Three plays by Frederic Hebbel

by Friedrich Hebbel

Scene 6

Mariamne. Titus. Afterwards, Joab.

Mariamne. (approaching Titus).

Yet one more word before I sleep, the while

My latest chamberlain prepares my bed.

I see you are astounded that this word

Directs itself on you and not my mother,

But she is far and foreign to my heart.

Titus.

Astounded that the woman thus should teach me

How hearted I, the man, should meet my death.

Yes, Queen, it prickles sense, this thing you’ve done,

Nor less, I hide it not, your Being’s self;

Yet, this despite, the hero-soul I honour

Which lets you take your leave of life as though

You left this fair world at your journey’s end

No longer worth a fleeting backward glance.

And this brave mood half reconciles me to you.

Mar.

’Tis no brave mood.

Titus.

I’ faith I have been told

Your black-look Pharisees give out the notion

That death is but the proper birth of life.

And who believes them sets the world at nothing

In which the sun alone gives light eternal

And all beside is puffed into the night.

Mar.

I ne’er would hear them and believe it not.

Nay, nay, I know from what I am to part.

Titus.

Then you stand thus as scarce could Caesar’s self

When Brutus’ hand had dealt the dagger-thrust.

For he, too proud to bare his pain of heart

And yet not strong enough to choke it under,

In falling covered up his countenance.

But you can hold it back within your breast.

Mar.

No more, no more! It is not as you think.

I feel no longer pain of heart, for pain

Demands the nerve of life, and life in me

Is a quenched fire. I long have been no more

Than middle thing between the Man and Shadow

And scarcely grasp the thought I still can die.

Hear now a thing I will confide in you,

But first give oath to me as man and Roman

That you’ll be dumb till I am under earth,

And that you bear me escort when I go.

You hesitate? I ask too much of you?

My slip to sin is not the cause, and if

You later speak or if you hold your peace

Decide yourself; I’ll bind you not in aught,

And more, I hold that wish of mine in check

Since you have ever, like a bronzen god

Above a brawl of fire, self-mastered, cold,

Cast the strong fretless eye upon our hell.

You may command belief in giving witness.

We are for you a race of other breed

No bond can knit to you; you speak of us

As we would speak of foreign plants and stones,

Impartial, void of love and void of hate.

Titus.

You go too far.

Mar.

If you refuse me now

Your overstubborn word, I take my secret

With me into the grave; my latest solace

I then must lack this—that one human breast

Will keep mine image pure and undefiled,

Which then when Fate has dared its ugliest

Can lift the veil that shrouds it from the feel

Of duty and of reverence for the truth.

Titus.

Good. I will swear the oath to you.

Mar.

Then know

I put deceit on Herod, but ’twas other,

Far other than he weens; nay, I was true

As he to self. Why shame me thus—much truer,

For he has long been other than he was.

What, am I to protest it? Sooner far

I were resolved to swear an oath I have

My eyes and hands and feet. Them I would lose

And I would still remain that which I am;

But not my heart and soul.

Titus.

I do believe you

And I will——

Mar.

Keep the promise you have made.

I doubt it not. Now ask yourself my feeling

When for the second time (for once already

I’d pardoned him) he put me under sword

And I must say to me:—“Your shadow’s liker

Your proper self than that wry twisted image

He bears of you far in his inmost depths.”

’Twas that I would not bear, and could I so?

I made to grasp my dagger, and prevented

From rash-essayed self-murder, I then swore—

“It is your will in death to be my headsman?

You shall become my headsman, but in life.

The woman you have gazed on you shall slaughter

And not till death shall see me as I am;”

You came unto my feast; well then, a mask

Was dancing there.

Titus.

Ha!

Mar.

’Twas a mask that stood

To-day before the Judges; for a mask

The axe is whetted, but it strikes myself.

Titus.

I stand dumbfounded, Queen, and yet I charge you

With no injustice when perforce I say

That you had duped my very self, had filled me

With horror and recoil before your feast

As now with shudders and admiring wonder.

If thus with me, how could this show for him

Have failed to dim your Being in a darkness,

For him, whose heart all passion-fluctuous

As little as a turbid-troubled stream

Could image things reflected as they are.

Therefore I give his hurt my answering feel

And find that your revenge is overstern.

Mar.

But that revenge I take at my own cost;

And proof it was not for the sake of life

That death like any altar-beast incensed me

I give you, for I cast that life away.

Titus.

Give me my word again!

Mar.

And if you broke it

You’d alter not a tittle; for to die,

There man commands his fellow, but to live,

In that the mightiest forces not the weakest.

And I’m aweary! Yea, I envy now

The stone, and if the end of life is this

That man should learn to hate it and to death,

Eternal death, give preference, it is

Achieved in me. And may they quarry granite,

Uncrumbling rock, to hollow out my coffin,

May it be sunken in abysmal ocean

That so my dust escape the elements

Oblivioned for all eternity.

Titus.

And yet we all live in the world of show.

Mar.

I see that now and therefore I go out.

Titus.

I have myself against you testified.

Mar.

To gain that end I had you at the feast.

Titus.

Should I say to him what to me you’ve said—

Mar.

Then he would call me back, I doubt it not.

And if I followed, this were my reward,

That now before each one that comes anear me

Henceforward I must shudder and inly say—

“Take care, for this perchance is your third headsman!”

No, Titus, no, I played no pettish game;

For me there’s no return; if such there were

Think you I had not found it out when I

Took everlasting farewell from my children?

Naught but defiance drove me, as he thinks;

If so my guiltless smart had broke defiance

And now ’twould only mean a bitterer death.

Titus.

Oh, if he felt that, came himself and flung him

Down at your feet!

Mar.

Yes, then indeed he had

The Demon overmastered, and I could

Say all to him. For it is not my part

To chaffer with him meanly for a life

That through the price alone at which ’tis bought

Must lose for me the paltriest patch of worth.

It were my part, to crown him for self-conquest

And, oh believe, I could!

Titus.

Have you no boding,

O Herod?

[Joab enters noiselessly and remains standing in silence.

Mar.

No! You see, he sends me—him! (pointing to Joab.)

Titus.

Let me——

Mar.

Have you not understood me, Titus?

And in your eyes is still the cause defiance

That put my mouth in lock? Can I still live?

Can I still live with him, the man who now

In me God’s image venerates no more?

And if by keeping silence I had power

To necromance old Death and give him weapons

Were it my duty then to break my silence

Only to change one dagger for the other?

And were it more to do so?

Titus.

She is right.

Mar. (to Joab).

Are you prepared?

[Joab bows.

(Turning towards Herod’s apartments.) Then, Herod, fare you well!

(To Earth.) Thou, Aristobulus, oh receive my greeting!

Soon I am with thee in eternal night.

[She moves towards the door. Joab opens it. Armed men are seen who form their ranks in homage. She goes out. Titus follows her. Joab joins them. Solemn pause.