 | Mariamne |  |
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ACT I.
SCENE I.
SALOME, MAZAEL.MAZAEL.
Yes, the supreme authority with which
Herod invested thee, is now at least,
Confirm'd till his return. I flew t'ward Azor,
And suddenly repass'd Samaria's plains
To Jordan's source. In lucky hour I came
The factious Hebrews to confound, and dash
Their towering hopes; thy brother long detain'd
In Rome, throughout th'extent of his domains
Was almost lost to memory: and the people
Forever full of treachery to their kings,
Bold in their words, blind in their wild caprice,
Publish'd aloud that Herod was condemn'd
By Rome, and wore the shackles of a slave.
That in the rank of her great ancestors
The queen was fix'd, by whom again restor'd
The blood of our high-priests should o'er us reign.
I own it with regret, where e'er I moved
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Of holy reverence, and her name the theme
Of dearest estimation. Israel still
Loves with idolatry th'heroic race
From whence she sprang. Her charms, her birth, and more
Her sad misfortunes, have seduced the hearts
Of Judah's sons who look on us with hatred.
And while invoking heaven, to her they gave
The sovereign title, their enthusiast zeal
Seem'd to denounce thy certain fall. I saw
How all the people by these false reports
Were moved, and ripe for tumult; but I spake
And fear succeeded; to their eyes I painted
Herod returning cloath'd with double power,
Entering his realms with vengeance close behind
Attendant on his steps; his name alone
Hath scatter'd terror thro' the land; and now
The Jews in silence mourn their errors past.
SALOME.
Mazael, undoubtedly we soon shall view
The king's approach; the people and myself
Shall own a master; this imperial sway
Which I can scarce be said to have enjoy'd,
Is but a shade whose evanescent form
In passing, disappears. I love my brother;
Yet his good fortune sinks me to the earth,
And Mariamne's triumph is my bane.
MAZAEL.
Fear not thy brother.
SALOME.
Ah! what depth of woe
Shall be our lot, when the queen sees again
Her husband at her feet? This haughty rival
Of my authority, with voice seductive
Tainting the regal ear, hath ever been
Pernicious to our hopes. Her daring soul,
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Eternal hate; on us will fall her vengeance.
Mazael, I have offended her too much
To be forgiven. Self-interest will inspire
The means of our abasement. Hah! what say'st thou!
Dost thou no longer those all-powerful charms
Contemplate with dismay, which tyrannize
Imperious o'er the heart of wretched Herod?
E'er since the fatal nuptials which in one
Their destinies combined, a space almost
Of five revolving years, that wondrous love
Which, as with fascination, struck his soul,
By hate is fed, and strengthened by disdain.
Oft hast thou seen this monarch, whom no tears
Or prayers could bend, cast majesty's dread state
Aside for her, and lowly at her feet
Strive in her eyes, averted now with scorn,
And now indignant glances darting on him,
With fondest assiduity, to read
Those tender looks, which he could never find.
Oft hast thou seen him storm, and sigh, and mourn,
Flatter, incense, menace, and shrink before her.
Fierce in his love, submissive in his rage,
A slave at home; abroad a glorious hero.
Nay more; when giving loose to just revenge
On an ungrateful race, with the sire's blood
His hand yet reeking, he adored the daughter.
And the uplifted sword, still dyed with gore,
Pointed at her, and urged by thee to strike,
Fell harmless at her feet.
MAZAEL.
But think in Rome
Far from her sight removed, the chain stretch'd out
To such a distance, may be broke in twain.
SALOME.
Believe me, his return will close the links;
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Her charms insidious.
MAZAEL.
True, but her proud soul
It's own tormentor, hath unceasing strove
To gain the fix'd aversion of her husband.
By new disdain she will excite his rage,
And place herself the shaft within thy hand
Which now eludes it's grasp. No harmony
Can e'er exist 'twixt those, whom heaven hath form'd
In mutual opposition. Herod always
Gloomy, morose, and jealous, will require
Even against his love, his sister's aid.
SALOME.
When Mariamne strait her sway resumes,
And I am lost.
MAZAEL.
Thee Ascalon expects,
To ornament it's throne, while a retreat
Glorious to thee, a new and splendid court,
And hymeneals which by love's own hand
Have been prepared, will shelter thee at once
From all those storms which Solyma e'erlong
May view, perhaps, burst forth with hideous ruin
Upon our heads. In Ascalon Sohemus
With firm and undisputed title reigns;
Acknowledged and protected by the Romans;
Free, and uncircumscribed by Herod's power,
Dear to his people. In his breast are join'd
The sage's wisdom, and the prince's greatness.
Nought but success thy future days attends,
Herod's supreme directress, or a queen.
SALOME.
Ah! let thy faithful ear my sufferings learn,
And that disgrace which stains my cheeks with shame.
For ever Mariamne was decreed
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Of dignity deprives me, and for her
Sohemus now betrays me.
MAZAEL.
Hah? what, he!
