SALOME.
 
 SALOME. 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM. 
 
 J. C. HEYWOOD. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 PUBLISHED BY KURD AND HOUGHTON, 
 
 459 BROOME STREET. 
 1867.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by 
 J. C. HEYWOOD, 
 
 in the Clerk s Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 
 New York. 
 
 RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE : 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
 H. 0. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
 
 "I shall therefore speak my mind here at once briefly: That 
 neither did any other city ever suffer such miseries, nor any aye 
 ever breed a generation more fruitful in wickedness than this was, 
 from the beginning of the world." 
 
 FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS.
 
 SALOME. 
 
 A Chamber in Jerusalem. 
 CHORUS OF CHRISTIANS. 
 
 WHAT should it mean ? 
 
 The Dweller in the holy place, 
 The Cherubim between, 
 
 Hath turned away His face. 
 
 How long, O Lord, how long? 
 
 Shall wrath abide forever ? 
 And awful darkness of Thy frow r n, 
 To nether darkness pressing down, 
 
 Be lifted never ? 
 
 O Lord, how long? 
 
 How long, O Lord, how long? 
 
 In mercy wield Thy power. 
 Oh save us with Thine outstretched hand, 
 Keep in its hollow still this band,
 
 8 SALOME. 
 
 Through this dread hour. 
 
 O 
 
 O Lord, how long ? 
 
 Enter SALOME and THONA. 
 
 SALOME. 
 Why tremble ye, my friends ? What terrors 
 
 new 
 
 Have overcome your faith ? He is with you 
 Who said, all-powerful still His to defend, 
 Lo ! I am with you even to the end. 
 
 What ! heard ye not the tale ? 
 
 They whisper it with bated breath, 
 With staring eyes, and visage pale, 
 
 As fearful men appointed unto death. 
 
 Dread harbingers descend, portents appear, 
 But fear not ye, our Guardian is near. 
 
 They came, they came all solemnly and slow, 
 
 From trembling tombs, 
 
 In silent woe, 
 
 The shades of priests long dead, 
 
 And shuddering glooms
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Of midnight grew more dark and dread. 
 
 With noiseless tread, 
 
 In semblances of priestly vestments clad, 
 
 With supplicating look, 
 
 Beseeching, outstretched hands that shook, 
 
 And faces pale and sad, 
 
 They took 
 
 The way unto the Temple s Eastern gate, 
 
 In show of consecrated state. 
 
 While on the hills around, 
 
 The tribes from opening graves, 
 
 From yawning burial caves, 
 
 Without or voice or sound, 
 
 Gathered themselves in hosts, 
 
 Gazing, pallid ghosts. 
 
 The Temple s Eastern gate, 
 
 Whose ponderous weight 
 
 The strength of twenty men can scarce unfold, 
 
 Untouched upon its hinges rolled. 
 
 And, through its port, 
 
 On, on into the inner court, 
 
 The dread procession went, 
 
 With heads low bent. 
 
 From every hill, 
 
 The gathered hosts 
 
 Of ghosts 
 
 Gazed still. 
 
 Then from the Holy Place
 
 10 SALOME. 
 
 About the altar shone a light, 
 
 So bright 
 
 No mortal face 
 
 Coxild stand before it. 
 
 The hosts 
 
 Of gathered ghosts 
 
 Bow and adore it. 
 
 Then o er the Temple came 
 
 Darkness, dread and black. 
 
 Around it myriad forms of flame 
 
 Moved with a fiery track. 
 
 To its unfolding bosom passed the Light, 
 
 And rose from sight 
 
 Into the heavens, which seemed to roll 
 
 In terror backwards on the pole. 
 
 And then was heard, 
 
 Like thunder roaring through the sky, 
 
 A deep and awful cry, 
 
 Speaking this word : 
 
 Come out from her, and be ye separate. 
 
 And, when this voice had cried, 
 
 Out-rolling from the Eastern gate 
 
 Another voice replied, 
 
 A cry, such as, till then, man never heard, 
 
 Speaking this word : 
 
 Let us go hence. 
 
 And thence 
 
 The phantom throng
 
 SALOME. 11 
 
 Turned in flight headlong, 
 
 Rushing to their graves, therein to hide 
 
 From coming terrors they could not abide. 
 
 Thy keeper, Judah, hath abandoned thee, 
 
 And summoned all His faithful ones to flee. 
 
 Yet greater wrath is coming, and to-night 
 
 May overthrow this nation, in His sight 
 
 A barren tree encumbering the ground, 
 
 On which, these many years, naught good is 
 
 found. 
 
 Accursed it falls, the solid earth upheaves 
 With its bent roots, and scatters poisonous leaves. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Wail ! Israel, w r ail ! 
 
 Through all the scattered lands 
 
 Where now ye rove, 
 
 O er burning sands, 
 
 In pestilential grove, 
 
 Or snowy regions pale. 
 
 Wail ! Israel, wail ! 
 
 Not for the unnumbered woes 
 
 Ye suffer there, 
 
 But for the woe that goes 
 
 O 
 
 Into the House of Prayer 
 Where prayers no more avail.
 
 12 SALOME. 
 
 Wail ! Israel, wail ! 
 
 Not that your name is lost, 
 
 Not that, as broken pieces of a wreck are tossed, 
 
 The storms and billows drive you on their way 
 
 To where no day 
 
 Invites a venturous sail. 
 
 Wail ! Israel, wail ! 
 
 Not that the winds of heaven 
 
 Can find you not, nor yet the stars of even ; 
 
 But for Jerusalem bereft of God, 
 
 Her children perishing beneath the rod : 
 
 Wail ! Israel, wail ! 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Yea, well may agonizing Israel say, 
 Alas ! for ivoful Judali, cast away ! 
 Lament ye, too, for us ; pray, lest we faint, 
 By miseries overcome, of doubts attaint. 
 
 Lord, let us suffer still, if it may be 
 Our sufferings only drive us nearer Thee. 
 But if, too strong, they tempt us to complain, 
 Ease, pitying One, somewhat, the tempting pain. 
 So that in patience we may here abide, 
 Until the Bridegroom come to call His bride. 
 
 [Exit CHOKUS.
 
 SALOME. 13 
 
 THONA. 
 
 Fruitless again the search ; nor food, nor wine, 
 Nor aught that healthful palates could endure. 
 And, led forth now by Want, all-conquering, 
 E en from the inner chamber where he sat 
 In ghastly power, grim Famine stalks the streets 
 A skeleton, and holds the citadel. 
 
 Ah ! poor Bernice ! 
 
 On each living thing 
 Hath placed his hand, and shrunk them. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 My poor friend ! 
 
 THONA. 
 
 A grisly throng strays through the courts and 
 
 ways, 
 
 Till all the city seems but an abode 
 Of the accursed dead. 
 
 I know it, Thona. 
 
 Whilst thou hast watched beside Bernice, I 
 Have seen it, and I would have kept thee 
 here
 
 14 SALOME. 
 
 THOXA. 
 
 And gone thyself but that we prayed thee not, 
 Since now fierce persecutions lie in wait 
 To seize upon thee, or to trace thy steps 
 To this our hiding-place ; for thou art known, 
 But here am I unknown. Yet had I found 
 That which I sought, my heart had ne er re 
 sisted 
 
 The woful looks, the fainting, fallen forms, 
 The outstretched hands whose skinny fingers 
 
 spake, 
 
 The thin drawn lips which moved but uttered 
 naught. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Ah ! it is dreadful so to see them die 
 Still unrepentant, helpless, hopeless people ! 
 
 Oh, it is horrible ! my heart is sick. 
 
 For frenzied creatures wander slow in groups, 
 
 And, as the starving wretches stretched their 
 
 hands 
 And glared on me with eyes which seemed 
 
 like fires 
 
 Unnatural, dull burning in dead trunks, 
 While from their open mouths and shrunken 
 
 throats 
 They tried to utter prayers, perchance or curses,
 
 SALOME. 15 
 
 But croaking sounds or hisses issued thence, 
 I shuddered ; terrified, I fled alas ! 
 I could not help them ! and they were so dread ! 
 For they appeared as spectres mocking me, 
 Or who were reaching bony hands to take 
 And tear and slay me ; and with terror faint 
 I neared the door; with horror still am faint 
 Recounting what I saw ; yet what I saAV 
 I dare not well recount ; nor well could I, 
 For voice would fail me, hearing would fail 
 thee. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 What ! worse than thou hast told ? 
 
 The soldiers oh ! 
 
 The zealots and seditious, if perchance 
 Some famished beings find some nauseous thing, 
 Which could be eaten but when senses all 
 Are swallowed by insatiate sense of hunger ; 
 Which to contemplate turns the stomach back 
 Recoiling on itself, ere they can gorge 
 Or hide the loathsome thing the soldiers seize, 
 Swift rushing from their vantage-ground of 
 
 sight, 
 
 And tear it from them, from their very throats 
 They cut they do such things I cannot 
 
 tell.
 
 16 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Something of this I ve heard, something have 
 
 seen. 
 
 The dread Erinnyes of the Grecian stage 
 Are horrors not so terrible as those 
 Which move the personages of this scene. 
 We re of the chorus too. Let us endure 
 With patience, since naught is but by His will. 
 But, love, my thoughts could not go forth with 
 
 thee, 
 
 Nor list thy dreadful tale, for they still heard 
 The words of sweet Bernice. 
 
 What of her ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Thou know st she prayed me to abide with her, 
 For she would fain confess somewhat to me. 
 
 Repentant ever, her unsparing sight 
 
 Sees stains where others see but shadows cast. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 She feared that she had compassed her own 
 
 death, 
 And so were guilty
 
 SALOME. 17 
 
 THOMA. 
 
 She ! of her own death ? 
 
 She thought herself more able to endure 
 The pains of hunger ; and to spare our store 
 She feigned illness that she might not eat. 
 Her soul was stronger than her suffering flesh, 
 Which, overtasked, can bear its pains no more. 
 And, as an o erstrained harp whose breaking 
 
 strings 
 
 Still give forth music, so the silver chords, 
 Of which her life was made, in parting speak 
 The gentle harmony within her soul. 
 Though all unterrified and glad to yield, 
 Yet, seeing Death now entering her gates, 
 She fears she sinfully hath opened them 
 And been a traitress to the Lord of life. 
 Thus she, for comfort, would confess to me, 
 That I might aid her, were it not too late, 
 Against the welcome conqueror to stand, 
 And help her to repentance and forgiveness, 
 Till Duty, yielding not, but overcome, 
 Should render her a prisoner, and so free her. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 Her own sweet nature ! thinking but for others ; 
 
 2
 
 18 SALOME. 
 
 From those she loves withholding naught, if so 
 She can but make them happy, or relieve them. 
 
 Like one a captive, ta en in toils of war, 
 She yearns, calm in endurance, to be rescued. 
 She longs so to be free from what she calls 
 Her prison-house stained with impurities, 
 The beautiful abode in which hath dwelt 
 Her ever-patient spirit. She would be saved 
 From the corruptions which thence creep upon 
 Her soul ; from the temptations therein coiled 
 To spring on it and make a cureless wound ; 
 As serpents in the beauteous palaces, 
 And things malign and deadly lie concealed 
 In those fair countries where the genial warmth 
 But warms such noxious creatures into life. 
 And so she fears t was not all self-denial 
 Which bade her suffer for us 
 
 Noble woman ! 
 
 But that her selfishness hath stolen the robes, 
 As Selfishness oft doth, of Generousness, 
 And, so disguised, hath led her far astray.
 
 SALOME. 19 
 
 THONA. 
 
 Let us go to her. 
 
 She is sleeping now. 
 
 We will not wake her. Should she never wake 
 
 It were a mercy ; pray that it be so. 
 
 For, waking, she must see, as must we now, 
 
 Death coming to us in so dread a form 
 
 As might appall her loving, patient spirit. 
 
 Remember, dear, however dark the valley, 
 Howe er beset with horrors and with snares, 
 He leadeth us. So we are safe alike 
 Where Famine crawleth ; where pale Pestilence 
 In gardens lurketh ; where death-driven War 
 Flings conflagrations from his flaming feet ; 
 Upon the ocean in the beaten vessel, 
 Or on the solid mountain s barren rocks ; 
 In winter s tempest, or in summer s calm ; 
 In burning deserts, or in dewy vales, 
 If Christ s love point the way and order us. 
 Let s trust in Him, and gladly, as He will, 
 And when He will, receive His messenger, 
 Whether he come with dreadful harbingers, 
 The forms of violence in ghastly ranks,
 
 20 SALOME. 
 
 The pallid, drooping banners of Disease, 
 Or mournful legion of the Spirit s woes, 
 To herald his approach ; or softly come, 
 Unheralded, eluding every guard, 
 And hastening to the secret halls of life 
 In silence, even to the master s couch. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 Aud couldst thou comfort her ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 I did, at length. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 And then she fell asleep. 
 
 Nay, begged us now 
 To leave her here, and try again to escape. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 That must we not do. 
 
 We must comfort her 
 As best we can until the Comforter 
 Shall lead her to His peaceful dwelling-place. 
 Then will we seek again a way to flee 
 Unto the mountains, and obey Christ s word.
 
 SALOME. , 
 
 The Romans hold Antonia, we 11 strive 
 Us to surrender to them unperceived 
 By any of the Jews, and Sextus then, 
 
 THONA. 
 
 Or Lepidus, mine own dear Lepidus, 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Who now, they say, hath brought his legion 
 
 here, 
 Shall give us escort safe to some asylum. 
 
 Enter CHORUS. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Oh the cry ! the cry 
 
 Upon the city wall! 
 
 So might a demon call 
 
 To earth and sky, 
 
 To tell the last doom nigh 
 
 O 
 
 And worlds appall. 
 
 They saw it while so crying, 
 
 In form an old man horribly elate. 
 
 Like some huge pine on whose bent boughs 
 
 the weight 
 Of snows is lying 
 
 / O 
 
 It stood ; upon its breast and shoulders wide 
 Long hair and beard rolled in a snowy tide. 
 Of giant mould
 
 22 SALOME. 
 
 The lofty shape, unarmed, 
 
 As some firm fortress bold, 
 
 Received the storm unharmed, 
 
 Of missiles from the cloud-like ranks 
 
 Of soldiers and of engines on the banks. 
 
 Nor could they tell, 
 
 As round him harmless arrows fell, 
 
 If that which breast and limbs defended 
 
 Were sable wings, or robes by winds distended. 
 
 And when it cried, 
 
 From every mountain side 
 
 A mocking voice replied, 
 
 Whose jeering echoes died 
 
 List ! now it crieth Oh ! 
 
 VOICE. 
 
 Woe to the city! Woe!
 
 A Grove near Ccesar s Pavilion in the Roman Camp 
 before Jerusalem. 
 
 LEPIDUS and FKIGIUS. 
 
 * I;IGIUS. 
 
 AH me ! another tale of misery ! 
 I thought thee happy, man. It now appears 
 Thou hast a plundered and a ravaged heart. 
 Love is a traitor, opening the gate 
 To admit the stealthy foe Experience, 
 Who crusheth every flower and verdant shrub, 
 Exhausts the dews, and poisons every fount, 
 O ercometh Ignorance surprised, and then 
 Destroys his cherished treasure, happiness. 
 Why hast thou never spoke of this to me ? 
 
 Because I ne er could trust to tell-tale words 
 The hoarded faith given unto me by her. 
 Nor can I prize the man who ever bears 
 His mistress s heart displayed upon his breast, 
 Not locked within ; who hides not, as a miser 
 His precious things, the priceless proofs of love 
 In strongest vaults most inaccessible 
 Of his profoundest heart.
 
 24 SALOME. 
 
 FBIGIUS. 
 
 Well said. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 But now, 
 
 Since, haply, in some storming enterprise 
 Thou shalt to Victory climb, and leave thy friend 
 One of the many whose strong trunks o er- 
 
 thrown 
 Shall bridge the chasm for our swift-charging 
 
 hosts, 
 
 I would intrust thee with the precious casket 
 Where images of our true loves are shrined. 
 I saw her first in Germany, and 
 
 When? 
 
 When I went thither on an embassy. 
 T is now some five years 
 
 Love hath lived five years ! 
 He must be feeble now, and in his dotage, 
 And cannot tell his own from other loves. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 If e er I m king, I 11 have thee for my jester.
 
 SALOME. 25 
 
 FKIGIUS. 
 
 To learn the truth through jests. 
 
 But jest not now. 
 
 "T was at that tender season when the Sun 
 Lies wooing in the alluring lap of Earth, 
 The while his steeds stand still, with many a kiss 
 Saluting her fair cheeks 
 
 Oil, wicked sun ! 
 
 Then his contagious fever taints men s hearts ; 
 His warm breath melts the humors, renders them 
 Combustible, does t not ? So that the light 
 Shot from an ambushed eye, or briefest contact 
 Of glowing hands, can set them all aflame, 
 And their hot conflagration is called love ? 
 
 Mayst thou be burned by it till the dull dross 
 
 Obscuring thy fine nature be consumed. 
 
