SCENE 8

SALOME, THE THREE KINGS FROM THE EAST, HEROD, TITUS, JOAB, ALEXANDRA.

SERVANT.

Three kings from out the Eastern lands are here, They are with costly presents richly laden And at this very moment have arrived. Never were seen more strangely striking figures Nor garments of more wondrous kind than these.

SALOME.

Conduct them in.

[_Exit_ SERVANT.

I’ll tell him this at once. So long as they’re with him he will not think On her; and all is over soon with her.

[_She goes after_ HEROD.

[_The_ SERVANT _conducts in the_ THREE KINGS FROM THE EAST. _They are dressed in strange and curious raiment in such a way that they differ from each other in every particular. A rich retinue follows them, of like characteristics. Gold, incense, and myrrh. Enter_ HEROD, _and_ SALOME _shortly after him_.

FIRST KING.

O King, all hail!

SECOND KING.

A blessing on thy House!

THIRD KING.

A benison to all eternity!

HEROD.

I thank you. But methinks for such an hour The salutation’s strange.

FIRST KING.

Was not a son Born to you?

HEROD.

Me? Oh no! My wife has died.

FIRST KING.

We have no call to tarry here.

SECOND KING.

So there’s A second King then here?

HEROD.

Then there would be None here at all.

THIRD KING.

There’s here, beside your own, A second stem, it seems, of Kingly blood.

HEROD.

And why?

FIRST KING.

It is so.

SECOND KING.

Yes, it must be so.

HEROD.

Of that too I know naught.

SALOME (_to_ HEROD).

In Bethlehem The stem of David still has left a shoot Remaining.

THIRD KING.

David was a King?

HEROD.

’Tis so.

FIRST KING.

Let us now go even unto Bethlehem!

SALOME (_continuing, to_ HEROD).

But now it plants its seed alone in beggars.

HEROD.

I think it, else----

SALOME.

I spoke once with a virgin Of David’s house, Mary, I think, her name. I found her fair enough for such a lineage, But she was to a carpenter betrothed And scarcely lifted eyes upon my face When I made question of her name.

HEROD.

You hear it?

SECOND KING.

’Tis naught! We go.

HEROD.

You will then, ere you go, Acquaint me what has brought you hither.

FIRST KING.

Reverence Before the King above all Kings.

SECOND KING.

The wish Ere yet we die to view his countenance.

THIRD KING.

The holy duty at His feet in homage To lay whatever on earth is costly-rare.

HEROD.

Who gave you tidings of Him then?

FIRST KING.

His star! We journeyed not together and we knew Naught of each other, for our kingdoms lie To furthest East and furthest West, seas flow Between them, lofty mountains sunder them----

SECOND KING.

And yet it was the self-same star we saw, The self-same impulse that had seized our hearts; We wandered on the self-same way and met us At last together at the self-same goal----

THIRD KING.

Whether a King’s son or a beggar’s son The Child this star has lighted into life Will be uplifted high, and on the Earth No man shall breathe that will not bow to Him.

HEROD (_aside_).

So speaks the Ancient Book as well! (_Aloud._) May I Make offer of a guide to Bethlehem?

FIRST KING (_pointing to Heaven_).

We have a guide!

HEROD.

Then good. And if the Child Be found, I prithee send to me the tidings That I with you may do Him reverence.

FIRST KING.

It shall be done. Now forth to Bethlehem!

[_The_ THREE KINGS _with their retinue leave the stage_.

HEROD.

It never will be done!

[_Enter_ JOAB _and_ TITUS, _followed by_ ALEXANDRA.

Ha!

JOAB.

It is finished!

[HEROD _covers up his face_.

TITUS.

She died, yes, died! But as for me, I have A still more fearful office to perform Than he who brought your word of blood to pass, For I must tell you she was innocent.

HEROD.

No, Titus, no!

[TITUS _is about to speak_.

(_Stepping close up to him._) For were that so, you could not Have let her go to death.

TITUS.

No one was able To hinder that but you. It gives me pain To be against my will your worse than headsman, But if a holy duty yields the dead one, Whoever he may be, the rite of burial, Still holier is the duty from a shame To wash him clean if he deserve it not. This duty now lays law on me alone.

HEROD.

I see from all you say one only thing-- Her spell in death itself was true to her. Why eats Soemus still my heart? How could he Resist this blinding woman in her life? Even in the dying flash she kindled you.

TITUS.

Goes jealousy the very grave beyond?

HEROD.

If I have duped me, if from out your mouth Some other thing than pity now were speaking Too deep by far not to be more than such, Then I must give you warning that your witness Helped to condemn her, that the duty-bond For you had then been this--to give me warning As soon as e’er the tiniest doubt had come.

