University of Virginia Library

Fifth Scene

Herods Pallace.
Enter Herod and Salome with Attendants.
Herod.
I'le think that Heav'n does joyn against me too,
If neither Poyson, nor the Sword will do.

Salom.
It was but chance, or he had drunk his last.

Herod.
I hope by this time that his Life is past.
I bid Pheroras bring the welcome News,
But his long stay my Patience does abuse.

Salom.
What Devil was it mov'd Arsanes so,
The Bowl, the Wine, and Poyson to o'rethrow.—
Between that Draught and Death he should have known,
I rais'd that storm which hence his Life had blown.
'Tis not Revenge, at least not half so sweet,
Unless he knows that I the Conquest get.
And if he Falls now by Alexas hand,
My fatal Anger he will understand:
[Enter Pheroras.
But here's Pheroras now—

Herod.
How dy'd he! say?

Pher.
His Valour Sir has rather won the day—

Herod.
Hah! What—not brought with thee the Traytors Head!
How durst thou say to me he is not dead!
What Legions had he to defend his Life?
Or fought my Subjects for him in the strife?

Pher.
I saw Alexas Sir, his Life pursue!
But what is't Valour in Distress can't do?
Surrounded by the Guard he bravely fought,
And to the ground Alexas bleeding brought.

Salom.
What said you of Alexas?

Herod.
Peace; go on!

Pher.
At him the Guard with all their fury run.
But like a Heroe so unmov'd he stood,
That all around the place he stayn'd with blood.
Polites Slayn, with noble Anger stung,
He flung himself to dye amid'st the Throng.
There he such Prodigies of Valour shew'd,
The Guard not him, but he the Guard pursu'd.
Prest with their number, he at last had dy'd,
But that Arsanes an advantage spy'd.
The Sacred Temple being nigh,—
To that Asylum both yet fighting, fly.
And spite of all those Swords which did oppose,
There they escap'd the Fury of their Foes.

Herod.
O Heavens! escap'd me thus.—
Thy Blood yet Tyridates must asswage
The vehement Tempest of my Jealous Rage:
I'le to the Temple, and my Wrath shall make
The great Foundations of that Structure shake.

[Exit.
Salom.
What Stars Protect this Man?
His Valour moves me so, I love him still:
But he Dispises me; that thought is Hell.
Yes, thou shalt dye!
My hand shall more then his, thy Life pursue,
And shew what Woman in Dispair can do.

[Exit.