University of Virginia Library

Act the Fifth.

Scene the First

The Scene without the City.
Enter Tyridates and Arsanes.
Tyrid.
To Rome I now my wand'ring steps must lead;
I've sworn, and my great Saint must be obey'd:
Doom'd from her sight, he now Judea flyes,
Who in Devotion to Mariamne's eyes,
Liv'd an Adorer, and a Pilgrim Dies.
But what high Bliss my Vowes to me deny;
Hast my Arsanes, to the City fly.
Enquire her health; I fear she's in distress,
The trembling of my Soul her ills express.
By secret Concord Lutes when tun'd alike;
One trembling moves, if you the other strike.
Thus my tun'd Heart by sympathy of Love
Does at those ills she feels, though distant, move.
Not Death, nor Herod's Cruelties I fear,
But the Queens last command that keeps me here.

Arsa.
I'le put on the Disguise I have within.

Tyrid.
Here I will lye till you return agen;
And with my own sad thoughts I will converse,
Whose Clouds the Queens Health only can disperse.

[Lyes down.
Enter Salome in Mans Habit.
Salom.
This is the place I'm sure; hither last Night,
I'm told he and Arsanes took their flight:
Blest Chance! yonder he is! Revenge arise!
And make to thee and Love one Sacrifice.

Tyrid.
What man is this? I'le ask him whence he came?

[He rises
Salom.
So, so! I have already rous'd the Game.

Tyrid.
Sir, from the City came you?

Salom.
Yes, to you!

Tyrid.
Your pleasure!

Salom.
'Tis a bus'ness strange and new.
The Queen—

Tyrid.
Oh that blest name!

Salom.
Has found too late—

Tyrid.
You raise my fears.

Salom.
A sence of her hard fate!
Though from her kindness you did once receive,
All that so strict a Vertue had to give.
Yet;—
With a Womans kindness sh'has a Womans fear,
And dreads her Dangers now she finds 'em near.
And though a while unmov'd;
She stood the Tyrants first, and easier frowns,
Who floats above weak streams, in rougher, drowns.
Her nearer Ruine (though no doubt she still
Esteems yee) does her breast with horror fill.
She raves, and wishes that black hour accurst,
In which she saw, and knew, and lov'd you first.
And all that storm still falls on Cruel you,
Who her to these unjust Misfortunes drew.—
She wishes you—

Tyrid.
Hold! here's enough to Kill.
Since I am curst by my fair Queen! yet still
She's just, were she more cruel—

Salom.
Sir, the ill
She undergoes by you, has brought me here;
That since such Beauty suffers for your sake,
My Sword may of your Crimes expiation make:
Draw and defend your Life—

Tyrid.
No, kind Sir, I
Have guilty liv'd, but will not guilty dye.
Should I defend that Life which she condemns,
I justifie her sufferings, and my Crimes.
No, grant one Grace, the greatest man can give,
Here let my Breast that welcome guest receive.

Salom.
This I expected—
[aside.
Oh my hand does shake;
And foolish fear doe my Souls fortress take!

Tyrid.
Why are you slow? dear Sir make hast—

Salom.
Base fears be gone—Well, now I am prepar'd!
Against Revenge in Love there is no guard.

Enter Arsanes who stops her Sword.
Arsa.
Hold Villain! Murderer!

Tyrid.
Why do you stop that hand that is so kind,
Sent by the Queen, who has this grace design'd.

Arsa.
Oh Gods! your Passion Sir, has made you blind.
He's some Impostor would your Life betray—
You nothing of the Queen in this can see,
Nor with her Vertue does this act agree.
I the Imposture quickly will explain.

offers a pass at Salome.
Salom.
Hold, hold! 'tis not by thee I will be slain.
I come not hither by the Queens command,
Yet still this Traytor falls by my just hand.
By Princess Salome I'm sent—
[offers at Tyrid.
Her and her Brothers honour I must right:
It is in both their Causes that I fight.

Arsa.
Why from the Queen did you pretend before?

Salom.
The Prince I knew did her so much adore,
That calmely then he would his life resigne,
And so I might take his, not hazard mine.

Arsa.
Oh Monster—

[offers at her.
Tyrid.
Stay! the Cause is chang'd, and I'le dispute my Fate;
And give you what you ask; Herod I hate,
But Salome much more—

Salom.
Hates he her more—
Then Herod?—my Revenge swell'd high before:
But now to kill or dye's an equal part:
False & Perfidious Traytor! at thy heart:

[Her Perriwig falls off in making a Pass at Tyrid.
Tyrid.
Ha! 'Tis her self.