 [ saw her then, and from her eyes there fell 
 
 A dear enchantment on me, and soft clouds, 
 
 As they were winged beings sent from heaven, 
 
 Upbore me from the world where I had dwelt 
 
 To an enchanted lover s paradise, 
 
 While Love, before, with gentle dances moved.
 
 26 SALOME. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 I fain would learn what such a place may be. 
 
 Then must I tell thee ; there thou wilt not go. 
 With Love alone, as guide, the course is made, 
 And thou wouldst bind Love s wings and keep 
 
 him chained, 
 
 The merest slave and drudge of merest sense. 
 A garden t is, whose climate generous 
 Is tempered with mild incense-burning fires. 
 Its light is mellow, such as were this world s 
 If, as he near the end of his bright course, 
 The sun were stayed by fascinations of 
 Some soft-eyed evening in the blushing spring 
 time, 
 
 Till, so delaying, Jupiter in wrath 
 Should bar him in an alabaster tower, 
 Builded on mountains inaccessible 
 Of craggy clouds upon the western verge, 
 That, then, should seem a fount of pearly light. 
 Its breezes sweet 
 
 What ! breezes there, and squalls, 
 And gales, and brooding storms, and sudden 
 tempests ?
 
 SALOME. 27 
 
 Its breezes sweet the richest perfumes bear 
 From flowers sweet scented and from fruits 
 
 exhaled, 
 
 Commingling with the odors ravishing 
 Which verdant April places on the robes 
 Of odor-loving, love-inspiring Spring. 
 
 It must be like the shops where drugs are sold. 
 
 Its balmy air a mystic compound is 
 Of sweets ethereal with magic powers, 
 Which plants fresh-blooming roses on the cheek, 
 And keeps them nurtured there ; in dew em 
 balms 
 
 And guards unwithered there the modest blush, 
 And kindles in the eye undying light 
 Of warm affection, fans upon the lips 
 The constant glow of sweet sincerity. 
 Each blemish changes to perfection rich, 
 To comeliness every deformity. 
 
 A place for maimed, and halt, and blind, and 
 
 weak. 
 The sick should go there as to healing baths.
 
 28 SALOME. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Its music is the nightingale s sweet song 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 A mournful note. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 But very dear to lovers, 
 Young children s voices heard in joyous sports, 
 And sighing tones of that most skilled musician, 
 The South-wind harping on the sounding vines. 
 
 A dreadful, sense-destroying monotone. 
 Where is this garden ? 
 
 It is where Love dwells, 
 A deity which worketh miracles. 
 Who from the ocean of Eternity 
 Doth in an instant blot the island Time, 
 And leaveth lovers on a raft of dreams, 
 To float upon the ever-blissful waves 
 Which gently toss, but beat upon no shore. 
 
 I think that I should like the hard earth better. 
 But who is the high priestess of this god
 
 SALOME. 20 
 
 That so dissolves the islands and o erthrows 
 The natural order of the universe 
 
 Nay, t is the natural order he restores. 
 
 And makes the senses but so many mirrors 
 In which Imagination sees herself? 
 
 A captive, with a beauteous company 
 Of virgins in the German fastnesses 
 Discovered, who spoke our Latin tongue 
 Somewhat, but brokenly ; her gentle voice 
 By our hard letters hindered, as the breeze 
 By wires obstructed of the soft wind-harp, 
 Made sweetest music. 
 
 FBIGIUS. 
 
 Pray, what was her age ? 
 
 Love counts not years ; he cannot calculate, 
 Nor knows the force of figures. She was young, 
 Midway twixt morn and noon. 
 
 FRIG1U8. 
 
 And was she fair ?
 
 30 SALOME. 
 
 Nor tall nor short ; her dear proportions each 
 By manifest perfection would engage 
 The rest to emulation. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 What her hair ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Such threads as rays are woven of above 
 The setting sun. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Her face ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 A flowery region 
 
 Within the temperate zone, whose gentle mists 
 Ne er harbored storms, but with their shadows 
 
 made 
 A winning change, where else it were too bright. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Her eyes? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Were beds of violets which grew 
 Where Twilight seemed to dwell. 
 
 FKIGIUS. 
 
 Her voice? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 The music
 
 SALOME. 31 
 
 Which chords of sympathy attuned by love 
 Reply to. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Was she graceful ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Yea, as brooklets. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Thou art love-blind. So every lover views 
 His love. Gods ! what a compound ! Sun s 
 
 rays, mists, 
 
 Brooks, violets, and shadows, soft wind-harps, 
 And flowery regions, music and what else ? 
 I would as lief embrace this earthy orb 
 And call it sweet-heart 
 
 Faith ! I think thou wouldst. 
 I doubt if thou couldst find aught else to love 
 So well as this same world. 
 
 Nay, be not hard. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 I will not, if thou wilt but curb thy wit. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 And the companions of this paragon.
 
 32 SALOME. 
 
 I kjiew but two. One was a Roman girl, 
 A princess born, who had in Britain been 
 A captive ; and escaping thence, by chance, 
 With her I loved, a British princess too, 
 A dniid s daughter, fell into the power 
 Of these rapacious Germans. 
 
 What of her? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Young was she, yet not young ; old, yet not old. 
 She had the dignity of two score years, 
 The grace of one. She had the hopeful look 
 Of youth, the unhopeful, patient look of age. 
 There was such contradiction writ on her 
 As spelled a mystery not well divined. 
 
 And was she lovely too? 
 
 As is a tree 
 
 Which blushes with delicious unplucked fruits, 
 While yet green leaves and blossoms deck its 
 
 boughs. 
 More queen than woman, goddess more than 
 
 queen, 
 And yet than woman still more womanly.
 
 SALOME. 33 
 
 FKIGICS. 
 
 What ! didst thou love her too ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 I reverenced her. 
 
 FEIGIUS. 
 
 Who was the other ? 
 
 She was Jewess born, 
 
 Who had in Britain been, I know not how, 
 Nor why, nor how long time, and thence es 
 caped 
 
 With these when Plautius took the Isle of Mona, 
 And so chastised the druids. 
 
 Tell her praise, 
 
 Unless thy Wordy fancy hath grown tired. 
 Was she the porter of that Paradise, 
 Its evening star, its ever-changing moon, 
 Its Hebe, or its messenger, like Iris ? 
 
 Full beautiful she was, but very sad, 
 Like autumn days, ere autumn yet is old, 
 Which seem in sweet remembrance still to keep 
 The smiling, hopeful summer, and to mourn 
 
 3
 
 34 SALOME. 
 
 Its end. She chiefly loved to be alone. 
 If with these two, whene er she saw me come 
 She would withdraw in silence. Mourning garb 
 Decked her fair form. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 And didst thou reverence her ? 
 Or worship her ? Or love ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 I pitied her. 
 
 FKIGIUS. 
 
 What was her sorrow? 
 
 UEFIDUS. 
 
 That they told me not, 
 
 But said that she bore wounds from many sor 
 rows. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Thou, doubtless, rescued st them, and won thy 
 
 love, 
 And wearied of her. 
 
 Nay, my plan was knit 
 
 And ready, when plot-aiding Slumber should 
 Its soft nets tighten round the heavy limbs 
 Of their custodians and hold them fast.
 
 SALOME. 35 
 
 Ere silent Night, the dark handmaid of Slumber, 
 Distilled sleep-giving dews upon the world 
 And spread those same soft nets, a treacherous 
 
 horde 
 
 Of sly barbarians surprised our camp, 
 And made me prisoner, it is with shame 
 I tell it. When, by stratagem and strength, 
 I had escaped, I could not hear of them. 
 And all my search found naught but disappoint 
 ments. 
 
 Forced to return to Rome, I thence was sent, 
 Under Vespasian, to the Eastern wars, 
 And know no more of them. In vain I sought 
 The aid of States and interest of power. 
 I had but promises. 
 
 FKIGIUS. 
 
 What were their names ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 My dear love s name was Thona ; and her 
 
 friend s, 
 
 Salome, daughter of Herodias 
 The beautiful and bad. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 What! that Salome? 
 Most beautiful was she.
 
 36 SALOME. 
 
 Her father was 
 
 That brave Antonius who went to Britain 
 With Plautius, there found his long-lost child, 
 And fell defending her. The other was 
 Bernice called. 
 
 I saw Salome once. 
 If thou hadst loved her, I had thought thee 
 
 wise. 
 
 Her history, they say, is very strange. 
 Was she still beautiful ? How had she fared ? 
 Still entertained she health like a good host? 
 Ruled cheerfulness or sadness in her heart? 
 How looked she ? Smilingly ? Or pale, or 
 
 ruddy ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Salome, then, was calm, nor gay, nor sad. 
 The lilies of her neck and brow and chin 
 Could not o ercome the roses fast entrenched 
 Upon the tranquil summit of each cheek. 
 Upon her brow the godlike majesty 
 Of thought serenely sat. Beneficence, 
 With light benignant, circled her fair head. 
 And melancholy, were it there at all, 
 Was like a hound in godlike presence crouched. 
 
 Enter an OFFICER.
 
 SALOME. 37 
 
 The general is returned and calls for thee 
 In haste, Lord Lepidus. 
 
 Any mischance ? 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 I know not what. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 I 11 come to thee again. 
 
 [Exit LEPIDUS. 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 The general, Titus, to Antonia 
 
 This morning went with Sextus, to observe 
 
 The operations of the siege, and watch 
 
 The sallies and attacks of skirmishers. 
 
 And now he is returned in haste ? Alone ? 
 
 Alone, my Lord, but not in haste. He came 
 But slowly ; sad his port, and on his face 
 Disheveled grief lay abject. 
 
 Canst thou guess 
 The cause ?
 
 38 SALOME. 
 
 He went with Sextus ; back he came 
 Alone, and, much distempered, in his tent 
 Sank on a chair, as if his strength of soul 
 Were crushed by burdens insupportable. 
 Unmoving, there he sits with drooping arms 
 And head upon his bosom, while his eyes 
 Are fixed on things unseen, as one whose spirit 
 Had left its saddened tenement to go 
 Some sad excursion to a distant sphere. 
 
 To learn what s happened I will go about. 
 If t be ill luck it soon will be found out.
 
 Caesar s Pavilion. 
 TITUS and LEPIDUS. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 How I have pitied them and gently used 
 Thou knowest ; now my vengeance shall have 
 
 scope. 
 
 Ah ! he was one most loving and most brave, 
 In whom the best of all that s best in man 
 With godlike parts, strove for the mastery. 
 A friend most true, a most wise counselor, 
 Whom hope of favor, of disfavor fear 
 Could change not ; for his course was steered 
 
 by Truth. 
 
 And all his actions, like well-ordered ships 
 Moving resistless under one control 
 To victory, bore its fair colors ever. 
 He was most dear to me, as one who held 
 A truthful mirror to my acts and plans, 
 And not a portrait limned by Flattery, 
 To show the semblance but of what was fair. 
 O Sextus, Sextus, thou shalt be avenged. 
 
 How did he fall ?
 
 40 SALOME. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 That he was rash is true, 
 Or certain holy fury pressed him on. 
 As by Antonia s Tower we stood, to take 
 Observance of the works and conflict sharp 
 Between advance guards of our troops and those 
 Of these most stubborn Jews, at once appeared, 
 Among the Hebrew forces, one, unarmed, 
 On whose hard muscles Famine s rasping teeth 
 Had left no trace. His lofty form above 
 The striving foemen showed a drifted beard, 
 Resting like snows upon an Alpine breast. 
 Brightly above it, as two evil stars, 
 His eyes burned in the dark night of his face. 
 Nor spear, nor sword-thrust harmed him ; on 
 
 he came. 
 The Jews stood back in awe ; the Romans 
 
 paused. 
 
 Ere I could beckon Sextus to my side, 
 For wonder and a fearful admiration 
 Had held me motionless, like some foul spell, 
 The apparition, in a voice which seemed 
 From some great distance moving, called on 
 
 him : 
 
 Ho ! Sextus, ho ! Ha, "ha ! Knoiv st thou me not? 
 Who won the game in Britain ? Ho, my Sextus ! 
 Then leaped forth Sextus with a vengeful cry, 
 Such as a god might give, who, searching worlds
 
 SALOME. 41 
 
 At length beholds his foe ; and sword in hand, 
 Rushed on the taunting monster. Then arose 
 A cheering shout from all the Roman host. 
 The Jews gave way, while his still mocking foe 
 Retreating, on decoyed him, till at length, 
 Far in advance of succor, on the stones 
 Which pave the Temple court, now covered 
 
 o er 
 
 And slippery with blood, at once assailed 
 Upon all sides by the returning Jews, 
 He slipped and fell, his armor crashing loud, 
 As when a cliff falls from the mountain side. 
 He vainly strove to rise, o erladen now 
 By mounting enemies who smote him sore, 
 And falling foes his fatal sword o erthrew, 
 And heaped upon him while himself o erthrown. 
 
 Could no one help him? 
 
 As a beaten ship 
 
 Attacked on all sides by the gnarling waves, 
 When treacherous footing underneath it fails, 
 Goes down and disappears in sight of those 
 Who, powerless, stand upon the high-walled 
 
 shore, 
 So sank he, and his friends could give no aid.
 
 42 SALOME. 
 
 Oh sad mischance ! Oh loss beyond compare ! 
 The Jews have triumphed thus in our defeat. 
 Yet died he gloriously as he had lived. 
 Now in Elysium his spirit walks, 
 And finds content and joy ; for I have heard 
 That in his youth he loved as strong men 
 
 love, 
 
 And that the frosts of chilling disappointment 
 Turned all that summer time of blooming hope 
 To wintry hopelessness ; but that his soul 
 Was great enough to master all its ills 
 And hold them subject. 
 
 I know all his story. 
 
 From him gushed out the noblest blood of Rome, 
 And sped the noblest spirit. Pure in honor, 
 Dishonor was to him a foreign thing, 
 Of which he heard, but could conceive it not 
 Till seen. He was a treasure-house of Justice, 
 A casket where the gods kept manliness. 
 
 CHORUS without : Roman Soldiers marching to the trenches. 
 
 In the tent, or in the trenches, 
 Grappling foes or captive wenches, 
 Where the lance is fiercely gleaming, 
 Where soft eyes are mildly beaming,
 
 SALOME. 43 
 
 Live we, pets of love and glory, 
 Still, when slain, to live in story. 
 
 Then joy to the soldier ! A merry short life ! 
 And luck without care in the. game where he 
 
 plays, 
 For he s only the piece that is moved in the 
 
 strife, 
 
 While Destiny silently counts out his days, 
 Who alike maketh heroes, and marshaleth gods, 
 Wooes dearly in Venus, in Jupiter nods.
 
 A Chamber in Jerusalem. 
 MA RAH. 
 
 MAEAH. 
 
 ACCURSED ! O God, was there no hope for 
 
 me 
 
 But to find credit still awhile with Death, 
 That he should not foreclose this tenement, 
 And drive my soul to wander in the storms 
 Of Erebus unsheltered, that I did 
 This most unnatural, doubly damning deed? 
 O God my thoughts rise not. I cannot pray. 
 The weight of crime oppresseth me to hell, 
 And thence I cannot lift myself O God ! 
 God cannot hear me, for His ears are full 
 Of my child s cries. Oh dread ! Oh murdering 
 
 thought ! 
 
 Oh torturing sense ! Oh fatal memory ! 
 Why strive to live ? Gehenna cannot hold 
 Fires hotter than this burning consciousness 
 Of ill deserts, for which hell keeps no place. 
 O God, upon me lay in wrath Thy finger, 
 And blot me out. The devils would shrink from 
 And leave me solitary. But why live ?
 
 SALOME. 45 
 
 For in the dread uncertainties of death 
 There s naught so insupportable as life. 
 There s no more memory, so no more curse. 
 Here is its curse threefold : I cannot be 
 Perea s gentle, sweetly smiling beauty ; 
 Yet memory saith I am. It is no dream, 
 I loathe the feeble thing I was, I hate 
 And shudder at the loathsome thing I am, 
 And curse my loathing, hating, shuddering 
 
 self. 
 Through memory threefold, I m threefold 
 
 cursed. 
 
 Avenging conscience, hear st thou no excuse? 
 Despair for him and me, frenetic pain 
 
 JEWISH WOMEN, IffitflOUt. 
 
 Ah! Oh! Alas! 
 Come final woes ! 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 For anguish forced me, it was not mine act ; 
 My soul, benumbed, consented not unto it. 
 
 JEWISH WOMEN, without. 
 
 Ah ! Oh ! Alas ! 
 Come fatal terror. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 Sore hunger was upon me, yea, it held 
 Affection motionless in its hard gripe.
 
 46 SALOME. 
 
 JEWISH WOMEN Without. 
 
 Ah ! Oh ! Alas ! 
 
 Destroy, and save us from these ravening foes ! 
 
 MABAII. 
 
 No food ! was dying ! each day robbed and tor 
 tured 
 Till all was gone, and patience, and endurance. 
 
