University of Virginia Library

Scene the First

A Garden.
Enter Herod, leading Mariamne, with Attendants; and Tyridates on the other side meeting them.
Herod.
Important Bus'ness calls me now away;
But You may longer in the Garden stay.
Prince Tyridates opportunely met,
May on my Queen with your permission wait.
Kind Tyridates, here, whilst I go in,
Try to divert my Melancholly Queen.

Herod offers the Queens Hand to Tyrid.
Tyrid.
In Storms at Sea, when Death and Danger's nigh
[aside.
Men wish for Land, and yet from Land they fly:
Whilst Trembling at the Object, I admire,
Fear keeps me from the Blessing I desire.

Queen gives him her Hand. Ex. Her. &c.
Mariam.
Had Herod known, you did my Love pursue,
He would not now have given my hand to you.
And since you did to me your Thoughts commit,
I ought my self too, to have hinder'd it.
But that I judg'd I might without offence;
Either to yours, or my own Innocence.
Did I believe you harbour in your Breast
A thought to my Dishonour, I'de Detest
You as a Monster, and my Mortal Foe.

Tyrid.
And I am willing that you should do so.

Mariam.
Think not, because, I not for Herod burn,
I'le my affections on another Turn:
Not the Remembrance of his Wrongs to Me,
Shall make me of his Crimes partaker be.
Could I be false so to my self and him;
I were unworthy then of your esteem.

Tyrid.
That gen'rous Bounty flowing in your Breast,
Has Me great Queen with Confidence posses't:
To speak, and to believe, you'l hear me now.

Mar.
Speak; but what strictest Vertue may allow.

Tyrid.
If my rude Passion harbours a Design
Against Your spotless Innocence and Mine.
You then may justly Me and that Despise,
And hate without a Crime what Vertue flyes;
Use then your Thunders; let the higher Powers,
To make we Wretched, joyn their frowns to yours.

Mar.
Look on this Passion as an Enemy
That will at last destroy both You and Me.

Tyrid.
Not if that flame which does inhabit here
Inspires my mind with what from stains is clear:
All Worshipers at distance may admire—

Mar.
Oh call the Greatness of your Courage home,
Let Tyridates now himself o're-come.—

Tyrid.
Madam, the highest favour I dare Crave,
Is leave to bear your Image to my Grave:
Thus on my Knees I beg—

Enter Salome.
Mariam.
I can't consent
Although your Love were yet more Innocent.
Rise Tyridates! Salome is neer—
I fear she saw you Kneel, let us withdraw.

Tyrid.
That Womans sight I hate—

Mar.
Why Sir?

Tyrid.
Madam, that Secret I'le relate.

[Ex. Tyr. & Mar.
Salome.
Was it not Tyridates that I saw
Kneel to the Queen?
Oh Heaven! this Chance unseals my blinded eyes,
And plucks from them their so long close disguise.
Slighted I thought was a sufficient Curse;
But slighted for another is yet worse;
Swell high the Tyde of Rage; boyle up my Blood,
Be to my Vengeance an eternal Food.
Is it for this that Mariamne flyes,
The Kings Embrace? and does his Love despise!
I have a Rival on an equal score,
The Queen a Husband has, and I no more.
I'le watch each motion and each look they throw,
That rage and Jealousie may higher grow:
Their hearts will shake when they shall understand
Like Fate, their Lives I carry in my Hand.

[Exit.
Enter Tyridates and Mariamne.
Mar.
Are you so Cruel then to Ladys grown!

Tyrid.
The Law of Love permits to Love but One.

Mar.
And ought not I your Passion to decline,
When you despise anothers Love for mine?
That sin which you in Salome condemne;
Would you Mariamne, should in you esteem?
Does not she Loving you betray her trust?
How can I yours permit then, and be just!

Tyrid.
Oh Madam! You injurious are to joyn
That spightful Ladies Vicious Love with mine.
Mine is all Innocence!