Salom.
Oh Curs't discovery! yes Sir! 'tis I,
And once again I thee to Death defy!

Tyrid.
What Vision's this? you have disarm'd me now.
Why, Madam, all this Cruelty from you?

Salom.
Oh my false Heart! I feel my rage expire,
At one kind breath my new-blown Love takes fire.
Sir, I'le forgive; if you'le return and Love,
I Herod's wrath, your dangers will remove,
And bring you back agen to his esteem.

Tyrid.
Yes, I will Love!—

Salom.
How Sir!

Tyrid.
My Charming Queen—

Salom.
Your Charming Queen! your Charming Queen shall dye!
I instantly will to her Tyrant flye:
Accuse her of all Treasons, false, or true;
All is too little that Revenge can do:
She dies to Morrow, nay to Night, to Day:
I cannot soon enough her life betray.
And since no other way will do't, I will
Torment thy Heart through Mariamne still.
And thou shalt live to hear this news Proclaim'd,
She's Dead: and if my pow'r can do it, Damn'd.

[offers to go.
Tyr.
Stay, Salome; dear Salome!

Salom.
Your will.

Tyrid.
If blood's your ayme; here Tyridates kill,
Let her but live—

Salom.
No, loving Fool, she dies.

Tyrid.
Oh thou black malice! wert thou but a man,
I by thy Death would my Queens safety gain.
But Curse she is a Woman! oh 'tis hard,
That Justice should by honour be debarr'd:
The greatest weakness is the strongest guard.

Salom.
Sir, 'Tis not yet too late your Queen to save,
Could you but—

Tyrid.
But—what is it you would have?

Salom.
Your Love!

Tyrid.
Love, Madam, has Variety!
What Love is't you would have? to what degree:

Salom.
I'd have you—Oh your blindness and my shame!
Can you not guess the thing without the name?

Tyrid.
Ah, Madam! if you Lawless thoughts pursue,
The ills you save her from will fall on you—
Horrors will haunt yee!—

Salom.
You do not understand
A Lovers sence. In Love we are not pain'd
With th'ills we've acted, but in those we miss.
Repentance there's less Torment, then a wish.
Try but to Love me, 'tis an easie grant:
Speak some kind things; or if new words you want
T'express a Passion by; oblige my Ear,
And repeat somthing that you said to her.

Tyrid.
Madam! what would your abused fancy get
If I that do not Love should Counterfeit.
The first I cannot, and the last I scorn:
My thoughts are never in Disguises worne.
I cannot tell yee—

Salom.
No, nor can I hear?
I've said too much for a return so small:
But here once more my Fury I recal.
Since Plots on Tyridates vain do prove,
To take away thy Life, or gain thy Love:
Thy Heart I yet have one way left to break;
My Vengeance at the Queen its ayme shall take:
There I will stab thee in a tender part,
And through her Breast strike thy ungrateful heart.

[Ex. Sal.
Tyrid.
Thy kindness and thy threats I both despise;
But oh her rage at Mariamne flyes.
I'le to the Court, and instantly informe
My Queen, and be her guard against this storme.
What if I'de sworn a thousand Oaths and broke
Them all, her certain Ruine to revoke?
Yet Perjury's no sin in such a Case;
Kind Salome! thy Malice is a Grace:
Thy Cruelty has done an act so brave,
It gives me pow'r my Queen to see, and save.
By such a hand so great a Bounty given!
An Instrument of Hell has lent me Heav'n.

[Exit.

Second Scene

A Bed-Chamber.
Mariamne lying on a Couch sleeping, Cleophe by.
Enter Herod.
Herod.
See where she lies; her eyes chain'd up with sleep:
The Graces in her Face a Guard do keep:
With what serenity she does appear:
How calme her Soul is, not disturb'd with fear.
While mine feels horrors! Oh my heart! I must
Withdraw, least to my self I prove unjust.
For those almighty Charms her Beauty wears,
Spread for my Anger, and my Justice snares.

[stands aside.
Mar.
O Cleophe! my Rest hast pleasant been,
[Awakes.
In sleep I have a blessed Vision seen!
Souls undisturb'd when they lye down to rest,
Are often with such fair Idea's blest.
I find Heav'n may in Prisons be; whilst Hell,
And all its Furies in the Pallace dwell!
Wipe off your Tears, and be not so unkind!
Your weakness Cleophe disturbs my mind.
Let Death and Fortune threaten if they will:
What though I fall? I am above 'em still.