 JEWISH WOMEN, Without. 
 
 Ah ! Oh ! Alas ! 
 
 Consume, and save us from this racking horror. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 One cry, mamma; one sigh, one look at me, 
 And so his life rushed into my red hand. 
 
 JEWISH WOMEN, Without. 
 
 Accursed, ye fathers I mothers doubly cursed ! 
 Blessed barren wombs, and breasts that never 
 nursed ! 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 Thoughts, thoughts, ye stand devouring flames 
 
 before me. 
 
 Ye burn my brain, ye gnaw my heart away. 
 Help ! fiends leer horribly my bleeding child ! 
 Help ! help I I die ! Not dead not yet in hell ? 
 Oh here is woe, woe that should break its bars.
 
 SALOME. 47 
 
 O ribs of steel, give way ; O iron heart, 
 Yield up the secret crimes entombed in thee. 
 Let every sin assvime a devil s form 
 To jeer, and mock, and torture ; range your 
 selves, 
 
 Begin your damned work. Oh help ! Oh help ! 
 Still, still in life ? O Death, why tarriest thou ? 
 My loathing vitals, with convulsive throes 
 Repel what once they bore so dearly ; O God, 
 His sweetness on my palate turns to gall 
 And poison, scalding fires and lingering death. 
 Oh horrid, horrid feast ! Oh unheard woe ! 
 Oh last calamity of my lost people. 
 
 Enter SIMON, with Soldiers. 
 
 Now, woman, thou hast food; thou feastest. 
 The smell of it hath called us. Bring it forth. 
 
 SOLDIERS. 
 
 Ay, give us food. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 Know st thou me, Simon ? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Nav. 
 
 * 
 MARAH. 
 
 Thy scent is better than thy memory. 
 
 Thou smellest out thine own, by thee forgotten.
 
 48 SALOME. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Cease prating. Bring the meat. 
 
 MA RAH. 
 
 Thou know st the lambs 
 
 Grown in Perea are good ; thou st been there, 
 Simon. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Perea ? What talk st thou of Perea ? 
 
 Flesh I flesh ! 
 
 MAEAH. 
 
 I had a lamb, brought with me from Perea. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Let s have it. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 I had kept it for thee, Simon. 
 I loved it as a mother loves her child. 
 To-day I could no longer fast ; alone 
 I killed, cooked, ate it, Simon, half of it. 
 John s soldiers would not take the rest away. 
 The scent hath brought thee, dost thou know 
 me, Simon? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 I .tell thee, nay.
 
 SALOME. 49 
 
 SOLDIEKS. 
 
 The food ! the food ! Bring quick 
 
 The torture. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Silence ! 
 
 Patience, good my masters. 
 In sweet Perea lived a maid with peace. 
 Thou earnest, Simon. When thou wentest 
 
 thence 
 
 Was sweet Perea bitter ; peace had fled. 
 Abandoned was the maiden, and with her 
 A living innocent, accursed, to curse her 
 With thy resemblance dost thou know me, 
 
 Simon ? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 What ! Marah ! No. 
 
 SOLDIERS. 
 
 Flesh ! flesh ! bring forth the flesh ! 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 The flesh is my child, Simon mine and thine. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 My child !
 
 50 SALOME. 
 
 SOLDIERS. 
 
 Oh horror ! 
 
 Stay awhile nay, stay. 
 Forget not thus your courtesy, my masters. 
 Ye start somewhat too quickly, stay awhile. 
 Have ye no word to say ? Are ye afraid ? 
 Slink ye in silence hence ? Curs, fools, begone ! 
 Cowards and thieves but I 11 go with thee, 
 Simon. 
 
 [Exeunt SOLDIEES. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Nay, thou shalt not. 
 
 I will, I 11 quit thee not. 
 Oh let me go with thee, or stay with me. 
 I dare not be alone. The air is full 
 Of shadowy forms : young children bleeding, 
 
 ghastly, 
 
 And changing into leering demons ; faces 
 All shapeless, growing ever still more shapeless, 
 And still more hideous, more mocking still, 
 And ever more and more like my poor child. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 O Marah, Marah, hath it come to this ?
 
 SALOME. 51 
 
 MABAH. 
 
 Oh leave me not. What hast thou clone for me ? 
 In that dread hour when our first mother s curse 
 Was doubly on me for I, too, had eaten 
 Forbidden fruit with thee, and so had added 
 The primal curse to itself inherited 
 Thou Avert not there, thou did st not comfort me. 
 In that great agony I was alone 
 With strangers, and, instead of thee, Shame 
 
 stood 
 
 By me, with downcast eyes and face averted, 
 Her heavy finger pointing straight into 
 My soul, and hissed : I have so suffered, 
 
 Simon ! 
 
 Oh hide me from myself, and veil for me 
 With Death s dark robe the mirror of the past. 
 Distract me, Simon, with old vows of love. 
 They made me then forget all things but thee ; 
 They may make me forget my misery. 
 
 Thou art beside thyself. Hence, horror, hence ! 
 Oh thou she-Moloch, child-bane, living grave ! 
 
 Here are the ruins of my bosom, Simon, 
 Which once thou thought st so fair ; two palaces, 
 Whose ivory domes, in thine affection glowing,
 
 52 SALOME. 
 
 Sheltered a woman s living faith and love. 
 Faith was destroyed, and love hath pined away, 
 And so the palaces have gone to wreck. 
 But let thy dagger break an entrance there, 
 Thou It find a heart still beating warm for thee 
 Beneath the sunken roofs ; ay, Simon, let 
 Thy dagger enter there, and force the way 
 For Death. I dare not do it ; when I tried 
 Mine arm refused ; its strength, alas ! was gone. 
 
 Take thy hands off me, snake, child-eater, swine ! 
 I tell thee, girl, unhand me. 
 
 Stay with me 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Cease, hold me not, or I shall harm thee : hence ! 
 I loathe thee from my soul, thou traitoress. 
 Thau did st betray me when I trusted thee, 
 And to thine oaths of love wert ever false. 
 
 Oh never, Simon, ne er, so help me Heaven, 
 If Heaven vouchsafe to help me so undone, 
 Did e er a thought unworthy of thy love 
 Approach my heart. Thou did st not love me, 
 Simon.
 
 SALOME. 53 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Thou liest, girl. I loved thee as my life. 
 I clung to thee as the strong body clings 
 With all its nervous fibres to the soul, 
 And let thee go with as great agony. 
 I loved thee, girl : thou know st not what I 
 
 mean, 
 How can st thou know ? thou so hast never 
 
 loved. 
 
 I know not by what words to make thee ffeel 
 How thou wert of me, in me, over me, 
 Myself uplifted, my perfected self. 
 
 Oh thou could st reckon not my love ; but count 
 The drops of water in the sea which flows 
 With no receding tide, compute its mass. 
 Then can my love be measured ; such it was. 
 
 Oh thou most fair outside, thou beauteous arbor 
 Whereon, each night, the vines and fruits of 
 
 beauty 
 
 Hung in seductive sweetness, swaying soft, 
 With graceful undulations, in the breeze 
 Of tender passion ; on which every morn 
 In fragrant afflorescence they appeared, 
 Me waking from soft slumbers with their bloom,
 
 54 SALOME. 
 
 So that each day my spring and harvest was, 
 My foil year without winter. Oh, I m sick 
 In thinking on t ! They turned to poison when 
 I found another lurking in thy heart, 
 And thou wert proved unfaithful 
 
 Never, Simon 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Remembrance of them burns deep in my soul, 
 Destroying there the springs of life and hope. 
 Oh may each kiss I ve placed upon thy lips, 
 As doves upon an incense-burning altar, 
 Be turned to scorpions, not on thy lips, 
 But stinging on forever at thy heart. 
 
 O Simon, think on all my wretchedness, 
 And curse me not in this most dreadful hour. 
 
 Enter an OFFICER. 
 
 How now ! how now ? Hast thou then found 
 
 the place 
 Where they conceal themselves ? What is thy 
 
 news ? 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 My Lord
 
 SALOME. 55 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Speak out. 
 
 I Ve sought them everywhere. 
 Once and again have looked the palace through 
 In which they had been seen, but found them 
 not. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Away and search again, look to thyself. 
 For if thou bring not presently report 
 Of where, and how, by whom she is concealed, 
 Thy miserable limbs in morsels torn 
 
 I 11 do my best, my Lord. 
 
 Thy best ! What s that ? 
 Say thou wilt do it, wilt find her : I must have 
 
 her. 
 Go, go, and fail not. I must have Salome. 
 
 [Exit OFFICER. 
 
 MAKAH. 
 
 Salome ? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Well? 
 
 MAKAH. 
 
 What wouldest thou with her ?
 
 56 SALOME. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 What s that to thee ? Or, if thou It lend me 
 
 aid, 
 
 For well I know thy strength of craftiness, 
 I 11 tell thee all, and, if success greet us, 
 Thou shalt be rich, a princess 
 
 MAEAH. 
 
 Shall I, truly? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Kaliphilus, whom many now believe 
 One of the prophets risen from the dead, 
 Revealed to me that, somewhere, in the city 
 Salome, with a band of Christians, lurks. 
 That she the Jonah is whose presence here 
 Brings these disasters on the ship of state, 
 Pours all these curses on us, helps the Romans, 
 Turns our own arms against ourselves, and 
 
 makes 
 Our contest hopeless 
 
 MAEAH. 
 
 He hath told thee this? 
 
 And said that if she should be put to death, 
 He who should bring to pass the pious work 
 Should bear a crown.
 
 SALOME. O I 
 
 MAKAH. 
 
 And thou would st win that honor? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 In faith, would I. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 I warn thee, Simon, lay 
 Not e en a finger on that holy being. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Why, how now, mistress ? Shall I ask thy leave 
 To do my pleasure ? Art thou jealous, Ma- 
 
 rah? 
 
 A plague upon thee. Go thy ways ; begone ! 
 And prate no more to me. What s she to 
 
 thee ? 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 She sought to draw the poison from my soul, 
 To cure it, and to feed my famished body. 
 She brought God s message to a stubborn con 
 science, 
 But to a grateful heart 
 
 Go, stand aside ! 
 
 Thou art mad, nay, stand not in my path 
 way ; go. 
 My spies are now upon Salome s track
 
 58 SALOME. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 O Simon, nast thou not yet sinned enough ? 
 Dar st turn and look upon tlie crowding crimes 
 Which follow thee like devils till the hour 
 When they shall fall upon, and drag thee down 
 To punishment, and night, and burning tortures, 
 Repentance hopeless, and remorse eternal ? 
 Oh add not to their number this so great. 
 Oh spare Salome ; nay, protect her too, 
 And it shall be remembered for thy good. 
 
 I tell thee, girl, Kaliphilus hath said 
 That, whether judged by Christian or by Jew, 
 Salome should by either be condemned : 
 By Christian, for she murdered John the Bap 
 tist; 
 
 By Jew, for she s a Christian and blasphem- 
 eth. 
 
 Enter KALIPHILUS. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 I care not what Kaliphilus may say. 
 
 I know him not; he is some plotting knave. 
 
 I 11 tell her of her peril, find a ah ! 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 God s curse upon thee, woman, if thou help her. 
 A leprosy consume thy false outside,
 
 SALOME. 59 
 
 And turn thy walls to chalk; gaunt Famine 
 
 gnaw 
 
 Forever on with unrelenting teeth, 
 And suck the marrow from thy shrunken bones ; 
 Thirst build its fires upon thy swollen tongue, 
 And keep them burning never to be quenched ; 
 Hot fevers dry the sluiceways of thy body, 
 And leave them gaping ; dread Delirium hold 
 Thy crimes in full deformity, like fiends, 
 To thine appalled gaze ; Remorse in frenzy 
 Pursue thee, shrieking; be thy soul on fire, 
 And every nerve an instrument of torture ; 
 Despair pull at thy heart-strings toward the 
 
 gulf, 
 
 And all her furies haunt thee w T hile thou wakest ; 
 Let Hell surround and press upon thee sleeping, 
 And Death avoid thee, howsoe er besought : 
 Such be thy doom if thou shalt dare to aid 
 One upon whom God s curse hath once been 
 
 laid, 
 
 Or if thou aid not, so as best thou can 
 To punish one who lies beneath His ban. 
 
 [Exit KALIPHILUS. 
 SIMON. 
 Well may st thou tremble, girl. 
 
 MAKAH. 
 
 Oh ! I am faint !
 
 60 SALOME. 
 
 What shall I do? O Simon, leave me not. 
 Who was that dreadful being? Whence came 
 he? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 He was Kaliphilus, who having learned 
 That I was here, from some one, hither came 
 To seek me, doubtless ; or his wondrous power 
 Informed him where I was, and what I would, 
 And so he came 
 
 Oh go not with him, Simon. 
 But stay a little with me, stay a little. 
 He is no angel, nay, nay, trust him not. 
 
 If I by staying win thee to make known 
 Salome s hiding-place, I then will own 
 The time well spent. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 Am I, then, naught to thee ? 
 
 For what I ve done wilt thou do naught for 
 me ? 
 
 As I have helped thee sinning, come with 
 in, 
 
 Oh now so let me help thee not to sin.
 
 A Tent near Caesar s Pavilion. 
 LEPIDUS, FKIGIUS, and other OFFICEP. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 THIS wine was grown on Horace s old farm. 
 Would he were liere to drink it. 
 
 That he were ! 
 
 T would do me good to hear him laugh at thee, 
 A love-sick soldier, yet a brave one too. 
 
 But he is drinking nectar with the gods. 
 If I be bi ave I should be true in love, 
 And tender my affection tenderly, 
 For bravery is one half tenderness. 
 The men of courage aye are men of heart, 
 And men of heart must aye love constantly, 
 And constancy, when crossed by disappoint 
 ments, 
 
 Is an unhealing wound ; the whole man thence 
 Is fired with fever, and grows rash and fierce. 
 As thou art brave, come, pledge me once to her, 
 The love I lost
 
 62 SALOME. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 The lost whom thou dost love. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 The one I mourn 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 The mourner thou had st won. 
 
 The god of love, by thine impiety 
 
 To him, offended, shall yet punish thee ; 
 
 And when he smites thee for thy heartless 
 
 jeers, 
 Thy heart shall toss upon a flood of tears. 
 
 Who knows ? It may be in Elysium 
 That we shall, all together, pledge again. 
 So cheer up, man ; give us a merry song, 
 He used to sing as if a Muse had borne 
 
 him, 
 
 A tripping measure, one to stir the blood, 
 And dull thy wits no more with memories. 
 
 I cannot sing, for all things are ajar, 
 And e en celestial harmony would mar.
 
 SALOME. 63 
 
 An accident hath made all things go wrong, 
 All out of tune, and so would be my song. 
 
 It is thyself who now art out of tune, 
 Discordant with all things beneath the moon. 
 So might a harp-string fallen from its strain 
 That all the strings were out of tune complain. 
 But sing 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Ay, sing, whate er thou wilt, but sing. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 One of my own, a little, simple thing. 
 
 [ Sings. 
 
 Zephyr, come, come by. 
 
 Hast thou seen my dear ? 
 Bringest thou her sigh 
 
 To me here ? 
 
 Breathed she a name 
 
 When she sighed, my fair? 
 Ah ! was it the same 
 
 Which I bear ? 
 
 Are thy soft wings wet 
 With her falling tears ? 
 
 Fall they for me yet 
 Spite of years ?
 
 64 SALOMK. 
 
 To her now return, 
 Tell my long-lost dove 
 
 How for her I mourn, 
 How I love. 
 
 Gay! 
 
 Tripping measure ! 
 
 FIRST OFFICER 
 
 SECOND OFFICER. 
 
 Stirring up the blood ! 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 As warm as falling snow-flakes 
 
 THIRD OFFICER 
 
 Twice as tender 
 
 SECOND OFFICER. 
 
 And airy : tell us, went the Zephyr back ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 The song was gay since it hath moved your 
 
 laughter, 
 And stirred the blood which warms your ready 
 
 wit. 
 
 Now Frigius will sing a merry song, 
 One that he calleth merry.
 
 SALOME. 65 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Frigius ! 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 I 11 do my best, if you will join the chorus. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Agreed : what is t ? 
 
 FKIGIUS. 
 
 You 11 catch it on the wing. 
 
 [Sings. 
 
 A friend and a flagon of wine well filled, 
 And a wench in the dance and in music well 
 skilled 
 
 To amuse, and, perchance, to deceive me ; 
 Who laugheth at Love and his sorrowful train, 
 Who never is sad, and will never complain, 
 
 Are the joys of my life, sirs, believe me. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 To Friendship and Venus we 11 drink then, and 
 
 sing 
 Ho, ho for the kingdom where Bacchus is 
 
 king ! 
 We 11 mount on the fumes of the wine and 
 
 away 
 To-morrow ne er cometh, our life is to-day.
 
