 | Mariamne |  |
SCENE III.
Salome enters to Sohemus.Salome.
How now, my Lord!
What means this pale confusion in your face!
What makes your hair stand bristling, and your eyes
With gloomy horror glare!
Soh.
We cheat the world
With florid outside 'till we meet surprize;
Then conscience, working inward like a mole,
Crumbles the surface, and reveals the dirt
From which our actions spring.
Sal.
My lord, recall
Your wandering reason.
Soh.
'Tis in vain to boast
That reason o'er the passions holds the rein,
When quite unman'd with such a tale—
Sal.
What tale?
I met th' High Priest, hath he unfolded ought
That strikes with this amazement?
Soh.
He reports
A message from the visionary shade
Of young Aristobúlus; him! who claim'd
By lineal right the crown which Herod wears:
To disembroil the title, whilst he bath'd
I plung'd him 'till the stifling element
Had quench'd the lamp of life, and charg'd the crime
18
Sal.
To see a dotard's fiction, or his dream,
A legend, such as nurseries amuse
A froward child with, have as strong effect
As plain authentic truth! I've heard you prove
By clearest reason, that when death resolves
To its first principles the human frame;
That subtile vapour then, the boasted soul,
Mingles with common air.
Soh.
'Tis not the faith
Of such fantastick forms that quells me thus;
Sudden remorse for murther'd innocence
Wither'd my resolution.
Sal.
But revenge
Reviving warmth and spirit will infuse,
And make the drooping branches flourish fair,
Renew'd in second spring. Here Sameas comes,
Whom art and nature exquisitely form
For glorious mischief; him we must secure.
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