University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

SALOME, MAZAEL.
MAZAEL.
This recent blow urged home, this mystery
Of dreadful import, which by thy contrivance
To Mariamne and her mother's ear
Hath been convey'd; this secret now disclosed,
Th'inhuman mandate, will their union break,
Seal the divorce, and render it eternal.
Herod will ne'er concieve thou could'st betray
His confidence to thy inveterate foe.
And in the restless tumults of his soul
Will seek no friend but thee to lenify
Thy own inflicted wounds. To rouse the storm,
Or calm it's fury will be thine alone;
Divide, and rise to empire; this thy lot.

SALOME.
Ah! what, it's scope of action circumscribed,
Can policy avail! my deep-laid schemes
All frustrate, have betray'd me to my ruin;
Each deed is now the offspring of despair.
A fatal letter from the king demands
That at the feet of her imperious rival
His sister should with low prostration fall.
I thought Sohemus would have lent his firm
And generous aid; my influence, Herod own'd.
Now am I desolate alas! and stripp'd
Of every succour. O'er my luckless head
Totters the building which with utmost skill
These hands had rear'd. I see there is a time
When fortune ruling tramples in the dust
Each human effort; every toil is vain;
When prudence on destructive rocks is lost,
And art but wounds itself; yes, I perceive,
I feel the power invincible, supreme,
Which in our neighbouring climates at it's will,
Sports with their fands, unstable as our fates.

MAZAEL.
Obey thy brother; to the tempest yield,
Stand not erect and brave it's passing rage;
Time may recover all!

SALOME.
Vain consolation!
O wretch! who from the tardy step of time
Expects his happiness! wouldst thou that I
Should trust futurity's deceitful hour,
Seeing the injuries thus heap'd upon me?

MAZAEL.
At least Sohemus to his realm returns,
Justly gainst him incens'd, thou needst no more
Fear Mariamne; jealousy may rest.

SALOME.
Her conduct, I confess, mysterious still,
Eludes my penetration. But will he
Less treacherous prove? less criminal? Am I
Insulted less? diminish'd are my foes?
Or they who look on me with hidden envy?
Or base unmanly friends? no—I must strive
With my approaching fall, the secret insult,
And public hate. E'en now before the smiles
Of Mariamne, prone in adoration,
The frantic people their triumphant taunts
Prepare for my disgrace. I see all bend
To her new power, and droop beneath its blaze,
While my week fading honours are eclipsed.
But that my soul should sicken at her glory,
That I should pine in anguish and despair,
Will this suffice? no, soon the stroke of death
My ignominious lot, and her renown
Will glaringly demonstrate. I cast off
All flattery here, nor foster it's delusions.
So circumstanced, myself would dash the front
Of every foe, and tread the aspiring down.
She cannot reign, unless by my destruction;
Nor can her just resentment want to learn
That I'm too dangerous to be spared. Mean while
O dire constraint! O load of infamy!
My high exalted soul stoop to her.
I come to soothe her pride with my respect,
And on my own misfortunes and my shame
Utter congratulations.

MAZAEL.
She approaches.

SALOME.
Must I then see her! thus compell'd!—

SCENE II.

MARIAMNE, ELIZA, SALOME, MAZAEL, NARBAS.
SALOME.
I come,
A most sincere partaker of thy joy.
Benignant Rome to me a brother gives,
To thee a husband, crown'd, begirt with power,
And worthy Mariamne. His bright deeds
His former triumphs, all his future plans
To swell the glorious catalogue, the name
Of Great with which the applauding world conspires
To grace his prosperous fortune, the full trust
Of the imperial senate, and it's rights
To him consign'd; these are the gifts he brings
To lay before thy feet. Henceforth possess
His soul, his empire; this with ardent zeal
My warmth of friendship covets for thy virtue.
And all my cares shall tend more close to draw
The happy bond which must for ever join
Thy heart and his in one.