TITUS.

But my word held me back, and, more than that, The unimplorable Necessity. Had I relaxed from her one pace, no further, Upon herself the deathly thrust were given. I saw the dagger hidden in her breast And more than once the twitching of her hand.

[_Pause._

She wished to die; she must have done so, too. As much she suffered and as much she pardoned As she had power to pardon and to suffer. I have beheld her very innermost, Who more demands should quarrel not with her, Should quarrel only with the elements Which, willed or not, had been so mixed in her That she could go no further. Yes, but let him Show me a woman further gone than she!

[HEROD _makes a gesture_.

She wished to have her death from you, and called The unshapen dream-child of your jealousy Into illusive being at her feast, Juggling her soul to death and all deceiving. I found that stern but not unjust. She stepped As mask before your eyes; the mask was destined To sting you till you pierced it with a sword-thrust.

[_He points to_ JOAB.

And that you did and killed her very self.

HEROD.

So spoke she, but she spoke from vengeance so.

TITUS.

So was it. I have testified against her. How gladly would I doubt it!

HEROD.

And Soemus?

TITUS.

Upon the way that leads to death I met him, He entered on his own as soon as hers Had been accomplished, and he felt it balm To think his blood with hers should be commingled E’en though upon the block by headsman-hand.

HEROD.

Aha! You see?

TITUS.

And what? Perchance in stillness He burned for her. But if that were a sin Then it was his and never aught of hers. He cried to me:--“I die because I spoke; Else had I died because I might have spoken. For such was Joseph’s lot. He swore while still In death that he was innocent as I, I marked it.”

HEROD (_breaking out_).

Joseph! Is he too avenged? Does Earth gape open? Do the striding dead Outface me all?

ALEX. (_approaching him_).

They do! But no, fear nothing. There’s one--a woman--still lies under earth!

HEROD.

Accursèd! (_Commanding himself._) Be it so. If then Soemus Committed but a single crime against me,

[_He turns to_ SALOME.

Joseph, through whom this vulgar-souled suspicion Had filled him, Joseph fooled him even in death-- Is it not so?--Why are you silent now?

SALOME.

Hot-foot he dogged her every step----

ALEX. (_to_ HEROD).

Ay true! But with intent to find the ripened time, No more, in which to carry out your charge Both her and me to murder----

HEROD.

Is this true? (_To_ SALOME.) And you, you?

ALEX.

Almost the self-same hour Why he allowed his mask fully to fall Had Mariamne ta’en on her the oath To give herself, if you returned not hither, A sacrifice to death. I hide it not. For doing so I hated her.

HEROD.

Oh fearful! And this--but now you tell this?

ALEX.

Yes!

TITUS.

I know This too. It was her latest word to me. But for a thousand years I had been silent, I would but clear her name, not give you torture.

HEROD.

Then---- (_His voice fails him._)

TITUS.

Calm yourself! It wounds me too.

HEROD.

Ay, wounds You, her (_to_ SALOME) and everyone who here, like me, Has been the blinded tool of slant-souled Fate, But I alone have lost what on this earth Eternally will ne’er be seen again. Have lost! Oh! Oh!

ALEX.

Aha, Aristobulus, You are avenged, my son, and I in you.

HEROD.

What, triumphing? You think that I will now Wilt like a broken thing? Nay, I will not. I am a king and I will let the world

[_He makes a gesture as though snapping something to pieces._

Feel it and tremble! Up now, Pharisees. Up with your rebel heads! (_To_ SALOME.) And you, why shrink you So soon from me? Why, sure, I’ve not yet altered My face, but on the morrow it may happen That my own mother shall be forced to swear I am no more her son.

[_After a pause, in a toneless voice._

Ah, if my crown Were set with all the stars that flame in heaven, For Mariamne I would give them hence And, if I had it too, this earthen ball. Yea, were it possible that I myself Living as now within the grave could lay me And ransom her from out her own, I’d do it! With my own hands I’d dig myself therein. Ah, but I cannot! Therefore have I still And fastly hold what still I have. That is Not much, but still a crown is part thereof Which now shall fill for me the woman’s place, And who makes grasp for that--One does so now; Why yes, a Boy does so, a Marvellous Boy-- He Whom the Prophets have long been announcing And Whom e’en now a star lights into life. But, Fate, thy reckoning is sore at fault If thou, in trampling me with iron foot, A piecemeal thing, hast thought to smooth His course. A soldier I; myself will fight with thee And, as I lie, will bite thee in the heel. (_Sharply._) Joab!

[JOAB _approaches_.