 66 SALOME. 
 
 The gods are the jolliest fellows alive, 
 
 Ne er sighing for love, never wishing to wive, 
 
 They shake Olympus with laughter. 
 With very best nectar their bowls overflow, 
 They care not what happens above or below, 
 
 And think not what may be hereafter. 
 
 To Friendship and Venus we 11 drink then, and 
 
 sing 
 
 Ho, ho for the kingdom where Bacchus is king ! 
 We 11 mount on the fumes of the wine and 
 
 away 
 To-morrow ne er cometh, our life is to-day. 
 
 We cannot be gods. Let us like the gods be, 
 And woo every beautiful woman we see, 
 
 In Protean forms swear we love her. 
 Ne er loving, and sure, when all other forms 
 
 fail, 
 There is one that hath always, and aye shall 
 
 prevail, 
 The golden shower above her. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 To Friendship and Venus we 11 drink then, and 
 
 sing 
 Ho, ho for the kingdom where Bacchus is king !
 
 SALOME. 67 
 
 We 11 mount on the fumes of the wine and 
 
 away 
 To-morrow ne er cometh, our life is to-day. 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. 
 
 Good ! That becomes a man. 
 
 THIRD OFFICER. 
 
 Faith! Excellent. 
 
 SECOND OFFICER. 
 
 A brave song, Frigius, and bravely sung. 
 
 T is pity when sweet music is profaned 
 
 By impious verse, a thousand times more pity 
 
 Than to see Venus in the arms of Vulcan. 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. 
 
 We have o erstayed our time, our duties call. 
 
 Then will I keep you not. Accept my thanks 
 For courteous company, and my excuse 
 That I cannot be merry as yourselves. 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. * 
 
 We are thy debtors till we meet again. 
 
 [Exeunt all but LEPIDUS and FRIGIUS.
 
 68 SALOME. 
 
 Now is the time, and I am in the mood, 
 Although thou thinkest not, to hear thy story. 
 That powerful love of thine who gently bore, 
 Like Atlas young, a new world on her shoulders, 
 And thee within it, did she weary grow, 
 And cast it 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 She could never weary grow 
 Of her own lovely self, my world of love. 
 
 And leave thee, Alexander-like, to weep 
 For some new world to conquer ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 No new world, 
 
 Though peopled with the fairest goddesses 
 That e er wore woman s form, displayed her 
 
 charms, 
 
 By her enticements made men madly fall, 
 Or made them heroes passing demi-gods, 
 Could turn my thoughts from the dear one I 
 
 love, 
 Though it were blasted, or I banished thence. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Be blind and see no other bliss but this,
 
 SALOME. 69 
 
 Her sighs, her yearnings, tender words, hot 
 
 tears, 
 
 Heart-palpitations, bosom-heaving sobs, 
 Smoth ring embraces, seeming perfect trust, 
 Abandonment of her whole self to thee, 
 Which she would make appear oblivious, 
 Oh blissful dreamer, dreaming of such bliss, 
 And cursed because thv blissful dream is this. 
 
 It is no dream ; Love maketh all bliss real, 
 Imagination may, as dreams, conceive 
 
 Invests a clown with graces from the skies, 
 Endues a fool with wisdom of the gods, 
 An Ethiop clothes in Iris, shining robes : 
 Go on with the true tale of thy true love. 
 If I can help prolong this dream I will, 
 Since t is thy fancy to be happy thus. 
 I 11 give thee sleeping draughts, love potions, 
 
 keep 
 
 Disturbance hence, or strive to master it, 
 Should it approach in form of some fair woman. 
 Now, look at me, I m solemn as thyself. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 When some great bird of sorrow, darkening 
 heaven,
 
 70 SALOME. 
 
 Shall cow thy soul which crows so lustily, 
 T will seek, with drooping plumage, head low 
 
 bent, 
 The shelter of sweet sympathy, content. 
 
 Nay, tell me in good sooth and sympathy 
 Of all thy love for her, and hers for thee. 
 Or, shall I con it in some poet old? 
 I trow such tales have oft before been told. 
 The names and actors change, but still the play 
 Is played in words unchanging day by day. 
 Now am I serious, employ my mood, 
 And, by imparting, give thy love its food. 
 
 I would Experience might teach thee how 
 Love may be true, and sacred keep its vow ; 
 Then should st thou reverence what thou now 
 
 dost rate 
 The cheat of knaves and folly of the great. 
 
 When sweet Experience shall teach me this, 
 May I be skilled to call such learning bliss. 
 
 With the barbarians in Germany 
 My love, and her companions
 
 SALOME. 71 
 
 FRIGIU8. 
 
 Were as trees 
 Transplanted to base uses, fading there 
 
 Nay, were as plants walled in and sacred held 
 For healing virtues. On their way from Britain, 
 Driven on that frigid coast and taken captive, 
 Salome, and the others, all were brought 
 Before the chief, who, then, the subject was 
 Of powerful maladies, whose secret wiles 
 His doctors, ignorant, could not defeat. 
 Salome, by a power these Christians have, 
 When holy as herself, laid skillful siege, 
 And shortly made Disease capitulate. 
 The chief set free, and to his realm restored, 
 In grateful health proclaimed at once a law 
 Which made their persons sacred, and thence 
 forth 
 
 None, save his gods, with him had so much 
 worth. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 So then, thy love is a wise woman s pupil, 
 And in that forest shade, ere this, no doubt, 
 Hath instituted an academy. 
 There shalt thou find her teaching youthful 
 
 Germans, 
 And giving them the name of Thonians.
 
 72 SALOME. 
 
 LEPIUUS. 
 
 For no such manly work was she inclined, 
 Yet for good actions ever had a mind. 
 
 FKIGIUS. 
 
 Salome, there, could follow out her bent, 
 And lecture gaping men-wives in a tent. 
 
 The gods ne er saw, with their far-reaching 
 
 gaze, 
 
 A modesty more excellent than hers, 
 A gentleness more gentle, heart more full 
 Of ready sympathy. Her life was worth, 
 In her esteem, the good she did, no more. 
 Such as she was, such was my Thona too. 
 And, under guidance of sweet Charity, 
 They sought out w^oes with such timidity 
 That thou wouldst say they were almost ashamed 
 To be encountered as the followers 
 Of this fair mistress, lest it should appear 
 They followed her too poorly. Where they 
 
 went, 
 To meet them tearful thanks and prayers were 
 
 sent. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 They made a progress very April-like.
 
 SALOME. 73 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Their frank but modest look, their soft dis 
 course, 
 
 Their gentle bearing, their chaste courtesy 
 Was but their beauty in harmonious action, 
 A guard of powerful charms repelling all 
 Too venturous thoughts, or over-bold desires. 
 And timorous sense of woman s winning weak 
 ness 
 
 With magic weapons furnished loveliness, 
 And gave an air entreating to their grace, 
 Whose every action seemed to ask protection. 
 And guardian Innocence invested them 
 With majesty fore which the boldest words 
 Were dumb ; with certain trustfulness which 
 
 pleaded, 
 And which, in woman s mien, ne er fails to 
 
 rouse 
 
 The noblest feelings of the noblest men, 
 And gentleness create in breasts the rudest. 
 
 Lo, I grow gentle hearing thee relate. 
 
 Had I but seen them it had made me great. 
 
 Their presence was like Music when she moves 
 Enchanting passions base to helplessness,
 
 74 SALOME. 
 
 And freeing the diviner parts in man 
 
 By these same passions tyrannous oppressed. 
 
 But did st thou tell thy love ? And loved she 
 too? 
 
 One day when Phoebus ardent eye had driven 
 The lolling kine to shelter of deep shade, 
 And men had hidden from his majesty, 
 As they had feared the god in his bright pres 
 ence, 
 
 I sought a brook which, for its dainty course, 
 Had paved a way with white and moss-grown 
 
 stones 
 
 And work Mosaic made of varied pebbles, 
 O er which it sauntered in the coolest bowers 
 Of overhanging trees and blooming shrubs. 
 There, seated on a happy bank, was she, 
 One little foot half-buried in the stream, 
 Which tarried, gurgling, round the pretty thing, 
 And stretched its lips to kiss the ankle white. 
 Her hair, unbound, adown her shoulders fell, 
 And o er her bosom as it were the wings 
 Of some bright angel guarding Innocence. 
 Her robe undone, that she might lave her throat, 
 Displayed her fair round neck
 
 SALOME. 75 
 
 FKIGIUS. 
 
 And beauties there 
 
 Like rose-buds white just bursting from their 
 husks. 
 
 LEPIUUS. 
 
 I would escape unseen to fright her not. 
 But, ere I could withdraw, the sentinels 
 Placed at the roseate gateways of her soul, 
 O er which her tresses, as luxuriant vines, 
 Hung, half concealing them, gave warning. 
 
 Then 
 
 She started up, and, seeing me, a blush 
 Changed noonday fair to evening s lovelier hue 
 In that sweet heaven on which my gaze was 
 
 fixed, 
 
 As, with eyes downcast, trembling, eager hands 
 She tried, unskillfully to hide those charms. 
 
 And skillfully thou did st assail her then, 
 To gain possession of them ta en by storm. 
 
 With reverence, such as at the holiest shrine 
 Pleads for the worshiper, who there would seek 
 The oracle in which his life is summed, 
 I neared her ; and as best my heart could speak, 
 Avowed my love and pleaded for her own.
 
 76 SALOME. 
 
 She shook with gentle terror, turned her face, 
 Suffused like morning, from me, while her hand 
 Strove to be free more like a timid thing 
 Than one in anger 
 
 And thou thoughtest real 
 This coyness counterfeit ? 
 
 Into mine arms 
 
 And to my breast with gentle force I drew her, 
 And there she panted as she would inhale 
 A breath of life immortal passing near, 
 And live forever. Then I bent my head 
 And gathered unripe kisses, not yet bloomed, 
 But sweet as dewy rose-buds on her lips. 
 Still only half-concealed were those twin altars 
 Of Avhitest alabaster, on whose summits 
 The constant fires of love glow constantly. 
 Her perfect form had made a Grecian worship. 
 
 Fie ! Lepidus ! I pray thee talk not so. 
 Destroy not all those flowers of modesty, 
 My blushes, with such overheated words. 
 The delicacy of my soul should be 
 Still unimpaired by any word of sense.
 
 SALOME. 77 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 A madcap art thou. What ! art grown so nice 
 In this o erscrupulous age, so deeply skilled 
 In hidden knowledge, that no word of love 
 But to its ear a hidden meaning gives, 
 Which makes it think it ought to blush, yet 
 
 cannot ? 
 
 No name which shows distinguishment of sex 
 But it would shun, as showing guilty knowledge. 
 E en in the closet must no word be spoke 
 Describing beauties all the world may see. 
 No name of image or of aught pertaining 
 To Love s delightful worship but their souls, 
 Whose empty voices make the loud st outcry, 
 Submerged in sense till they are sensual all, 
 Perceive what brings them shame. Yet they 
 
 unveil 
 
 Those sacred altars in Love s holiest shrine 
 To vulgar and profane ; and still the nearest 
 Shall but offend if by a word he show 
 That he sees aught, or worships what is seen, 
 As Beauty aye is worshiped by the pure. 
 For, knowing naught, in this all-sensual mood, 
 But Love profaned, they may not comprehend 
 That Love and Beauty are a wedded pair, 
 And Poetry their first-begotten child, 
 Who, uncorrupted, speaketh guilelessly 
 As children speak ; and loveth that the most 
 To Love and Beauty equally most dear.
 
 78 SALOME. 
 
 Ah ! then t is thou art Poetry uncorrupted. 
 Thou speakest guilelessly as children speak. 
 Oh ! thus I m in no danger ; pray go on. 
 
 Should Venus priestesses be all debased, 
 Profaned by them her pure, primeval worship, 
 The purest worshiper in formal words 
 Should, in their vision, be as vile as they. 
 
 Nay, talk of love. I hate philosophy. 
 
 We left thee with thy loved one in thine arms. 
 
 Still pleading for her love, some word, some 
 
 sign; 
 
 Her bosom heaved against my rib -bound heart 
 Like tides of ocean on the rocky flanks 
 Of some volcano shaken by its fires 
 
 Or ruddy apples tossed upon a brook. 
 
 Peace, mocker ! peace ! What ! Shall I beat 
 thee?
 
 SALOME. 79 
 
 Nay. 
 
 I pray thee do not, for the mad are strong. 
 I would but aid thee with comparisons. 
 What proofs would st thou have more ? Wert 
 thou content ? 
 
 Ay, almost sad with great excess of joy, 
 
 For as I loved her so did she love me. 
 
 And, till the treacherous villains spoiled my 
 
 plot, 
 
 Which should have knit our destinies for aye, 
 This love grew hourly and suffused our souls. 
 But so to leave her, no long farewells said, 
 No last kiss, knowing it to be the last, 
 In whose dear agony half of each soul 
 Torn from itself is to the other given 
 In pledge eternal of eternal love ! 
 Oh could I hold her in my arms again 
 But for one moment, or the hundredth part 
 Of time s minutest measure, I would give 
 The rest of life, if such the forfeit were, 
 And die in ecstasy, this longing ended. 
 
 Enter a SOLDIER. 
 
 My Lord, I bear a message ; here t is writ.
 
 80 SALOME. 
 
 LKPIDUS. (Rends.) 
 
 To the great generals Lepidus or Sextus. 
 Whence hadTst thou this, my man ? 
 
 A personage 
 
 Who might have been a messenger from Hades, 
 Or from supernal gods, so dread his mien, 
 Appeared before, and gave this letter to me. 
 
 What was he like ? 
 
 A man ; and yet unlike. 
 
 His eyes were as two fires ; his voice was heard 
 As might be meanings of some mighty shade, 
 Disconsolate, when wafted o er the Styx. 
 
 This soldier is a poet. He hath seen 
 A starveling Jew, and his poetic vision 
 Conceived a wonder: magnified his bones 
 Till they were frame- work for a universe ; 
 Saw each dull orb a world in conflagration ; 
 Heard the dread din of Hades from his mouth, 
 And speaketh guilelessly as children speak 
 A plague on all the race ! of use to none :
 
 SALOME. 81 
 
 Full of untruths, they history pervert ; 
 Full of presumption, Xature they distort, 
 All, thee excepted, Lepidus, my friend. 
 But read the letter, pray let s know his news. 
 
 LEPIDUS. (Reads.) 
 
 Salome and Thona are in the city, starving! 
 Shame ! idlers, craven Romans, lovers false ! 
 Starving ! 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Salome and Thona in the city ! 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Impossible 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Can it be true ? 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 If so, 
 With one blow he hath given me life and death. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 Whence came this messenger? 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 I cannot tell. 
 I saw him not till he accosted me. 
 
 6
 
 82 SALOME. 
 
 My Tliona here, so near me ? Lover false ! 
 Ay false, who could not feel her holy presence, 
 If she indeed be here. Yet how to prove it ? 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 But whither went he ? 
 
 Toward the city gate 
 
 Untouched ? 
 
 Ay, though our soldiers smote at him, 
 And thrust with spears, and flung their javelins, 
 Which turned aside as they had glanced from 
 
 shields 
 
 Invisible, and arrows fleAv astray 
 About him, turning not, until he vanished. 
 
 He vanished 
 
 Ay, my Lord, he disappeared 
 As he had sunk into the solid earth.
 
 SALOME. 06 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 When was this ? 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Early in the morning watch, 
 Ere yet the torch of Dawn had lit the world. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Why comest thou so late ? 
 
 At first, my Lord, 
 
 I could not leave my post, and when relieved, 
 I hastened straightway to the tent of Sextus, 
 Who then with Titus had to Antonia gone. 
 I sought thee in thy tent ; thou, too, wert forth 
 Upon some secret duty ; none could say 
 Where I might find thee. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 It is well. Retire. 
 [Exit SOLDIER. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 A strange tale, truly. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Yet the man is brave, 
 And fears nor shade nor demon. Counsel me.
 
 84 SALOME. 
 
 FRIGIUS. 
 
 I would to Titus, make the matter known, 
 And seek his aid. Josephus, too, perchance, 
 The wise man of the Jews, could counsel thee. 
 Demand a parley, question then the Jews 
 
 Thou sayest well. If this be aught but sound, 
 Or Lepidus is lost or Thona found.
 
 Summit of a Tower. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 YET they are here. Of that my skill assures me, 
 Which, like a woman, hath me hither led 
 To balk me now that I would grasp the prize. 
 For two whole days, two sleepless nights, I ve 
 
 sought, 
 
 By every crafty instrument of power, 
 To find their lurking-place, without avail. 
 In vain I ve studied till I can outdo 
 My masters, as could Moses. I have gone 
 Beyond the bounds of knowledge, and have found 
 Such skill and potency in use of Nature 
 That magic is a shallow trickster s art 
 Compared with master secrets in my power, 
 Which guide me to the hidden treasure-house, 
 But mock me now that I would have the key : 
 Yet are they here, and I must find them out. 
 I turn to you, O dwellers in the heart : 
 Ye shall not fail me ; answer to my skill, 
 And by you shall I yet achieve my will. 
 Now have I Sextus ; Lepidus, ere this, 
 Hath read my message, and, to save his love,
 
 bo SALOME. 
 