Mar.
But the World may not know your Innocence.

Tyrid.
I by my silence keep it from their Sence.

Mar.
Though that has kept it yet from Herod's Eye;
Yet 'tis what Salome will soon descry:

Tyrid.
Wrapt in my Vertue, I my Fate despise:

Mar.
But more then Life, at Stake, our Honour lies.

Tyrid.
When that I injure, may—

Enter Herod, Pheroras, Sohemus, Alexas, Guards.
Mar.
The King is come!

Tyrid.
And I unwillingly must give him room!

Herod.
What to the Office of a King is due,
I've soon dispatch'd to come, my Queen, to you:—
But such short Intervals of Absence prove
As blasts to fan the Ardent flames of Love.

Mar.
Sir, Kings their Modesty are wont to show.

Her.
And Modest Queens not answer with disdain.

Mar.
Herod, of that you ought not to complain.

Herod.
Oh Heav'n! and must my Passion thus be met,
And all my Kindness answer'd with regret?
Hence scornful Woman, from my Presence go:
Since not your Husband, you, your King shall Know:
Your Fathers Destinies you do forget.

Mar.
No Herod! here they are all Written yet:

[Ex. cum suis.
Herod.
What Roman Courage in that Breast does lye?
And dauntless Power sparkles from her Eye!

Alex.
Your Subjects Sir, may well cease to obey,
When your own Queen to Subjects shews the way.

Tyrid.
What Tortures rack my Breast! must I be Dumb!
This is a Task too hard to overcome.

[Exeunt.
Manet Elexas.
Alexas.
I now can tell what is black Envies Food,
Man's Heart's her Meat, her Drink his Vital Blood.
I feel the Viper gnawing in my Breast.

[Enter Salome.
Salo.
What, my Alexas, musing all alone.

Alexas.
No, I have Company, though you see none.

Salo.
Where are they?

Alexas.
Salome! they are in my Breast.

Salo.
What, with some busie thoughts you are possest?

Alexas.
Yes, such they were.

Salom.
Must I be Ignorant?

Alexas.
No Salome! I dare trust you—
Me-thinks that Stranger Parthian grows too tall.
I do not love him—

Salo.
Nor would—if you knew all—
I hate him too—

Alex.
And have you Reasons too—

Salom.
Some small ones; but no matter—what have you?

Alex.
Herod's too lavish of his favours there.

Salom.
Now he has rid me of my Jealous sear,
aside.
I doubted lest He had my Passion found,
aside.
But he on Envy does his Anger ground.
aside.
And is that all? But I could tell you more—
But—

Alex.
But what? Come tell the Truth—

Salom.
But you shall Swear you never will disclose,—

Alex.
I freely Swear all Oaths you shall impose.

Salom.
Hark in your Ear—he would have—

[Whispers.
Alex.
How my Wife!—And can I hear such out-rage!

Salom.
Hold Sir! he in his Passion is unwise
Who does his Soul discover at his Eyes.
Cloath every thought in Darkness, wear a Cloud,
As may if possible Heaven's eye delude.

Alex.
What if I should declare it to the King?
Into Disgrace this wou'd the Parthian bring.

Salom.
With your own mouth you wou'd divulge your shame;
To Do and to be Tempted is the same.
We must be free from scandal as the fault.
Men judge the strength of Vertue by th'Assault.
This would Mens thoughts divide; for 'mongst the Throng
Right seldome has more Voyces than the Wrong.

Alex.
Dearest I'am convinc'd: Thou art a Gem,
Which I can ne're sufficiently esteem.

Salom.
Doubt not but I severe revenge will take,
Alexas, both for thine and honours sake.
Be Mute—for I have thought a Stratagem—
Herod grows Jealous of the Queen and Him.

