What? That you are wife
Unto the murderer? You’re but late become
This creature; only while you will you are so;
Yea, and you are so maybe now no more.
But you have ever been the Dead One’s sister
And will remain so—yea, you will remain so
Even when you call—thither, it seems, you tend—
Into his grave—“You had but justice done you!”
Mar.
I owe you debt of reverence, and I shrink
From violence on it; therefore hold your peace.
Or else I could——
Alex.
What could you?
Mar.
Ask myself
On whom this deed lays guilty onus—him
That took it through because he must, or her
Who wrung it from him! Let the Dead One rest!
Alex.
Speak thus to one who did not give him birth!
I bore him underneath my heart, and must
Avenge him since I cannot waken him
To wreak his own revenge.
Mar.
Avenge him then,
Avenge him on yourself! You know right well
It was the High Priest whom the shouting folk
Ringed on his giddy pinnacle with joyance
And that ’twas not the youngling Aristobulus
Who brought upon himself the Thing that happened.
Who was it drove the youngling, tell me that!
Out of his old unthinking self-content?
Surely he lacked not coats of many colours
Wherewith to charm the eyes of pretty maids,
And more he needed not for happiness.
What should he do with Aaron’s priestly mantle
You still must hang about him to his surfeit?
And of himself he had no other thought
Than “Does it suit me well?” But others deemed him
Straight from the very moment it was donned
The second Head of Israel; and you
Had swift success himself so to befool
That his puffed mind must think him first and sole.
Alex.
’Tis blasphemy ’gainst him and me!
Mar.
’Tis none!
For if this youngling, who it seemed had birth
To show the world her first-born happy man,
If he so swift, so dark an end has found,
And if the man who, when his sword’s once drawn
Shames every other man into a woman,
If he—I know not if ’twas he, but fear it,—
Then, true, ambition, lust for power are cause,
But not ambition that the Dead One hugged
And not the lust for power that plagues the King.
I’ll not accuse you—’twould beseem me ill—
But, to requite your sending of a ghost,
A bloody ghost, into our marriage-chamber,
I will not see you shed the tear of rue
Though now we twain no more are side by side
And, for the Third, it wilders so my sense
That I am dumb when it were well to speak
And speak when it were better to be dumb.
Nay, nay, I will not quench your vengeful thirst
Nor ask what you avenge—your plans or son.
Do what you will! go further, check your foot—
Only, be well assured of this—the barb
That reaches Herod reaches Mariamne!
The oath that I withheld and he demanded
In leaving me, I swear it now! I perish
If he should perish! Act then, speak no more!
Alex.
Then perish! Now! For——
Mar.
Yes, I understand!
And this was why you thought I needed comfort?
Oh no! You err. It frights me not
That the men-slugs o’ the world, who only suffer
The Elect because they owe man’s debt to death,
Have with their mouths already struck him dead.
What has the slave for solace when the King
In gorgeousness and glory sweeps him by
Than this—to say, “He gets his turn like me!
I grudge it not! And when he mounts his throne
Fresh from a field o’erstrewn with graves in thousands
I’ll praise him for’t: it chokes his covetous mood!”
Ah, but my Herod lives and he will live!
So says my heart to me. Death flings a shadow
And that falls on me here! (pointing to her heart).
Scene 4
The Same. Joseph.
[Enter a Servant.
Servant.
The Viceroy comes!
Alex.
Weaponed for certain, as he always is
When he comes our way, since he had no luck
In cozening our wits with glozing phrases
After the manner of his first attempt.
Do you not know Salome at the time
Perished for jealousy?
Mar.
She does so now:
For with an intimate smile I say to him
Most shameless things whenever she is near,
And since herself she never tires of spying
I never tire of soundly whipping her
For fatuous folly.
[Enter Joseph.
Alex.
(pointing to Joseph’s weapon). See you?
Mar.
Let him then!
His wife demands it so that she may dream
She has a husband who’s a man of war.
Alex.
(to Joseph). I am still here!
Joseph.
A very strange reception!
Alex.
My son too is still here. As once before
He’s hid him in the dead man’s Wooden House.
Harry him out and I will pardon you
Because you did it once before unbidden.
But this time you must hunt your coffin not
Upon a vessel sailing Egypt-bound,
No, you must seek it in the graveyard’s belly!
Joseph.
I’m not the man to wake the dead to life.
Alex. (with scorn directed at Mariamne).
Ay true! or you had companied your Lord
So that when all his kneeling and his pleading
Were fruitless to frustrate the lictor’s axe——
Mar.
He kneels and pleads?
Joseph (to Mariamne).
I’ll let you know his way!
“I am impeached for this crime! I confess it!
