University of Virginia Library

Scene the First

Herods Pallace.
Enter Herod, Sosius, Pheroras, Attendants and Guards.
Herod.
Let it Pheroras, be your chiefest Care,
That Noble Sosius be respected here
With the same Homage that is due to Me.

Sos.
I have no Title to such Dignity.

Herod.
Sir, of my Friendship I wou'd give you Proof.

Sos.
The Glory of your Service is enough.
It is my Duty, that I you Obey:
To whom Augustus such respect did pay.

Herod.
I will not be, Kind Sir, asham'd to own;
It was your Friendship did support my Crown.
I great Augustus's Anger did subdue,
Not so much by my Merit, as by You.

Sos.
My Acts, great Sir, you praise too much.

Enter Tyridates and Alexas.
Herod.
But see; another Guardian of my Throne,
Valiant defender of Judea's Crown.
The Arabians dread great Tyridates name,
[Embraces.
And Rome has heard already of thy Fame.
The Laurels always must adorn that Brow:
And you participate his Glories too.

[To Alexas.
Tyrid.
The Obligations you have on me laid,
Can never by such Services be paid.

Herod.
Your Worth by Modesty does higher grow.

Tyrid.
Sir, I my Life did to your Bounty owe.

Alex.
This Prince begins to make my Envy boyle;
For to his Lustre we seem all a Foile.

[Aside
Herod.
Let us no more thus Modestly contend;
You are my Crownes Protector, and my Freind.

Tyrid.
You must command [Aside]
How Vertuous he seems
And cunningly disguises his black Crimes?
Like him I'm forc'd to Flatter with my Tongue,
Whilst my wrackt Heart resents Mariamnes Wrong.

Enter Philon.
Herod.
How does Your Charge?

Phil.
Great Sir, She's safe, and well.

Herod.
Does not Restraint make all her Passions swell?
And doe not Curses sit upon her Tongue
Against my Life?

Phil.
You do her Vertues Wrong.

Herod.
By Heav'n I think you are Enamor'd too.

Phil.
Because I've Acted what you bid me doe.

Herod.
It is my Passion, Philon, I forget.
But with what Words did Alexandra Threat?

Phil.
She took it Sir as Women use to doe,
An angry Tear, and a sharp Word or two.

Herod.
Affaires of State have smother'd up my Love,
But now warm Sparks about my Heart-strings move.
Spight of my Fury and my short-liv'd Rage,
Mariamnes Eyes those Passions soon asswage.
To her that hates I'm kind: They Gen'rous prove
Who without hopes of Loves reward can Love;

[Ex.