University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

SOHEMUS, NARBAS, AMMON, ATTENDANTS.
NARBAS.
The time is urgent, Herod is arrived,
He sees again the banks of Judah's stream,
And Salome who manages with art
The interest which she still retains, already
Strives by her counsels to ensnare his soul.
The servile courtiers throng in crouds around him;
The priests with waving palms expect his presence,
And Idamas, whom well thou know'st, precedes him.

SOHEMUS.
I know his services and past deserts
Have been but ill repaid; with zealous love
He always hath preserved his faith unshaken
For Mariamne; and with sage advice
Tempering impetuous warmth, hath often soothed
His master's headstrong fury.

NARBAS.
He will soon
Appear before thee. Meantime Mariamne,
Just ready to depart, stops, blames herself,
And on th'importance of the great design
Reflecting, stands astonish'd; tho' prepared,
Her rigid virtue dreads the thoughts of flight.
Her mother at her feet, with throbbing heart
Full fraught with terror, to her children points,
Bedews her with her tears, and trembling begs
That she will quit this fatal place with speed.
Yet still she fluctuates, doubts, and will I fear
Prolong too late the dangerous time. But thou
With generous care must hasten her departure.
On thee depend her fortune and her life,
The rarest object, the most precious gift
With which consenting heaven e'er bless'd the earth.
Stretch forth thy shielding arm, protect, preserve
Th'illustrious sufferers, save, Oh, save from death,
Th'unhappy offspring of a line of kings.
May I inform her that thy guards are ready?
Hast thou prepared them?

SOHEMUS.
All things are disposed
With proper care; she may depart this instant.

NARBAS.
Wilt thou consent too that a faithful servant
Should on her flight attend?

SOHEMUS.
Go; far from hence
Accompany her steps; these odious confines
Deserve not Mariamne. O ye waves,
The sacred freight committed to your trust
Receive propitious! And may bounteous heaven
Pitying her deep distress, each envious cloud
Dispel, and cause a purer sun to shine!
And thou, old man, how fortunate thy lot
To follow her! True model thou for all
Who dwell in courts! thy fate supremely happy,
For thou wilt share the smiles of Mariamne.

SCENE II.

SOHEMUS, AMMON, ATTENDANTS ON SOHEMUS.
SOHEMUS.
But Herod is already here; the sound
Of the shrill brass re-echoing thro' the dome
Announces his return. Just Heaven! He comes
And strikes my soul with dread; perhaps at once
With sudden aim his cruelty will make
The work of vengeance sure. Ah! Would the queen
Had left for ever these abodes of guilt!
Why cannot I accompany her flight?
Yet, may I not by absence serve her more?
Nor, to preserve such charms, revenge the wrongs
Of suffering innocence, can malice dare
Reproach me with a crime. But Idamas
I see advances.

SCENE III.

SOHEMUS, IDAMAS, AMMON, ATTENDANTS.
SOHEMUS.
To the king, my friend
The tribute I resign of homage vain,
And frivolous respect; officious guests,
Unreal types of friendship with the great;
Amusive toys cheating the vulgar croud
Who gaze with curious eye; display'd with pomp,
Loath'd and rejected by the conscious heart.
But say, by Rome's arbitrement once more
The diadem thy master's brow adorns;
Doth he deserve to wear it? Is he come
With rage inspired, or breathing gentle peace?
Are we to fear repeated cruelties?
Or will he bless his people?

IDAMAS.
May just heaven,
Which fills with conscious dread the perjured breast,
Far from his sight disperse the mists of error,
And dark imposture's clouds! Whoe'er with true
And honest hearts shun flattery and guile,
By Salome, and Mazael's busy care
Are banished from his presence; dreadful secrets
I hear they have disclosed; a deadly pale
Sits on his cheeks, in agony he raves,
And of the fury of his soul expressive,
His glowing eyes, on all around him dart
The flash of terror. Well to thee is known
With what assiduous industry their creatures
Thrust back approaching Truth, and her fair form
Hold in captivity. This mighty victor
Who with the terror of his arms appall'd
The souls of kings, this monarch whose exploits,
E'en Rome admired, whose wide-spread fame yet fills
Astonish'd Asia with dismay, at home
Beholds the lustre of his glory fade;
Detested by his wife, in treacherous wiles
Entangled by his sister, with a mind
Torn by suspicions, overwhelm'd by grief.
How purposed or inclined he now returns,
I must profess my ignorance. While him
Each eye beholds with pity, murmurs rise
Which prophecy the queen's approaching fate.
But none can penetrate his secret thoughts,
Or the swift movements of his troubled heart.
Now he observes a fierce and savage silence,
Then Mariamne's name escapes his lips;
He threatens, sighs, and trembling while he speaks,
Gives secret orders, which he strait recalls.
Her race was ever odious to his soul,
Which seems as if desirous to revenge
Th'excess of love she kindled in his breast.
Much do I fear for her.