(_In a contained voice._) You go at once to Bethlehem And tell the Captain there who’s in command To find the Marvellous Boy--Nay, he will not Ransack him out, not all can see the star; As for those Kings, they’re sly as sanctimonious-- The children who within the bygone year Were born, he is to slay upon the spot. He leaves no single one surviving.

JOAB (_retreating_).

Good! (_Aside._) And I know why! But Moses was delivered Pharaoh despite!

HEROD (_still loud and strong_).

I’ll see to it to-morrow, To-day with Mariamne--(_He collapses._) Titus!

[TITUS _catches him_.

APPENDIX

_containing passages from the original version and those omitted for stage representation._

1. _At this point was written originally:_--

I’ve no more use for him; behind the plough To trapse is ’gainst his stomach; as to music, For that he’s over-restive; then the trumpet, I tried some blowing-lessons--wasted all! Fists, ay and fine ones too, are his equipment, Fear he knows none, not e’en the fear of me. And since the day you scoured the mountains clean There’s never brigand gives himself to glimpse. So he’s with us a lack-use, and perchance Will be the first to get a kink in his ways And spoil our maiden’s pleasure in the woods. If you’ll not--(_To his son._) Now then, Blacklooks, clear your brow! The word was not ill-meant; and if the King Forgives the jest, why you can do it too! So then you’ll take him, Sire? Before the gate I saw the Roman cohort in your service And thought this raw-hide lad was just their fellow, In all, I mean, that touches form and fashion, As though, within the very mother-womb, He’d had the thought to stop a gap therein. No single one I saw gave me the notion He might have had a bent or finger-knack For sandal-cobbling or for garment-stitching, But in each mother’s son I thought I marked That straight upon the Captain’s uttered word He’d spit his very sire without a qualm, --Just what this sprig of mine were ripe to do! The worser else, for soldiering the better.

2. _Insert:_--

If this lad be not true to me, why then His mother was no better toward his father. At least he’ll be so for an eight-days’ space For he knows none here. That’s a point worth while!

[_Exit_ JOAB.

3. _In the MS.:_--

Of pearls we spoke our latest word. But pearls Are white and blood is red. How came I then From white of pearls upon the red of blood? ’Tis naught; the wearing’s sweet, nor long the question Whether the diver, even to arm and leg, Paid a forced reckoning to the snatching polyp. For if his fate be such to go a-seeking And fight therefore the Things o’ the underwaters, ’Tis mine to have them for the necklet-winding And make myself a mark for every arrow Winged by wry hearts and hate--worse lot than his! Who has a head believes him worth a crown, Who has a neck wants pearls as well thereon.

4. _After this line in the MS.:_--

Believe my word, natures there are in life That put deceit, and must, on all whose trusting Is not a wholeheart thing. Not in the testing, Nay, through the testing’s self they topple groundward Being too high therefor, too fine of feel. Woe then to you if you’ve no heart for trusting, Since you--Forgive me! This is the last time.

HEROD.

Farewell.

MARIAMNE.

Farewell. I know you will come back.

5. _Insert:_--

HEROD (_aside_).

I’ll do it--ay and must, though doubly sore It sting me that no more is in my power.

6. _Insert:_--

Ay, and for us as well ’twill serve a turn, Henceforth through all Judaea ’twill be ours To fare at night-time and without our torches. You see the King knows well what he’s about.

7. _The text runs:_--

_Es wär’ genug den Cäsar zu bezahlen_ _Und schätzt er selbst sich ab vorm Tode._

The words seem to mean “The tribute would be enough to pay Caesar if he (Herod) were assessing his own value to save himself from death.” The passage proved too much for me, and I owe this explanation to Mr. Nicholson. I translate:--

It were enough to quit his debt to Caesar Were he himself to rate his worth ’gainst death.

8. _Insert:_--

Herod, if it were mine with one mere word To pluck me from my death, never would I Seek such abjection as that word to utter; If I were strong to tell me that my life, My whole-of-blemish life itself had spoken, Then would I rather die than let misthought Of meaner mould by such a word be stifled. Forget not that!

9. _Insert:_--

That you deny. Now ere the time I know, If death be overhasty on my footsteps, What thing will make me quail in my last hour. I saw, now years agone, a dying man Upon a field of fight, on whom an insect Had crept and stung. One twitch he still could give And straight thereon yielded the final breath. I felt its horror. For his wounds, I scarce Set eyes upon them, but the insect-sting I see even now. And thus ’twill go with me. That sense-repelling, spirit-sickening thing Is my last torture. Take my prepaid thanks!

10. _Insert:_--

If it have weight for me, ’twill lie for me Self-manifest.

11. _Insert:_--

To-night a feast! I’ll shape me to the image That he must bear in heart, deeming it me! He sees me ever dancing, that is clear, E’en when I’m weeping and dissolved in anguish. Dance then I shall!--set on the cymbal’s clashing That at my sight he be not put to blush!