[Enter 3 Judges
Herod.
Oh thou Heroick mind! not startl'd yet?
See how she does unmov'd, undaunted sit!

1 Judg.
Madam! by this Commission we are sent,
In which we obey our Royal Kings Commands—
You are accus'd by Him—

Mar.
Vain Rudeness! hold!
Me-thinks you are too insolent and bold!
A Princess of my Birth, your Lawful Queen,
Heir to the Crown, and stoop so low?
Can you be Subjects and my Judges too?

2 Judg.
We from the King, Madam, this power receive!

Mar.
The King himself has not so much to give.
For He can never make my Spirit bow
To such a base submission crav'd by you.

3 Judg.
'Twill be your Glory if you're Innocent.

Mar.
My Soul ne're knew what to be guilty meant!
Excepting Heav'n I other Judges scorn:
But chiefly you, who are my Subjects born.
Therefore forbear—

1 Judg.
Madam! we know
What to your Birth and quality we owe:
Which hitherto we with respect have paid.
The King on us has this Injunction laid:
To whom it is our Duty to obey;
And you as well as we should homage pay:
You'l guilty seem, if you do this refuse.
Queens ought to clear themselves when Kings accuse.

Mar.
But I from his Authority, and yours,
Appeal to Higher and more Righteous Powers.

2 Judg.
Our Conscience guides us, and the Law.

Mar.
But why—
All these Formalities to make me dye?
My Friends to Death without these shows were sent.
May not I tread the Path my Kindred went?

1 Judg.
Madam! of you the King has greater Care,
And by your Tryal, hopes to find you clear.

Mar.
Though his high Cruelties I must confess,
Have justly made the Wifes affection less:
Yet my firm Duty never can decrease.

Herod.
I can no longer hold—
[to Mariam.
I'le not believe but you are Guiltless too!
No memory of my Banisht rage shall stay,
All my suspitions Love has blown away.

Mar.
Hold Cruel Man! let Justice have its course:
My Judges I dislike, but thee much worse;
Beyond the bounds of Cruelty they fly,
Who torment those, who are about to dy.

Herod.
Oh you mistake me, for I come to save—

Mar.
Her Life who hates it, and desires a Grave.
But what's your right, to give or take my Life,
You know you are not King but by your Wife.

Herod.
Thou try'st by all extremities to move
My long-kept Patience, and provoke my Love.
To that alone—and that thou too well know'st
The Life thou yet enjoy'st! Proud Queen! thou ow'st.

Mar.
Nor thy Caresses, nor thy Threats shall move,
Thy Threats are yet less hateful than thy Love.

Herod.
Since you my Love with so much scorn deny,
Thou shalt have thy desire—yes, thou shalt dye,
To the Judges.
Perform that Charge I formerly did give,
And if you find her false, let her not live.
Let not the Name of Queen, keep you in awe:
Nor yet Divert the Justice of the Law.

[Exit.
Mar.
You see your Champion's gon; you may with-draw;
I am your Queen, above you, and your Law.

[Exit.
2 Judg.
She has a Soul no Power on Earth can tame.

1 Judg.
We may return as useless as we came.

Enter to them Herod and Salom.
Salom.
But why so weak! what shifting Passions move
His Soul? now mad with Rage, now fool'd with Love.

Herod.
But once again I am my self become,
And will an inrag'd Monarchs power assume.
Such high and lofty Pride swells her great heart,
That 'tis high time that and her head should part.
What now?

1 Judg.
She treats us Sir with such disdain and scorn,
As if she were more than a Princess born.

Herod.
She's guilty then, who dares not thus be try'd.

Salom.
I doubt there's somthing in it more than Pride.

Herod.
O Heav'n! pull down your Thunders on my head,
Pluck up those roots of Love, or strike me dead.

Salom.
Why make you thus your self unfortunate!
To rage for her that pays your Love with Hate.

Herod.
I know she hates me, and I know it well;
And yet I can't her Image hence expel.
But I will hear no more what Love can say:
Yes, yes, Mariamne, thou shalt Dye to day.
I'le start not from what I resolve to do,
Though whilst I take her Life, I lose mine too.

Salom.
Sir, you with Passions have so much been sway'd,
You never ask'd whether you were Obey'd
In your commands last Night: but you will find
Somthing in these will satisfie your mind.

delivers him the Papers.
Herod.
'Tis true I had forgot.

[Reads to himself.
Salom.
See! how it works?
Poison I hope in their Confession Lurks!
See how he swells!
It will burst out anon:
He likes not what he Reads, yet must read on.

