And what? Perchance in stillness
He burned for her. But if that were a sin
Then it was his and never aught of hers.
He cried to me:—“I die because I spoke;
Else had I died because I might have spoken.
For such was Joseph’s lot. He swore while still
In death that he was innocent as I,
I marked it.”

Herod (breaking out).

Joseph! Is he too avenged?
Does Earth gape open? Do the striding dead
Outface me all?

Alex. (approaching him).

They do! But no, fear nothing.
There’s one—a woman—still lies under earth!

Herod.

Accursèd! (Commanding himself.) Be it so. If then Soemus
Committed but a single crime against me,

[He turns to Salome.

Joseph, through whom this vulgar-souled suspicion
Had filled him, Joseph fooled him even in death—
Is it not so?—Why are you silent now?

Salome.

Hot-foot he dogged her every step——

Alex. (to Herod).

Ay true!
But with intent to find the ripened time,
No more, in which to carry out your charge
Both her and me to murder——

Herod.

Is this true?
(To Salome.) And you, you?

Alex.

Almost the self-same hour
Why he allowed his mask fully to fall
Had Mariamne ta’en on her the oath
To give herself, if you returned not hither,
A sacrifice to death. I hide it not.
For doing so I hated her.

Herod.

Oh fearful!
And this—but now you tell this?

Alex.

Yes!

Titus.

I know
This too. It was her latest word to me.
But for a thousand years I had been silent,
I would but clear her name, not give you torture.

Herod.

Then—— (His voice fails him.)

Titus.

Calm yourself! It wounds me too.

Herod.

Ay, wounds
You, her (to Salome) and everyone who here, like me,
Has been the blinded tool of slant-souled Fate,
But I alone have lost what on this earth
Eternally will ne’er be seen again.
Have lost! Oh! Oh!

Alex.

Aha, Aristobulus,
You are avenged, my son, and I in you.

Herod.

What, triumphing? You think that I will now
Wilt like a broken thing? Nay, I will not.
I am a king and I will let the world

[He makes a gesture as though snapping something to pieces.

Feel it and tremble! Up now, Pharisees.
Up with your rebel heads! (To Salome.) And you, why shrink you
So soon from me? Why, sure, I’ve not yet altered
My face, but on the morrow it may happen
That my own mother shall be forced to swear
I am no more her son.

[After a pause, in a toneless voice.

Ah, if my crown
Were set with all the stars that flame in heaven,
For Mariamne I would give them hence
And, if I had it too, this earthen ball.
Yea, were it possible that I myself
Living as now within the grave could lay me
And ransom her from out her own, I’d do it!
With my own hands I’d dig myself therein.
Ah, but I cannot! Therefore have I still
And fastly hold what still I have. That is
Not much, but still a crown is part thereof
Which now shall fill for me the woman’s place,
And who makes grasp for that—One does so now;
Why yes, a Boy does so, a Marvellous Boy—
He Whom the Prophets have long been announcing
And Whom e’en now a star lights into life.
But, Fate, thy reckoning is sore at fault
If thou, in trampling me with iron foot,
A piecemeal thing, hast thought to smooth His course.
A soldier I; myself will fight with thee
And, as I lie, will bite thee in the heel.
(Sharply.) Joab!

[Joab approaches.

(In a contained voice.) You go at once to Bethlehem
And tell the Captain there who’s in command
To find the Marvellous Boy—Nay, he will not
Ransack him out, not all can see the star;
As for those Kings, they’re sly as sanctimonious—
The children who within the bygone year
Were born, he is to slay upon the spot.
He leaves no single one surviving.

Joab (retreating).

Good!
(Aside.) And I know why! But Moses was delivered
Pharaoh despite!

Herod (still loud and strong).

I’ll see to it to-morrow,
To-day with Mariamne—(He collapses.) Titus!

[Titus catches him.

APPENDIX

containing passages from the original version and those omitted for stage representation.