 Some desperate move shall make, and I will 
 
 take him. 
 
 If he do not, why, then I need him not, 
 Since I have taken Sextus in my plot. 
 With these I bait the traps for those ; with 
 
 those 
 
 For these, who shall, for love, themselves dis 
 close. 
 
 And, when the covert is discovered, then, 
 O God-defying Stubbornness, stand firm, 
 And give no ground to swift and sharp accusers. 
 Yet dare I not look on my crime marked out 
 In plain and definite words ; its aspect dread 
 Would, as a Gorgon s, turn me into stone, 
 But for my doom which holds this solid flesh 
 Unchangeable, this warm blood uncongealed, 
 Yet must confront it. Let me be the thing 
 
 O 
 
 This doom hath made me, seeking not to thwart 
 The purpose of the Infinite, ha, ha ! 
 For he that is accursed a curse must be. 
 Let me be great in it, as Satan great, 
 Ay, overdo his cunning and his hate. 
 
 Enter SIMON. 
 
 Have they been found ? 
 
 Nay
 
 SALOME. Di 
 
 KALIPHILUB. 
 
 Marah aids thee not? 
 
 Not yet. Perchance 
 
 KALIPH 
 
 The torture might induce her. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 I would not use it; know, she is my wife. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Hath been so racked and buffeted by thee 
 She would not mind the torture ; thou art right. 
 But it concerns thee to find out these Christians. 
 If thou would st save the city and be king. 
 Look to it well. To me it matters not. 
 This nation rusheth howling, shrieking down 
 
 O O 
 
 To silent, desolate, and final ruin. 
 
 But, as a vessel shivered by the lightning, 
 
 It leaveth me afloat, to beat all shores, 
 
 Yet ne er to find the thing thou dread st, a 
 
 grave. 
 What are to me these flames and falling towers ? 
 
 C? 
 
 I cannot perish. So shall I see fall, 
 As t were, from year to year, the leaves and 
 fruit,
 
 88 SALOME. 
 
 Cities and nations from the world s old tree, 
 With ripeness heavy in the age s autumn, 
 As cycle followeth cycle till the end ; 
 Or blighted in their green and crescent state, 
 And scattered by the storm-breath of the Al 
 mighty, 
 
 Which maketh winter in the universe. 
 I, as an angel, see them go, and hear 
 Ravage of cities and the rush of ruins, 
 As man the rustle of the falling leaves. 
 Henceforward I ve no country. In each land 
 A phantom from the shadows of the past 
 Shall I appear ; and in each prosperous nation, 
 As on a ship, in pleasant weather, sail 
 The space that lies twixt the dim shores of ages. 
 When cometh a fierce storm, I 11 leave the vessel 
 To those who own it ; let them struggle for it, 
 And save it, if they can. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Since thou permittest 
 Thy servant to hear so much of thyself, 
 Vouchsafe, I pray, to tell me who thou art. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 One who can aid thee, if thou wilt obey. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 I will obey in all things possible.
 
 SALOME. 89 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Things possible ! T is well. Go to my dwell 
 ing* 
 
 There shalt thou find the Roman general 
 Sextus. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 How ! Is he 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Hence, and do as I command, 
 And bear him thence into the castle dungeon. 
 Then cause a proclamation to be made 
 That Sextus is a prisoner in the castle, 
 And that he shall be crucified to-morrow. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 It shall be done. And then ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I 11 tell thee more. 
 
 [Exit SIMON. 
 
 She surely shall the proclamation hear, 
 
 Or some kind friend shall tell it in her ear. 
 
 Forgetful of all caution, she will flee 
 
 To Sextus in his dungeon that s to me. 
 
 The net is set, and placed is the decoy, 
 
 The dove will fly into the snare with joy.
 
 A Chamber in Jerusalem. 
 
 SALOME, THONA, and BERNICE. 
 
 BEENICE, waking. 
 
 WILL he not come ? Oh ! will he never come ? 
 I loved him so he hath forgotten me. 
 But he hath gone away, and never more 
 May come to stay my weeping as of yore. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Bernice, dear. 
 
 BERNICE. 
 
 Ah ! thou art here, Salome, 
 My loved protectress, my dear guide to hope. 
 I ne er can tell the gratitude I owe 
 To thee, and to the Tenderness which sent thee. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 How art thou, love? 
 
 Almost well, almost well. 
 1 have been dreaming of the olden time,
 
 SALOME. 91 
 
 Of one I loved my thoughts will cling to 
 
 earth ; 
 In sleep I seemed to live earth s sorrows o er. 
 
 The constant heart loves constantly till death, 
 
 Oft clings to the unworthy and the vile, 
 
 As vines still cling, e en when their leaves have 
 
 fallen, 
 To branches all decayed and trunks polluted. 
 
 Oh is it wrong in this most solemn hour, 
 While I can see, as t were, the messengers 
 Sent to conduct me to our Father s house, 
 By Love and Condescension infinite, 
 And feel myself almost in heavenly presence, 
 For me to think upon Kaliphilus ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Ah me ! I cannot deem it wrong to love. 
 
 Oh that he could be brought from wandering ! 
 That I could see him once and plead with him 
 To bow his pride, and feel the sad, sweet joy 
 Of penitence, and ever present bliss 
 Of full forgiveness. How I pity him ! 
 How mournful is his case ! How very dreadful !
 
 92 . SALOME. 
 
 Even for him there may be mercy yet. 
 
 BERNICE. 
 
 tell him, for thou yet, perchance, shall see 
 
 him, 
 
 That, till my death, I prayed for him ; that still, 
 If after death it be permitted me, 
 My soul shall wrestle for his poor soul s weal. 
 And tell him that if it may comfort him 
 
 1 loved him still, with pure and chastened 
 
 love, 
 
 As I dare trust. Beseech him to repent. 
 Wilt thou do this for me ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 I will, I will, 
 
 BERNICE. 
 
 Salome, take my hand, and yield it not, 
 Save to the heavenly guides who wait for me. 
 As thou didst lead me from the ways of sin 
 Conduct me so unto the gate of heaven. 
 Farewell, dear Thona. Thou hast not dis 
 dained 
 
 To be to me a sister. Fare thee well. 
 Give my last greetings to the faithful band 
 Who with us have so long been sorely tried. 
 Do not let go my hands. I fain would sleep.
 
 SALOME. 93 
 
 CHORUS, Christians in another chamber. 
 
 God is our refuge, ever present aid, 
 Our firm foundation ere the worlds were made. 
 Therefore we fear not, though the earth remove, 
 And roll away in flames the skies above. 
 
 Though all the nations rage and be our foes, 
 Though hell let loose on us infernal woes, 
 Though seas mount up on seas and reach to 
 
 heaven, 
 Though day in night be lost, and morn in even, 
 
 Though utter darkness reign in utter space, 
 Though Death in hideous form hold every place, 
 Though chaos in the centre whelm the pole, 
 And dread confusion through creation roll, 
 
 Though nether regions be commixed with 
 
 heaven, 
 
 And all the stars be from their stations riven, 
 God is our refuge, our unfailing strength, 
 And mercy, silent long, will speak at length. 
 
 At home ! dear home ! Do ye not see the hills 
 Which guard our own dear valley? though I 
 walk
 
 94 SALOME. 
 
 Though I walk through the valley see ! the 
 tents 
 
 The flow rets sweet which blossom in the mead 
 ows. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 She is not well asleep. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Perchance her soul 
 
 Is breaking free to visit the loved spots 
 Of earth before it takes a final flight. 
 
 I have so longed to see my native hills 
 From whence cometh my help, I will lift 
 
 up- 
 T is gone I cannot find it. See ! they re 
 
 armed ! 
 
 Their russet armor glances through the rents 
 Of mantles battle-torn and when he called 
 They came and helped him, giant men-at- 
 arms. 
 
 They fear no foe, and they are resting now 
 Lo ! he is coming ! he is on the hills ! 
 I 11 go to meet him. Oh ! are they not fair ? 
 
 She feels no pain. She shall not suffer more.
 
 SALOME. 95 
 
 BERNICE. 
 
 Who called me ? Ah ! I 11 come, I 11 come, 
 
 I hear. 
 
 Leave me a little while it is so fair 
 And now the lambs are coming to the fold. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 Alas ! alas ! Will she not know us more ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Yea, let us hope so, in the blessed mansions. 
 
 O mother! mother! I have come again. 
 Forgive me, mother. Ah ! she hears me not. 
 The skv is over them and in its place 
 The sun goes up and down and gentle clouds, 
 Behold those gentle clouds ! how beautiful ! 
 They wing the air and come beneath the sun 
 The saints redeemed, in white below the Throne 
 Are gathered now they bow themselves in 
 
 praise 
 Are they not saints ? How white and pure they 
 
 are ! 
 Are they not saints ? Who told me they were 
 
 saints ? 
 
 THONA. 
 
 So white and pure shalt thou be, blissful saint. 
 Enter CHORUS.
 
 96 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Well come, dear friends, in time to see our 
 
 loved one 
 Depart before us to a better country. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 The guest is ready, with her wedding garments 
 on. 
 
 Her longings shall be ended in fruition full. 
 
 And wooed no more by sins in angel forms, no 
 more 
 
 Must she, with sleepless penitence the live-long 
 night, 
 
 Undo in tears the web of errors wrought by day. 
 
 No more shall trials crush her down with moun 
 tain weight. 
 
 Reposing ever in His house, upon His breast 
 
 Shall she, in trust eternal, find eternal rest. 
 
 They melt away ! they fade ! they fade ! alas ! 
 I cannot see them more. 
 
 The shadow falls. 
 
 BERNICE. 
 
 Only the clouds the fair white clouds they 
 come !
 
 SALOME. 97 
 
 THONA. 
 
 She is, perchance, entranced. It is a vision. 
 
 He 11 bring her to His Father s palace, 
 Whose portico is built of planets, 
 And He shall lead her to the gardens. 
 No tempests and no storms can come there, 
 Nor war s alarms, nor sound of battles. 
 There are no lightnings, there no thunders ; 
 Shut thence, they hiss and roar in Hades, 
 Or haunt, with storms, the earth to threaten. 
 And, driven out by Love, Fear hideth 
 With men, and Hate with demons dwelleth. 
 
 BERNICE. 
 
 Lo ! over them the sky hath gone away ! 
 Oh ! Oh ! How wonderful ! How beautiful ! 
 
 And by the river, 
 Where bloometh evermore, 
 In groves soft breathing, 
 The eternal tree of life, 
 Shall He conduct her, 
 And lead her by the hand. 
 The mantle of His love 
 Shall cover her securely. 
 7
 
 98 SALOME. 
 
 She shall repose in bliss, 
 And never more be weary. 
 
 My love, what dost thou see ? 
 
 THONA. 
 
 She heeds thee not. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 And there shall she be crowned with glory, 
 And Joy shall shout from all the arches, 
 And Love s sweet essence, Trust, shall guard 
 
 her, 
 
 And heavenly Peace shall be her pillow. 
 She shall go no more out forever, 
 Nor ever more be grieved or anxious. 
 She shall no more remember sorrow, 
 But, with infinity of blessing, 
 Within His arms, upon His breast, 
 Forever and forever rest. 
 
 They come ! the clouds ! Ah ! No, they are 
 
 not clouds, 
 
 But angels and the glory over them 
 They stretch their arms to me I cannot lift 
 My hands. O blissful Beauty ! Love ! O Life ! 
 
 [Dies.
 
 SALOME. 99 
 
 Ended the night, the morning appeareth. 
 Leaving the body, which pressed, as a night 
 mare, 
 
 Trooping temptations and sins, and accusals, 
 Down on the spirit enthralled and in anguish, 
 Goeth she now to be bathed in the glory, 
 Robed with the righteousness, crowned with 
 
 the beauty 
 
 Of the slain Lamb, the Christ, the Redeemer. 
 So the Eternal day for her beginneth.
 
 A Mountain overlooking Jerusalem. 
 TITUS and JOSEPHUS. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 THY purpose gained, and all the city viewed 
 From this high place, I pray thee grant me 
 
 leave 
 
 To stay a little here ; and pardon me 
 Some natural weakness, as, for the last time, 
 I gaze upon that city and that Temple. 
 Unfaithful deem me not. 
 
 Mourn not too much 
 
 Thy country s ruin. Seek to know the will 
 Of thine own God, whom I, too, venerate. 
 
 [Exit TITUS. 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 O thou beleaguered city ! O thou queen 
 Disrobed, imprisoned, scourged, defiled, in 
 
 chains, 
 
 Mine eyes will not behold thee ; veiling mists 
 Are drawn before their wounded vision ; tears
 
 SALOME. 101 
 
 Dissolve thy burning image in my brain. 
 O Zion, loved of David, O thou bride 
 Of Israel, the heathen have unloosed 
 Thy girdle, and have gazed upon thy beauty. 
 Their arms encompassed thee, they have de 
 spoiled thee. 
 For thou didst wanton with them, and thine 
 
 eyes 
 
 Went softly after them; thy smiles invited. 
 Thou yearnedst for their love ; thy lips con 
 fessed it. 
 Thou madest bare thy breasts ; thy shining 
 
 feet 
 
 Strayed in their paths ; thy white hands beck 
 oned them ; 
 
 Thy voice, in sighing accents, sang of love. 
 Thy spoilers have been many ; thou hast thought 
 Them lovers, but they were thy masters ; now 
 They cast thee off to be the scorn of nations. 
 Oh woe is me for thee, beleaguered city ! 
 Oh woe is me for thee, thou bride of Israel ! 
 Thou God of Abraham, if it be meet 
 Thy servant should Thine awful purpose know, 
 (.) condescend, from Thy dread Dwelling Place, 
 To send Thv messengers, and Thy decree 
 
 * c> */ 
 
 Reveal, O Holy One, if it may be. 
 
 Thine answering thunders rush along the sky ; 
 
 In dread expectance on my face I lie.
 
 102 SALOME. 
 
 Enter an OFFICER. 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 My Lord 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 How now ? What ? would the general march ? 
 
 He sent me not, but please thee now move on. 
 The sun, like an empyreal ship aflame 
 On an empyreal ocean, goeth down 
 Far from the shore of the blue firmament. 
 The clouds, like waves white crested, black be 
 neath, 
 
 Surge round him with tempestuous turning tides. 
 The earth lies still with awe. The valley s dim, 
 Already, with the slowly moving shadows, 
 Night s escort, marching up the mountain side, 
 With banners gold and scarlet in mid heavens, 
 To seat her on its crest. The sky, o erhead, 
 Is clear ; yet is there something in the air 
 More terrible than storms. The camels look 
 With frightened gaze toward heaven and snuff 
 
 the breeze, 
 
 With terror trembling, uttering the cry 
 With which they greet the yet far off Simoom. 
 The dogs crouch low and whine ; the horses 
 
 snort, 
 Toss high their upright manes, with eyes aflame,
 
 SALOME. 103 
 
 And, hungry as they are, refuse to eat. 
 Oh let us go ; I pray thee, let us go. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Hast thou heard aught? 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 Yea, I have heard, my Lord, 
 The distant rushing sound of many wings, 
 The heavy thunder now again it rolls ! 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Return unto thy post, and there await 
 The general s orders. 
 
 [Exit OFFICER. 
 
 Lord, upon my face, 
 
 If I, so mean, may find with Thee such grace, 
 Grant unto me to know Thy holy will. 
 In midst of wrath remember mercy still. 
 
 A VOICE from the Jar heights. 
 
 Amen ! 
 
 Patience cease. 
 
 Vengeance call thy chiefs. 
 
 Send the winds to fetch last plagues ; 
 
 Set them on this people ; on their heads 
 
 Horrors pour; madden them with woe. 
 
 In their hearts let miseries nest. 
 
 Every curse exhaust. 
 
 Do thy worst. 
 
 Amen !
 
 104 SALOME. 
 
 Enier TITUS. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Josephus ! What ! Joscphus, come away. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 The Lord hath spoken. Let the Earth keep 
 silence. 
 
 Voice of VENGEANCE, descending. 
 
 On, Discord ! In the van of all thy force 
 Place Jealousy, Ambition, Envy, Pride. 
 Enrage this nation. All thy terrors move. 
 Let thy fell imprecations fill the air. 
 Tear from the North the South, from East the 
 
 West. 
 Thy breast by thine own hands be riven ; 
 
 thence 
 
 Let tainting vapors every eye infest, 
 That, with distorted vision, they behold 
 No friends, all enemies, and all assail. 
 Let thy hot breath enflame each soul with hate. 
 
 Phantom of DISCORD, rising. 
 
 Ay, I have so unstrung their polity 
 
 It sounds but dissonance. Now it shall grate, 
 
 And, of itself, scream anarchy and woe, 
 
 So that the ears of Heaven shall deafened be. 
 
 [Passes.
 
 SALOME. 105 
 
 Voice of VENGEANCE, descending. 
 
