Th' envenom'd dart hath err'd.

Mar. Poor Hazeroth!

Thy freedom cost thee dear!

Her. You have been just,

In punishing the traitor's insolence;
Whom in excess of clemency I spar'd,
Because allied to you.

Mar. Murder'd by me!

So let the tiger sheath his savage fangs,
And for the mangled fawn implead the roe!
To build my frame the forming pow'r infus'd
Too mild a spirit, in too soft a mold,

For such barbarian deeds.Who wears the sword

That, flesh'd in slaughter, levell'd to the dust
The royal stem, whence that poor scion sprung?
[Pointing towards HAZ.
Who doom'd to death the hoary majesty
Of good Hyrcanus? Whose insatiate rage
Murder'd my royal father and his son ?
Bid fame to late posterity report
That Mariamne did it :-She destroy'd
Her grandsire, father, uncle, brother, all
Her Asmonæan race; and then constrain'd
Herod to wear a crown!

Her. How!

Soh. The Roman camp

Protects her guilt.

Her. A potion to revive

The flames of love! Did e'er my passion need The wicked pow'r of art to make it glow? [To MAR.

O'erwhelm'd with blank confusion !

Mar. Must a dream,

The transient image of a troubled thought,
Join'd with that villain's frontless perjury,
Be clear consummate proof, t'affirm a fact
Would make fiends start, and stand in wild amaze
Abstracted from their hate? Can he produce
A promise of rewards, or present bribe,
To fortify this proof?

Sam. Arsinoe gave

This precious token of your future grace.
[Shews a jewel
Her. Know you this diamond, sorceress ?
Mar. 'Tis the same

You gave me on your birth-day.

Her. To be made

The lure of death-O foul !

Mar. Arsinoe's false;

Send, intercept her flight; let her confront
His evidence; and if they both conspire
To attaint my innocence-

Her. My guards !-secure

[To the captain of the guard. That wicked woman with a double guardSeize her, I say!

Mar. Friend, tremble not to obey
His orders, thou'rt a soldier.-But, my lord!
Think not these tears, the frailty of my sex,
Argue a sense of guilt, or servile hope

Of moving pity, to retard my doom;

I weep not for myself, nor wish to ward
The blow, whene'er misguided justice strikes:
But if I e'er was treasur'd in your heart,
For sure you lov'd me once-

Her. And lov'd too well!

May all who hate me love as much as I,
And then be thus requited!

Mar. When I'm dead,

O, let the stream of dear affection flow,
Redoubled on my son! to him transfer
The share I've lost-And never may the wrong
His mother bears, obstruct the sweet returns
Of filial duty and paternal love!

But may my memory his soul inspire
To scorn inglorious life, when honour calls

That poison'd Hazeroth?

Sam. Arsinoe said

And think the debt which death is sure to claim, A tribute due to virtue, and to fame.

[Exeunt.

Whose limbs, extended on the rack, endure
The utmost stretch of pain: I suffer more!
More, my Pheroras, more! The balm of sleep
Can ne'er refresh these eyes, 'till the pale hand
Of death shall draw their curtains, and exclude
The busy buzzing swarm of stinging thoughts.
My bed, the scene of all my blissful hours,
Of all my tender, chaste, endearing joys,
Which now have wing'd their everlasting flight,
Is grown the den of horror and despair.
O Mariamne!-With my setting sun,
Ill fortune now projects a deeper shade:
I wish I were as I had never been,
Number'd among the dead!

Phe. Sir, let her crime

Erase the faithful characters, which love Imprinted on your heart.

Her. Alas! the pain

We feel, whene'er we dispossess the soul
Of that tormenting tyrant, far exceeds
The rigour of his rule.

Phe. With reason quell

That haughty passion; treat it as your slave: Resume the monarch.

