University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Herodian, Glaphyra.
Her.
Yes, my Glaphyra, 'twas a dreadful moment,
And even so as you describe its terrors
My fancy drew it in my last night's dream.
Methought I saw the accursed Syrian seize you,
No saving angel came, no brave Alcanor
Flew to your rescue—Horror froze my blood.

Gla.
Pierc'd to the heart at once Philotas fell;
So sudden was the stroke, I saw it not,
Nor knew the hand that sav'd me.

Her.
Heaven reward him!
Were the world's empire mine, I'd yield it to him.
But what is empire? Fond, unhappy youth,
His heart, alas! is sensible as mine
To beauty's fair perfection—He adores you.

Gla.
With pity I behold his painful struggle.

Her.
And do you not behold his virtues too
With admiration? If he now should claim
Your gratitude, your love—could you reject him.

Gla.
Where would your question lead me?

Her.
What am I?
What have I done? He sav'd you, I forsook you:
With me you sink into a private station,
With him you mount a throne.

Gla.
No more of this,
You say it but to prove if thrones would tempt me;
Therein you wrong the daughter of Seleucus,
Whose glories once, though now eclips'd and lost,
Dazzled the nations. To Alcanor's virtues
I bend with reverence, from his love I shrink
With terror and affright.

Her.
And cause there is
For terror and affright: I've seen him rage
Fierce as the gust, that tears his sandy wilds,
And fiery as the sun, whose burning orb
Withers parch'd nature up. Oh, my soul's treasure,
That we could fly from hence!—
Halak enters.
My friend, what tidings?

Hal.
Alcanor comes; I pass'd him on the way.

Her.
Comes he in peace and mercy to release us?

Hal.
I know not that: he stopp'd and briefly ask'd me
If Mariamne liv'd—ere I could answer,
Go tell your prince, he cried, that I am coming
To fix his fortune and my own for ever.

Her.
How look'd he when he spoke those awful words?

Hal.
Fatally wild, and, as a shadow, pale;
And, whilst with quiv'ring lips and hurried speech
He bade me warn you to the western tower,
The very scene inspir'd my soul with horror;
For there no ray of heav'n's blest light is seen,
Hope, cheerful offspring of the morn, ne'er enters,
But murder, ambush'd in those gloomy cells,
With list'ning ear, in midnight silence, sits
Watching the hour, that tolls her victim's knell.

Her.
Break off! I never will suspect Alcanor,
And if he wrongs my confidence, behold!
I have a weapon—Look, our mother comes—

Mariamne enters.
Mar.
Once more, my son, with feeble step and slow,
As fits a wretch just sinking to her grave,
Trembling I come to take a last farewell.
The prince, who wrongfully usurps your throne,
Has, in his mercy, deign'd to set me free,
And though too late that mercy comes, I thank him,
I bless him for the deed. With this fair princess,
To whom you are affianc'd, you may live
Secure, nor envy him a crown of cares.
Thus let me join your hands—In sight of heaven
Here kneeling interchange your nuptial vows,
So shall I breathe a blessing on you both,
And die content.

[They kneel.
Her.
Recording angels, hear me!
And, whilst I press to my devoted heart
This virgin hand, witness my wedded oath!
Sow say, Glaphyra, if thy soul accords
To this my solemn vow.

Gla.
To every word,
Conscious what judgments would await the breach
Of this our mutual oath, I do accord.

Mar.
Rise, rise, ye wedded pair! Offspring of kings,
To great achievements born, now arm your hearts
To meet the dangerous trial that awaits you.
In courts like this, floated with human blood
And peopled with assassins, whilst you stand
With only truth and justice on your side,
Both naked, both unarm'd, you well may doubt
How long Alcanor's mercy shall withstand
The vengeful precepts of his cruel mother.

Her.
A few short minutes will decide on that;
Ev'n now I'm summon'd—Hark, I hear his trumpet.

[Exeunt.
Scene changes to the Western Tower.
Alcanor with Guards, meets Sameas.
Alc.
How now, whence come you? Why that bloody sword?

Sam.
'Tis an assassin's blood. Barzilla's stabb'd
By an Egyptian slave, whom in the act
I seiz'd and slew—

Alc.
Oh, lead me, lead me to him!

A Chamber in the interior. Barzilla is discovered wounded. Alcanor enters.
Alc.
My friend, my father!—Oh, accursed deed,
Soul-rending sight! What can I do to save thee?

Bar.
Nothing: 'tis all in vain. The slave has kill'd me.
The queen, the queen suborn'd him—he confess'd it.

Alc.
Oh, horror, horror! Then am I thy murderer;
For I inform'd the queen of all that pass'd,
When, to arrest my hand uprais'd to strike,
You feign'd yourself my father—'Twas a fault,
But grievously, alas! you have aton'd.

Bar.
It was indeed a sin, a crying sin,
But not against the truth—I am thy father.

Alc.
Stop; have a care! Thou'rt dying—Do not load
Thy parting soul.

