And meet him; fare thee well.—If there be need,
My soldiers at the least alarm are ready,
And will defend us.
SCENE II.
varus, albinus, mazael, Attendants on varus.
varus.
Salome and Mazael—
They seem to shun us; in their eyes I read
Their terrors; guilt hath reason to be fearful,
And dread my presence.—Mazael, stay: go, tell
Thy cruel master his designs are known;
His wicked instrument is now in chains,
And should have met the death he merited,
But my regard for Herod bids me hope
That he will soon behold the snare they laid.
Punish the traitors, and revenge the cause
Of injured virtue: if thou lovest thy king,
If thou regardest his honor or his peace,
Calm his wild rage, embitter not his soul
With vile suspicions, and remember, slave,
Rome is the scourge of villainy; remember
That Varus knows thee; that he’s master here,
And that his eyes are open to detect thee
Away: let Mariamne be obeyed,
And treated like a queen; observe her well,
And, if thy life be dear to thee, respect her.
mazael.
My lord—
varus.
Begone: you know my last commands;
Reply not, but obey them.
SCENE III.
varus, albinus.
varus.
Without thee,
And thy well-timed advice, thou seest, my friend,
The beautous Mariamne had been lost.
albinus.
Zares’ return raised my suspicions of him;
His most officious care to avoid thy presence,
And troubled features, I must own, alarmed me.
varus.
How much I owe thee for the important service!
By thee she lives; by thee my heart once more
Shall taste its noble happiness, the best
And fairest treasure of the virtuous mind,
The happiness to succor the oppressed.
albinus.
Such generous cares befit the soul of Varus;
Thy arm was ever stretched to help the wretched;
Still hast thou born Rome’s thunder through the world,
And only conquered but to bless mankind;
Would I might say thy pity dictates here,
And not thy love!
varus.
Must love then be the cause?
Who would not cherish innocence like hers?
What heart, howe’er indifferent, would not plead
So fair a cause? who would not die to save her?
albinus.
Thus the deceitful passion hides itself
In virtue’s garb, and steals into the heart:
Thy hapless flame—
varus.
Albinus, I confess it;
The wretched Varus dotes on Mariamne:
Thou seest my naked heart, which fears not thee,
Because thou art my friend: judge then, Albinus,
How must her dangers have alarmed my soul!
Her safety and her welfare are my own;
Death in its ugliest form were welcome to me,
If it could make my Mariamne happy.
albinus.
How altered is the noble heart of Varus!
Love has avenged himself of all thy flights;
No longer do I see the virtuous Roman,
Severe and unimpassioned, ’midst the crowd
Of rival beauties, who solicited
His wandering eyes, regardless of their charms.
varus.
To virtue then, thou knowest, and her alone,
I paid my vows: in vain corrupted Rome
Offered her venal beauties to my eyes;
Their pride disgusted, and their arts displeased;
False in their vows, and in their vengeance cruel:
I saw their shameless fronts all covered o’er
With foul dishonor: vanity, ambition,
Caprice, and folly, bore the name of love;
Such conquests were unworthy of thy friend.
At length the power I had so long contemned
Indignant saw me from his Eastern throne,
And soon subdued; it was my fate to rule
O’er Syria’s melancholy plains: when heaven
Had to Augustus given the vanquished world,
And Herod, midst a crowd of kneeling kings,
Fell at his feet, and sued for his protection,
Hither I came, and fatal to my peace
Was Palestine, for there I first beheld her.
The melancholy theme of every tongue
Was Mariamne’s woes; all wept her fate,
Doomed to the arms of an inhuman husband,
Who slew the father of his lovely bride:
Thou knowest what miseries she had suffered since,
Her sorrows only equalled by her virtue:
Truth, ever banished from the courts of kings,
Dwells on her lips, and all the art she knows
Is but the generous care to serve the wretched.
Her duty is her law; her innocence,
Calm and serene, contemns the tyrant’s power,
And pardons her oppressor; even solicits
My aid to save the man who would destroy her.
Her virtues, her misfortunes, and her charms
United, are too powerful for my soul;
I love her, my Albinus; but my love
Is not a passion which one day creates,
And in another is forgotten; no: