Fear no battle more,
He is as good as dead. Octavian
Is scarce an Antony who lets the flesh
Be hacked from body and forgives the deed
Because he can admire the hand that does it.
He only sees the strokes.
Alex.
And what says Titus?
Soemus.
He thinks as I do. I had Sameas
Set free alone because it is my wish
To answer my account. Indeed I had
No other way to audience with the Queen.
Now knows she what she needs must know, and now
When the death-tidings come is strong to meet them.
That was my aim. A noble heart! and kill her?
Her very tears would rouse the soul of pity!
Alex.
Ay, true! And what a tender husband! Seek her,
Persuade her only that she give herself
To Rome for shelter, and attend the feast
Which is the signal that she breaks with Herod
Be he now dead or living.
Soemus (following her).
He is dead!
[Exeunt.
Scene 4
The Castle on Zion. A Hall.
Moses, Artaxerxes, Jehu, and other Servants preparing a feast.
Afterwards Soemus, Silo, Judas.
Moses.
Come, Artaxerxes! Still with wits a-rambling?
Look sharp, look sharp! You play no clock with us.
Art.
Had you done that for livelong years, as I,
You’d be in just the case that touches me,
More so if every night you got to dreaming
You had the old-time post still in your care.
I make machine-like grasp with my right hand
Toward my left hand’s pulse-tick, counting, counting,
And counting off to sixty ere the thought
Comes over me I am a clock no more.
Moses.
Then once for ever—mark ye that with us
You’re not to take the time. We have for that
The sand and the sun-dial. For yourself,
You’ll take the time like all of us—for action.
Sheer lazy-lumpishness!
Art.
Nay, let me swear it!
Moses.
Peace, peace! You’ve never counted at your meals.
What’s more, oath-swearing’s not the mode with us,
And (aside) if the King had not been half a heathen
We’d not be blessed with this outlandish slave.
Why, here the music-makers come! Look sharp!
[Goes out to the others.
Jehu.
Say, is it really true, this tale of you
They tell?
Art.
Why what’s to stop it being true?
And must I then a hundred times aver it?
At the great satrap’s court I was a clock,
Well-off at that, much better than with you.
At nights I had a spell, then ’twas my brother,
And in the day too when I went to eat.
And I must say I do not thank your King
That with the other prisoners of war
He dragged me here. True, toward the end my post
Was somewhat hard. They marched me to the field
And what with arrows right and left a-flying
And men a-falling, you will botch your count
More easily of course than in a hall
Where folks are come together for the dancing.
I screwed my eyes up tight, for I’m no hero
Such as my father was. He found an arrow
Standing at post—he was a clock like us,
Me and my brother, every one a-clocking—
Even then he called the hour and died. What say ye?
That was a man! A trifle over-kind
That trick of Fate to drive at him the arrow!
Jehu.
And have you then no sand among your people
That you must do this?
Art.
We? Have we no sand?
Enough to blot and bury all Judaea!
It’s just because the satrap there with us
Will have things better done than others do them.
Why, know you not a man’s pulse tallies truer,
If he be sound and have no fevered blood,
Than ever sand of yours runs through its pipes?
And have your dials any jot of use
If it should please the sun to stop his shining?
(Counts). One! Two!
Moses (coming back).
Off! Off! The guests are coming now!
Art.
So that’s the feast? Why there I saw feasts, look ye,
Where never fruit went past the lips if not
Brought from some foreign part; where penalty,
Oft the death-penalty, was fixed if ever
A single water-drop were drunk; where people
All trussed with hempen cerements and with pitch
Beplastered, in the garden-parks at nights
Were burnt for torches——
Moses.
Peace! What evil then
Had those poor fellows on the satrap done?
Art.
Done? Naught at all! With us a funeral
Is far more gorgeous than a wedding here.
Moses.
And I suppose you gobble up your dead?
It pairs well with the rest o’ the tale!
Art.
But then
Is it not true as well that once your Queen
Melted a pearl to nothing in her wine,
That was more costly than the King’s whole realm,
And that she gave this wine unto a beggar
Who gulleted it down like common stuff?
Moses.
It is not true, thank God!
Art.
(to Jehu). Well—but you said it!
Jehu.
Because I felt it was a brave thing for her,
And such is told of the Egyptian Woman.
Moses.
Be off with you!
Art. (pointing to the roses which Jehu carries).
Real roses! Why they’re cheap.
Among our folk we’ve silvern ones and golden.
These should be sent to other lands where flowers
Are costly—rare as gold and silver here.
[The servants scatter. The guests, among them Soemus, have been assembling during the latter half of this scene. Music and dancing. Silo and Judas detach themselves from the others and advance to the foreground.
Silo.
What does this mean?
Judas.