Herod.
How! when I was to Cæsar gone, the Queen
[reads.
Was privately by Tyridates seen!
Oh Heavens!
Last Night for all the Danger he was in,
Return'd and privately met her agen.
Disguis'd—alone—by Night—ah this does prove
The strength of his and her unlawful Love.
Are these men Dead? hah!—

Salom.
They have receiv'd a just reward of Treachery—

Herod.
Yes! here's enough to satisfie my mind.
Now Justice to my self, and thee, I am kind.
For she shall Dye, and like a Traytress too.
Do you my Orders instantly pursue.
Do it before my fit of Love return.—
[Exeunt Judges.
If that get in, it will my Rage remove.
I must keep this Storm to keep out Love.

[Exit.

Scene the Third

The Prison.
Mariamne, Cleophe weeping.
Mar.
Leave weeping Cleophe, I pray forbear;
Is it the mark of sorrow, or of fear?

Cleoph.
Madam, I doubt your spotless Innocence
Against the Tyrant will be small defence!
You know he spares no Life when Rage bears sway:
And now I fear least it take yours away.—

Mar.
I prithee neither fear, nor weep for that,
'Tis Death alone can make me fortunate.
That will my Soul from Chains of flesh unbind,
And give unbounded freedom to my mind.
This Soul that's fetter'd here, when I shall dye,
To an Eternal Liberty will fly:
And what's contracted in this Body now,
Shall like a mighty Circle endless grow.
How Cleophe, can I your tears approve,
Who weep the fate I both desire and love.
If thou lov'st me, shew an unclouded eye,
I am resolv'd, and am prepar'd to Dy.
'Tis guilt alone disturbs a Soul with fears,
And foolish weakness vents it self in Tears!—

Enter Pheroras, Guard, Attendants.
Pher.
Madam, I am sorry that 'tis I must bring
So sad a Message from an Angry King.

Mar.
Speak it Pheroras, and I'le bless that breath,
That greets my Ear with the kind sound of Death.

Pher.
Nothing can your unhappy Fate put by,
His resolution's fix'd, that you shall dye—
And all things do without already wait,
Therefore prepare your self for this sad Fate.

Mar.
Pheroras, call't not sad; I n'er till now
Receiv'd a Message half so kind from you.
Let Herod know his present I receive
As the most pretious thing he had to give.
And with my thanks Pheroras let him know
This to my memory, and my blood I owe:
I n'ere did derogate in all my Life
From th'Honour and the Vertue of a Wife.

Phero.
Oh would the King your Loyalty believ'd,
Or were by some kind Angel undeceiv'd!

Mar.
The blood of Philon and Sohemus shed,
Will pull down Vengeance on his guilty head:
And if my Death is stain'd by any guilt,
'Tis 'cause imprudently their blood I spilt.
For Tyridates, I confess 'tis true,
I render'd what was to his Vertue due.
Acknowledgments and Innocent esteem,
And that was all I ever gave to him.
I shall not rack your Patience by delay,
However I a little beg your stay.
Whilst I retire to banish from my mind,
All those Ideas I must leave behind.
That my wing'd Soul prepar'd for her high flight,
May shake off Life and Crowns to mount more light.

[Ex. Mar. & Cleop.
Enter Judges and Executioner with an Axe in his hand, dressed with Linnen Sleeves and Apron, and in his other hand a black Cypress Scarf.
1 Judg.
All things are ready! where's the Pris'ner gone.

Pher.
She did desire some time to be alone.

2 Judg.
But does her haughty mind continue still?

3 Judg.
Death will affright her sure, or nothing will.

2 Judg.
But how did she her Sentence Sir, receive?

Pher.
She seem'd not to Rejoyce, nor yet to Grieve!
She heard me speak unmov'd and without fears,
When I my self could scarce refrain from tears.
She whom Friends Deaths has into Passions thrown,
Calmely receives the Knowledge of her own.
And as her tongue did from reproach refrain,
She shew'd it was below her to complain.
She spake! would Herod had himself been by,
And unconcern'd, prepar'd her self to dye:
Enter Mar. & Clophe.
But see she comes; her Eyes no grief betray:
She is Tryumphant on her dying-day.

Mar.
Come Friends, let's go! conduct me to the place,
Whence I shall follow all my Noble Race.
What means that Cypress Scarfe?

Phero.
To blind your Eyes,
Death will be gentler when it does surprize!
Nature will start else in her own defence.
The stroke is suffer'd best, whilst in suspence.
You must not see the Blow!

