'er may fall again! My will is fix'd.
Ask nothing else, but that forthright they bring thee
The head of John the Baptist in a charger!
Salome
(in dismay).
How—how shall I find words for this? My mouth
Will open without speech!
Herodias
(furiously).
Look in my face!
And gather words, like lightning on the wall
Whereon a dazzling scrawl writes—‘half a kingdom!’
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But this is of Death's kingdom!
Herodias.
And life's safety
For all of us. Jewels in heaps—but first
That mortal ruby!
Salome
(starting).
Oh, you strip all off!
I am again unclothed!
Herodias.
No, no, this veil!
Fold thee within its lustrous serpent-volumes!
And now return!—begone, I say!—and ask!
[Exit Salome.]
Herodias
(gasping for breath).
I, too, lose speech! O, burning tears of joy!
Speak for me, scalding fountains of the grove
Where Vengeance stalks in hopes to meet the ghost
Of him she hath destroyed.
[Voices from the hall]
Ha! she has asked!
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Enter Herod (in great trouble).
Herod.
What hath thy daughter asked? why hast thou caused her
To crave this thing? I do repent mine oath.
The fumes of wine are driven o'er towers and fields
By sudden gusts of thought. Curs'd be that dance!
Jephtha was wrong in keeping his rash vow:
'Twere good he had considered which was worse—
To keep it, or to break it;—and 'twas worse
To keep it. Many do believe and follow
This Prophet John. I have observ'd him well—
As a just man, and holy—and have heard
Much of his teaching, and have thought it good—
Heeding, in some sort, his reproof of us:—
Albeit, I would not have that known. Thy mænad
Should ask for something else.
Herodias
(rising solemnly).
She shall do so.
Herod.
What would she have?
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I care not—but I know
Thou wilt repent the change.
Herod.
What should I fear?
Herodias.
The Gods, by whom you swore.
Herod.
I will consult the priests.
Herodias.
And fear besides
Great Cæsar's anger. Heard not thine own guards
What this man said of all the race of Cæsars!—
Of all the Cæsars, and their tetrarch apes—
Those were his words. Bethink thee of thy crown—
Not half thy kingdom, but the whole of it!—
Thy life—and of thy royal oath before
Those who sat with thee at thy birthday feast,
Who should not deem thy sceptre and thyself
A trembling shadow and a mockery!
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All this is true.
Herodias.
Come back with me to the Hall.
(Aside)
The King turns pale: Check—check—and I shall win.
Herod.
I am exceeding sorry for mine oath.
Herodias
(dolefully).
And I—and I;—but the Gods heard you swear!
And all the lords and captains of the court!
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Dungeon in the Castle of Machærus (west of the Dead Sea), with iron grating for window. John seated on a stone slab.John.
Nights creep on nights, and here they hold my life
Pending the pleasure of the wicked queen—
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Through these black walls, of gracious miracles done
By my exalted brother. As for me,
No miracles I wrought, for I was only
A Voice from Heaven, that cried to evil doers
Repent!—repent! But he who crieth now
Will long be heard, when John hath passed away.
I was appointed to a certain work,
And some of it is done. Much—much remains,
But not for me: a greater hand must do it.
Last night there came an incoherent storm
Of bursting clouds: a more enduring tempest
Will shake the earth and all its palaces,
When he whose footway I have heralded
Shall be enthronèd on the hearts of men!
John's Disciples appear outside the iron grating.
First Disciple.
Master, they come to kill thee!
Second Disciple.
Full of wine,
On his last birthday feast—and for a dance—
The King unto Herodias' daughter swore
To give what e'er she asked.
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She ask'd thy head!
John.
From day to day have I consider'd death,
And should have done so thro' the solemn night
But that I slept too well, and that, moreover,
I dreamt of him who cometh after me,
To carry on my work, and do his own—
Far more expanding. He is of sweet discourse,
And winning gentleness, and hath indeed
A wary wisdom that shall serve more ends
Than my too rugged nature. Mark ye, how
By haste and rashness I have wasted power,
Which else had lasted longer for more good.
I glory in my martyrdom, but lament
It comes thus prematurely by my fault.
I pray your pardon. Follow Jesus, then,
When I am dead, I charge ye all, my sons—
My friends—my brothers—and God's blessing 'tend ye!
[Sound of iron bolts withdrawn, and outer doors opening.]
Chorus of Disciples.
The Son of God—yet son of man—
Fulfils the mission of his span,
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The Valiant Soul who led the way
O'er old Idolatries and Hebrew Wrath,
Into the true Paternal path,
Where shines the loving day.
O, coming day! O men of future years!
Give John your heart's exalting tears
Through which the Light of Lights will smile in every ray!