MARIAMNE.
The cares of Salome
I neither ask for, nor expect, too well
I know her heart, and have with justice scann'd it.
I know by what base plots, what mazy snares
Her ineffectual hatred hath pursued
The life of Mariamne. From herself
Judging of me, she dreads perhaps my vengeance.
But learn, and mark the difference of our souls!
Banish thy groundless fear, for I despise
The treacherous crime, nor stoop I to avenge it.
I've seen each little art, and pardon all.
I leave thee to reflection, to remorse,
If after such attempts, such vile endeavours,
A heart like thine can listen to their voice.

SALOME.
Surely too far by prejudice impell'd
These taunts severe proceed; against their force
I set my conduct, my assiduous toil,
And Herod's approbation; Mariamne
Will own perhaps the justness of their plea.

MARIAMNE.
I have already told thee that my mind
Will bury in oblivion every wrong.
Conscious superiority, and glory
Demand this sacrifice. I can forgive,
But I can ne'er believe thee.

MAZAEL.
By the power
Who rules above, thrice-honour'd Mariamne
I swear, that in my duty, with regret—

MARIAMNE.
Mazael no more: for each excuse of thine
Is but a new affront. Obey the king,
That is thy office. To my tyrants sold,
Be thou their faithful drudge, subservient still
To the behests of fury and revenge;
I shall not in abasement stoop so low,
E'er to complain of thee.
Why linger here?
[To Salome.
Go; to the king my secret thoughts disclose;
No mighty force is needful to revive
That rage within his bosom, which my eyes
Shall scorn to soothe. With blackest calumny
Your bands of infamous accusers arm!
Long have I borne their obloquy unpunish'd,
And insolence hath prospered. Still the same;
Nought to each base attempt shall I oppose
But spotless virtue, and a just disdain.

SALOME.
Insufferable arrogance!—Perchance
Had prudence dictated, she would have taught
Not thus with open rashness to have braved
The sister of thy Lord. Vain as thou art
To think that all must bend and meanly crouch
In homage to thy charms: because I seem
A desperate loser, that the total sum
Of power thy hands can grasp. Mistaken rival!
Thy victory may be fatal. Triumph now!
But looking forward—dread the dire event!

SCENE III.

MARIAMNE, ELISA, NARBAS.
ELISA.
Ah! why thus urge to passionate excess
Foes, ardent to pursue thee to thy ruin?
Tho' pausing for a moment, still perhaps
Herod's avenging fury o'er thy head
Hangs threatening. And when death would fly far distant
Instead of warding off the fatal blow,
Thou bidd'st him strike. What guardian arm remains
To shield thee now? Sohemus, brave defender
Of thy illustrious life, whose name long time
In fetters of respectful awe hath held
Oppressive violence, now leaves the court;
With him depart thy hopes. A baleful power
Augustus, to thy husband, delegates.
Who knows with what resolves, and how disposed
He will this day return? Each thought, each deed,
Even his love, with terror is attended.
Thy conscious heart views all the horrid prospect;
Say, hath not madness e'en beyond the tomb
Impell'd his gloomy jealousy? my soul
Still shudders at the fierce relentless mandate.
Why to thy foes thus unreserved? why stoop not
To honest art? why not disguise thy feelings?
Virtue alas! when not by prudence guided,
But leads to danger.

MARIAMNE.
Just is thy advice.
My soul hath been too lofty and unyielding.
A stranger to the paths of art, tho' much
I need its aid.—I will consult Sohemus—
And the direction of my future fate
Resign to him.—Let him approach my presence.—
I will expect him here.—By his advice
My actions shall be govern'd.—Bold with the plan
With which my breast is fraught, th'event uncertain,
And greatly to be fear'd.—Conduct him hither.

[Exit Elisa.

SCENE IV.