But not for this! Well, for your information,
I’ll fill the gap up soon!” Yes, that’s his way.
Alex.
His cock crows for him?
Joseph.
He has done’t ere now,
As I stood by, the time the Pharisees
Would have arraigned him under Antony.
He filed his own indictment in their stead,
Hurried to camp before them, as he was,
And, when they came, revised and supplemented
The reckoning point for point and said to them—
“Speak, if I’ve left an item out or not!”
The event you know; a many of the accusers
Were shorn of their thick heads since they’d not budge;
He carried off the Roman’s fullest favour.
Alex.
In those days both were younger than they now are.
The one’s superb presumption pleased the other,
And all the more because at other’s costs,
Not at his own, ’twas flaunted. Can the Roman
Value the Pharisee at aught, whose tongue
Preaches continual mutiny ’gainst Rome?
“Who plucks his beard curtails his standing!” thought
Mark Antony in sport: and yet I doubt
If he’ll allow the joke against himself.
Joseph.
You speak as though you wished——
Alex.
Whether our wishes
Are paired or not, is that affair of yours?
You hold fast to your own! For you it’s weighty
That he returns.
Joseph.
You think so? If for me
For you, then.
Alex.
I have not a notion why
There was in olden days an Alexandra
Whose temples bore a crown in Israel,
Who fell on it when it became free prey
And would not leave it lying for a thief.
By God, we’ll have no dearth here of a second
If it is true (to Mariamne) that there are Maccabeans
Who keep their childish oaths!
Joseph (sounding Alexandra).
’Tis true indeed!
There was in olden days this Alexandra,
But whosoe’er will reach her goal, he must
Tread her whole journey with no half-way lapse.
Soon as she climbed the throne she reconciled
Herself with all her foes, and not a soul
Had need to fear her, only cause to hope.
No wonder that she sat fast till her death!
Mar.
I think that paltry! What end serves a sceptre
If not to gratify our hate and love?
A twig’s enough to frighten off the flies.
Joseph.
Quite true. (To Alexandra.) And you?
Alex.
She never saw in dream
Her House’s earliest sire, the mighty Judas,
’Tis certain else she had no foeman shunned;
For from his grave he still protects his children
Because he cannot die in any heart.
How could he so? There’s never a man can pray
Who must not say—“To him I owe my thanks
That I may yet kneel down before my God
And not to bronze and wood and stone.”
Joseph (aside).
The King
Was in the right! The deed I must accomplish,
And that on both, or else endure them both.
I must emplant the crown upon my brow
If I’d ensure it from the headsman’s axe.
For here a world of hate stares in against me.
Then good! Their sentence they’ve pronounced themselves.
For the last time I’ve put the test on them.
Were but his courier here, this very moment
I’d bring it to a pitiless consummation.
Each several preparation has been made.
Scene 5
The Same. Titus. Afterwards, Philo.
[Enter a Servant.
Servant.
Titus the Captain craves an audience.
Joseph (about to go).
At once!
Alex.
And why not here?
Servant.
He’s here already
[Enter Titus.
Titus (in a whispered aside to Joseph).
What you have feared is come about; the folk
Rebels!
Joseph.
Be quick then, do what I’ve commanded!
Call out your cohort! Put it into action!
Titus.
Already done! And now I come to ask you
Whether you wish for prisoners or dead.
My eagle grips as thoroughly as he mangles
And you must know which better serves your ends.
Joseph.
Blood must not flow.
Titus.
Good. Then the hewing starts
Before they get their stoning well begun,
Else I had done it later.
Joseph.
Saw you Sameas?
Titus.
The Pharisee who once had nearly blundered
His head against my shield because his eyes
He always shuts as soon as e’er he spies me?
I saw him sure enough!
Joseph.
And how? Speak loud!
Titus.
In the open market-place ringed round by thousands
And cursing Herod loudly.
Joseph (to Alexandra).
Sameas
Took leave of you but one short hour ago.
Alex.
Saw you’t?
Titus (to Joseph).
You show yourself?
Joseph.
Soon as I can.
Meanwhile——
Titus.
’Tis good. I go. (About to go.)
Alex.
A word yet, Captain!
Say why the guard’s recalled from us.
Mar.
Is’t missing?
Alex.
Missing since yester-evening.
Joseph.
Since I bade it.
Titus.
And since the King in leaving said to me—
“Before you is the man who knows my will.
What he commands, that I command myself!”
[Exit.
Alex.
(to Joseph). And you?
Joseph.
I thought that Judas Maccabaeus
Were guard enough for you and for your daughter.
And, for the rest, you hear how matters stand
Without. I need the soldiers. (Aside.) If the Romans
Were near as this, I might have little luck.