Bar.
I know that I am dying;
I feel it, and with my expiring breath
I take it on my soul—I am thy father.

Alc.
Augusta vouches strongly—

Bar.
Yes, and kills me
For having told the truth—Surely, my son,
Thou wilt not curse me.

Alc.
Mark, if I will curse thee—
Judge of all human hearts, absolve my father!
Blanch with his contrite tears this crimson sin,
And, white as snow, record him in the book
Of life eternal!—Give me now thy blessing!

Bar.
Ye interceding angels, who address
The throne of mercy for imperfect man,
Make this dear youth your care, confirm his virtue,
And grant him life—if life be innocence—
But if dishonour, infamy await him,
Waft him yet guiltless on your wings to glory!

Alc.
Help then to fit me for this tow'ring flight,
And with parental firmness point this sword
Against this recreant bosom—'Tis not me,
'Tis guilt you kill—Oh, stab it to my heart!

Bar.
What do you mean? Declare!

Alc.
This midnight hour,
This solitary silence, mad desires,
And prompt occasion, aided by the counsels
Of my seducing mother, all assail'd
And shook my constancy; with ready sword
I came prepar'd to call my rival forth
To equal combat—

Bar.
Oh, my son, forbear!
With my last breath, I warn you to forbear—
And now I can no more—reach out your hand—
Farewell for ever!—Oh! I faint—I die!

[Dies.
Alc.
My father, oh, my father—look upon me!
Lift up your eyes awhile, and ere you close
Their trembling lids, behold a deed of justice!
Ah no, he's dead—His spirit has escap'd,
And all his troubles cease. He's gone for ever.
One false, one fatal step, and only one,
Marr'd a whole life of virtue—Affghar, Arabs!
Stand by the body, and with reverence guard it—
Now lead me to Herodian—Hah, who comes?
Augusta enters.
Remorseless woman, is it not enough
To kill by proxy, must you come in person
To feast upon the sight of human blood?
Arrest that murderess! She is not my mother.

Aug.
Hah! say'st thou? Stop these ruffians! Pause a moment,
And hear me speak apart—I yet will save thee—
There is no plea in nature, that should urge thee
To spare Herodian: he is not thy brother.
Thou art Barzilla's son, a peasant born,
Rais'd by my bounty to a kingly throne.
Wilt thou resign Glaphyra? Art thou mad
To sacrifice revenge, ambition, love?
The secret of thy birth dies with thy father;
Send but Herodian where Barzilla is,
And thou shalt reign secure—

Alc.
Avaunt, seducer!
Tempt me no more—a father's dying words
Are sacred—Look! his wound bursts out afresh;
Though dead, his blood cries out on me for justice!
Seize her, arrest her! drag her to her dungeon!

[The Arab guard forces Augusta off. Alcanor exit.
Herodian and Glaphyra.
Her.
Be comforted, my love! though I must leave thee,
I will not doubt but that commission'd spirit,
Which o'er the sleep of virgin innocence
Keeps his angelic watch, will here be present,
As heretofore he was in greater need.

Gla.
I fear not for myself; Alcanor's nature
Is far too noble to conceive such baseness;
It is for thee I tremble; 'tis the malice
Of his revengeful mother, and the effects
Of this expected interview I dread.
The pangs of jealousy are new to him;
Mild to submission, dreadful when oppos'd,
His fiery passions ill endure restraint.

Her.
In this, and through our lives in every trial,
'Tis on heaven's providence we must depend;
And ah! if now we part to meet no more,
Dear to my soul, farewell! There was a moment,
A fond weak moment—but it was a short one—
When, in my anxious care to guard your life,
I had foregone your love. That now is past;
Our faith is plighted by an oath in heaven,
And we must fall, if such our fate—together.

Gla.
Behold me ready!

Her.
Peace; break off! I'm summon'd.

Sameas enters.
Sam.
Prince, 'tis the king's command that you repair,
Without a moment's loss, under my guard
To attend the Sanhedrim, that now is met.
To you, fair princess, like command I bear,
And the same quick obedience is enjoin'd;
Be pleas'd to follow—No excuse will serve.

[Exeunt.
Scene draws off, and discovers a magnificent Hall, in which the Sandhedrim is assembled in their proper Habiliments. A Throne in the centre for the King, and on each side barriers to prevent intrusion upon the space devoted to the Elders, &c.
Chief Eld.
[Rising.]
Why with such haste, at this late hour of night,
Our Arab king hath summon'd us to council,
Brethren, I am yet to learn; but this I know,
And you, ye sages of the law, can witness,
The right of Mariamne's son to reign,
As heir of David's lineage, stands enroll'd,
With dire denunciation of heav'n's wrath
On all opposers—This premis'd, I yield
To Rome's decree, and call on this assembly
To rise with one accord, and greet Alcanor
Their king, now entering to ascend his throne.