1. At this point was written originally:—

I’ve no more use for him; behind the plough
To trapse is ’gainst his stomach; as to music,
For that he’s over-restive; then the trumpet,
I tried some blowing-lessons—wasted all!
Fists, ay and fine ones too, are his equipment,
Fear he knows none, not e’en the fear of me.
And since the day you scoured the mountains clean
There’s never brigand gives himself to glimpse.
So he’s with us a lack-use, and perchance
Will be the first to get a kink in his ways
And spoil our maiden’s pleasure in the woods.
If you’ll not—(To his son.) Now then, Blacklooks, clear your brow!
The word was not ill-meant; and if the King
Forgives the jest, why you can do it too!
So then you’ll take him, Sire? Before the gate
I saw the Roman cohort in your service
And thought this raw-hide lad was just their fellow,
In all, I mean, that touches form and fashion,
As though, within the very mother-womb,
He’d had the thought to stop a gap therein.
No single one I saw gave me the notion
He might have had a bent or finger-knack
For sandal-cobbling or for garment-stitching,
But in each mother’s son I thought I marked
That straight upon the Captain’s uttered word
He’d spit his very sire without a qualm,
—Just what this sprig of mine were ripe to do!
The worser else, for soldiering the better.

2. Insert:—

If this lad be not true to me, why then
His mother was no better toward his father.
At least he’ll be so for an eight-days’ space
For he knows none here. That’s a point worth while!

[Exit Joab.

3. In the MS.:—

Of pearls we spoke our latest word. But pearls
Are white and blood is red. How came I then
From white of pearls upon the red of blood?
’Tis naught; the wearing’s sweet, nor long the question
Whether the diver, even to arm and leg,
Paid a forced reckoning to the snatching polyp.
For if his fate be such to go a-seeking
And fight therefore the Things o’ the underwaters,
’Tis mine to have them for the necklet-winding
And make myself a mark for every arrow
Winged by wry hearts and hate—worse lot than his!
Who has a head believes him worth a crown,
Who has a neck wants pearls as well thereon.

4. After this line in the MS.:—

Believe my word, natures there are in life
That put deceit, and must, on all whose trusting
Is not a wholeheart thing. Not in the testing,
Nay, through the testing’s self they topple groundward
Being too high therefor, too fine of feel.
Woe then to you if you’ve no heart for trusting,
Since you—Forgive me! This is the last time.

Herod.

Farewell.

Mariamne.

Farewell. I know you will come back.

5. Insert:—

Herod (aside).

I’ll do it—ay and must, though doubly sore
It sting me that no more is in my power.

6. Insert:—

Ay, and for us as well ’twill serve a turn,
Henceforth through all Judaea ’twill be ours
To fare at night-time and without our torches.
You see the King knows well what he’s about.

7. The text runs:—

Es wär’ genug den Cäsar zu bezahlen
Und schätzt er selbst sich ab vorm Tode.

The words seem to mean “The tribute would be enough to pay Caesar if he (Herod) were assessing his own value to save himself from death.” The passage proved too much for me, and I owe this explanation to Mr. Nicholson. I translate:—

It were enough to quit his debt to Caesar
Were he himself to rate his worth ’gainst death.

8. Insert:—

Herod, if it were mine with one mere word
To pluck me from my death, never would I
Seek such abjection as that word to utter;
If I were strong to tell me that my life,
My whole-of-blemish life itself had spoken,
Then would I rather die than let misthought
Of meaner mould by such a word be stifled.
Forget not that!

9. Insert:—

That you deny. Now ere the time I know,
If death be overhasty on my footsteps,
What thing will make me quail in my last hour.
I saw, now years agone, a dying man
Upon a field of fight, on whom an insect
Had crept and stung. One twitch he still could give
And straight thereon yielded the final breath.
I felt its horror. For his wounds, I scarce
Set eyes upon them, but the insect-sting
I see even now. And thus ’twill go with me.
That sense-repelling, spirit-sickening thing
Is my last torture. Take my prepaid thanks!

10. Insert:—

If it have weight for me, ’twill lie for me
Self-manifest.

11. Insert:—

To-night a feast! I’ll shape me to the image
That he must bear in heart, deeming it me!
He sees me ever dancing, that is clear,
E’en when I’m weeping and dissolved in anguish.
Dance then I shall!—set on the cymbal’s clashing
That at my sight he be not put to blush!