To-day I stationed Galileans.
Alex. (to Mariamne).
Think you
That my mistrust is groundless still?
Mar.
I know not,
But now its sting infects. I feel ’tis strange!
And yet—If from the wall a javelin darted
It had not tricked my expectation more.
Alex.
Two thrusts, and then the throneward way is free:
For when the Maccabeans are no more
The turn comes round for the Herodians.
Mar.
I’d laugh you yet to ridicule if only
His wife were not Salome. By my brother
Her head is mine! For I shall say to Herod,
“As you avenge me on her so you love me!”
For she—’tis she! never that fellow there!
Alex.
Too early triumph! Our first call is action
And I’ve a notion we can use this outbreak.
Mar.
This outbreak! Nay. I wash my hands of it,
Because, if Herod comes again, there’s naught
For me to fear: and if he come no more
A death in any shape’s right opportune.
Alex.
I go.
[Turns to go.
Joseph (blocking her way).
Where?
Alex.
Firstly to the battlements
And then wherever it may please me go.
Joseph.
Your way is open to the battlements.
The castle’s barred.
Alex.
’Twould seem, then, we are prisoners?
Joseph.
Only till peace may be restored, no longer.
I must request——
Alex.
What brass effrontery’s this?
Joseph.
A stone is blind, a Roman javelin too;
They often find a mark where they should not;
’Twere therefore more discreet to give them room.
Alex. (to Mariamne).
I’ll go aloft and try with signalling
To make our friends acquainted with our plight.
Mar.
By signalling—your friends—Oh, Mother, Mother!
And so ’tis you at bottom, not the folk?
See to’t the pit you dig trips not yourself.
[Alexandra turns to go.
Joseph.
You will permit my guardsman offer you
His escort. Philo!
Alex.
So ’tis open war?
[Enter Philo. Joseph speaks with him, at first softly, then aloud.
Joseph.
You understand?
Philo.
Yes.
Joseph.
I’ the worst event!
Philo.
For that I’ll wait, then——
Joseph.
And your head’s my surety.
(Aside.) Methinks the soul of Herod’s over me!
Alex.
I go in his despite. Perhaps the soldier,
Although a Galilean, may be won.
I’ll try it!
[Exit, followed by Philo.
Joseph (aside).
I can do no otherwise,
Howe’er it bring mistrust on me; the outbreak
Compels me to this step; I dare not now
Allow her from my sight unless I make
The dead impossible through my own folly,
For every hour this courier may come.
Himself I long have thought to see no more.
Mar.
Say, when died Herod?
Joseph.
When died he?
Mar.
And how?
You surely know it since you dare so much.
Joseph.
What do I dare then? You propose me riddles.
Mar.
Naught, if you think I cannot find defence
So soon as e’er the Romans think my life
Is threatened; all, if you mistake therein.
Joseph.
Who threatens then your life?
Mar.
You ask me still?
You!
Joseph.
I?
Mar.
And can you swear the contrary?
Swear it upon your child’s head? You are silent!
Joseph.
You have no right of challenge to the swearing.
Mar.
Who hears such challenge gives it of himself,
But woe to you if Herod comes again!
I’ll say to him two things ere the first kiss,
I’ll say to him that you devised my murder,
I’ll say to him my oath; now gauge yourself
The fate that gathers for you if he comes.
Joseph.
And what—what was the oath? If it bring horror
Yet I must know it.
Mar.
Hear it to your bane!
That I with my own hand will kill myself
If he—oh had I but foreboded this
I had not turned me with a cold good-bye,
Nay, surely not! I would have kept the bearing
I had begun, and all would now be well,
For you at first were a far other man.
Joseph.
For me, I’ve naught to fear.
Mar.
Because you think
It is impossible that he return.
Who knows? And if! I hold the oath I swore,
But not till I avenge myself on you,
Avenge me on you—hear the word and tremble!
Sharp as he would avenge me. Come then, draw
Your instant sword! You dare not? I believe you!
And watch me close as e’er you can, I’ll find
A certain way unto the Captain Titus.
You lost your hazard when I pierced your husk.
Joseph (aside).
True, true! (To Mariamne.) I hold you to your word! You’d take
The same, the very vengeance he would wreak;
That vow you swore to me: forget it not.
Mar.
So speaks a wandering wit. That Herod loves me,
Yea, loves me more than I can love myself,
There’s none can doubt; no, not Salome even,
Your sinister-hearted wife, although she double
Just for that cause her hate, and even although
Just for that cause, and spurred by vengeful lust,
She may have filled you with this murder-thought.
And that it comes from her I know, and will
Pierce to her feeling nerve; her pain for you
Shall be my latest joy upon this earth.
Joseph.