University of Virginia Library

SCENE the Last.

[Mariamne enters supported by the High-Priest and Narbal; Arsinoe follows with the young Prince.]
Herod.
Heav'ns avert
The bodings of my soul! I fear the Queen—

H. Pr.
Oh Sir!—

Her.
Hah! say'st thou?—

H. Pr.
A few moments more
Will rank her with the dead!

Ar.
E'er I arriv'd
The deadly draught was giv'n, which soon will end
The sense of all her woes.

Her.
And all my joys!—
O call, call our physicians! now let art
Exert her saving pow'r, or ever prove
The minister of death!—

Mar.
The venom's spread
Too far for art!

Her.
O! wish to live, and heav'n
Will crown thy wish with life: heav'n will be just
To that bright innocence, which I have wrong'd!
Wrong'd with excess of love to fury wrought!—
O wretch, wretch, wretch!—

Mar.
Death's welcome, now I hear
My innocence avow'd.

Her.
I! I! whose life
Was bound with thine, by striving to secure
Thy beauties all my own, have kill'd the dove
I fondly grasp'd too close!—O see! she's pale:
Take, take, ye pow'rs! my life to lengthen hers:
Chain me, ye furies! to your burning wheel!
Whip me ten thousand years with scorpions there,
To save her life!—

Mar.
I pity and forgive
Your violence of passion, which hath wrought
The ruin of us both!

Her.
I ill deserve
Thy pardon or thy pity—Yet vouchsafe,
Thou fairest pattern of transcendent goodness!
Vouchsafe thy wretched lord a last embrace;
Whose soul is ready wing'd to wait on thine:
Oh!—bless the dying penitent with peace,
The moments which remain!—

Mar.
Good heav'n insure
[They embrace.
Eternal peace to both!

Her.
Thou shalt not dye!—
Thou art too young, too faultless, and too fair,
To fall a prey to death!—

Mar.
The thick'ning shades
O'er-spread my swimming eyes—Where is my child?
Bring him, poor babe! to take a parting kiss!—
Farewel!—I'm now at peace!—

[She dies.
H. Pr.
In that soft sigh
The gentle spirit soar'd!

Ar.
Oh! dead, dead, dead!—

Her.
Then, Death! strike on;
[He faints.
Fate, thou hast done thy worst!—

Phe.
My royal brother! Oh!—

Nar.
My gracious lord!—

H. Pr.
Good heav'n! restore to wretched Palestine
Her sole support, and grace!

Her.
What minister
[Raising himself.
Of this dark realm art thou?—If 'tis thy post
To guide the dead through this disastrous gloom;
Lead to that mournful mansion, where the ghosts
Of those abide, whom fatal beauty sent
Untimely to the shades!—See! see! she soars!—
How bright a track she leaves along the sky;
And looks with pity down!—Oh see! she rests
On the soft fleece of yonder purple cloud,
Where angels fan her with their golden plumes:
Stay, Mariamne, stay!—

[He sinks into their arms.
Phe.
O! from his face
The blush of life retires.

Nar.
His bosom heaves
With strong convulsive throws!

Fla.
Raise him, my lords.

Her.
Alas! forbear; ye but prolong the pains
Of lab'ring nature; let me sink to peace!
And may Oblivion cast her sable veil
O'er my sad story, and conceal the crimes
Of majesty mis-led! My urn, alas!
Can hope for no compassion: when the doom
Of my dear, lovely, virtuous Queen is told;
The tears will freeze on Pity's gentle cheek,
And not bedew my ashes!—To your care
[To Fla.
Receive this royal orphan, and implore
Cæsar's protection to preserve his crown.
And when mature in manhood, he receives
A consort to his throne, may every grace
And every virtue join, to make her styl'd
The Mariamne of th' admiring age!
May sweet compliance, honour, dear esteem,
And mutual faith cement their mutual joys!
But ever may he shun too fond excess!
That soft seducing impotence of mind,
By which subdu'd, his wretched father fell!
Led by imperious Love a tortur'd slave,
To the sad refuge of an early grave!

[He dies.