12. Instead of this speech of Soemus the MS. has:—

Then stood I not before you. Then on me
Had fallen his death-hand, as, when he returns,
That death-hand will and must soon as it may.
That lay and lies i’ the order. Even as I
Was but his limb, I had alone ’twixt death
And life the simple choice. My bow was forced
And forced the hypocriting—have your word.
Albeit my inmost soul before him froze.

13. Insert:—

Soemus.

He hoodwinked me not for a moment’s space.
And all the less for this, that Joseph’s death
To me was less a riddle than to all
Who saw him not upon his latest path.
’Twill shock you to recoil—but there was like
Injunction laid on him, and he kept dumb
Lest aught should slip his guard. Thus much at least
I must believe, for in the very dying
He swore he’d naught committed worthy death.

Mar.

I know it all—yes!

Soemus.

What?

Alex.

And gave’t your pardon?

Soemus.

And, that despite, extolled him and defended?
Then the mere harboured thought upon your hurt
Was a more heinous thing than the wrought deed
On any woman else!

Mar.

Come to my feast! etc.

14. Insert:—

Titus.

If so be your physician
Gave him assurance that from Africa
You brought a fever, then (so ran his words)
He’d pardon your misthought, but else——

Herod.

So speaks he
Knowing full well the aftermath, and fain
To be her shield before my vengeance. That
I understand. And what veneer, etc.

The original version ran thus:—

Titus.

If so be your physician——

Herod.

What were his grounds?

Titus.

The thing you hug so close.

Herod.

And how was that?

Titus.

He gave me half-light hints.
“You laid on him an outrage passing nature
In whose compare to set into a blaze
The Temple even, were none.”

Herod.

And, not content
To leave it undischarged, whereby enough
Were expiated the most ticklesome
Of consciences to mollify, he went
Flying to her with my command, and made
His bid—no guess you know it—

Titus.

Naught!

Herod.

He kept
Concealed from you what he laid bare to her?
Oh had he changed his rôle about! Nay, never!
He must have given to you what stood for him
Within her payment. Learn it then from me—
I laid on him—ask me not why—command
Whereby he was to kill her if myself
Should have no home-return. That thus I did
Proves you how deep I trusted him. Believe me
I had good ground therefor, and if the iron,
Whereof the man is mettled, flagged and flowed,
It proves but this, that he was in the fire.

Titus.

Yes, yes, and yet—’tis not what I’d have done.

Herod.

Had she but loved me as I her, then were she
After my death all out of love with life.
What the heart’s out of love with lets a man
Begone, nor rues it. No one holds it fast.
What was the point to ponder? Had she not
Tripped me behind my back, she’d gladly die;
Whereas if she did trip me, then were hers
A well-earned death for such a double front.
Then let the friend of twilight blame my step,
The light’s my choice, and now I see full clear,
I see what health there is within her heart.
Why fret my soul with this and that? why question
If, after swearing deathless love to me,
In such or such a way she made the breach?
Granted that she were pure, granted Soemus
Made her his head away—I cannot think it
But grant ’twere so—that Joseph did the same,
Was it my cue, before her spite’s stiff neck,
To sink my own, and like a milksop let her
Twist her to sheer negation of her soul?
Oh nay, Oh nay! I swear it by the key
Of Paradise that she holds in her hands.
By all beatitude that she erewhile
Has granted me, that she can grant me still,
I lash what she became, not what she did.
You eye me doubtfully, you think I reach
Myself in her. I do it, oh I do it!
If it may hap that men can die of wounds
They give and not receive, then even now
’Twill come to pass—and yet to my content.

15. Insert:—

And this is now the second time. Then hear—
By your stark stubbornness, upon an earth
Where all’s in flux, the only rigid thing;
By every day of loveliness I lived
With you to share, each day that now no more
I dare remember; by my future, which
Can never bring to me such days again;
Yea, by the very shudder which were fain
E’en now to choke this oath; this day, this hour
I’ll have it out, whether my life is one
With life of yours, and if it be that Nature
In mock and gibe enknots me with a creature
For ever—one to whom I’m naught, who can
Avenge her thus, nay stand here as you do!
Away! (To The Judges.) You halt? My sentence will no jot
Admit retraction! (Seeing they still hesitate.) Or have I missed the point?

16. Insert:—

Since you are not for me nor yet against.