 War, after Discord press more fiercely on. 
 
 Whet up thy fangs, and sharpen thy red claws. 
 
 Move with the front and seeming of a man, 
 
 But with a dragon s heart and ravening maw. 
 
 And, to the fierceness of rapacious beasts, 
 
 Add cunning of a demon. Cruelty 
 
 Shall guide thy steps, Injustice bear thy torch. 
 
 Beset this people ; dig a trench about, 
 
 And hedge them in on every side. Then feed 
 
 Until satiety shall drive thee hence. 
 
 Phantom of WAR, rising. 
 
 Licentiousness shall furnish forth the feast, 
 And Passions serve it up. I 11 eat, I 11 eat 
 Ah ! 1 ve some appetite. I 11 gorge myself, 
 And disappear when naught remains to crunch. 
 
 [Posses 
 Voice of VKNCKANCE, descending. 
 
 Go, Famine, lead thy latest tortures forth. 
 Press with thy skinny hand the parching throat 
 More closely, pinch, and set thy stinging teeth 
 Deep into quivering vitals ; sharply gripe 
 Each separate entrail in a thousand parts, 
 Until each part throb with a thousand pangs. 
 Tax Nature to the utmost ; yet slay not 
 At once, but tempt with every loathsome thing 
 To deep defiling crimes against their laws, 
 And thus to condemnation press them on.
 
 106 SALOME. 
 
 Phantom of FAMINE, rising. 
 
 Give ! give ! Oli woe ! Oh woe ! I go ! I go ! 
 I 11 gnaw thorn to the bone, I 11 gnaw ! I 11 
 
 gnaw ! 
 
 I m starving I am flat with hunger. Oh ! 
 I 11 drink their slowly wasting blood. Give ! 
 
 give ! 
 
 [Passes. 
 
 Voice o/" VENGEANCE, descending. 
 
 Come, Pestilence, follow thou hard upon 
 The heels of Famine. Breathe from thy gaunt 
 
 cheeks 
 
 Infectious vapors. Let thy rheumy eyes 
 Distill from their deep hollows poisonous dews. 
 Shake fevers from thy dank and matted hair, 
 Where they lie hidden. With thy fingers touch 
 The centre of each joint, and racking pains 
 Implant remediless. Burn eveiy nerve, 
 And fix blaspheming horrors in their souls, 
 With groans, and wails, and curses tearing 
 
 them. 
 
 Phantom of PESTILENCE, rising. 
 
 All noiseless, swifter than the comet s flight, 
 Along the setting sun s slant rays, the moon s 
 Uprising beams, I move; my breath attaints 
 The air. Aha! they faint! I wither them. 
 
 [Passes.
 
 SALOME. 107 
 
 Voice of VENGEANCE, descending. 
 
 Thou, Conflagration, be not over fast. 
 
 O 
 
 Conceal thy coal-red feet awhile from view 
 In mists of evening. Gird about thy loins 
 Thy smoky mantle that it seem a cloud. 
 Thy head, with its disheveled hair of flame, 
 Repose upon the setting sun s red couch, 
 Till Discord, Pestilence, War, Famine, all 
 Their ills exhaust ; then come thou on with 
 
 Death 
 
 Upon thy path, or hidden in thy train, 
 And leave him naught to do but count his gains. 
 
 Phantom of CONFLAGRATION, rising. 
 
 My chariot is readv, and the winds, 
 
 My snorting coursers, prance. I 11 hunt them 
 
 down ; 
 About them net-like wreathe my lengthening 
 
 arms ; 
 And gather in my feast. I 11 gloat, I 11 glut. 
 
 [Passes. 
 Voice of VENGEANCE, descending. 
 
 Thou, Desolation, take thy silent seat, 
 When Discord, War, and Famine from the place, 
 And Pestilence and Conflagration pass. 
 There sit alone with thine unmoving eye, 
 And blackened feet, and moss-grown nether 
 limbs,
 
 108 SALOME. 
 
 Their scarred and bony lengths but half con 
 cealed, 
 
 And ribbed sides o ergrown with deadly vines, 
 And naked skull, that grins the skeleton 
 Of soft and beautiful Prosperity, 
 And let naught human near the accursed spot. 
 
 Phantom of DESOLATION, rising. 
 
 Ah ! I 11 be still enough. I will not move, 
 Nor wink. Serpents shall fawn on me, and 
 
 bats ; 
 
 And in the dismal hollows of mine ears 
 The screeching owl, unscared, shall build its nest. 
 
 [Passes. 
 A VOICE from the far heights. 
 
 Amen ! 
 
 Mercy go. 
 
 Weep not for this race, 
 
 Doomed to wander through the earth, 
 
 Fainting under cross and under scourge, 
 
 Expiating sin that reached to heaven, 
 
 Till in judgment He shall come 
 
 Whom they scourged. Go forth: 
 
 Comfort His. 
 
 Amen ! 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Whence these dread forms ? Have mine eyes 
 
 played me false ? 
 Roars awful Chaos only in mine ears ?
 
 SALOME. 109 
 
 The Lord hath spoken by His messengers, 
 And thou hast heard their voice, hast seen their 
 
 shapes. 
 
 Go on, nor hesitate, for thou art chosen 
 The instrument of the Almighty s vengeance. 
 Into thy hand the city is delivered. 
 
 [Exit TITUS. 
 
 Oh woe to thee ! alas ! beleaguered city. 
 Oh woe to thee ! alas ! thou bride of Israel. 
 Now art thou left alone, alone, O Zion. 
 Now art thou cursed and fallen, Loved of David. 
 The Judge of all the earth hath given sentence. 
 The Judge of all the earth, He hath condemned 
 
 thee. 
 
 Swift burn the air His messengers of wrath. 
 Tremble in silence all ye gazing worlds, 
 And veil your faces that ye perish not. 
 Thou Temple of the Mighty King, whose crest 
 Bears up empyreal glories ; from whose heights 
 Angels alone can gaze, nor fall adown 
 The unmeasurable space ; whose awful steep 
 Glares dizziness into the wildered brain, 
 And reverence on the soul ; whose dreadful front 
 No mortal eye can look upon, for rays 
 Which burn with brightness equal to the sun s ; 
 Within whose walls the Almighty deigned to 
 
 place
 
 110 SALOME. 
 
 His covenant, to meet His chosen people, 
 Shall we ne er bow again toward thee to wor 
 ship ? 
 
 Must all thine awful grandeur disappear 
 Like piles magnificent of evening clouds ? 
 Where shall we worship ? How address our 
 God? 
 
 Enter OFFICER. 
 
 Are they all gone ? I own I was afraid. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 What hast thou seen? 
 
 Such sights as freeze the blood 
 In warmer veins, and crack the brain apart, 
 Break the foundations of the judgment up, 
 And blast the eyes : forms reaching to the clouds, 
 But through whose ghastly, ribless sides the sun 
 Looked dully from the west. Up, up, they came 
 Like smoke from Hades, only they had voice. 
 And such a voice ! the thunders of great Jove 
 Are whispers to it 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Where wert thou, my man?
 
 SALOME. Ill 
 
 I dared not go far from thee I was near 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Prepare the troop. We must out-run the Eve 
 To Caesar s camp. 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 I 11 go at once, my Lord. 
 [Exit OFFICER. 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 The Lord of terrors speaketh, and the earth 
 Shakes at His voice. Woe to him who with 
 stands ! 
 Shall man, a worm, dare speak with Thee, O 
 
 Lord ? 
 Let me adore in silence at Thy feet. 
 
 Enter OFFICER. 
 
 So soon returned, my friend ? What, is the troop 
 Afoot ? 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 It truly is, my Lord, afoot. 
 The horses had more wits in their swift heels 
 Than we in our slow heads, for they had wit 
 Enough to set their ready wits to work 
 And run away ; while we d but wit enough 
 To let fright addle the poor wits we had, 
 Till we were frightened off our feet, and then
 
 112 SALOME. 
 
 Our wits as well were in our heels as heads ; 
 For they were on a level, useless both. 
 Ay, verily, my Lord, the troop s afoot 
 For want of horses. But the camels did 
 As we, lay still ; and for their wits, like us 
 They now have addled wits, that s us, to carry. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Come, let s be gone. Lo ! Titus waits for us. 
 The air is fresh. T will do us good to ride.
 
 A Dungeon. 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 IF it can be that, in the better world, 
 Our shades may know each other; if the dead 
 There conscioiis live of memory and love, 
 Some loving prescience shall bid her come 
 To welcome me upon the heavenly portals. 
 
 joyous hope ! O cheering end of doubts ! 
 
 1 am an old man young, and years have grown 
 Too heavy on me ; memory is full 
 
 Of disappointments ; things not of an hour, 
 But poising each a life. O welcome end ! 
 Farewell, ye chill, deriding stars who Ve mocked 
 My miserv with smiles and quivering lids 
 Winking your jeers. Farewell, thou dry-eyed 
 
 moon : 
 
 Thy orb looked calmly on. Could so much woe 
 Nor move thy showers, nor heave thy tides 
 
 ashore ? 
 
 Farewell, thou staring sun, who turned st not 
 Thy peering eu/.? from fate so dark and mourn 
 ful/
 
 114 SALOME. 
 
 I leave ye all and go the way to life. 
 Would I could say farewell to tlice, O Titus, 
 As thou, returned, slmlt breathe for me, at 
 
 Rome, 
 
 And on the green banks of the Tiber, oft, 
 With thy dear sighs, a loving last farewell. 
 
 Enter SALOME. 
 SALOME. 
 
 O Sextus ! 
 
 SEXTOS. 
 
 Who art thou ? the place is dim 
 That voice it cannot be ! turn to the light. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 O Sextus ! 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 T is ! Salome ! 
 
 Oh ! at last ! 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Ah speak not, lest I wake and find this too 
 A dream. Yet speak and let me know I dream 
 not. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 It is no dream. I will not leave thee more.
 
 SALOME. 115 
 
 Salome, is it thee I hold at last ? 
 
 Or hath the weariness of hope deferred 
 
 O erthrown my reason ? Is it mockery 
 
 Of a disturbed fancy ? Doth Despair, 
 
 To torture, thus deceive me ? Art thou real ? 
 
 I think that thou art real, that it is thou, 
 
 Thou, my Salome. I m not great enough 
 
 To bear the joy which overwhelms me ; no, 
 
 Nor can I grasp not e en the hundredth part 
 
 Of ecstasy which presseth on my soul 
 
 And holds it still. 
 
 O Sextus, feel my heart. 
 There is but one that beateth thus for thee, 
 And that s Salome s. Thou wert long in coming. 
 
 A thousand ages, love. I could not find thee. 
 I ve given the lie direct a million times 
 To boding, cold Despair rest here, my life. 
 Oh for ten thousand powers of consciousness ! 
 So I could feel in each that thou art mine, 
 And that I hold thee here, here, here, Salome. 
 
 But tell me, Sextus
 
 116 SALOME. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 What is it, dear soul ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Perchance I should not ask thee : I would 
 
 know 
 It may be that I should not call thee mine. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Thine, always thine. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And thou hast never wed ? 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 No, never, sweetheart. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Nor hast loved another ? 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Oh never once, my life. 
 
 I am so fond ; 
 
 I who should be so humble am so jealous. 
 Oh I have loved thee so.
 
 SALOME. 117 
 
 Who hath loved thee 
 Could never love another ; thee I loved, 
 And loving once loved always. Think it not 
 A faithful constancy of love in me, 
 But constant power of loveliness in thee, 
 Whose memory hath been to me a shrine 
 Where all my heart s devotion, satisfied, 
 Hath bowed, and never sought another temple. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And hast thou truly loved me all these years ? 
 I m so unworthy of such love, I think 
 It cannot be, save when thou tell st me so. 
 So tell me still, so make me still believe. 
 Oh this is love, outlasting wrongs, neglect, 
 The blights of absence, frosts of hopelessness. 
 I knew that thou wert living, for Fame told 
 Thy noble deeds e en in the forest coverts, 
 And Hope could cherish fires of constant love. 
 But thou didst think me dead, or lost for aye 
 
 Yet felt that thy loved spirit could not die, 
 To that was wedded, nor would be divorced. 
 And so I ve loved but thee. 
 
 Oh how my voyage
 
 118 SALOME. 
 
 Across life s sea liatli dreary been and void. 
 "What bring I to the haven but full regrets? 
 A bark so freighted, with such love and hopes, 
 To be so turned from the desired port, 
 As was mine own by mine own wicked act, 
 And driven, torn by currents, adverse winds, 
 Its precious freight in the first gale thrown o er, 
 To find the haven but now when worn and 
 
 wrecked, 
 When night is falling, driven by a tempest. 
 
 It is not night for us, my love. My breast 
 Shall be thy haven ; t is but mid-afternoon. 
 Our sun is breaking from the clouds at length. 
 While holding thee, Hope brightens all the future. 
 And when our evening comes, together we, 
 Still lovers, in the calm and peaceful twilight, 
 Still pledging our fond love, will go to rest. 
 
 Oh that I never, never had fled from thee ! 
 Ah ! I have dreamed such loving things for thee 
 That I would do ; have felt my heart so full 
 Of tenderness, of sympathy and love, 
 All cherished as a hoarded treasure for thee ; 
 Have yearned so to requite thee for thy wrongs, 
 That all of life hath seemed to me too short
 
 SALOME. 119 
 
 For what love would have done for thee and me. 
 I would have planted roses which should spring 
 Beneath thy feet, and made thee a sweet bed 
 Of sweet forget-me-nots and violets ; 
 Ta en off thine annor when thou wert aweary, 
 And wakened thee with songs, thy slumbers 
 
 o er. 
 
 But now the journey s finished, and, alas ! 
 I have done naught for thee but make thee 
 
 mourn. 
 
 A cloud upon thy day, and, in thy night, 
 A haunting sadness Ah ! I know it, Sextus. 
 
 But these dear moments, which they make the 
 
 dearer, 
 
 Repay the sorrows of a weary life 
 Of waiting, fading hopes. Thou lovest me, 
 Hast ever loved me 
 
 Always, always, Sextus. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 And now 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 We will no more be parted, love. 
 But tell me
 
 120 SALOME. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Tell thee what ? How pale thou art ! 
 And worn and wasted ! My poor, suffering child. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 How wast thou made a prisoner ? By whom ? 
 
 I was with Titus at Antonia 
 Reviewing all the siege, when, suddenly, 
 I heard a mocking voice calling my name, 
 And taunting me with loss of thee in Britain. 
 It was Kaliphilus 
 
 Kaliphilus ! 
 And here ! 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 He was within the city, and I leaped, 
 Possessed but by one thought and wish for 
 
 vengeance, 
 
 Alone into the throng of armed Jews, 
 And through them, yielding, sought iny mock 
 ing foe, 
 
 Who, still retreating, drew me from the wall, 
 Until, assailed upon the bloody pavement 
 By the returning Jews under his guidance, 
 I slipped and fell. Thus overthrown, their blows
 
 SALOME. 121 
 
 Fell like a shower of stones upon me while 
 Defending still myself, as best I could, 
 And slaying many of them, till, at length, 
 My helmet was displaced, a well aimed blow 
 Drove Consciousness from its accustomed seat, 
 And, when it had its rightful throne regained, 
 I was a prisoner; Kaliphilus 
 My master. Presently some soldiers came 
 And brought me to this dungeon. Scarce two 
 
 hours 
 
 Have taken their dread record from the earth 
 Since I was placed here. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 By Kaliphilus! 
 
 Oh doth he haunt us still ? I thought him 
 hence. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 How didst thou find me, love ? Or art thou 
 
 here, 
 
 By fierce compulsion of some enemy, 
 A prisoner, like me ? 
 
 Compelled by love, 
 
 I came to thee most willingly. Just now 
 Was proclamation by a herald made 
 That thou wert prisoned in the Castle, and
 
 122 SALOME. 
 
 And that at dawn I should be crucified. 
 But be not troubled. Titus will not sleep 
 Until he shall take vengeance, for lie loves me. 
 And now, since I have thee and fain would live, 
 Hope tells me that, ere morn, we shall be free. 
 So let us think but of the happiness 
 Of these dear moments, each well worth a life. 
 
 Oh I am happy, Sextus, oh ! so blessed 
 In feeling thy dear arms again about me, 
 And once more resting here my weary head, 
 Which hath found rest upon no other pillow. 
 But dost thou know how could st thou hast 
 
 thou heard 
 That I m a Christian ? 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Yea, I know it, love. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And lovest me no less ? 
 
 No Jess, my own. 
 
 And art thou now most happy ? Is there naught 
 Could add unto thy bliss ?
 
 SALOME. 123 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 But one thing, love. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 And that is? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Could I know that thou, too, art 
 A Christian. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Then be blest, for so I am. 
 
 Thou art ! thou art ? The Lord in heaven 
 
 be praised. 
 
