Scene 2
Alexandra alone.
Alex.
The folk’s already struck him dead in thought!
I know, I know! and by that token see
How sore the wish that he no more returns.
A lucky juncture that the locust-swarm
Settled on him as he went forth! It stands
For omen that it is no futile wish.
It may be, too, by now an actual thing
That, less his head—Not that! Speak as you think!
No eavesdrop Pharisee’s before the door.
An Antony is sure an Antony,
Ay, but a Roman, and a Roman gives
His verdict slow as the fulfilment’s swift.
Prisoner he may be though he sit not yet
Within the dungeon: and a coaxing deft
Can lead it further. Therefore it is good
If now rebellion come, albeit I know
What in itself’s its import, and not less
What aftermath it trammels up if he
Return in Fate’s despite. If! It can happen!
Think well upon’t! He sent you as he left
A severed head for a farewell-reminder.
That shows you—Pah! I speak just like my father!
It shows me that he’s swift to the deed, as tyrants
Are wont; and further that he’s fain to fright me.
The one I long have known, the other shall
Slip his intent; and if the worst should come,
If all o’erleap its target and if he,
Spite his infatuate love for Mariamne
Which sooner mounts than falls and which protects me,
Should dare his fellest once her will is won—
What of it? On revenge is all my stake
And that revenge would follow me in death,
Revenge on him who did it and on her
Who let it happen. Never would the folk
And never Rome look on indulgent-slack,
And then, what touches me myself, I would
In an event so bloody all the better
Be mated with my forebears. They were forced,
The greater number of my stem, th’ Eld-Mothers
As the Eld-Fathers, to forsake the world
Short of a head because they would not bend it.
I would but share their fate; what were it more?