Mar.
Lay that Scarfe by.
I am a Queen, and like my self will dye.
It is not Death can overcome my heart:
Nor at its blackest horrors make me start.
No, I'le look thus, thus Fate despis'd I'le meet:
'Tis they smile best, who death thus kindly greet.

[Exeunt.

Scene Fourth

A Chamber.
Enter Alexandra.
The Pulses of my trembling Soul beat high,
Mariamne's dead, or is about to dye.
Disturbing fancies aggravate my fears,
And Ignorance does but increase my Cares.
Such horrid Visions fright me from my rest,
My interrupted slumbers they molest.
In vain all day her safety I enquire,
For none will satisfy my just desire.
Minutes seem days, and every hour a year,
Whilst I am rack't thus betwixt hope and fear.
O Cruel King! with Torments thou dost kill:
The fear is always greater then the ill:
I once agen to my rough guard will sue;
Gold may do more then Tears or Prayers could do.

[Exit.
Enter Herod (as distracted) and Salome.
Salom.
What ayles you Sir?

Herod.
Did not you hear the Musick? see, see, what's there?

Salom.
Sir I see nothing that should cause this fear.
He is distracted sure?

Herod.
See, see, what sight my Eyes invades;
See Aristobulus from the Neather shades!

Salom.
Sir, I see nothing, 'tis your fancy sure.

Herod.
Antigonus!
See the Queens Brother comes to fright me too.

Salom.
Look calmer Sir! your fancy is disturb'd!

Herod.
See Old Hircanus risen from the Dead!
See Salome how he looks and shakes his head?
See Joseph, Sohemus, Philon! see where they go.
They are all risen from the shades below.

Salom.
Sure it is Madness that disturbs you so!

Herod.
Oh the Queen, the Queen, the Queen! Oh she is dead!
See Salome: stay, Mariamne—stay: she's fled.

Salom.
Pray Sir settle your disturb'd mind!—

Herod.
Stay Mariamne! dead, dost fly from me too?
No Jealousy nor Rage can reach you now.

[Exeunt.

Scene sixth

Scene Jerusalem.
Enter Sosius with Romans.
Sosius.
The general murmur which assaults my Ear,
Speaks the sad Truth of my unhappy fear.
I dare not ask, and yet I fain would know,
Suspence! alas! does but intangle woe.

[Enter Pheroras.
Page.
Sir, here's Pheroras that can tell you more.

Sosius.
Tell me Pheroras, may it be believ'd
The Queen is dead! I hope I am deceiv'd?

Pher.
Yes Sir, she's dead, and all that glory's gon,
Which with such Lustre in Judea shon.
Like a bright Star dropt from the Firmament,
She's fallne, and with her all the light she lent.

Sosius.
O Cruel King! I wish! but 'tis too late!

Pher.
I need not tell what brought her to this Fate.

Sosius.
That's too well known; but tell me how she dy'd.

Pher.
O Sir, the Queen such manly Courage wore,
As you or Cæsar could have shown no more.
Unmov'd, and without sign of discontent,
Unvail'd she to the Fatal Scaffold went.
There of us all she kindly took her leave,
Some Jewels then to Cleophe she gave:
And made the Guard to bear her Weeping thence,
Because her pious Tears gave her offence.
Whilst she discours'd, our Tears run trickling down,
And no Eyes there were Tearless, but her own.

Sosius.
The highest Vertue's fled that ever shin'd!
O Cruel Tyrant! to the World unkind!

Pher.
O Sir! the King does want your pitty now,
I left the Pallace Sir to seek for you.

Sosius.
What then it seems he does repent too late.

Pher.
Yes Sir! he now repents what he has done,
And calls on Mariamne, now she's gone.
The Furies sting his Soul with such remorse,
He now his Servants, now, himself does Curse.
He threatens Death and a Revenge on all.
But yet the storm seems on himself to fall:
Just now he's gone, and none did dare withstand
Wrath in his Eyes, a Dagger in his hand.
Distracted thus, he towards the Prison made,
Where her dead body back they have convey'd.
'Tis you alone his Fury can asswage,
No other dares oppose his fatal Rage.

Sosius.
Come! let us go! lest we should come too late:
I must avert, though he deserves that Fate.

[Exeunt.