Alex.
O my Wise Princess—I your Wit adore—
See; there's the King!—

[Enter Herod.
Salom.
Alexas! be you gone—
I'le take this time to talk with him alone.
[Ex. Alex.
That project's done,—now to the King.
No man stands so secure, but he may fall,
When he has once stir'd up a Womans gall.
The King is bigg with somthing—

Herod.
Salome!
How much I am disturb'd you cannot see.

Salom.
Your Soul with some great Passion struggles—

Herod.
True;
And I to calme this Tempest come to you.
My Queen has met my Love with such disdayn,
That she has turn'd the Stream: My Passion grows
Enrag'd, and o're the Banks of Reason flowes.
Can She not Love?

Salom.
No doubt Sir, but she can.

Herod.
Why does she not?

Salom.
She does! but who's the Man?

Herod.
Oh Salome! you raise the Tempest; hold,—

Salom.
You know not Woman, Sir, so well as I.

Herod.
I know her Vertue, and she first would dye.

Salom.
You know she Loves not you.

Herod.
All that may be—
She'l Love no other tho' she Loves not me;
And that proud Heart which does a King oppose,
Can never with a meaner Object close.

Salom.
Love, had it Eyes, might soon—

Herod.
Oh I am rack't.
Spake Salome, and make my doubts more clear.

Salom.
What makes the Parthian Prince to linger here,
Whom great Augustus does invite to Rome;
And offers Armes his Brother to o'recome:
He slights not these great offers without Cause;
No, here's attraction Sir, that stronger draws.

Herod.
Thy words have let ten thousand Furies in.

Salom.
Sir! 'tis too plain—now to be blind's a sin—

Herod.
Thy words have clear'd the mist before my eyes;
Before Truth's Son the foggy umbrage flies.

Sal.
See with what draughts he sucks the Poyson up!—
[aside.
The Quiet of your Court made me Conceal
What now I only to your self reveal.

Herod.
That Mariamne Loves the Parthian Prince,
Her hate of me my Reason does convince—

Salom.
'Tis not her Kindreds Blood moves thus her mind,
No; her disdayn is of another kind.
To you a Rock she unrelenting stands,
Yet Tyridates's Love, her heart commands.
Alas! He Loves with better luck then you:
An Exile does more than a King can do.
But first their glances, looks, and actions weigh;
Perhaps I may have err'd in what I say.

Herod.
Oh my dear Salome! it is too plain!
A Thousand things to my remembrance fly
Which I before had pass'd too slightly by:

Salom.
It bravely works!—good Sir, have farther proof:

Herod.
What needs there more? alas, I have enough.

Salom.
He is indeed ingrateful

Herod.
—To requite,
The refuge that I gave him in his flight;
He flyes a Cruel Brothers rage;—I guess
He will not find a Jealous Husband's less.
My Anger shall like frightful Thunder move,
He pays his head for his presumptuous Love.

Salom.
Stay Sir—let reason in this great affair
As well as Rage and Jealous Passion share.
I would not have you Tyridates save;
Your resolution is both just and brave.
Yet for his Life, pray venture not your Crown,
Nor hazard for his wicked head your own.
Augustus Sir, is Tyridates Friend,
It's dangerous Augustus to offend.
And lose the favour which you gain'd so late;
Act not in Fury, let your Rage abate—

Herod.
What, shall he live then?

Salom.
No: he still shall dye.
But 'tis not you shall strike the blow—but I.
Leave it to me—

Herod.
But give your Justice wings:
Revenge that brooks delays too mean for Kings.
At my Queens head shall my next Thunder fly,
Who could not live and Love by Hate shall dye:
Her forfeit-head, and her declining Crown
Shall feel the rage of Monarchs when they frown.

[Exit.
Salom.
Boast not Proud King of what your frowns design;
A Womans Rage shall be as great as Thine:
Tyridates Fall shall be an Act of mine.
If Vengeance is all a Kings Rage can do,
A Jealous Woman is a Monarch too—.

[Exit.