You ask what does this mean?
The King is coming back, and that to-day.
Silo.
You think so?
Judas.
Can you ask? Could there well be
Another ground than this for such a feast?
Go, practise some new-fangled bob o’ the back!
Silo.
Yet it was said that——
Judas.
Sham and Flam, as ever,
If it were said some evil overtook him,
But quite in order, since there’s many a one
That wishes him this evil. Do men dance
In houses where there’s wailing for the dead?
Silo.
Then soon there’ll be a deal of blood set pouring—
The dungeons since the outbreak are cram full.
Judas.
I know that better than you e’er could know’t;
I’ve dragged them in; full many a one, myself.
For ’twas so crass, this outbreak, so wrong-headed,
That every man who did not bend his thoughts
To hang himself was bound to stem its current.
You know I have no heartfelt love for Herod
However low I set my back a-bobbing—
But he has right in this—the Romans are
Too mighty for our strength, we are no more
Than a mere insect in the lion’s gullet.
It cannot sting him, for it’s gulped and gone.
Silo.
I’m only sorry for my gardener’s son
Who threw a stone against the Roman Eagle
And had the ill success to hit his mark.
Judas.
How old is he?
Silo.
Let’s see! How long is it
From when I broke my foot? He was born then.
I know it since his mother could not nurse me.
Yes, that’s right! Twenty!
Judas.
Then he suffers naught.
[Mariamne and Alexandra appear.
The Queen!
[Is about to go.
Silo.
What do you mean by that? A word more!
Judas.
Good; but between ourselves! Because he’s twenty
He suffers naught. But if he were nineteen
Or one-and-twenty ’twould befall him ill.
Next year the case is altered.
Silo.
Cease your jest!
Judas.
I tell you it is thus, and if you’ll know
The why, because the King’s self has a son
Of twenty years, and yet he knows him not.
The mother took the child when he forsook her
By stealth away and swore a solemn oath
She would corrupt it——
Silo.
Oh, the hideous woman!
A heathen!
Judas.
Likely so; but I know not—
Corrupt it so that he’d be forced to kill it.
But to my mind it was a frenzy-freak
That spumed away with the first foaming rage;
But still it pricks his peace, and no death-sentence
Has ever been fulfilled on any person
Whose years have tallied with his own son’s age.
Comfort your gardener, but—between ourselves!
[They disappear among the others.
Scene 5
Mariamne, Alexandra, who appear in the foreground.
Alex.
And so you’ll not take refuge with the Romans?
Mar.
With what intent?
Alex.
Why, to have life in safety.
Mar.
Life? Surely so. One must have that in safety,
For Pain would have no sting if robbed of that.
Alex.
Then give at least the hour its meed of right.
You give a feast; then show to all your friends
A face all festal-fair as is but meet.
Mar.
I am no pipe to play on and no candle,
Not made for sounding and not made for lighting.
Then take me as I am. No, do it not!
Drive me to have my own neck’s cleaver whetted—
What idle words! Drive me to share your joyance.
Soemus, come!
[Salome enters and advances towards her.
Scene 6
The Same. Salome. Afterwards, Soemus.
Mariamne (to Salome).
Salome, you? Be welcome
Above all others, ’spite your mourning-garments.
This I could scarce have hoped.
Salome.
Indeed I must
If I will learn how matters stand. I have been
Invited to a feast, and yet they say
No word of why the feast is being given.
True, I can guess it, but I must have knowledge.
Herod returns, of course, and we shall see him
This very day. The candles answer “yes,”
The music’s merry din; do you too say it!
I ask not for my own sake, but you know—
Nay, nay, you know it not, you have forgotten,
Perhaps you’ve had a dream that she is buried,
Else had you not concealed from her the news.
Ah but your dream was tricksy, for she sits
Ever in the old corner where she sat
When once she blessed you——
Mar.
What is this you say?
Salome.
Enough, enough! Herod still has a mother
Who trembles for her son and pines away.
And I, I beg you, let her criminal misdeed
In bearing me prolong no more its penance;
Give the relief for which her old heart yearns.
Mar.
To mother of his I cannot give relief.
Salome.
Are you not then to-day expecting Herod?
Mar.
Him least of all. I heard that he is dead.
Salome.
And celebrate this feast?
Mar.
Since I’m still living!
And should not one be glad that one still lives?
Salome.
I’ll not believe you!
Mar.
For this doubt much thanks!
Salome.
The candles——
Mar.
Do they not stand there for light?
Salome.
The cymbals——
Mar.
Are for ringing—what end else?
Salome (pointing to Mariamne’s rich attire).
The precious stones——
Mar.
Of course would suit you better.
Salome.
All this would indicate——
Mar.
A joyous feast.
Salome.
And one that on a grave——
Mar.