 How can I thank thee, Saviour merciful? 
 Accept the feeble wishes of my heart 
 To offer Thee some better service. Now 
 No harm can any more come to us. God, 
 The Lord of Israel, s a mighty tower 
 Which cannot be removed ; a city walled 
 In which the righteous dwell in safety. God, 
 The Lord of Israel, s a strong defense ; 
 With shield of mercy, sword of naming wrath, 
 He guardeth tenderly His children. God, 
 The Lord of Israel, will not forget, 
 And none may blind Him that He cannot see, 
 Nor stop His ears ; He sleepeth never. God, 
 The Lord of Israel, will try His saints,
 
 124 SALOME. 
 
 Yet cometh in their dire extremity 
 
 To manifest His constant love and jxr.ver. 
 
 But tell me, how thou didst become a Christian. 
 
 I will betimes ; but first recount to me 
 Thy story since that dreadful day in Britain. 
 Canst thou forgive me ? I so wronged thee 
 there. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Forgive thee, Sextus ? Fie ! the only wrong 
 Thou ever didst me was to ask me this. 
 
 Oh that I could enfold thee in my being, 
 Soul of my soul, and heart within my heart. 
 Where hast thou been ? Why could I find 
 thee not? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Kaliphilus bore me aboard his ship, 
 Where Thona and Bernice were already, 
 At once set sail, but, ere AVC reached a haven, 
 We, by a storm, were driven on the coast 
 Of Germany, made captive by the Germans, 
 All save Kaliphilus, who, cursing, fled 
 With cries and groans, as if tormenting fiends 
 Were driving him. His slave, an ugly thing, 
 Was bv them slain.
 
 SALOME. 125 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 May furies hunt him ever ! 
 
 O Sextus, be not unforgiving. 
 
 Canst thou forgive him ? 
 
 What? 
 
 Yea, I hope so, love. 
 Our captors brought us straightway to their 
 
 chief, 
 
 Who, smitten with distemper, helpless lay. 
 Benignant Mercy, at our intercession, 
 Restored him to his people strong in health. 
 Then were we held as envoys of their gods, 
 And kept so sacredly that no escape 
 Was open for us. Once, when Lepidus 
 Had almost rescued us, by chance they learned 
 His purpose, bore us to their sacred grove, 
 In depths of forests inaccessible, 
 And guarded us from all approach, save that 
 Of their own chief and priests and loving 
 
 people. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Friend Lepidus Id-ought me thy letter, sweet,
 
 126 SALOME. 
 
 And that first made me wish to know the 
 
 Christ. 
 
 I sought out Paul, a mighty preacher, then 
 In Rome, who kindly led me to His feet. 
 And Lepidus informed me how he found 
 And lost you in the wilds. How came you 
 
 thence ? 
 
 T was after many months, when wars had 
 
 drawn 
 
 The tribe upon our borders, that, one day 
 When warriors and women all had gone 
 On a foray into a Roman province, 
 Save some infirm old priests, we took our way 
 Unto the nearest Roman fortress. Long 
 
 O 
 
 And wearisome our march, guided alone 
 By stars at night, and hidden in the day. 
 We reached, at length, an outpost. There we 
 
 learned 
 
 That, with Vespasian in Palestine, 
 Thou, and good Lepidus, Avert in the field 
 Against the warring Jews. But one wish, then, 
 Possessed my soul, to see Jerusalem 
 Once more, and find thee here. 
 
 My faithful love.
 
 SALOME. 127 
 
 As best we could we made the journey thence 
 To Rome. Nor there we tarried, for a company 
 Of forces gave us escort strong to Tyre, 
 And thence we came unto Jerusalem, 
 Where we were told the army soon would be. 
 I went to kneel before the sepulchres 
 Of Christ and John the Baptist ; and, with tears 
 And many prayers and fastings, sought anew 
 Forgiveness, and fresh zeal, and greater love. 
 Soon I fell ill, and, ere sweet Health upreared 
 My prostrate form and led me from my couch, 
 The gates were closed. Sedition held misrule, 
 The Roman walls encompassed all the city, 
 Egress was none, nor safety anywhere. 
 
 Oh my poor, wearied dove, hast thou at length 
 Found this poor ark ? But it shall shelter thee 
 Until the floods o erwhelm it, or the storms 
 Drive it to wreck. How thou hast suffered, 
 
 love. 
 
 If we escape the dangers of this night, 
 As let us hope we shall, all will be well. 
 
 Ah ! it is fatal ! I shall not go hence. 
 His will be done.
 
 128 SALOME. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 What words are these ? What fears ? 
 What see st thou, love ? Why dost thou gaze 
 
 about 
 As if thine eyes would pierce the flinty walls ? 
 
 This is the dungeon where John Baptist died. 
 I knew it not till now. Oh t is decreed ! 
 My crime looks frowningly upon me. 
 
 Hush ! 
 
 Lift now thine eyes to heaven in faith and see 
 The merciful Redeemer smiles on thee. 
 
 Oh let Thy mercy pardon me that crime ; 
 Oh cleanse me, Saviour, Thou All-Pitying. 
 T was such a night so many years ago 
 And I am hither led but not by Chance. 
 Though Justice oft comes slowly, yet she 
 comes 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Away these sad forebodings ! Let s rejoice 
 That we are met ; and that we here are met. 
 Let it be sign of peace and joy to thee, 
 A proof of thine acquittal. Cheer thee, love.
 
 SALOME. 129 
 
 Enter a GUARD. 
 GUARD. 
 
 Come forth, Salome. Thou art ordered forth. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 What ! now ? So soon ? I cannot leave thee 
 
 stay. 
 
 Oh kiss me, Sextus, we shall surely meet. 
 Not long can we be separated now. 
 
 Ah ! will they tear thee from me ? Still a kiss, 
 My bliss on earth, and guide to heavenly bliss. 
 
 The Father s peace, passing all understanding ; 
 The Son s great love, redeeming from all error ; 
 The Spirit s comfort, healing every sorrow, 
 Be with, redeem, and comfort thee forever.
 
 A Chamber in the Castle. 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 WILL she flee from me now, as others do, 
 Though I approach not nor attempt to woo ? 
 Ah ! will she curse me ? Shall I now be left 
 Of this sole hope, my comfort sole, bereft ? 
 
 Enter GUARD, with SALOME. 
 
 [Exit GUARD 
 SALOME. 
 
 Kaliphilus ! 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Nay, do not fly t is vain. 
 Yet tremble not. I will not harm thee stay. 
 To none but thee can I my woes unfold. 
 What ! Thou dost fear me too, and dread, and 
 
 hate ? 
 
 All creatures do, and, as the ages roll 
 Shall they more fear, and hold me more in awe, 
 Till I shall fly them. No way can I turn 
 And feel one warming ray of sympathy. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 What can I do for thee?
 
 SALOME. 131 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Oh, thou canst ease 
 My agony. Let me but talk to thee, 
 Look on thee, hear thee speak, and know thy 
 
 heart 
 Doth not abhor me. 
 
 Ah ! I pity thee. 
 Thou knowest it already, and I pray 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Pray ? pray ! to whom ? for what ? for me ? 
 
 Oh fie ! 
 Pray not for me. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Then can I naught for thee. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I have so suffered ! I must suffer so ! 
 Unnumbered ages from the future roll, 
 Each moment of each age an endless hell ; 
 Each moment of the past an endless hell. 
 For lo ! I stand within my memory, 
 As in a prison-house of heated bronze, 
 Whose pictured walls, in red-hot characters, 
 Look on me, live, speak, move, and tear my 
 soul.
 
 132 SALOME. 
 
 Turn now thy thoughts to heavenly things, and 
 then 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 See how they throng ! I cannot name them. 
 
 All 
 Are clutching; at me, and in vain I flee. 
 
 ~ 
 
 For every crime and meanness of my life 
 Hath there a visage dread, or mocking grin, 
 And arms, like mists, to reach infinity, 
 And hands of heated steel which snatch my 
 
 soul, 
 
 And drag apart my brain, and rend my heart. 
 But, dreadfullest of all, the Eye that burns 
 In black, impenetrable Darkness, which 
 At all times moves before me, and from whence 
 A voice, which never speaks, forever says : 
 Bear on thy burden till I come again. 
 
 i-ALOMK. 
 
 But bear it penitently and with patience 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 And so to live forever, adding still 
 
 Each hour some devil crime, some haunting 
 
 thought, 
 Some serpent secret at my heart to gnaw,
 
 SALOME. 133 
 
 And wreathe its deadly coils about my brain, 
 To those which torture now. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 What shall I do? 
 How help thee ? Why complain to 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Why complain ? 
 
 Why do I humble thus myself to thee 
 As I will not before Omnipotence? 
 Because I love thee 
 
 Pray thee, let me go 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Because when thee I lose, I then must bear 
 In silence evermore my agonies, 
 Nor pity find, nor listening sympathy, 
 Affection none, nor aught but awe and dread. 
 I will not harm thee, nay, I dare not do it. 
 Should aught but reverent love for thee awake 
 In me, t would rouse ten thousand fiends to tear 
 And hunt me hence. So was I driven from 
 
 thee, 
 
 When, cast upon the shores of Germany, 
 I fled and left thee unprotected there.
 
 134 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 But I was cared for by Almighty Love. 
 
 KALIPHILDS. 
 
 And I was scourged by merciless tormentors. 
 I wandered through the savage wilds of Eu 
 rope, 
 Through northern realms of Asia, where the 
 
 snows, 
 
 On down-bent branches resting of low trees, 
 Make them appear the tents of Winter s hosts 
 Encamped, and waiting for the signal trump 
 Of storms, reposing, which shall lead them 
 
 south 
 
 To ravage and to reign. And there I hoped, 
 By frosts congealed, to grow insensible, 
 And feel no more my doom. A lying hope ! 
 Nor cold congeals, nor heat can melt my flesh. 
 I swore to end myself, defied my Judge 
 
 Oh spare me, I would hear no more, unless 
 Thou dost repent, and this is thy confession 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 And, walking still, I reached the Eastern bound 
 Of the broad continent, where yet no foot, 
 Save that of savage beast, or man more savage,
 
 SALOME. 135 
 
 Had ever trod. But there I stayed not. On 
 Into the sea I fain would go, that there 
 Its raging waves or monsters should destroy me. 
 But all in vain. I walked the waters as 
 I had the mountains and the vales of snow, 
 Till, cursing the Omnipotence which held 
 Me thus a miracle upon the surge, 
 And plunging madly on the unopening waves 
 To force an ingress, shrieking blasphemies, 
 And hurling fierce defiance at His Throne, 
 Upon a sudden fell a lightning bolt, 
 Which opened under me a yawning gulf, 
 And to the ocean s farthest depths I sank. 
 The waters over me joined with a roar 
 As of a thousand thunders met in battle, 
 And shut me from the hated light of heaven. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Dost thou invent a tale ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Nay, in good sooth. 
 
 Still could I see, still hear, and on the dark 
 And oozy bottom of the ocean walk 
 As on dry land. No swimming fish e er 
 
 breathed 
 
 The watery element more free than I. 
 A murmur strikes upon my startled ear,
 
 136 SALOME. 
 
 Increasing ever, growing terrible, 
 Surrounding me, and coining ever nearer. 
 And now I see the monsters of the deep 
 Approaching. From each side all living things 
 Which swim the flood, crawl from its poison 
 ous slime, 
 
 In its dark caverns lurk, or lie in wait 
 Behind its weedy crags, in horrid phalanx 
 Come round and over me, and roar, and hiss, 
 And shriek : with fins, and claws, and out 
 stretched tongues, 
 
 And long arms point at me, and still the noise 
 More hideous grows, and seems to scream the 
 
 words, 
 
 Cro faster, Jew ; go faster. Vainly now 
 Would I mount up and reach the solid earth. 
 I could not rise. The waters over me 
 Pressed like the world on fabled Atlas shoul 
 ders. 
 
 SALOMK. 
 
 And didst thou then repent? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I scorned the thought. 
 
 Upon the bottom still I walked, and walked, 
 In agony unspeakable, while dread 
 And loathing, deathly pains, and awe 
 Convulsed me. Still they drove me on, nor 
 ceased
 
 SALOME. 137 
 
 To point at me, and leer, and lash, and sting, 
 And shriek, and hiss, and roar in hideous chorus, 
 G-O faster, Jetv ; go faster. On, still on, 
 Through fearful valleys, over caverned hills, 
 By shuddering sea-groves whence new horrors 
 
 crawled, 
 
 Each, all, from every side, joining the hunt, 
 I passed, nor rested, nor could rest, nor stop, 
 A time which seemed ten centuries of woe. 
 At last I climbed a long and steep ascent, 
 The light grew greener, paler, brighter, and 
 The watery fiends began to disappear. 
 Then, presently, I mounted to the air, 
 And stood alone on land, where from my feet 
 The ocean westward rolled, and, going down, 
 The Sun upon a watery bed reposed. 
 
 Where wert thou ? In what land ? 
 
 KALIl HILUS. 
 
 That knew I not. 
 
 Had I been driven darkling through the deep 
 Around the Earth s remotest southern cape 
 To stand again on Europe s western shore ? 
 It could not be, for I had wandered o er 
 That coast from north to south, and naught 
 was here
 
 138 SALOME. 
 
 E er seen by me before. The sun s slant rays 
 
 A myriad of tiny stars received 
 
 Set in the firmament of purest snow, 
 
 Which covered all the land. I southward 
 
 turned, 
 And wandered on in haste still southward, 
 
 southward, 
 
 Through climes which ever grew more genial, 
 Until in tropic heats I stood. The Sun 
 Above me drove his glowing course athwart 
 The zenith. All around me strange flowers 
 
 bloomed, 
 
 Such as, in Paradise, our parents saw. 
 And birds, which looked like flying flowers, 
 
 rejoiced 
 
 In every tone of music. Beasts, unseen 
 Till then by me, there reveled in wild life, 
 But left their prey, their quarrels, and their 
 
 sports 
 
 To join in one discordant chorus, howling, 
 As me they chased, Cro faster, Jew ; go faster. 
 The reptiles hissed and roared, Go faster, Jew, 
 The birds, from dark clouds, screamed, Gro 
 
 faster, Jew. 
 
 On, on I went, the Sun his daily course 
 To northward guiding more and more each day, 
 And temperate warmth succeeded tropic heats. 
 By cloud-capped mountains, through vast plains 
 , and meadows,
 
 SALOME. 139 
 
 Across deep rivers, whose wide floods appeared 
 Like broad and endless lakes, in which the tides 
 Flowed but one way in never ceasing currents, 
 I passed, till Frost o er snows and realms of ice 
 Held constant sway, and breathed on all his cold. 
 And now the sun drove swiftly through the 
 
 north. 
 
 I back returned to where I first set foot 
 Upon this new world ; thence, across the main, 
 To shores of Asia and the old world came. 
 Whence, through more southern climes, to 
 
 Germany 
 I went in search of thee 
 
 Forget, I beg 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 ~I sooner could forget my doom than thee 
 Who caused it. Thence I traced thee slowly 
 
 hither. 
 When death shall summon thee beyond my 
 
 reach 
 
 To that new world will I return, and bear, 
 As Jupiter Europa o er the sea 
 The story is by Grecian poets told 
 Some fair companion, and these wilds shall be 
 Peopled by us with wanderers like me. 
 Oh I 11 beget a cursed and rebel race
 
 1 40 SALOME. 
 
 Oh. let me go. I pray thee, let me go. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Salome, for this hour I Ve waited years. 
 Be not unkind. The only rest I hope 
 Until, in judgment, He shall come again, 
 Is talking thus with thee. Come to this window. 
 Behold these wretches fly the boon I crave. 
 
 CHORUS icithout ; PKIESTS, in sackcloth passing. 
 
 Help, Lord. 
 
 The storms increase ! 
 
 Will anger never cease ? 
 
 Deals Justice now the stern award ? 
 
 Out of the depths, O Lord, we call. 
 
 The billows over us ! 
 
 They cover us ! 
 
 We fall ! 
 
 [Exeunt PRIESTS. 
 Enter JEWS, flying. 
 CHORUS without, JEWS. 
 
 Pursued ! pursued of God ! 
 Ah ! No escape ! 
 At His almighty nod 
 . Lo ! wrath, in fiery shape, 
 From His pavilion dark 
 Rides forth and shakes the ground
 
 SALOME. 
 
 By its dread going, hark ! 
 
 With hiss and swoop and thunder sound 
 
 It cometh! fly! Oh fly! 
 
 Red vengeance rushes on us from the sky ! 
 
 [Exeunt JEWS, flying. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Is this a time to woo and tell me tales 
 When thou couldst aid thy wretched country 
 men ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Aid but by killing, curse by guarding life. 
 They know not what they fear, nor what they 
 
 wish. 
 
 The Almighty surely laughs to see the fools 
 So blindly fleeing sure relief from torture. 
 Now is their fear, now their calamity. 
 Js this a time to woo ? I tell thee, woman, 
 All times to me are like. Now must I woo 
 While I can make thee listen to me. When 
 Thou shalt have passed unto the realms of rest, 
 Naught shall remain for me, until He come, 
 But to be great as was my daring, ay, 
 And like a devil bear my punishment, 
 Meet for a devil, walking to and fro, 
 And up and down the earth in haught en 
 durance. 
 