Enter Executioner with an axe, attended by a Captain of the Guard, and four guards with bull's-hide thongs.
[A black Slave stands in the doorway with a large silver charger, in which a momentary reflection of the face of Herodias appears.]
Executioner.
King Herod sends me to take off thine head!
John.
Enough: thine axe doth speak for thee; but wherefore
These men with thongs?
Executioner.
To bind thee.
John.
'Tis not needful.
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Had I not brought them, would'st thou as a lamb
Submit to death?
John.
Perhaps thou hast done wisely.
The end being sure, thou savest me a low contest.
The strength of the great wilderness is in me—
These bones, thews, inward spirit—and I doubt not,
If that I would resist, this earth would groan
With several trunks beside me. 'Tis the forest
That speaks within me. Heed it not.
Executioner.
Would'st send
A message to the King?
John.
He is more weak
Than cruel. 'Twere of no avail.
Executioner.
Would'st pray?
Short time hast thou for prayers.
John.
I want no time:
My life has been one constant prayer. I am ready.
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Captain of the Guard.
(pointing).
Behold the block that waits you!
John
(calmly).
I salute it
As a new friend, but will not bow to it.
[John enters the inner dungeon. The Executioner and two guards enter; followed by the Slave bearing the silver charger.]
The Voices of John and the Executioner are heard from within.
Voice of the Executioner.
Kneel! bow thine head!
Voice of John.
No. That will I not do;
But thus arm-folded die. Now, draw thy sword!
Voice of Executioner.
This axe were speedier.
Voice of John.
Think not John will feel
Thy blows. His soul is too completely armed,
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Draw forth thy sword?
Voice of Executioner.
Behold, 'tis drawn—but pray thee!
Turn from me those bright pitying eyes—or else—
Voice of John.
I will look upward, then! I thank thee, friend.
Mine eyes the Kingdom seek whereto my spirit
Now beats her pinions for a sudden flight!
Uplift thy blade!—higher—more steadily—
Voice of Executioner.
'Tis high enough—but bend thy body forward!
Voice of John.
Strike!—strike again! My feet are still on earth—
Now—now I spring and poise! O, God of Israel!
[At the third blow John's head is heard to fall.]
Re-enter Executioner and guards, from the inner dungeon, and then the Slave bearing John's head in the charger.
They pass through the first dungeon, and Exeunt.
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SCENE V.
Exterior of the Castle of Machærus.Morning twilight breaking upon the outer bars of the dungeon wall.
The Disciples of John are standing in front of the dungeon bars.
Chorus.
O, Master! whom we first did seek
Amidst the forests and the streams,
The desert sands, the stony peak—
A Prophet fed by heavenly dreams,
And clothed by faith in future beams!—
Amidst the forests and the streams,
The desert sands, the stony peak—
A Prophet fed by heavenly dreams,
And clothed by faith in future beams!—
We follow'd thee, like moons that turn
Around a planet, and receive
The orbit course wherein they live,—
Pure fire in each transparent urn,
That glorifies yet doth not burn.
Around a planet, and receive
The orbit course wherein they live,—
Pure fire in each transparent urn,
That glorifies yet doth not burn.
Sub-Chorus, the 1st.
Erewhile men saw a naked sprite—
A sepulchre's phantasmal gleam—
A dancing meteor of the night—
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'Midst drunken passions of delight.
Sub-Chorus the 2nd.
And see! in yonder feasting hall—
O see! a streaming charger borne!
Upon it, a divine man's head,
A tyrant's conscience to appal,
And haunt with pale smile his incestuous bed!
Sub-Chorus, the 3rd.
The prickly-pear's bush clumps the shore;
Rich carmine movements fill its breast;—
The mastic, cypress, sycamore,
Have inward currents without rest:
The shell-fish close-lock'd, graved in sand,
Beneath the wave knows sea from land,
While in deep darkness tremulous;—
But nothing moves in John's dark house!
Sub-Chorus, the 2nd.
Ah, now unto the tomb
Bear the dear headless form!
Cover it with earth—with tears—
With tears that feel like blood;
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Which should be joyful dreams
Wherein we are not parted
From him, our martyr'd saint full-hearted.
Sub-Chorus, the 3rd.
O hour of blissful woe!
O, Death! O, Life beyond!
Chorus.
Brothers! our Master's last command obey!
Seek we the holy man from Nazareth,
Who must depart—make sail from Galilee.
Him let us follow now through life and death! Brothers, away!
Hark to a mournful voice as from the sea!
The morning twilight gleams—
The night-shades flee!
[The Chorus dies away into distant echoes and whisperings.]
| John The Baptist, Or, The Valour of The Soul | |