’Tis possible.
Salome.
Then, Mariamne, hear my earnest word!
I ever hated you, but there was left me
A clinging doubt if I were right therein
And oft with rue in heart I’ve come anear you
To——
Mar.
Give me kisses! Once indeed you did it!
Salome.
But now I see that you are——
Mar.
Bad enough
To let you stand while I depart to join
With yonder throng that now begins the dance.
Soemus!
[Soemus advances and gives Mariamne his arm.
Soemus.
Queen!
Mar.
’Twas just in this attire,
Ay just, that Herod saw me when he gave
The bloody order to you. Wonderful!
It all has happened, yes, in just this fashion.
(As she leaves, to Salome.) But you’ll look on?
[Is led by Soemus to the background, where both are now no longer seen.
Salome.
This woman’s still more wicked
Than I had ever thought, and that says much!
Therefore she has the gay-hued serpent-skin
With which she lures each victim—yes, she dances!
Then now at least I have a peaceful conscience;
On her no soul on earth could work a wrong.
[She watches Mariamne. Enter Alexandra and Titus.
Scene 7
Salome. Alexandra. Titus.
Afterwards, Mariamne.
Alex.
Titus, you notice how my daughter’s mourning.
Titus.
’Twould seem she has some new despatch from Herod.
Alex.
Despatch that all is over with him, yes!
Titus (watching Mariamne).
She dances!
Alex.
Less like widow than like bride!
Titus, until to-day she’s worn a mask,
And mark you this, not she alone has done’t.
Titus.
Well for her! She’ll not change from what she is,
For if she ranks her with the foes of Herod
She will not share the pangs his friends must suffer.
Alex.
And to prove that she gives, you see, this feast.
[Moves away from Titus.
Titus.
Oh what a shudder takes me at these women!
One, plotting at a hero, whom she first
With hoodwink-kisses lulled to lying peace,
Hews off his head in sleep; the other dances,
Merely to keep firm hands upon the crown,
Like one possessed upon her husband’s grave.
And sure I was invited this to see.
[Watches Mariamne again.
Yes, yes, I see’t. In Rome she’ll have my witness!
But here I drink no single drop of wine.
Salome.
What say you, Titus? Stands it with the King
In such ill plight that she may now dare all?
Titus.
If he’s not straightway given Octavian
His turncoat loyalty and helped to deal
The home-thrust ere his fall at Antony,
And that I must misdoubt, it stands not well.
Salome.
Oh, if he had but done it! If her head
Be kept to her, I know not why the Lord
Gave o’er the blood of hot-eyed Jezebel
For dogs to lick.
[She is lost among the others.
Titus.
She dances still, and yet
Seems forced in mien and mood. She should be glowing
And yet is blanched as though, enchained in musing,
She did some other thing, and sleepy-willed
Followed the dancing. Then it seems this Judith
Brought not her work unanguished to the full.
Ay, and the last kiss given by her husband,
She here and now disowns with pompous show,
Must leave upon her lips the cling of feeling.
She’s not yet even seen him dead—She comes!
[Mariamne appears again. Alexandra and Soemus follow her.
Alex.
(to Mariamne). I spoke with Titus.
[Mariamne suddenly turns and sees her image in a mirror.
Mar.
Ha!
Alex.
What ails you, then?
Mar.
’Twas thus I saw myself but late in dream—
This was the cause, then, why I could not rest me
Till that lost ruby came again to light
That now casts from my breast such dusky glimmer—
The image had been flaw-marred lacking it!
On this the last treads hot——
Alex.
Come to yourself!
Mar.
Nay, let me be! A mirror just like this,
At first with glazy muffle, as o’erbreathed
By living lips; then, like the pictures which
It showed in linked procession, softly clearing
And lastly luminant as polished steel.
I saw my life in sum. First I appeared
As child in light of roses tender-ambient
Of ever redder, ever darker hue.
But then the features, though my own, were strange
And only in the third-changed scene I knew
Myself in such an all too youthful face.
And now there came the Virgin and the moment
When Herod took me to the flowery garden,
Bearing me company, and flattering spoke:—
“There’s none so fair she would not need to pluck
The lily of your hand.” Ha, be he cursed
That he forgot so full, so full! And then
It all grew eerie, and against my will
I saw the future, saw me thus and thus
And lastly as I stand here. (To Alexandra.) Is it then
Not passing strange if dreams step into life?
Again the gleaming mirror overmisted,
The light grew ashen-coloured and myself,
So shortly since a blooming creature, blanched
As though beneath the splendour of this garb
My every vein had long been stilly bleeding.
A shudder gripped me, and I cried “I come now
As skull and bones and that I will not see!”
And then I turned away—
[She turns away from the mirror.
Voices in the background.