Her. Where's the monarch now?The vulgar call us gods, and fondly think That kings are cast in more than mortal molds: Alas! they little know that when the mind Is cloy'd with pomp, our taste is pall'd to joy; But grows more sensible of grief or pain. The stupid peasant with as quick a sense, Enjoys the fragrance of a rose, as I: And his rough hand is proof against the thorn, Which, rankling in my tender skin, would seem A viper's tooth. O blissful poverty!

Nature, too partial, to thy lot assigns

:

Health, freedom, innocence, and downy peace,
Her real goods and only mocks the great
With empty pageantries! Had I been born
A cottager, my homely bowl had flow'd

Secure from pois'nous drugs; but now my wife!—
Let me, good heav'n! forget that guilty name,
Or madness will ensue.-

SCENE II.

The High-Priest enters.

Her. At this late hour,

When only discontented spectres roam,

In moon-light walks; or yet more anxious men, With pangs of agonizing passion torn,

Accuse their stars, and with their sorrows make
The midnight echoes mourn; at this late hour,
What discords break the virtuous harmony,
Which wont to reign within thy pious breast?
High-Pr. O, that, my royal lord, that which
will spread

O'er Palestine the blackest veil of woe,
That ever nation wore! Forgive my zeal,
Which breaks through courtly forms, to execute
The heavenly office which my order claims.
Peace is my province; and I prostrate beg,
By all your public and domestic joys,
By the dear offspring of your royal bed,
By all that merits your regard, release
Your injur'd queen!

Her. Have you not heard her crime?
Shall I resume a sorceress to my breast,
Who, unprovok'd, with black infernal hate
Attempted our perdition? No!-

High-Pr. My liege!

Her gentle goodness ne'er could break the band Of nature, and the stronger ties of love.

Her. Thirst for her husband's blood !-A lioness

Is kinder to her mate.

High-Pr. It cannot be :

Some wretch hath sold his mercenary soul, T'accuse her without cause.

Her. Is all our court

Combin❜d in perjury? They all condemn
Her execrable deed.

High-Pr. Their tongues are tun'd
To what they think delights the royal ear:
In this confusion, should a comet rise,
They'd cry, the queen hath set the world o' fire!
Vouchsafe her audience, sir; hear her defence
With cool impartial reason: error oft
Assumes the shape of truth, and the wild eye
Of passion rarely can at first discern

Th' imposture in disguise. Let not your heart,
Where late her beauteous image was inshrin'd,
Be now immur'd with marble from her pray'r!
Offended heav'n, with pitying ear, accepts
The sigh of penitents, and freelier grants
Access when soonest sought.

Her. Did she request Admittance to me?

High-Pr. Yes; with such an air
Of grief ennobled with majestic grace;
With such undaunted fortitude of mind,
Soft'ned with pensive sweetness in her eyes,
That speaks her wrong'd; none but a soul as
white

As new-born innocence, could shine so clear
On the dim verge of death.-My gracious lord,
Forgive the frailties of forgetful age!
She took this ruby-bracelet from her arm,
Which on this anniverse she wont to wear,
In sweet remembrance of the nuptial morn,
When first you tied it on: Restore, she cried,

This pledge of fond affection to the king:
Tell him, howe'er unkind! I've yet deserv'd
To wear no other chain than this of love:-
Then wept a tender show'r.

[HEROD takes the bracelet.

Her. The time hath been, I'd not have seen my Mariamne drop One precious tear, for all the radiant mines The womb of earth contains; but now her heart Is chang'd, and so must mine!-Yet if she craves To see me now, give orders; let the guard Conduct her to me. [Exeunt HER. and PHER. High-Pr. Now, with speedy flight, Descend, celestial ministers of peace, Who kindle virtuous ardours, and preside O'er nuptial vows; aid with auspicious zeal, The first reunion of those royal hearts; And never from your sacred charge remove, 'Till death's commission'd to divide their love!

Sal. What may'st thou mean?

Sam. Th' high-priest hath won the king

To see the queen to-night.

Soh. Impossible!

