The Tragedy of Mariam

Actus 4. Scoena 4.

1613 spelling, from EEBO-TCP A17956. Not modernized.

Herod.

VVHat here?

Bu.

A drinke procuring loue,
The Queene desir'd me to deliuer it.

Mar.

Did I: some hatefull practise this will proue,
Yet can it be no worse then Heauens permit.

Herod.

Confesse the truth wicked instrument,
To her outragious will, passion sure:
Tell true, and scape the punishment,
Which if doe conceale endure.

Bu.

I know not, but I doubt it be no lesse,
Long […]ince the hate of you her heart did cease.

Herod.

Know'st the cause thereof?

Bu.

My Lord I gesse,
Sohemus told the tale that did displease.

Herod.

Oh Heauen! Sohemus false! Goe let him die,
Stay not to suffer him to speake a word:
Oh damned villaine, did he falsifie
The oath he swore eu'n of his owne accord?
Now doe I know falshood, painted Diuill
white Inchantres. Oh art so foule,
That Ysop cannot clense worst of euill.
A beautious body hides a loathsome soule,
Your loue Sohemus mou'd by his affection,
Though he haue euer heretofore bene true:
Did blab , that I did giue direction,
If we were put to death to slaughter you.
And you in blacke reu[…]nge attended now
To adde a murther to your breach of vow.

Mar.

Is this a dream?

Her.

Oh Heauen, that t'were no more,
Ile giue my Realme to who can proue it so:
[…] would I were like any begger poore,
So I for false my Mariam did not know.
Foule pith contain'd in the fairest rinde,
That euer grac'd a Caedar. Oh eye
Is pure as heauen, but impure minde,
And for impuritie shall Mariam die.
Why loue Sohemus? Mar: they can tell
That say I lou'd him, Mariam saies not so.

Herod.

Oh cannot impudence the coales expell,
That for loue in Herods bosome glow[…]:
It is as plaine as water, and deniall
Makes of falsehood but a greater triall.
beheld selfe, and staine
So rare perfection: euen for loue of
I doe profoundly hate . Wert plaine,
the wonder of Iudea bee.
But oh art not. Hell it selfe lies hid
Beneath heauenly show. Yet neuer wert chast:
might'st exalt, pull downe, command, forbid,
And be aboue the wheele of fortune plast.
Hadst complotted Herods massacre,
That so sonne a Monarch might be stilde,
Not halfe so grieuous such an action were,
As once to thinke, that Mariam is defilde.
Bright workmanship of nature sulli'd ore,
With pitched darknes now end shall bee:
not liue faire fiend to cozen more,
With heauy semblance, as cousnedst mee.
Yet must I loue in despight of death,
And die in the dispight of loue:
For neither shall my loue prolong breath,
Nor shall losse of breath my loue remoue.
I might haue seene falsehood in face,
Where get stares that seru'd for eyes?
Except by theft, and theft is foule disgrace:
This had appear'd before were Herod wise,
But I'me a sot, a very sot, no better:
My wisedome long agoe a wandring fell,
f[…]ce incoun[…]ring it, my wit did fetter,
And made me for delight my freedome […]ell.
Giue me my heart false creature, a wrong,
My guliltles heart should now with be slaine:
hadst no right to looke it vp so long,
And with vsurpers name I Mariam staine.

He:

Haue you design'd Sohemus to his end?

Bu:

I haue my Lord Herod: Then call our royall guard
To doe as much for Mariam, they offend
Leaue ill vnblam'd, or good without reward.
Here take her to her death Come backe, come backe,
What ment I to depriue the world of light:
To muffle Iury in the foulest blacke,
That euer was an opposite to white.
Why would you carrie her: Sould: you bad
We should conduct her to her death my Lord.

Hero:

Wie sure I did not, Herod was not mad,
Why should she feele the furie of the sword?
Oh now the griefe returnes into my heart,
And pulles me peecemeale: loue and hate doe fight:
And now boue acquir'd the greater part,
Yet now hate, affection conquer'd quite.
And therefore beare her : and Hebrew why
Seaze you with Lyons pawes the fairest lam
Of all the flocke? she must not, shall not, die,
Without her I most miserable am.
And with her more then most, away, away,
But beare her but to prison not to death:
And is she gon indeed, stay villaines stay,
Her lookes alone preseru'd your Soueraignes breath.
Well let her goe, but yet she shall not die,
I cannot thinke she ment to poison me:
But certaine she liu'd too wantonly,
And therefore shall she neuer more be free.

EEBO-TCP Phase I, CC0. TCP A17956. Spelling is the 1613 printing, not modernized. TCP transcription. Oxford Text Archive.