Scene 4
Herod. Mariamne. Salome.
Salome (entering hastily).
What plan you, Man of Horror? Ah, I see
My husband led away; and he conjures me
Beseech you for your mercy—but I wavered
Because I bear him grudge nor understand him,
And now—and now I hear things gruesome whispered.
They say—they lie! Say so!
Herod.
Your husband dies!
Salome.
Before he is condemned? Ah, never, never!
Herod.
Himself is his condemner; for the letter
That forfeits him to death was in his hands
Before he played me traitor, and he knew
What penalty it was awaited him
If done; he put him ’neath that penalty
And in its spite he did it.
Salome.
Herod, hear me!
Do you know that for sure? I did accuse him
And felt beneath my charge the base of right;
I had my grounds therefor—and that he loved her
Was open fact; he had indeed for me
No single further glance, no press of hand—
He was by day about her when he could be.
And in the night his dreams betrayed to me
How firm she held his thought in grip; all that
Is true and more; but, for all that, it follows
Not yet that she must love him in requital
And less than all that she—ah no, ah no!
’Twas jealousy that tore me on—forgive!
(To Mariamne.) You too forgive!
O God, and time flies fast! They said—shall I
Then love you as I hated you? Then be
No longer dumb! Speak! Say that he is guiltless
And plead for his reprieve even as myself.
Mar.
He is!
Herod.
In her construction, not in mine.
Mar.
In yours as well.
Herod.
You must then have known nothing;
And now a nothing can be his excuse.
And if I make him now a gift to death
Without foretrial, ’tis because my will
Is bent to show you that my thought of you
Is nowise base and mean, and that I rue
The rash-born word that fell from my first wrath,
And more because I know that he can have
Nothing to say to me.
[Enter Soemus.