SOHEMUS.
Enough; the queen
Is then in danger. Ammon, follow me.
Haste! Let me save unguarded innocence.

IDAMAS.
Thus wilt thou shun the presence of the king?
When thy high rank, authority and virtue,
Might curb obtrusive malice, and restrain
Its tongue intent on mischief?

SOHEMUS.
Nobler cares,
And more important interests prompt me now
With warm inspiring breath. My first great task
To cross and intercept the guilty purpose
E'er it o'ertake the crime.

[Exit.
IDAMAS.
What new impending storms, what dreadful evils
Do I foresee? Thou mighty God of Israel
Oh, change the heart of Herod!

SCENE IV.

HEROD, MAZAEL, IDAMAS, ATTENDANTS.
HEROD.
Hah! doth Sohemus too avoid my sight?
Where'er I tread what horrors rise before me!
Heaven, am I always destin'd to inspire
No sentiments but those of hate or terror!
Is every human bosom closed against me?
Odious to Mariamne, to my people,
And even to myself, I wear, alas,
A joyless crown: and only am arrived
To reap the dreadful harvest of afflictions
Which my own hands had sown—O God! O God!

MAZAEL.
Calm these tumultuous passions, I conjure thee,
These groundless transports.

HEROD.
Wretched that I am,
What have I done?

MAZAEL.
Shall Herod weep? That prince
So fortunate, so wise in all his plans,
Parthia's dire scourge, the glorious friend of Rome?
Call these resplendent titles to thy mind
By victory won, by Anthony confirm'd.
Think when Augustus placed thee by his side,
Marching distinguish'd from the croud of kings,
Selected by his choice. Submissive, lo!
Jerusalem reveres thy sacred laws,
By right of conquest thine; and shines once more
Guarded by thee, in all her ancient splendour.
While she her monarch's wish'd return beholds
Fortune's prime favorite. Sure never king
Could boast such happiness in peace or war.

HEROD.
No, all is one vast blank; the spacious earth
Contains not in its ample round for me
A single blessing. Fate hath plunged me down
Into the gulph of misery, and t'augment
Still more the weight of her incumbent horrors,
I know I have deserved them.

IDAMAS.
Might I speak
Unblamed, and to my royal master's ear
Bring honest truth; it is incircling love
Which fixes firm th'august and sacred throne,
Not servile awe; the King, whose influence cheers
The hearts of others, feels the sun-shine pure
Of true delight irradiating his own.
Ah! Who would always struggle with the waves
Of anxious care, when its impoison'd source
Would at his bidding cease at once to flow?
No more, my lord, permit unworthy tongues
With vile insidious calumny to wound
Thy honour and repose; nor flatterers base
Far from thee to exile the faithful few
Who pine in secret, wishing, but in vain
To serve their sovereign; then would Israel soon
Charm'd by thy virtues—

HEROD.
Dost thou really think
That Herod ever can be loved? So changed,
So very different from his former self?

MAZAEL.
E'en to the height of envy all adore
Thy unexampled greatness.

IDAMAS.
One alone,
One heart resists, and that too may be conquered.

HEROD.
I'm a barbarian, and unfit to reign.

IDAMAS.
Thy grief is just; and if for Mariamne—

HEROD.
That name, that fatal name, alas! condemns me.
Thence keen reproach upbraids me, and displays
Before my agonizing soul th'excess
Of cruelty and weakness.

MAZAEL.
In her bosom
Dwells never-yielding hate; she shuns thy sight.

HEROD.
I flew to her's.

MAZAEL.
Indeed!

HEROD.
Can that surprize thee?
Do not these starts of passion, the big tear
Forced from me by remorse, this sudden change,
This vehemence of grief; say, do not all
Plainly demonstrate that I came from her?
Harrass'd with doubts, urged on by hate and love,
I left the insipid croud, the tedious court,
And secretly retired to visit her.
Heavens! What an interview! What dreadful struggles
Of my conflicting thoughts! What tortures dire!
In her indignant eyes was my injustice
Clearly pourtray'd; yet, trembling with alarms,
Her looks wild-straying dared not fall on me.
And tho' I wept, methought I seem'd still more
The object of her terror.

MAZAEL.
All, my lord,
Conspires to prove, that her invenom'd hate
Thy utmost kindness never can disarm.
This dangerous respect enflames her pride.

HEROD.
Hated by Mariamne! Gracious heaven!
I have too well deserved it; yes, reduced
To fortune's worst extreme I must forgive
Her hatred of a wretch so stain'd with guilt.