Who hath so long for these espousals waited
The king's return! whose rigid sentiments,
And philosophic lore austere, appeared
To scorn the amorous passion and it's follies,
Vain phantoms of the sons of vanity
Our empty courtiers! would he thus affront
A monarch, his ally!
SALOME.
What wouldst thou say,
Should I inform thee, that the queen and he
In secret understand each other well?
MAZAEL.
I know they are united by the ties
Of blood and friendship; but I ne'er beheld—
SALOME.
No; thou hast not my eyes; with utmost clearness
My new misfortune stands reveal'd before them.
The nuptials are a treacherous pretext only,
Their pomp delay'd, th'indifference of Sohemus,
His language frozen and reserv'd, explain
My ignominious lot, and through my soul
Dart strongest confirmation.
MAZAEL.
Dost thou then
Suspect, that one of manners so severe,
Whose streaming eyes incessantly lament
Her father and her brother doom'd to death,
Whose high-toned spirit (which augments her woes)
Feeds on resentment, and by torture lives,
Would indiscreetly seek the fatal triumph,
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Say can her pride-swol'n bosom stoop to love?
SALOME.
She can at least inspire it; there's the sting.
MAZAEL.
Beware of self-delusion. To a soul
So arrogant th'excess of scorn hath given
What bears the semblance and the shape of virtue;
And in her haughtiness she hath resolved
To pass her life unsullied.
SALOME.
On a rock
That vaunted haughtiness perchance may split.
But what heed I, whether her soaring mind
My perjured lover's faithless bosom charms?
Or whether proving her disdainful power,
Unwillingly she gives me poignant anguish?
Whether she cherishes or not the treasure
From me purloin'd, it is no longer mine;
That thought suffices; thence her pride gains wings;
My shame exalts her glory; she enjoys
With an insulting smile the pangs I feel,
And all the tears I shed. And shall I long
This base constraint endure, and pine in secret?
No; full conviction shall instruct me soon
How far they claim revenge.—Sohemus comes;
Leave me. My fate will now unfold itself.
SCENE II.
SALOME, SOHEMUS, AMMON.SALOME.
Draw near; thy heart was not for treachery form'd,
Nor mine to suffer injuries. The king
At length returns, and no excuse avails.
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Aught but thy own advantage, hide not then
From me thy inmost thoughts; but freely speak.
I dread not that inconstancy to hear
Plainly avow'd, whose light and weak offence
I shall despise; it is not mine to stoop
To the low rage of jealousy, or blush
At an affront, the shame of which is thine.
SOHEMUS.
Attend then while my conduct I explain,
So shalt thou learn what thy exalted soul
Dreads not to hear. The king hath wrong'd me much,
This I avow; he coveted o'er me
To stretch the power, with which indulged by Cæsar
He lorded it in Palestine. His sister
Was but the lure by which he meant my ruin,
And arrogantly hoped to number me
Amid his vassals. My invaded rights
I then supported, and against his will
Retain establish'd. I too found like him
Friends near Augustus, Herod's vengeful threats
Appal not me, for justice sways the world.
Nor can I bear, (with freedom will I speak)
Th'alliance of a king, for whom my mind
Fosters resentment. Add to this the storms
Which well thou know'st infest his court. In all
Whom he beholds, he dreads approaching treason,
And thro' a thousand open avenues
Suspicions enter and alarm his soul,
He doom'd to death the brother of the queen,
Outrage on outrage follow'd. Mariamne
In these drear mansions spends her life between
Fell cruelty, and fierce impetuous love.
Now the drawn dagger pointed at her heart,
Now worshipp'd to idolatry; with tears
Bathing for ever a detested bed,
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Of vile accusers, who with flattery base
Still hover round their miserable king.
SALOME.
When she's the theme, words flow, me thinks, with ease.
SOHEMUS.
Know'st thou not, princess, that her blood and mine
Spring from a kindred source? and what concern
I take in all her fortunes?
SALOME.
Well I know it.
SOHEMUS.
Yet more; her fate hath long engaged my fears,
But now they all are past. Herod will cherish
Her mother's feeble and declining age;
A solemn promise he at least hath given
To th'emperor his master. As for me,
Far from a court which I detest, for ever
I fly from Solyma, it's prince, and thee.
Yes, I depart; but think not a new chain
Succeeding thine, draws on my steps; at once
The king, his realm, and each connecting tie
Do I renounce, but chiefly that of love.
Reproach not my sincerity of mind;
What I forbear to others, 'tis but just
That I receive not.
SALOME.
Know, my soul disdains
The angry taunt, or petulance of spleen.
I am not ignorant of more, much more
Than thou hast utter'd. True, no doubt this court
Is not unstain'd by guilt; there are, whose souls
Of noblest stamp have been impell'd to deeds
In some ill-fortuned period, which their virtue
Amply atones, and which command respect.
There are of lower sphere, whose slavish weakness
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Who underneath it's specious gewgaw dress
Hide their soft silken bonds. Perhaps I speak not
To an unconscious ear. In vain thy art
Would strive from me the rival to conceal
For whom I am betray'd. I know it all—
And whom thou hast seduced. No dupe am I
To hypocritic virtue, nor is mine
A heart which thy inconstancy can wound.