To hell! poor tim'rous wretch, and tell the devil

[In the struggle SAMEAS wrests the dagger out of SOHEMUS's hand; and, in fasting backward, he strikes it into SALOME'S bo som, and dies.

Soh. Princess ador'd and lov'd! oh, speak!
Sal. Death! Death!

Save me, O Sohemus, from that black troop.
Of grizly shapes, which in fantastic dance
Frisk round, and call me hence.-O, kind in
vain-

A fiery whirlwind bears me from thy arms
To seas of boiling sulphur; the blue waves
Receive me to their bosom.-Down! deep! deep!

SCENE V.

[She dies.

Enter HEROD and PHERORAS, with attendants. Her. What hideous sound of shrieks and dying groans

Echo'd from hence, as if by violence
A soul had left her mansion unprepar'd?
Pher. Horrors! our sister dead!
Soh. That villain came

[Pointing to SAMEAS's body,
In all the gestures of extreme despair;
Crying she brib'd him to accuse the queen;
And having heard Arsinoe would return
To null his evidence, rage and remorse
Urg'd him to plunge the dagger in her breast,
And then he pierc'd himself.

Her. O Salome !

The jarring elements which compos'd thy frame,
Made thee aspiring, turbulent, and bold:
In others woe was thy supreme delight;
And most against my queen thy malice aim'd
Her venom'd shafts; but now thy guilty blood
Will quench the flames, which thy infernal torch
Spread o'er the harvest of my nuptial joys.
Soh. How blind, alas! to fate is the dim
Of dull mortality!

Her. O, Sohemus!

A thrilling horror freezeth every vein, While I review the precipice of fate,

eye

court;

VOL. 11.

Had plunged me in the abyss of endless woe, E

Grief, horror, shame, distraction!-they besiege
The poor soul, wavering in the fort of life,
And wishing to surrender! Thy kind sword
Might end this insurrection: dar'st thou strike?
[Points to his breast.
Pher. Heaven shield from violence that sacred
breast!

Fear, guilt, despair, and moon-struck phrenzy rush
On voluntary death: the wise and brave,
When the fierce storms of fortune round 'em
roar,

Combat the billows with redoubled force:
Then, if they perish ere the port is gained,
They sink with decent pride; and from the deep
Honour retrieves them, bright as rising stars.
Call reason to your aid, and with your friends
Divide your care: doubt not but Sohemus-
Her. Thou nam'st the very scorpion which
hath stung
The centre of my heart.

Pher. Then make his blood
Balm for the wound.

Her. The wound admits no cure! Nor reason, nor the healing hand of time, Can bring relief: but heaven inspire my heart, Before it breaks, with new devis'd revenge, Equal to that perfidious villain's crime!

Were his approaches frequent to the queen When I was absent?

Pher. No; he ever stood The distant object of her hate. Her. With ease

They might elude your eye; but Salome
And Sameas sure were conscious of their crimes,
For which he murdered both; and she prepar'd
The pois'nous bowl for me. But from that slave
Tortures shall wring the truth I dread to know.
Secure him for the rack; and let the queen
Drink the same fatal draught she drugg❜d for me;
Instant, with her own deathful art, destroy
The artificer of death!-O Mariamne!
Why wouldst thou wrong my honour, and my
love,

And urge this direful doom!

SCENE VIII.

[Exit PHER,

Fla. But, sir, 'tis safer much to sheathe The sword of justice, since the destin'd blow Will chiefly wound yourself. Without your queen, Your palace, though with gay retinue throng'd, Will seem a savage desart. You must view The mother blooming in your beauteous child, Nor feel a father's joy; each object here Will rouse the sad remembrance of the bliss You once possess'd with her. How will you wish For that sweet converse, when the smiling hours Danc'd to the music of her heavenly voice, And the short years were lost in dear delight! But when her charms are silent, dismal change! Slow, sullen time on raven wings will fly, Heavy and black! around you then you'll see Your son, your nobles, and domestics chang'd: For each, as their peculiar grief shall urge, With pensive silence will upbraid the loss