University of Virginia Library

Scene II

Jericho: a room in the royal house
Herod is seated before a small council-table. Shimaiah, Babbas, and Nicholas are leaving him; then they halt, arrested by the despair of Herod's attitude.
Herod.
Go from me,
Go, Nicholas, Shimaiah, Babbas—all!

Babbas.
Why shoud I go? I hold you in the right.
Cleopatra should be killed.

Herod.
You hurt the sorest,
Mourning with me a mighty deed undone.

Babbas.
I cannot see: why is it that you falter?
There was a quiet—some one at your ear . . .
And then your voice came husky, ‘She shall live.’
My son, she must not live. . . . The murderess
Of kindred . . . her young sister.

Herod.
And her brother
Cut off that she might rule.

[All are silent.
Babbas.
She must not live.
She is the great Idolatress, she is
The centred spot of all corruption. Listen!
[Turning to his companions.
O Councillors, I listened:
Bear with me, for I know when voices travel
Beside an angel guiding them along.
King Herod summoned us, and spoke so greatly
Of the swift deed to do, my heart grew great.
For if our God
Commands us strictly to a deed, there is
No room for doubt or talk.
[Herod looks up.
This bitter plague
Of the whole world is in his power, to kill her,
And God has put the judgment in the king
To make an end.

Nicholas.
Rebuke me!
It is not that I fear the consequence
Of this rash deed: we are the Chosen People,
And God can check the Roman armies as
He faltered Pharaoh's host . . . It is not that—
She is his guest.

Babbas.
By Jael's blow . . .

[He struggles with his rage.
Herod
(rising).
Nay, Babbas, I have promised with an oath.
[Turning to his chief eunuch.
See that the queen be richly served. To-day
It is her will—and as you lesson me
We must not check a guest—to-day, together,
We hunt wild asses . . .
Also any object
The queen of Egypt may desire—we all
Are tribute to her—pack upon her camels.
There, get you gone!
[Exeunt all.
This would have been the moment of my life—
My spotted hero ridded of his plague,
And Jewry safe, and all my friendship clear.
[He stretches himself wearily; then looks out and perceives Cleopatra.
Moving to Mariamne's tent! . . .
The harlot put her arms about my neck:
If I could boast of this to Mariamne!
[He shakes his head and turns away abashed.
My dew, my breaking rose!