But if thou turn'st thy eyes aside from storms,
Which shook this palace, now so much detested,
Dread to excite that which may haply reach
Far as the petty state which calls thee lord.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
SOHEMUS, AMMON.SOHEMUS.
What do her words import? What mystic meaning?
Why think she can espy within my heart
Thoughts to myself unknown? Hah! that I breathe
The amorous sigh! and nurse for Mariamne
Instead of friendship's purity severe,
A flame unhallow'd! that I yield myself
A slave to the soft passion, tho' prepared
In haste to quit such numberless perfections!
AMMON.
From Salome's offended soul the worst
Is to be fear'd, the tinge of jealousy
Is clearly seen; love hath betray'd itself.
SOHEMUS.
No; in my breast the devious sentiments
Of criminal affection ne'er could enter.
The sect I follow, other manners forms.
Th'Essenians, rigid stoics of Judæa,
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More noble thoughts derive. Our lords, the Romans!
Victors of nations, rule the subject earth,
And we our passions. Kindred ties alone
Unite Sohemus, and the wife of Herod.
Thank heaven, I feel no conscious blushes rise.
Harrass'd beneath a dreadful power, I saw
Her deep distress; I only wish'd to serve her;
And have perform'd my duty.
AMMON.
It suited well thy just heroic mind
T'avenge the virtue trampled on by them.
But could'st thou in this court replete with crimes
From generous pity act, and not from love!
SOHEMUS.
Ah! is it needful then that her defence
From love should spring? Who would not with myself
Such innocence with tender care have shielded?
What savage heart would not with speed have flown
To her relief? and who to save her life
Would not have prodigally risqued his own?
O! Friend, this soul no sordid baseness knows,
And thou it's zeal canst witness; here I came,
Here dwelt, each threatening blow to ward from her;
That was my only motive. When from hence
The king departed, dubious of his fate,
Whether his death would be adjudged by Rome,
Or in his hands the sceptre placed again,
Urged by excess of love, and jealous frenzy,
Dreading, lest slain himself, his hapless queen,
For empire born, but then a Roman slave,
To some unworthy partner should be doom'd:
He gave command a tomb to rear, in which
He, and the object of his adoration
Might both together be inhumed. Pheroras
Had the dire charge assign'd, to offer up
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The bleeding victim. He to me reveal'd
The savage mandate of the guilty king.
Thus o'er a life so dear, so full of woe,
I with unceasing providence have watch'd,
Still arm'd, still prompt and eager to protect her.
But chiefly from her eyes intent to hide
The face of danger, have contrived to serve her.
And not awaken terror. Her misfortunes
Have pierced me more than all her matchless beauties.
Strongly affected is my heart, but love
Has no dominion there, he boasts no conquest,
But is by me subdued. The noble passion,
Th'exalted sentiments which she inspired,
Taught me t'avenge, but not seduce her virtue.
In short, success attends the king, Rome yields,
The sceptre of Judæa is restored.
Triumphant he returns again to tread
This bloody stage, with winged haste he comes
To the loved idol of his soul, whom oft
He tortures, always goddess-like adores.
Their mutual woes are ended; thro' the gloom
This horrid court involving, breaks a new
And placid morn. My presence may be spared;
For Mariamne will at length be happy.
I shall no more behold her; but my heart,
My melancholy heart to other charms
Will be for ever closed; and every bond
Of wedlock I with dread and hate survey.
Conscious of her perfections, who but looks
On all the rest of womankind with scorn?
Yes, my retreat, tho' humble, hath for me
Sufficient splendor, there shall I reside
With virtue bless'd, far from the eyes of tyrants:
My lot superior to the proudest kings,
Lord of my fate, and master o'er myself.
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SCENE IV.
SOHEMUS, ELISA, AMMON.ELISA.
The mother of the queen, Sohemus, doom'd
A prey to grief, by all her countless tears
Conjures thee to attend, and calm the terrors,
Which for her daughter now afresh invade
Her wounded soul.
SOHEMUS.
What horror at thy words
Strikes each astonish'd sense!
ELISA.
Alas! she knows
The dreadful mandate of the jealous king;
By Salome's inhuman care inform'd.
SOHEMUS.
Thus our malicious foe mid troubles bred,
Fancies by new-raised discord still to hold
Her much-loved borrowed power. O hateful court!
What various arts are thine! the foot which treads
These dire abodes as on the edge abrupt
Of dangerous precipices walks. Alas!
Strange and unequall'd murther from the eyes
Of Alexander erst her husband tore
And darling son. Her daughter still remains;
She shudders now for her. Maternal love
May well be suffer'd to indulge in fear.
Eliza go; I follow thee with speed.
Great God! who rul'st o'er this disastrous clime!
Avert this gathering storm from Mariamne!
Preserve, protect the noblest of thy works!
The END of the FIRST ACT.
| Mariamne | |