MARIAMNE, NARBAS.
MARIAMNE.
Thou too, my valued Narbas, help to fix
The jarring thoughts of my unsettled mind.
Thy virtue, thy attachment to my service,
Thy sage experience, have long time possess'd
My confidence entire. To thee my heart
And all its secret purposes are known;
Th'afflictions which I suffer, and the train
Of dire calamities which I foresee.
Thou hast beheld my mother in the depth
Of hopeless anguish, urging me with tears
T'accompany her flight. Her soul weigh'd down
By no unreal terrors, to her view
Presents each moment Herod in his rage,
Still in her kindred blood embathed, prepared
Before her eyes t'assassinate her daughter.
She wishes that my death-devoted children
From Cæsar may a father's kindness seek,
In Rome, a cradle. Rome, they say, protects
All the unfortunate; at Rome's tribunal
The prostrate world is judged. I will approach
The sovereign arbiter of kings.—Yet still,
Tho' well I know the voice of reason bids
To shun the murtherer's violence, and fate
Allows this only choice; fears, conscious fears,
Whether from virtue, or from weakness, shakes
My inmost soul, while stern reflection tells me
'Tis from a husband I prepare to fly.
And my irresolute and faultering steps,
Spite of myself, refuse to bear me hence.

NARBAS.
These generous fears my admiration claim;
False tho' they are, they spring from native virtue.
Thy heart which self-supported smiles at fortune
And her malicious fury, views appall'd
Even the faint resemblance of a crime,
Yet looks on death unterrified. Oh, banish
These secret feelings, fancy's blind suggestions!
Open thy eyes! look round! by Herod spilt
Thy father's blood following his vengeful steel
Here gush'd on thee. Here fell thy much-loved brother,
Fell in his early prime. In vain the king
His innocence avows, Cæsar deceived
Absolves him of the horrid crime in vain.
The east revolts, and firm in its opinion
Accuses him alone. Oh, place before thee
Thy mother's flowing tears, the injury
Thy sons sustain, thy father's sacred blood,
Herod's fell cruelty, his sister's hate,
And (what strikes me with horror, tho' the idea
Shocks not thy calm serenity of virtue)
Death more than once before thy eyes upraised
Grim brandishing his dart.—But if thy soul
Unshaken views these images of dread,
And dauntless can the yawning tomb survey,
At least protect thy children! leave not them
Without defence! already hath the king
Wrested the rightful hopes of empire from them.
And well thou recollect'st the voice of heaven,
The direful prophecy which now long time
Hath for their fate kept all thy fears awake,
Foretelling that one day a stranger's hand
Should to thy father join thy hapless sons.
A fierce, obdurate, and unpitying Arab
Half this obscure prediction hath accomplish'd.
A dire convincing proof, which leaves no doubt
But the barbarian will fulfil the whole.
To the wild lawless transports of his fury
Nothing is sacred. Now, e'en now perhaps
He comes to realize his bloody threats,
And extirpate the Asmonean race.
Seize then th'auspicious moment, and prevent
His menaced violence, the moment seize
Which saves thy husband from the guilt of murder,
And bears these tender victims far away
From the keen sword unsheath'd by thy oppressors,
Far from th'example of their horrid crimes.
Protected by thy royal ancestors,
By them brought up e'en from my tender years,
Go when thou wilt, and to whatever clime,
Behold me ready to attend thy steps.
Haste! break these chains! be Rome itself thy goal!
Implore the justice of its aweful senate,
Confide thy children's fortune to their hands,
Own'd and adopted by the Roman people.
So pure a virtue with astonishment
Will strike Augustus. If his reign indeed
Deserves the vaunted names of just and happy,
If the transported nations clasp his knees
And hail their common parent; if he merits
This state of glory, he will undertake
Thy cause, and lavish all his care on thee.

MARIAMNE.
This is no time I see for frigid caution,
I hesitate no longer, thy advice;
My mother's tears, the peril of my sons,
That fate whose power may haply drag me on
To more transcendent miseries; all conspire
To fix my wavering mind, I yield. Return;
Bear thou the tidings, and console my mother.
When gloomy night inwraps in shadowy veil
These haunts of guilt, let to the palace wall
A messenger approach to give me notice.
They have prevail'd, necessity requires it,
I am prepared to quit this hateful soil.

