University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

MARIAMNE, HEROD, ELIZA, GUARDS.
ELIZA.
Summon all
Your wonted fortitude, my royal mistress,
For lo the king!

MARIAMNE.
Where am I? Whither tend
My faultring steps! O Power Supreme! I die,
I see my fate before me.

HEROD.
Wherefore thus
Trembles my inmost soul as I behold her?

MARIAMNE.
Support me, I am faint, each nerve gives way.

ELISA.
A little onward—

MARIAMNE.
Oh! What torture!

HEROD.
Heavens!
My tongue refuses utterance.

MARIAMNE.
Wherefore, say,
Am I commanded hither! Wilt thou take
With thy own hands the weak remains of life;
A life, the source of misery to us both?
I am prepared, strike, give the welcome blow,
The only blessing I expect from Herod.

HEROD.
Thou shalt be fully gratified, revenge
Stand eager for the deed. But first declare
The cause, and vindicate thy shameful flight.
So long, so oft provoked, when I forgot
Each past offence, and my fond yielding heart
Still lavish'd all its tenderness upon thee,
The partner of my empire and my glory,
Why harbour in thy breast this black design?
To what intent? What evil genius sway'd,
And with malicious hate inspired thy soul?

MARIAMNE.
To what intent! Can Herod ask that question?
But vain reproaches are untimely now.
Yet say that far from hence I sought to find
Some place of safety, say that Mariamne
For once revolting from an husband's power,
His rights forgot, and swerved from her obedience.
Call to thy mind th'illustrious line of kings
From whence I drew my birth; consider all
My present perils, and my past misfortunes,
And then condemn my purpose if thou darest.

HEROD.
But when thy shameful passion for a traitor;
When for Sohemus—

MARIAMNE.
Cease, thou false accuser;
My life is thine; but exquisitely cruel
Heap not a load of infamy upon me.
Let me without a blush, without a stain
Enter the residence of death. At least
Think on our sacred union, recollect
The nuptial bonds which link'd my fame with thine.
Pierce, if thou wilt, this heart; here plunge thy sword—
But in the dreadful act, respect the names
Of wife, and husband.

HEROD.
O perfidious! Base!
Well it becomes thee to pronounce those names,
Thy condemnation, and my foul dishonour.
Thy scorn bears witness, thy aversion proves,
With clear conviction proves, that thou art guilty.

MARIAMNE.
Fore-judged and doom'd to death, my love or hate
Can weigh but little in the breast of Herod.
Henceforth what right dost thou pretend to claim
To Mariamne's heart, which thou hast tortured
With grief's severest pangs, with fear and horror?
Thou, who with ruthless mind for five long years
Hast but insulted o'er my deep distress,
And mark'd my days with misery? Thou, whose hand
Detested tyrant, all my kindred slew?
Thou, who wert crimson'd with my father's blood
Before these eyes expiring? Ah! Relentless!
Had thy suspicious fury singled out
My life alone, this heart entirely thine
Without a sigh had met the fatal stroke,
Had loved, and bless'd thee. But here curb thy rage,
And let my death suffice; do not protract
My woes beyond the grave, preserve my children,
Spare thy own blood, nor punish them because
They spring from me; Oh, Herod! Shew to them
A father's kindness! Thou wilt know hereafter,
And haply when too late; reflect with pity
On their ill-destin'd mother; thou wilt know
The value of a heart which thou alone
Of all the human race e'er dared suspect.
A heart which could not stoop (perhaps too proud)
To hide its feelings, and with little arts
Bring to its lure the passions of a master,
Which bore its virtue spotless to the tomb,
And which, but for thyself, had loved thee, Herod.

HEROD.
What do I hear? What magic force, what power
Of agency invincible, controuls
My furious soul, and tears me from myself?
Hah! Mariamne.—

MARIAMNE.
Cruel and inhuman!

HEROD.
O weak credulity! O headstrong frenzy!

MARIAMNE.
Thus sunk; with misery and disgrace o'erwhelm'd,
In pity take a life beneath my care.

HEROD.
My own is thine; Oh! They are firmly bound,
Connected everlastingly together!
Madness hath reign'd! My senses are restored.
Let every loitering fear be put to flight.
Those looks! That face! Ah! How could I resist them!
Thy triumph is complete. No argument
Is wanted now; excuses would be vain.
My heart acquits thee, every tender thought
Vouches thy innocence. Dost thou require
Still more? What wouldst thou to atone my crime?
O heaven! O powerful love! I now implore,
And tremble in my turn. Wilt thou remain
Alone inexorable? Urge my guilt,
When I have pardon'd all? O Mariamne,
Here let our mutual persecutions cease.
Are our hearts form'd but to detest each other?
Must we still live in fear? Nor ever banish
Gloomy distrust? Oh! Let us stop at once
The progress of our woes, and end their course!
From this auspicious hour begin to reign,
And stretch the rod of empire o'er ourselves!
Oh! Draw not back thy hand, but frankly give it,
The sacred pledge of amity restore.

MARIAMNE.
Canst thou desire this hand? All-righteous heaven!
To whom I bend! Thou know'st what blood of mine
Still reeks upon his own!

HEROD.
Hah! Say I slew
Thy father and my king, and spilt his blood
That I might share the crown with thee; what gain
Follow'd the deed? Thy hate. Most just I grant.
Neither do I repine, for all my guilt
Stands wide display'd before me. But this theme
Is trite, and obvious; his untimely death,
The wrongs thy children have sustain'd, these form
The least of Herod's crimes, his savage rage
Hath e'en to Mariamne been extended,
And for a moment I detested thee.
Nay more, with jealous rashness dared suspect thee.
Oh! put thy virtue to the strongest proof,
And let it nobly struggle to forgive me!
A generosity like this, no heart
But thine can manifest. View'st thou my guilt
In all it's native colours? Oh, more bright
In its pure radiance will thy goodness shine,
Mov'd to compassion by those hallow'd ties,
Which have together link'd us in misfortunes.
Thou seest what wild emotions drive me on,
Thou seest my weakness. Oh! Regard thyself!
These agonies of woe, this grief sincere
Must not be view'd with scorn. Dear cruel object
Of my excess of tenderness and rage!
If to the whispering of angelic pity
Thy heart is sensible, calm (for thou canst)
Those horrid tumults which o'erwhelm my soul!
Turn not thy eyes aside.—My Mariamne—

MARIAMNE.
Stern as thou art, may I believe these transports
Spring from a true repentance? May I hope
That real grief is thine? Remorse unfeign'd?

HEROD.
Thou may'st. Oh! take and mould me to thy will,
So I but soothe thy hatred. Every fierce
And boistrous passion, all my savage fury
By thee was kindled: thy affection lost,
Humanity withdrew, and dire revenge,
And barbarous manners all my soul possess'd.
Oh! may my tears wash out the mutual stain!
I swear—