Scene the Last

The Scene opened, Mariamne appears laid on a Couch as Beheaded.
Enter Alexandra.
Alexan.
So much Confusion I meet every where,
I have no doubt for my increasing fear.
See there's the Cause. Alas! this dismal sight
O'rewhelms my sence with horrours dark as Night.
Nature's too strong,
And keeps my Soul in Prison here too long.
But I will give no Rest to my sad mind,
Till I a way to Death, or Vengeance find.
Tyrant, at thee, my just revenge shall fly;
And then contented with my Fate, I'le dye.

[Exit.
Enter Tyridates and Arsanes.
Tyrid.
See where she lyes Arsanes! see she's dead!
And my enfeebled Soul is with her fled.
Here I my grief will forfeit at the Eye,
And gazing thus upon this Object, dye.
I feel the little blaze of Life decrease,
And yet my mind enjoys no kind of Peace.
I would have time
With my own hands to tear his heart away,
Who could such Innocence to Death betray.
But ah my Soul is flutt'ring to be gone,
And leaves Revenge to the just Gods alone.

Arsa.
Oh Sir, your Courage should support you now.

Tyrid.
My Life Arsanes to the Queen is due.
Was't not enough, (Oh aggravating thought!)
That the Queen dyed, and dyed too by my fault!
I caus'd the Cruelties she did sustain;
After all this, can I behind remain?
No, I would strike a Dagger to my heart,
Had not my kinder grief perform'd that part:
My juster sorrow sudden death affords,
Without the help of Poyson, Wound, or Swords:
Arsanes help, remains of Life are small:
At my ador'd Queens feet direct my fall.

Arsan.
Shall grief thus overcome?

Tyrid.
O yes, I find
Deaths kind embraces all my sences bind.
The world turns round, and by degrees I gain
A kind of Resurrection from my pain.
Farewell my kind Arsanes.

Arsan.
Oh Sir stay.

Tyrid.
Accept dead Queen, this Homage which I pay.
At my approach be not offended now,
The strictest Vertue may this grace allow:
Thy Vow to Herod's Cancel'd here, and I
Now gain that Bliss you did in Life deny,
And we may now come nearer when we dye.

Enter Herod with a Dagger in his hand.
Herod.
Where is the Queen! Oh she is dead; she's dead—
Thou lyest—it can't be—yet from me she's fled.
See there she lyes, Murder'd by my Command;
Here I alive, her Bloody Husband stand.

Tyrid.
Thanks my kind heart! my blood new Vitals takes;
Rows'd by that form my drooping Spirit wakes.

[draws.
Herod.
Ha! Tyridates!

[draws.
Tyrid.
Tyrant, art thou here?

Herod.
Usurper, how darest thou invade this place?
If Life thou lovest, take hence thy hated face.
So great a Passion none but she e're gave:
I'm Jealous of that Beauty in her Grave.

Tyrid.
Monster, when by my hand thy blood is spilt,
To meet Damnation equal to thy Guilt;
At that blest minute thy black Soul shall flye,
May Heaven but hate thee half so much as I.

Herod.
Have at thy heart, thy fury I defy.
Two fiercer Foes, Fate on one Stage can't bring;
A desp'rate Lover, and a Rival King.

[They make a full Pass, and both fall; Tyridates at Mariamnes feet.
Tyrid.
Revenge, thou'st done thy part, now Love go on;
And finish what Mariamnes Eyes begun.
Though it grows dark, my Ghost shall rove about,
And never stop till it has found thine out.
To do thee Homage, when in Heaven we meet,
There as on Earth I'le fall before thy feet.

[dyes,
Herod.
Ha! into what Confusion am I hurl'd,
Hee'l be my Rival in the other World.
If Souls can fight, I thee to Battle dare,
And mine shall hence only to meet thine there.
As my blood cooles, my frighted sence looks home
On my past deeds, and what I have to come.
Here stand my Crimes, and there Eternity;
Men take the largest prospect when they dye.
Just Souls may mount, but mine I fear descends,
There Love, there Jealousy, here Tyrant ends.

[Dyes.
Arsa.
A Roman Courage in my breast I find,
And a disdainful scorn to stay behind:
But I must live in kindness to thy name,
And keep my hated life to speak thy same.

[Exit.
Enter Salome.
Salom.
[Stabs her self.
Enter Sosius, Pheroras, Arsanes, and Attendants.
[falls.

[dyes.
Sosius.
Come let us from this dismal place be gon,
Where Cruelty and Love so much have done.

Pheroras.
Love, Jealousy, and Spight, conspir'd thy fall:
But thou, great Queen, hast over-come them all.
Faire Innocence, how e're supprest, will rise;
And Vertue, though she suffers, never dyes.

Exeunt Omnes.