SCENE V.

MARIAMNE, SOHEMUS, ELISA.
SOHEMUS.
I come obsequious to thy high behests,
To which I bend as to the laws of heaven;
Say shall this hand the sword of vengeance wield
Against thy foes? Command, and I obey;
Speak, and I rush to action.

MARIAMNE.

SOHEMUS.
No—I revere
Thy orders, and implicitly obey.
My guards are ready to attend thy flight
To distant Italy; dispose of them,
Of me dispose, my heart, my life is thine.
Fly the vindictive monarch; break at once
These inauspicious ties; his punishment
Will equal all his crimes, shouldst thou forsake him,
Banish'd by his injustice, ne'er again
Shall he that form survey, and well I feel
No anguish like to this can rack the soul.
Forgive me, from my lips th'expression fell
Involuntary; the sharp pang of grief
At losing thee, hath forced the secret from me.
It is disclosed, nor can it be recall'd.
But spite of all my weakness, know respect
With the soft impulse intimately blended,
Inspires my bosom, every wish love breathes,
Is to protect thee, to adore thy virtues,
Avenge thy cause, and die.

MARIAMNE.
I thought, alas!
Nor hesitated in the firm belief,
That not my interest only, but my glory
Was to Sohemus dear; when to preserve
My threaten'd life he watch'd these haunts of danger,
I thought compassion was the noble motive;
Little did I suspect a guilty flame
Would add new horrors to the weight of those
Which press me to the earth; or in the midst.
Of numerous perils, that I e'er should blush
At thy benignant care, and dread thy bounty.
Yet tho' thy words have struck me to the soul
My thanks, my gratitude are thine. All hope
Is lost; for ever will I shun thy presence.
I will forget thy passion, not thy virtue.
Nor will reflect on thee but as a hero,
Whose magnanimity till now deserved
My warm esteem; perhaps by longer converse
This may be altered, I shall therefore leave thee
That I may hold it in my mind unshaken.

SOHEMUS.
Stay, Mariamne, know I still deserve it.
Thy glory speaks, I hear no other sound;
For it, for thee, I offer up myself
A willing sacrifice, fired by thy virtue
I too can imitate the bright example,
Thee only have I fled, and will again
Fly from thy sight. I bid farewel for ever
To this abhorred court. Or here remain
If needful, to convince thee of my truth,
Redouble my respect, but ne'er incur
Those censures more, which coming from thy lips
O'erwhelm'd my soul with shame. Indifferent
To every object but what thee concerns,
I'll hazard all, and dare th'extreme of fate.
My faithful troops shall guide thee wheresoe'er
Thy will directs; within these walls some power
I yet retain; the jealous tyrant's vengeance
Affrights not me; but should his sword prevail,
In thy defence 'twere glorious to expire;
To think in my last hour I bled for thee,
And to my life preferr'd thy dearer fame.

MARIAMNE.
Enough; I harbour not the least suspicion.
The generosity which prompts thy deeds
Will never to unworthy passions stoop
Soiling their purity. Yes, I will owe
Still more to thee, and make the sum complete.
But for my sake thou hurriest on to death,
Exposed by me; in thy illustrious steps
How can I tread? How can I tarry here?
My soul confesses and admires thy virtue.

SOHEMUS.
Nay, rather by thy mother's tears be guided,
And by thy firmness more than her alarms,
By thy own danger, not what threatens me.
This is no time to trifle with the tyrant,
All must be hazarded; that he is king
I know it well, but Cæsar is his judge.
Surrounded here by perils, Rome alone
Is thy asylum.—Yet, Oh! bear in mind,
The more Sohemus feels thy beauty's power,
The greater is his victory o'er himself;
That by the kindred ties of royal blood
We are united; and that heaven hath form'd
My heart deserving thine.

MARIAMNE.
I doubt it not.
And in the depth of my despair consult
The Power Supreme, my honour and my duty.

SOHEMUS.
To them do I appeal, their guidance follow;
They from the murderer's hands will rescue thee.