MAZAEL.
With guilt! Ah, sire, can memory ever fail
To recollect the conduct of the queen
Which justifies thy deeds? Her fierce contempt?
Her insolence of rage? Her dark designs?
Her father's plots against thee? Did she not
Derive her being from thy bitterest foe?
Hircanus with a mind that teem'd with peril
Always betray'd thee. Th'Asmonæan Faction
Was grown to such a height of daring power
That nought but that successful stroke—

HEROD.
No more.
He was her father, and I should have spared him.
But rendered callous by the lust of empire,
My soul was deaf to every other sound.
Sad victims to my barbarous policy
Her kindred fell. By me the father bled,
The daughter was proscribed. I wish'd to hate her;
Too well my conscious heart hath known to load
Her breast with woe; and heaven in its revenge
Hath doom'd me to the fond excess of love.

IDAMAS.
Trust me, when merit claims our warm affection,
It is a virtue, not a weakness in us.
Worthy the bounties heav'n hath lavish'd on thee,
Amid its choicest blessings rank thy love.

HEROD.
Frenzy which I detest! Hircanus! Oh!
Ye sacred manes!

IDAMAS.
Banish from thy thoughts
The fatal recollection,

MAZAEL.
And the queen—
May she too draw th'oblivious veil around her!

HEROD.
O wretched father! More unhappy husband!
These horrors heap'd on horrors, blood on blood,
The murder of her sire, and all the afflictions
Which I have pour'd on her devoted head,
Endear her still the more.—Oh, if her heart—
Her faith—why this delay? Know, Idamas,
Amply will I atone—Go seek, inform her
My soul enslaved, and subject to her will,
Lays at her feet my glory, throne, and life.
Amongst her sons I'll choose a successor.
She hath accused my sister as the cause
Of her calamities. It is enough;
This instant Salome shall quit our court;
A nearer tye demands the sacrifice.
Henceforth shall Mariamne rule alone
With power unbounded.

MAZAEL.
Hah! Will Herod then—

HEROD.
I will—'tis fix'd as fate. My heart beholds her,
Considers her from this auspicious moment
As heaven's most precious gift, which I receive
With reverential gratitude. How strong
The force of love! I feel the conqueror here,
To Mariamne shall I owe my virtue.
Asia hath seen, with shame I must confess it,
A splendid, but a barbarous monarch reign.
Dreaded, admired, respected by my people,
But hated; circled by adoring slaves,
Without a single friend. Too long my heart
Stoop'd to a sister's influence; than myself
More cruel in her sanguinary schemes,
She deluged with my subjects' blood the land,
With added terrors stretch'd my sceptre forth
And crush'd them with its weight. While Mariamne
Felt all their woes, forgot her own distress,
Lost in delightful sympathy for them,
And to her husband's presence brought their tears:
It is determined. I will be more just,
But less severe; and by the public good
Will strive to make her happy; while beneath
A milder sway, the state shall breathe anew.
My soul is altered, in a different mould
By Mariamne form'd. Suspicious fear
Hurled from the throne, my hands shall curb oppression,
And cloathe each subject's cheek in smiles of joy.
I will reign o'er them like a citizen,
And gain all hearts, that I may merit her's.
Go—find her—why this tardiness? nor fail
The agonies of my repentant soul,
And all its wild emotions to describe
With faithful tongue. Tell her that my remorse
Is equal to my rage.—Go—fly—return.
What do I see? My sister! Thou retire.
[To Mazael.
To what vexations is my life condemn'd!

SCENE V.

HEROD, SALOME.
SALOME.
I share them all; nor can I but express
My wonder, that Sohemus and the queen
Should thus avoid thy presence, and betray
So little of affection and respect.

HEROD.
One I must blame, the other I excuse.
Press not the subject further.

SALOME.
This Sohemus
Whom justly thou condemn'st, hath always kindled
The queen's resentment.

HEROD.
Ah! What countless horrors
Have burst upon our heads! I seek to end them.
Stern and implacable, I purchased nought
But fear from others, misery to myself.
Too long revenge and hate have pour'd their streams
Of baleful venom o'er my sad abode.
Thine and the queen's too ranc'rous enmity
Would prove a never-failing source of torment.
For thy repose, my sister, for my own,
That we may both be happy, let us part.
Quit this unfortunate and gloomy mansion.
It must be so.

SALOME.
Just Heaven! what do I hear?
O fatal enemy!

HEROD.
Thy king commands,
Thy brother shall intreat thee. Oh may ne'er
This hapless brother be compell'd henceforth
To give one cruel order! Never more
Unrein stern vengeance! Ne'er shed blood again!
My life hath been a scene of restless tumult,
Oh, spare me, nor imbitter what remains.
Murmur; complain of me, lament thyself;
But leave the court.