12. _Instead of this speech of_ SOEMUS _the MS. has_:--

Then stood I not before you. Then on me Had fallen his death-hand, as, when he returns, That death-hand will and must soon as it may. That lay and lies i’ the order. Even as I Was but his limb, I had alone ’twixt death And life the simple choice. My bow was forced And forced the hypocriting--have your word. Albeit my inmost soul before him froze.

13. _Insert:_--

SOEMUS.

He hoodwinked me not for a moment’s space. And all the less for this, that Joseph’s death To me was less a riddle than to all Who saw him not upon his latest path. ’Twill shock you to recoil--but there was like Injunction laid on him, and he kept dumb Lest aught should slip his guard. Thus much at least I must believe, for in the very dying He swore he’d naught committed worthy death.

MAR.

I know it all--yes!

SOEMUS.

What?

ALEX.

And gave’t your pardon?

SOEMUS.

And, that despite, extolled him and defended? Then the mere harboured thought upon your hurt Was a more heinous thing than the wrought deed On any woman else!

MAR.

Come to my feast! _etc._

14. _Insert:_--

TITUS.

If so be your physician Gave him assurance that from Africa You brought a fever, then (so ran his words) He’d pardon your misthought, but else----

HEROD.

So speaks he Knowing full well the aftermath, and fain To be her shield before my vengeance. That I understand. And what veneer, _etc._

_The original version ran thus:_--

TITUS.

If so be your physician----

HEROD.

What were his grounds?

TITUS.

The thing you hug so close.

HEROD.

And how was that?

TITUS.

He gave me half-light hints. “You laid on him an outrage passing nature In whose compare to set into a blaze The Temple even, were none.”

HEROD.

And, not content To leave it undischarged, whereby enough Were expiated the most ticklesome Of consciences to mollify, he went Flying to her with my command, and made His bid--no guess you know it--

TITUS.

Naught!

HEROD.

He kept Concealed from you what he laid bare to her? Oh had he changed his rôle about! Nay, never! He must have given to you what stood for him Within her payment. Learn it then from me-- I laid on him--ask me not why--command Whereby he was to kill her if myself Should have no home-return. That thus I did Proves you how deep I trusted him. Believe me I had good ground therefor, and if the iron, Whereof the man is mettled, flagged and flowed, It proves but this, that he was in the fire.

TITUS.

Yes, yes, and yet--’tis not what I’d have done.

HEROD.

Had she but loved me as I her, then were she After my death all out of love with life. What the heart’s out of love with lets a man Begone, nor rues it. No one holds it fast. What was the point to ponder? Had she not Tripped me behind my back, she’d gladly die; Whereas if she did trip me, then were hers A well-earned death for such a double front. Then let the friend of twilight blame my step, The light’s my choice, and now I see full clear, I see what health there is within her heart. Why fret my soul with this and that? why question If, after swearing deathless love to me, In such or such a way she made the breach? Granted that she were pure, granted Soemus Made her his head away--I cannot think it But grant ’twere so--that Joseph did the same, Was it my cue, before her spite’s stiff neck, To sink my own, and like a milksop let her Twist her to sheer negation of her soul? Oh nay, Oh nay! I swear it by the key Of Paradise that she holds in her hands. By all beatitude that she erewhile Has granted me, that she can grant me still, I lash what she became, not what she did. You eye me doubtfully, you think I reach Myself in her. I do it, oh I do it! If it may hap that men can die of wounds They give and not receive, then even now ’Twill come to pass--and yet to my content.

15. _Insert:_--

And this is now the second time. Then hear-- By your stark stubbornness, upon an earth Where all’s in flux, the only rigid thing; By every day of loveliness I lived With you to share, each day that now no more I dare remember; by my future, which Can never bring to me such days again; Yea, by the very shudder which were fain E’en now to choke this oath; this day, this hour I’ll have it out, whether my life is one With life of yours, and if it be that Nature In mock and gibe enknots me with a creature For ever--one to whom I’m naught, who can Avenge her thus, nay stand here as you do! Away! (_To_ THE JUDGES.) You halt? My sentence will no jot Admit retraction! (_Seeing they still hesitate._) Or have I missed the point?

16. _Insert:_--

Since you are not for me nor yet against.

MARIA MAGDALENA

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ANTHONY, _a joiner_.

HIS WIFE.

CLARA, _his Daughter_.

KARL, _his Son_.

LEONARD.

A SECRETARY.

WOLFRAM, _a Merchant_.

ADAM, _a Bailiff_.

SECOND BAILIFF.

BOY.

MAID.

SCENE: A town of moderate size.

MARIA MAGDALENA