Scene 5

Herod. Joseph.

[Enter a Servant.

Servant.

Your kinsman!

Herod.

He is welcome!

There is my man! To him I hand my sword

And goad him through the craven mood so deep

To hardy mettle that he’ll use’t like me.

[Enter Joseph.

Joseph.

I heard immediate start for Alexandria

Is your intent, and wished to bid God-speed.

Herod.

God-speed! A speed, belike, without returning.

Joseph.

Without returning!

Herod.

Ay, ’tis possible.

Joseph.

I never saw you thus till now.

Herod.

Proof certain

I never was in such ill plight till now.

Joseph.

But if you grow heart-faint——

Herod.

I’ll not, I say!

For, come what will, I’ll bear it: yet the hope

That any good can come leaves me in lurch.

Joseph.

That makes me wish to God I had been blind

And ne’er on Alexandra’s hooded doings

Had played the pry.

Herod.

I could believe it of you!

Joseph.

For had I not unearthed the portraiture

Of Aristobulus which in secrecy

For Antony was painted, and had I

Not scented out her courier-despatch

To Cleopatra: more than all, the coffin

That with her son concealed her at the harbour—

Had I not blocked it and prevented flight

That was begun already——

Herod.

Then had she

No thanks to owe you, and with qualmless mind

You’d bear to see her daughter on the throne,

The throne that she, the dauntless Maccabean,

Will surely mount if I return no more,

And none before her edge his way thereto.

Joseph.

I mean it not that way; I mean that much

Had lain in smother.

Herod.

Much! Why, not a doubt

But much that’s awkward had instead occurred.

No matter now. You make your tally full;

But there’s one item you’ve forgot——

Joseph.

And that?

Herod.

You were presumably attending him

The time he went a-bathing when——

Joseph.

I was.

Herod.

Presumably you wrestled him?

Joseph.

At first, yes.

Herod.

H’m, queerish! Well?

Joseph.

No dizziness attacked him

When he was in my arms, and had it happened

Either I would have rescued him or he

Had dragged me under with him to the bottom.

Herod.

No doubt. But as you cannot help but know,

All who were there make just your protestation,

And since a perverse chance will have it so,

That you not only bore him company

But wrestled him——

Joseph.

What means that check of word?

Herod.

My Joseph, you and I, we make a couple

That stands stern charge.

Joseph.

I too?

Herod.

I dare assert

I have both kin and trusty friend in you?

Joseph.

’Tis so I flatter me.

Herod.

’Twere better not so.

Had I like Saul cast the dart after you

And could you prove it through your deathly wound

For you ’twere better: no back-biter’s word

Had risen to find the credulous ear: and you,

For a blood-deed of which your hands were guiltless,

Would never lose your head.

Joseph.

I? lose my head?

Herod.

That is your fate if I do not return,

And Mariamne——

Joseph.

But my hands are guiltless:

Herod.

What helps you there? the ugly look’s against you.

And then again, suppose you were believed,

Are not the many, many services

You’ve rendered me, in Alexandra’s eyes

As many crimes against herself? Will she

Not have these thoughts—“Had he o’erwinked my flight

There’d be one living who now lies i’ the grave?”

Joseph.

True, true!

Herod.

And can she not then with some show

Of right demand your life to pay another’s

That she imagines lost through fault of yours?

Will she not set her daughter on to do it?

Joseph.

Salome! Ah, that comes of visiting

The painter. Year on year fresh portraits of me

She still demands.

Herod.

I know she loves you dear.

Joseph.

The less her love, the better were my case.

Had I the portrait of Aristobulus

Detected when I—good then. She can soon

Possess my latest, less a head.

Herod.

My Joseph,

A man protects his head.

Joseph.

When you have given

Your own for lost?

Herod.

That’s only half the trick.

I’ll try to save it through the stratagem,

That of myself free-willed I thrust that head

Into the lion’s gullet.

Joseph.

Once luck helped you

When the Pharisees——

Herod.

This is a sorrier case.

But hap what haps to me it is my will

To lay your destiny in your own hands.

You always were a man, be now a king.

I hang the purple mantle round your neck

And proffer you the sceptre and the sword.

Hold fast. To me alone you give it back!

Joseph.

What, do I understand you?

Herod.

And confirm

Your throne and life with it in certain tenure

By killing Mariamne if your hear

That I return not hither.

Joseph.

Mariamne?

Herod.

She is the last bond whereby Alexandra

Is knit unto the folk now that the flood

Has choked her son; she is the gay-hued plume

Rebellion’s helm will flaunt, the day whereon

It heads against you.

Joseph.

Ah, but Mariamne!

Herod.

Amazed that I——? I’ll make no false front, Joseph!

My counsel’s good, is good for you; what need

Of further words? yet, to be frank, I give it

Not for your sake alone—Here’s the bluff truth!

That she should with some other—I can’t bear it—

That would be bitterer than—I grant she’s proud—

But after death—and then, Antony—

And first and worst of all that mother of hers

Who’ll harry on the dead against the dead—

You catch my drift, you must.

Joseph.

But——

Herod.

Hear me out!

She led me on to hope that she herself

Would deal her death if I——Tell me, can debts

Be summoned in by proxy? ’Tis allowed

Even by force—what think you?

Joseph.

’Tis allowed.

Herod.

Promise me then that you will take her life

If she take not her own. Be not too hasty

And not too tardy either. Go to her

Soon as my messenger, for I shall send one,

Reports of me “it’s over!” tell it her

And mark then if she reaches hand for dirk

Or makes to do aught else. You promise?

Joseph.

Yes.

Herod.

I will not have you swear, for no man yet

Forced any one to swear he’d use his foot

To crush a snake that threatened him with death.

He does it of himself if he be sane;

For he could sooner practise abstinence

Of meat and drink without a scathe, than this.

[Joseph makes a gesture.

I know you throughly and I will commend you

To Antony as one in all this crew

That he dare trust in. You will prove him that

By showing that a woman of your blood

Is not too sacred to become your victim

When smothering of rebellion is the stake,

For that’s the point of view will gloze the deed,

That side you serve up for his eyes. ’Tis followed

By a street hubbub: your despatch to him

Is that an outbreak was your deed’s precursor

And only by its instrument was quelled.

As for the folk, ’twill have a shuddering-fit

When it beholds your bloody sword, and many

Will say:—“It seems I knew but half this man!”

And now——

Joseph.

I’ll see you yet, not now alone;

I know for sure, as ever you’ll come back.

Herod.

’Tis not past hope: and therefore one thing more—

[A long pause.

I swore just now an oath that touches you.

[Writes a letter and seals it.

Here ’tis! Receive in charge this letter sealed.

You see the run o’ the title—

Joseph.

To the headsman!

Herod.

I’ll keep what I have therein promised you,

And if, perhaps, you’ve mind to tell a tale

About a King who——

Joseph.

Come! Impose the task,

To hand this note myself unto the headsman.[5]

[Exit.