Mariamne A tragedy |
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5. | SCENE V. |
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Mariamne | ||
SCENE V.
MARIAMNE, ARSINOE.Mariamne.
With less regret
I can support your absence, since my son
Will find so kind a guardian, to discharge
The dear engagements that a mother owes:
We differ but in name.
Ar.
The prince shall be
The tender object of my hourly care:
Happy! that fate reserves it in my pow'r,
T' express the sense my grateful heart retains
Of royal favour.
Mar.
Nature form'd our sex
For soft endearing offices: she starts,
When pity is depos'd, and cruel pride
Usurps the vacant throne. Alas! you see
How deep the darts of fortune wound the great,
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By favours in reversion, which allure
Ev'n vulgar souls to succour the distress'd;
Int'rest wou'd tell you, that your darling son
May want a friend; and then, my tender plant
In the full verdure of his royal growth,
May recompense your kind protecting care,
And shield him from a storm.—Is the time fix'd
For your departure?
Ar.
Sohemus intends
T' obtain the royal mandate, to delay
My journey with my lord: then all my joys,
Like the false colours of the show'ry bow,
Will fade in tears!
Mar.
The politician's art
Must so revenge his disappointed love?
His spider-constitution wou'd dissolve
In its own venom, if he shou'd forbear
To spin it off in crafty dark intrigues;
Pernicious to my peace, and those I love.
Before the banquet, you shall quit the court;
Then let Flaminius vindicate his claim.
And by this prompt compliance with your lord,
Form all your future conduct; and affect
The pow'r to please, and not to give him pain:
For wedded love is founded on esteem,
Which the fair merits of the mind engage:
For those are charms that never can decay;
But time, which gives new whiteness to the swan,
Improves their lustre.
Ar.
None of humane race
Wou'd live more happy, cou'd we but transcribe
The bright example of a royal pair:
If my Flaminius ever wou'd reward
My constant ardor, with an equal flame;
Engag'd by such endearing decencies,
As make the lamp of love in Herod's breast
To burn so bright, and never to consume.
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Beware of flatt'ry! 'tis a flow'ry weed,
Which oft offends the very idol-vice,
Whose shrine it would perfume.
Ar.
But rigid truth
Turns praise to incense, which the nicest sense
Of virtue may receive.—In your soft chains
Your captive lord is led from joy to joy:
Days, months, and years, in circling raptures rowl,
And each advancing hour outshines the past.
None, none but he can such a treasure boast,
Rich in perfections, able to suffice
His avarice of love!
Mar.
When hearts are join'd
In virtuous union, love's impartial beams
Gild the low cottage of the faithful swain
With equal warmth, as when he darts his fires
On canopies of state.
Ar.
The danger's fled,
And now I may disclose a stronger proof
Of Herod's passion, than the long records
Of love contain.
Mar.
What proof?—a dangerous proof,
Conceal'd from me!
Ar.
When Cæsar's mounted beams
Prevail'd o'er Anthony's inferior star;
He thought the victor, in severe revenge,
Would take both life and crown: his life and crown
Were toys beneath his care; but oh! what pangs
He felt, reflecting that your death alone
Cou'd save your beauties to himself entire!
How vast a passion his, who could not bear
A rival in the grave!
Mar.
How! Did the king
To the red hand of slaughter doom the breast
Of once-lov'd Mariamne?—Gave command
This breast shou'd bleed, where never dwelt a thought
Disloyal or unkind!—Had other lips
Breath'd forth this fatal truth, it would appear
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To violate my peace: But you're sincere;
And knowing that, I know my self undone!
Ar.
O, that I had been born like nature's mutes,
That swim the silent deep!—Believe me false;
Or else, with me, believe the King's decree
A test of wondrous love, and dear esteem!
Mar.
Love, and esteem!—
Ar.
Alas! rekindling rage
Glows on your cheek, and sparkles in your eyes:—
Think me perfidious, or distrust the pow'r,
And evidence of ev'ry faithful sense;
Rather than doubt your self the worship'd shrine
Of his fond soul, and treasure of his joys.
Mar.
To dissipate my doubt, recite the whole,
Without evasions.
Ar.
When he went to Rhodes,
He thus to Sohemus his charge address'd.
If I to Cæsar's rage a victim fall,
Let not my beauteous Queen survive, to grace
The victor's triumphs, or to crown his love:
Let me lie envy'd in the grave, possess'd
Of Mariamne there! a happier doom,
Than 'tis to live the world's imperial lord
Without my Queen, or rival'd in my love.
Mar.
Whene'er did cruelty assume a look
So smooth and fair before?—To summon death,
And arm the Terror with a dart of love,
Against his Queen! his wife! whose ardent vows,
Incessant pray'r, and sacrifice, implor'd
Th'unutterable name, to make his head
White as the flow'ring almond, with increase
Of prosp'rous days; that ages yet unborn
Might bow before his throne, and bless his pow'r;
When I lie unlamented and forgot,
A little heap of dust: and this return!—
A sad return indeed!
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Call it despair,
And fear of losing what his soul adores.
Our deeds receive their colour from the will;
His tongue was cruel, but his heart was kind;
And rigor was, at worst, the sullen child
Of grief, and bore a fix'd, but melting eye:
Or if a crime, the crime of boundless love.
Mar.
Good heav'n! that base perfidious creature, man!—
With what dissembled agonies of grief
He cried, farewel! and fainted in my arms;
I credulously fond thought all sincere!
Ar.
His grief was undissembled; but your charms
Have wrought his love to rage.
Mar.
If this poor stock
Of artless beauty hath such fatal pow'r,
When you, Arsinoe, have a daughter born,
Beg all deformities of shape and face,
T'insure her quiet from that monster, man!
Who quitting reason, a celestial claim,
To the sweet harmony of souls prefers
A little white and red, the airy food
Of bestial appetite: and for a cheek,
Whose transient beauties hardly will outwear
The wardrobe of a flow'r—
[A Messenger enters.
Mess.
The king and court
Intreat your majesty wou'd come, to grace
The banquet.
Mar.
No! I'm indispos'd— [Exit Mess.]
Now fly,
Arsinoe, fly the meditated snare,
Which Sohemus will spread: and may your love
In the warm smile of fortune flourish fair,
Fruitful of virtuous joys: but if the Pow'r
Blast with malignant frowns the blooming sweets,
Absolve your destiny of partial rage:
Think on the wife, the mother, and the queen,
Whose heart her hostile troops have long besieg'd:
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Of Mariamne's woes, and weep no more.
[Exeunt.
Mariamne | ||