Alcanor enters; the Elders all rise, and salute him as he passes, by laying their hands across upon their breasts, and bowing their heads. He ascends the steps of the Throne, bows to the Sanhedrim, and seats himself upon it—Then, after a pause, speaks as follows.
Alc.
Elders of Judah, with no better speech
Than nature dictates, I shall tax your patience.
Exil'd and driv'n to range Arabia's deserts
From infancy till now, your laws and records
Are undivulg'd to me: I neither question,
Nor can acknowledge what I never saw.
Call'd to this throne, I hold it for a duty
To let you know how I have us'd the power
Intrusted to me for your general good,
Within the period of this one short day
Which I have pass'd amongst you.

Ch. Eld.
Royal sir,
The Sanhedrim are honour'd in this pledge
Of your most princely candour, and we hail it
As an auspicious omen, that a reign,
Which so commences, will be long and glorious.

Alc.
Grave sirs, I pray you, treat me not with flattery;
Other applause than my own conscience gives
Will be but lost upon me. Your late king,
Upon what cause concerns me not to inquire,
Left an imprison'd lady at my mercy,
His queen, and mother of his son. By heaven,
It mov'd my indignation to be heir
Of such a legacy—I set her free—
Do you approve?

Ch. Eld.
With heart and soul, we thank you,
And 'tis no flattery to declare such mercy
In you, the son of Herod and Augusta,
Is truly great, beneficent, and noble.

Alc.
Then nature must be thank'd, that put within me
A heart that never could oppress the fallen.
Now, sirs, I know there are amongst you some,
Who look'd with evil eyes on my election—
I care not which they are; let them avow it;
I bear no malice to sincerity:
Herodian has their wish—I have his person
Now in my power—I would not touch his life
For the world's worth: I've summon'd him before you.
Let him assert his right, and let all those,
Who hold the covenant of heaven in honour,
Speak for the son of David, and uphold him
Against the specious claims of an assassin,
For with that name I brand my seeming mother.

Ch. Eld.
In wonder and amazement we are lost;
Abash'd, confounded: such a dreadful charge,
And with such dignity of soul enforc'd,
By one so interested to suppress it,
Deprives us of all speech—

Alc.
Produce your prisoner!

Affghar and the Arabs enter, bringing in Augusta under guard, as Prisoner.
Ch. Eld.
Oh, heaven and earth!—The queen?—

Alc.
Aye, sirs, the queen—
But call not upon heaven when she is present,
For in heav'n's peace a murderess has no part.
Stand from before her!—That remorseless woman,
When foil'd and mourning o'er her dying child,
Seduc'd Barzilla (the best man on earth
That fatal act excepted) to impose
Me, me his new-born infant, on the king,
And father her dead prince—Oh, shame to nature!
This fatal secret, twenty years conceal'd,
He, in his agony, confess'd to me,
When dying from the stab of an assassin,
By her suborn'd to kill him—Let her answer
If this be not the truth.

Aug.
I will not answer
A base impostor. What is truth to thee,
Thou peasant slave, whose whole life is a lie?
Till I can find language, that may express
My hatred, my contempt, I will be dumb.

Alc.
You have heard enough. To your hands I commit her:
My power draws to an end: take her away!
[They take Augusta off.
Say, is it fitting such a wretch should live?

Ch. Eld.
With grief of heart, we say it is not fitting.

Alc.
Now, sirs, you've heard the sum of my short annals;
I reign'd in ignorance, but I reign'd in mercy.
Here comes your rightful king—
Herodian and Glaphyra, with Sameas, Halak, &c.
Approach, Herodian,
And you, the fair enslaver of my heart!
The Sanhedrim have heard my full confession,
And how betray'd to think myself a prince,
The son of Herod, I have press'd your throne
With an usurper's, not a tyrant's, weight.
Had I remain'd unconscious of my birth,
I should have held my seat, and sent you hence
To find redress where you had chose to seek it.
But now assume your right, ascend your throne,
And place beside you that angelic maid,
Whose innocence it was my happiest lot to save,
Whose love my first ambition to deserve,
But my sad fortune never to obtain.

Her.
Heroic youth, in virtue more sublime
Than thrones can make you, oh, be near me still,
And teach me how to reign!

Alc.
Your heart will teach you;
That must be virtue, which Glaphyra loves.

Gla.
And thou art virtue—

Alc.
Oh, no more! Too late,
Too late those pitying eyes are turn'd upon me.
My spirit is too proud to be imprison'd
In an ignoble case: it bends its flight
To realms, where disappointment never dwells,
And love is universal as the day,
That brightens through eternity—Behold!
Thus, thus I set it free—

[Stabs himself.
Her.
Oh, horror, horror!
[The Sanhedrim rises.
Rise, fathers, rise! Support him, save him! Ah!
He dies—the fatal point has reach'd his heart;
'Tis finish'd—He expires! What noble fruit
Of growing virtue with its native trunk,
Is now cut down and strew'd upon the grave!

Gla.
Judge him with mercy, heav'n! He was not taught
Thy precepts of submission—Nature's child
Will, with the God of Nature, meet forgiveness.

[Curtain falls.