SALOME.
Ah, sire, I murmur not,
I utter no complaint; it is enough
That just and necessary in thy sight
My banishment appears? taught to comply
E'en with thy least desires, to thy command
I yield a prompt obedience. Tho' my heart
Glows with the injury, thou shalt not see me
Attest before thee nature's sacred tye,
Her voice can seldom pierce the ear of kings;
And where the passions dwell, relationship
Pleads its just rights in vain. I shall not boast
That zeal, and warm sincerity of friendship,
Which now begins to be displeasing to thee;
Much less awaken memory with the thought
Of all my various services o'erpast.
Ah! I perceive a glance hath quite effaced them
And left a total blank.—But say, can Herod
Believe that Mariamne will forget
The fatal order pointed at her life?
The constant object of her fear, wilt thou
Fear her no longer? Are her wishes hid?
Her sentiments unknown? Who shall prevent
By wholesome counsel the revengeful blow
Which now her soul may in its raging mood
With ease inflict? What watchful eyes intent
To guard thy life, shall trace her mazy plots,
And every snare unravel? Who shall curb
Her headstrong violence? Dost thou imagine
That when by tenderness disarm'd, and placed
Within her power, the traitor love will speak
And charm her from her purpose! Hah! Will scorn
Like hers excessive, that inhuman mind
Inspiring deeds of horror—

HEROD.
Ah! Permit me
To doubt a while her scorn, and let my soul
Enjoy the flattering hope that I may
Recover her affection; if I err, still,
Respect my error, nor thus idly strive
To undeceive me. I would fain believe,
Nay it is riveted within my breast,
Proud as thou art, that thy malevolence
Raised a barrier betwixt the queen and me.
That thy inflexible and barbarous nature
Hath hardened Mariamne's heart against me,
And but for thee I had been less detested.

SALOME.
Oh, could'st thou guess, could'st thou but comprehend
To what intent—

HEROD.
No more; I will not hear thee.
Let Mariamne threaten at her will
A life, beneath the load of which I groan.
Let her cut short its course; If die I must,
At least the hand I love will guide the blow.

SALOME.
Ah! I can hold no longer; nor by silence
Foster thy blind delusion; tho' exposed
To swift destruction, I am bound to serve thee.
Let the dire thunder burst upon my head,
Yet will I speak.—O most ill-fated husband!
Know Mariamne, and be whelm'd with shame,
What is the fierce disdain which arms her breast?
Or what her hate?—Another is beloved.

HEROD.
Another is beloved! Barbarian! Hah!
And darest thou in my presence cast a stain
On such uncommon virtue! Is it thus
Thou stab'st thy brother? Thus thou bid'st farewel,
Leaving behind deep fix'd th'invenom'd steel?
And Discord waving round her blazing torch?
And shame, and rage and jealousy to tear,
To harrow up my soul?—Hah! Mariamne!—
Impossible. I will not deign t'inquire
Into the groundless charge; thy noxious counsels
Have ruled with sway too absolute; long time
Have I believed thee, heaven avenges now
My fond credulity. I have been doom'd
For ever doom'd, to fix my love on those
Who hated me the most—yes, here, at me,
At me alone thy persecution aims.

SALOME.
Nay then at distance from thee—

HEROD.
Stir not hence.
Another is beloved!—Give to my sight,
Shew me, thou cruel monitress, whose blood
Must quench this vengeance unessay'd before.
Pursue thy work, and make my woes complete.

SALOME.
Since 'tis thy will—

HEROD.
Strike—Lo! my throbbing heart!
Speak, name the traitor; but whoe'er he be,
Think that on thee too my revenge may fall,
For thou hast chaced my darling error from me.
Thus warn'd; proceed.

SALOME.
No matter.

HEROD.
Speak at once.

SALOME.
It is—

SCENE VI.

HEROD, SALOME, MAZAEL.
MAZAEL.
Oh, haste, my gracious lord! nor suffer
The perpetration of so foul a crime!
The queen this instant is prepared for flight,
Sohemus bears her hence.

HEROD.
Hah! Mariamne!
Sohemus! Where am I! All-righteous heaven!

MAZAEL.
Her mother and her sons have left the palace;
The means, by which t'effect this shameful purpose,
Sohemus hath devised. A secret escort
Is station'd near the walls, and Mariamne
Waits but their signal to depart; she goes,
And thy fond eyes will ne'er behold her more.

HEROD.
Hah! The dark spell dissolves; the orient day
Shines bright around; mark, Salome, and know
Thy brother by his kindled rage; away!
Let us surprize the traitress; and then determine
Whether this breast still bears the soul of Herod,
And still can urge the terrors of revenge.