University of Virginia Library

SCENE THE LAST.

HEROD, IDAMAS, NARBAS,
HEROD.
Hah Narbas! Why this haste! Just heaven! In tears!
That face of woe! What terrors at the sight!
Pierce thro' my inmost soul!

NARBAS.
My lord—

HEROD.
Say on;
Proceed, thou dreadful harbinger of ill.

NARBAS.
My faultering voice dies on my lips; I would—
But cannot—

HEROD.
Mariamne—

NARBAS.
Oh! What pangs
Of sharp remorse! Of unavailing grief!

HEROD.
Is then the fatal moment?—

NARBAS.
It is past.
She is no more.

HEROD.
Dead! Dead! Great God!

NARBAS.
Oh! Learn
What a superiour blessing thou hast lost:
What blood, of worth unspeakable, thy hand
Hath rashly shed. This debt her memory claims,
And virtue basely wrong'd; nay, 'tis a debt
I owe to thee, to thy insulted honour.
No Herod, no, she never injured thee;
Her heart was always pure. E'en when Sohemus
Fought in her cause, I saw her shun his aid
With detestation; I beheld her fly
To save thy life, regardless of her own.

HEROD.
What do I hear! Beyond example wretched!
O, dire extremity of hopeless anguish!
What hast thou said?

NARBAS.
That moment, when her heart
With noblest animation fraught, inspired
The generous purpose, came thy cruel orders,
And she was led to death. While Salome
With speed malicious hurried on her doom.

HEROD.
Monster! By my reluctant justice spared!
Fell monster! What avengement waits thy crimes!
Oh! That her blood, that mine—Narbas proceed,
And kill me quite with the soul-harrowing tale.

NARBAS.
What language shall I use? How to thine ear
Unfold the rest? Forced by thy guards from hence,
E'en from the palace of her ancestors,
With daring violence; she follow'd them,
Nor utter'd one reproach accusing thee.
No fear expressing, no affected pride,
Upon her brow was majesty pourtray'd
Blended with meekness. Innocence most pure,
And modesty which every heart engaged,
Within her eyes sat throned, and darted forth
The beams her conscious soul supplied. Around her
A brighter lustre her misfortunes cast,
And heighten'd every charm. Priests, Hebrews, all,
With hands upraised, with tears and loud laments
Conjured the soldiers on their heads to turn
The slaughtering steel, with horrid cries conjured them.
Yet mid their wild extremity of woe
While every eye wept Mariamne's fate,
Thee too they mourn'd; a sentence they exclaim'd,
So cruel, would consume thy life with grief,
And overwhelm thee with remorse eternal.

HEROD.
Immortal power! How every word inflicts
A dreadful wound!

NARBAS.
She felt for their distress,
And as she past along spake comfort to them.
At length upon the fatal scaffold placed,
Lifting her hands opprest with shameful chains,
“Cruel (she said) and most ill-fortuned Herod!
“Thy Mariamne on the verge of life
“Weeps thee alone. Oh! Be this act the last
“Of thy injustice! Live and reign hereafter
“With happier auspices! With eye more mild
“Behold my people, look upon my children!
“Give them thy love—which blessing to obtain,
“I would with transport die.” Serene she spake
In conscious innocence, then downward bent
That lovely face, whose modest charms so oft
Had caught the eye of wonder. I beheld
The parricidal steel uplifted high
I saw it fall—

HEROD.
Dead! Dead, my Mariamne!
And do I still survive! O sacred Manes!
Dear shade of her, whom I must still adore!
Bloody and pale remains of beauty's rare
And perfect masterpiece! I come, I come,
I follow thee, at least, my Mariamne,
And rush into the darkness of the tomb.
Why am I thus restrain'd? Perfidious subjects!
Hah! Dare ye from my hands intent on death,
To wrest my sword? Most loved! Most injured! Thee,
Thee I invoke! Now armed with vengeance come!
Pour all thy wrath upon me! Tear this heart,
Which yet feels warm thy glowing image there.
Oh, welcome death!

[He faints.
NARBAS.
His senses fail; he sinks
Under the vast affliction.

HEROD.
What dire clouds
Thus gather thick o'er my benighted soul?
Gloomy and black grim Melancholy sits,
And weighs my senses down. Why am I left,
Abandon'd to those agonies of woe
Which rack my frame? My eyes dart round in vain
No sister I behold; no Mariamne.
Do you then weep? And dare you not approach me?
Hapless Jerusalem, dost thou avoid
The presence of thy king! What have I done?
Why am I thus the horror of mankind?
Who from this gulph of my calamity
Will guide me forth to day? Whose lenient hand
Shall softly touch, and heal the festering wound
Of long-protracted anguish? Call her hither;
Lead Mariamne to me.

NARBAS.
Mariamne,
My lord!

HEROD.
Aye Mariamne; well I know
The sight of her will with a happy calm
Soothe each perturbed passion; When she casts,
(She whom I love and fear) her glance on me,
My heart feels lighter, and my hours flow on
More gratefully serene. Her very name
Already hath appeased the rage of grief;
And beams of comfort gild the shades of woe.
Let her approach.

NARBAS.
My lord—

HEROD.
I will behold her.

NARBAS.
Hast thou, alas! forgot that she's no more?

HEROD.
What dost thou say, barbarian!

NARBAS.
His ideas.
Swerve from their wonted course, by his misfortunes
Rapt from himself.

HEROD.
Hah! Mariamne dead!
Oh, reason, why break forth thy dreadful rays?
O conscious light, most sad, replete with horror,
Wherefore hast thou again usurp'd my soul?
Detested place, yet smoaking with the streams
Of her pure blood! Ye walls which I have rear'd!
And thou extensive palace, sink in dust!
With the vast ruins of thy haughty towers
O'erwhelm the spot where Mariamne fell,
Untimely fell!—Hah! Mariamne dead!
And I her murderer! Awake revenge!
Tear this vile monster gorg'd with human gore!
Ye subjects who have lost her, 'gainst my life
Arm, arm, transfix me with a thousand wounds!
Thou heaven, where now she dwells, thy thunders send
Prone down, and crush me with the flaming bolt!