 The agony that breaks and crushes me 
 Down like an ^Etna, wrath of the Infinite,
 
 142 SALOME. 
 
 Shall find no voice, nor shall I more complain, 
 But vent my anguish in great deeds of spite ; 
 Desiring all things, friendship, enmity, 
 Love without awe, and hatred without dread, 
 Ay, parents, brothers, sisters, children, youth, 
 The sweet and natural coming on of age, 
 And wounds, and sickness unto death, death, 
 
 death, 
 
 All, any thing which might make me a man 
 Like others among men, and all in vain. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Thou may st be loved ; do good, be kind and 
 true. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 The dupe of many, the desire of few. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Let Conscience tell thee that thou hast done 
 well. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I care not what the bigot Conscience tell. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Instead of ill, plot good, if plot thou will. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 T is His decree that evil I plot still.
 
 SALOME. 140 
 
 I am accursed all, save my love for thee, 
 Which is divine, so from the curse is free. 
 When once that love is taken from my heart, 
 I shall be cursed and devilish every part. 
 
 But I have prayed for thee, shall pray for thee. 
 Bernice, too 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Bernice ! 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Thou st not asked 
 For her. 
 
 KALirHILUS. 
 
 I loved her once. Oh, she was fair, 
 When in her native valley I beheld her, 
 The fairest blooming flower of womanhood. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 But she is dead. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I know it. 
 
 Died to-day. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I know it.
 
 144 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 In the city hero. 
 
 KALIPIIILUS. 
 
 I know it. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 She bade me say that she had ever loved thee. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Tell me not of it. What ! will thou smite too ? 
 Is she not with the rest pursuing me ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Since I can naught for thee, oh send me hence. 
 
 KALIPIIILUS. 
 
 But thou canst aught for me. Give me one kiss. 
 Oh, shrink not from this prayer. Give me one 
 
 kiss. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 A kiss of charity thou askest not: 
 A kiss of love to thee I cannot give. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 What! Shall I take it? Know that thou art 
 
 mine, 
 A prisoner. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And hast thou dared to woo 
 And talk of love to one thou hast beguiled
 
 SALOME. 145 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Nay, come, forget that, by his subtlety, 
 
 Love brought thee here to throne thee in my 
 
 life. 
 
 This rule queen absolute, as Rome the world. 
 Be not Mount Zion, beauty of the earth, 
 Obdurate, trembling in the arms of force. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Cease, cease, thy words are vain. I hear thee 
 not. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 But thou must hear, Salome ; I must speak. 
 
 The dignity of man s true love compels 
 
 A hearing. Brief my speech. I coin no words 
 
 To jingle sweetly. Baby loves may choose 
 
 A wordy effervescence ; I will pour 
 
 The unstirred liquor, clear and deep and strong. 
 
 I love thee 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 If thou lov st me let me go. 
 So shalt thou prove thy love. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Thou shalt not go. 
 
 With me is Love no coward. Men for love 
 Dare death. My love dares greater things and 
 worse. 
 
 10
 
 146 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Approach me not lest pity turn to scorn. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 The oil of that sharp scorn feedeth the fire 
 Which heateth me, and setteth it to flame. 
 Ah ! I will have thee, thy disdain, thy pride ; 
 For thou shalt be all mine, yea, every sigh 
 I 11 seize escaping from thy parted lips 
 As would a conqueror escaping men 
 From citadels on fire. Cold as thou art 
 With haughtiness, I 11 make thee glow with 
 
 love, 
 And sigh, and weep ; for tears shall from thee 
 
 fall 
 
 As sho^rs, for very heat, in summer; yea, 
 I 11 woo, I 11 swear, I 11 promise like a lover. 
 Thou shalt be mistress, queen, ay, empress, 
 
 more, 
 
 Most difficult of all, thou shalt rule me, 
 Kaliphilus un conquered. I will know 
 No difference betwixt thy flesh and mine, 
 Save that thine own s immeasurably dearer. 
 Yea, saw I Hades in thy dark eye s depths, 
 And waves of fire where glow thy haughty lips, 
 I would embrace thee. But thine eye is heaven, 
 Thy mouth a fount of nectar. Yield thee, 
 
 yield.
 
 SALOME. 147 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 If thou art man, thou wilt no more offend 
 My sense with words unseemly ; if thou art 
 
 brute, 
 
 Thy words are roarings, made but to express 
 The rage of passion. Talkest thou of love ? 
 Thou hast no symptom of that sweet disease. 
 Thou canst not know it for thou dost not feel it : 
 It is the malady of noble natures. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Old Antony, to win his cup of love, 
 Dissolved an empire in t, and drank it down, 
 And felt more life glow through his swelling 
 
 veins 
 
 In one swift moment of that thrilling draught 
 Than in a thousand years of kingly rule. 
 I would outdo him, for mV love is greater. 
 
 */ O 
 
 I go not hence without thee. Pray thee, yield. 
 
 I will not. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 If thou stay, thou here shalt perish, 
 For Simon holds thee on the capital charge 
 That thou art Christian. 
 
 This by thy contriving.
 
 148 SALOME. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Be mine, I 11 save thee ; and, for thy dear sake 
 I will save Sextus 
 
 I will ne er be thine. 
 
 Avaunt ! fell schemer. T is thine ancient snare. 
 To save my Sextus life I did such wrong 
 As Heaven weeps at ; hence come all my woes. 
 To save my father s life again did wrong. 
 I can do so no more. God s will be done. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 If thou yield not, then take I thee by force. 
 
 Lift not thine hand upon me. For the Lord 
 
 Omnipotent, in mercy infinite, 
 
 Is infinite in wrath. Look to thyself. 
 
 He will protect all those that trust in Him. 
 
 Thy words are daring ; let thy words suffice. 
 
 Thou durst not, by thine acts, profane His 
 image. 
 
 Thou durst not, by thine acts, defy my trust 
 
 In Him. He s ever near me. Fear His ven 
 geance. 
 
 Shrink back in shame that thou would st un 
 dertake
 
 SALOME. 149 
 
 An act of meanness which the devils would 
 
 scorn. 
 Ay, to thy knees 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 To pray thee pardon me 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And ask His pardon whom thou would st offend. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Her power of virtue awes my daring soul. 
 Yet will I have, subject her, and control. 
 
 Enter SIMON and attendants. 
 
 Behold ! a dread portent is in the sky ! 
 In middle heavens a blazing sword is hung 
 Above the city, lengthening ever down. 
 Like a whole world in conflagration burns, 
 Over the Temple in the western sky, 
 A comet, and its flames, athwart the pole, 
 In lurid brightness stream. Stars fall in show 
 ers, 
 
 Although the blood-red sun be not yet set, 
 As if the Almighty s breath, a raging storm, 
 Shook them mature from their empyreal stems. 
 O come, behold it. Tell us what it means.
 
 150 SALOME. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Return her to the dungeon ; guard her well. 
 
 [SALOME is led out. 
 I 11 go with thee, and what I can will tell.
 
 A Dungeon. 
 
 SEXTUS and SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 KALIPHILUS hath ta en us in his net. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 But Titus surely shall undo his cunning. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Let s trust in Him who only can redeem. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Oh could I see the lances of my legion ! 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Let thoughts of vengeance enter not thy soul. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 When hither brought a prisoner, I repined 
 That so my life must end, which should have 
 
 failed 
 Or in the battle-field, or in thine arms ;
 
 152 SALOME. 
 
 Yet had, with sweet contentment, welcomed 
 
 death. 
 
 But since thou earnest to me, as the angel 
 Deliverer to the Apostle came, 
 The chains Despondency had wrought upon 
 My limbs have fallen ; what was dark is light. 
 I doubly am content to live, and Hope 
 Spreads her bright wings and buoys my spirit 
 
 up- 
 
 Enter THONA. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 The guards permit, oh let me stay with thee. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Rash children ! have ye come to die with me ? 
 
 Enter CHORUS, Christians. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Behold! 
 
 In arms of gold 
 
 Squadrons and hosts of soldiers move 
 
 Upon embanked clouds above 
 
 The western sun ; 
 
 And chariots run 
 
 To battle in the sky ; 
 
 And conquered myriads fly 
 
 From flaming cities falling ; 
 
 About them clouds with blood orow red, 
 
 o *
 
 SALOME. 153 
 
 Like a well foughten field 
 Where hosts on hosts are fiercely led, 
 The lookers-on appalling. 
 And engines wield 
 The huge artillery of war, 
 And smite the crumbling towers from far. 
 The people mute with terror stand, 
 The useless brand falls from the nerveless 
 hand. 
 
 Enter MARAH. 
 
 Why stay ye here ? The guards with fear are 
 
 faint, 
 
 And, to behold portents upon the clouds, 
 Have left their posts unguarded. Up I away ! 
 What, know ye not, ye both in the same snare 
 Are taken, and are held for present death ? 
 Kaliphilus with Simon hath conspired 
 Against your heads. By seeming to accede, 
 As an accomplice in their wicked plot, 
 I know of what I speak. Fly, fly at once. 
 The way is open. Seek your hiding place. 
 Delay not. Look that ye shall leave no trace 
 For their blood-hounds to follow. Once more 
 
 free, 
 For succor and for safety trust to me.
 
 154 SALOME. 
 
 O Sextus, fly, and Thona shall conduct thee, 
 Cinder God s guidance, to a place of safety. 
 Once there, consult ye further. I will stay, 
 And thus, perchance, their hot pursuit delay. 
 
 Nay, thou shalt not 
 
 Be governed now by me, 
 
 And thou shalt free me when thou shalt be 
 free. 
 
 T is better thus, would ye the current stem 
 Of rolling dangers 
 
 Dear love, go with them. 
 
 Why wilt thou linger ? Men for reason slow, 
 For swift wit women. Haste thee, let us go. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Come thou, Salome, I will find a sword
 
 SALOME. 155 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 One sword, e en thine, against this raging 
 
 horde I 
 T is mine to care for her. Nay, leave her, 
 
 come. 
 
 What ! leave thee, child ? What, leave thee, 
 
 my own love ? 
 
 What ! I, a man, a soldier, leave my love 
 Here in this den of wolves to escape myself? 
 It cannot be. Go thou, or I go not. 
 
 Nay, Sextus, trust to Marah. Her sharp wit 
 Shall like a sharp tooth gnaw the hunter s net 
 And set the lion free ; and, when thou art free, 
 Then use thy manly strength and soldier s skill 
 To free me also. So shall both be saved. 
 It is my wish. O Sextus, I entreat 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 What shall I do? 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 Haste, ere the guards return. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 So leave thee, so desert
 
 156 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 So rescue me. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Love hath so riveted mine arms about thee 
 I cannot let thee go. 
 
 MARAH 
 
 Art thou a Roman ? 
 Thy women would upbraid and cry thee shame. 
 
 Go, Sextus, go ; soon shall we meet again. 
 It is thy duty, Sextus. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 One more kiss. 
 
 I go because thou will st it still a kiss, 
 And if it be the last one 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 Haste thee, haste. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Farewell, Salome. Oh, I am ashamed 
 
 To leave thee thus. Be of good courage, love. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 God bless thee, Sextus ; now thou lovest me.
 
 SALOME. 157 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 I go, my own love, but to rescue thee. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Go, all, my children ; tarry not, but fly. 
 
 [Exeunt SEXTUS, MAKAH, THONA, and CHOKUS. 
 
 It may suffice for all if I should die.
 
 A Hall in the Castle. 
 
 SIMON, OFFICERS, GUARDS, and ATTENDANTS. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 BRING here the prisoners. 
 
 [Exeunt FIRST OFFICER and some GUARDS. 
 We 11 question them ; 
 Arraign Salome on the capital charge 
 That she is Roman, and hath been concealed, 
 The spy of Titus and confederate, 
 Within the city ; then, with show of mercy, 
 Entice from her all knowledge, which she owns, 
 Of Roman dispositions and affairs ; 
 And when she shall have won the promised 
 
 grace 
 
 By so accepting our so proffered terms, 
 Betraying to us all her master s plans, 
 Shall it be proven that she is a Christian, 
 And hostile to our state and our religion, 
 A plotter for the nation s overthrow, 
 And, for these practices, shall be condemned, 
 And with her Sextus, to be crucified. 
 
 Enter FIRST OFFICER and GUARDS, with SALOME. 
 
 But where is Sextus ?
 
 SALOME. 159 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. 
 
 Sextus hath escaped. 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. 
 
 Escaped ! 
 
 Escaped, my Lord. 
 
 Go, take his guards, 
 
 And cast them headlong to the Romans. Halt ! 
 See that thou take them to the highest tower 
 And cast them thence. 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. 
 
 My Lord, it shall be done. 
 
 [Exeunt FIRST OFFICER and some GUARDS. 
 SIMON. 
 
 Call out thy men, and search the city through, 
 Discover Sextus, or see me no more. 
 
 [Exit SECOND OFFICER. 
 
 Salome, it is known thou art a Roman, 
 And that thou hast within the city been 
 Concealed, the spy of our detested foes, 
 The spring of their obduracy and spite. 
 
 T is true, I have within the city dwelt,
 
 160 SALOME. 
 
 Constrained, like others, by the unyielding siege, 
 Yet peacefully ; nor with affairs of state 
 Nor war s great questions have I mingled, but, 
 As best I could, have succored the distressed. 
 
 The mercy shown to Hebrews who escape, 
 And flee unto the Romans, should we show. 
 Look from the wall, behold on every tree 
 A Jewish body crucified. The vales 
 Are pestilent with odors from the corpses 
 Of Jews ripped up that Roman soldiers in them 
 Might seek for plunder ; and the air is full 
 Of sighs, and groans, and supplications, cries 
 Of agony, and sounds of swinging scourges. 
 
 I know the scene is dreadful, yea, I know it. 
 Ah ! would that I could stay such cruel deeds ! 
 But I can only pray that wars may cease. 
 
 That thou art Roman is thy condemnation. 
 The more since it appears that thou didst aid 
 The prisoner Sextus to escape 
 
 Alas ! 
 I could not aid him.
 
 SALOME. 161 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Knowest thou who did ? 
 Why answerest thou not? Speak out. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 I know. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 And whither he hath fled ? 
 
 How could I know 
 Since I went not with him ? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Question thou not. 
 
 And wert thou privy to his purpose ? Speak, 
 Knew st thou where he would go ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 I heard them say. 
 
 Then tell us quickly. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Nay. I may not tell. 
 
 11
 
 162 SALOME. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Know st thou the names of those who helped 
 him hence ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 I know them. 
 
 What are they? 
 
 I may not tell. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Beware ! beware ! Now makest thou thyself 
 Confederate with them. Look thou, Salome, 
 It is our purpose to deal gently with thee. 
 Although the charge, that thou art Roman here, 
 Now stands confessed, it shall not work thee 
 
 harm 
 
 If thou wilt but inform us what thou knowest 
 Of Sextus, and of those who took him hence, 
 And of the plans and forces of the Romans. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 The plans and forces of the Romans are 
 To me unknown. I came not here to war, 
 Nor to engage in stratagems and wiles. 
 
 But thou canst tell us of the plot to rescue
 
 SALOME. 103 
 
 Our prisoner ; who was the chief contriver, 
 And who the assistants. So shalt thou escape 
 The penalty due to thy presence here. 
 
 I would not so escape. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Dost thou refuse ? 
 
 I do. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Think well. For now these many years 
 The Romans are our masters and instructors. 
 And they have taught us all the arts of tor 
 ment. 
 
 Its bloody characters are writ upon 
 Our bodies till we are its library, 
 And ne er magician had so dreadful books. 
 Now, like ambitious youths just from the school, 
 We burn for fit occasion to employ 
 The skill we ve learned upon our skillful 
 
 teachers. 
 
 We thirst to be revenged, in kind, upon 
 The Romans. Be not thou the victim first 
 Who shall encounter all this raffino- thirst.
 
 164 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 I cannot tell thee aught that thou would st 
 know. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Yea, thou canst tell us whither Sextus fled. 
 
 I may not. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 May not? May not? Wilt not. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Will not. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Then shall thine obstinacy cost thee dear. 
 Thou art a Christian : canst thou this deny ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 I am a Christian. 
 
 By thine impious acts 
 
 The city is accursed, and shall be ruined, 
 Unless a punishment, meet for thy crimes, 
 Be brought upon thee ; or a sacrifice 
 Be made atonement for thy forfeit life. 
 If thou shalt guide our search to Sextus, and 
 The traitors who have rescued him, thy life
 
 SALOME. 165 
 
 Shall be redeemed by theirs, and thou shalt go 
 In freedom to the Romans. Wilt thou so ? 
 
 I will not. Naught that human power may do 
 Can save this city. Know that it must fall ; 
 But not by acts of Christians. Their great Head 
 Pronounced its doom for manifold transgres 
 sions, 
 And when ye see it come to pass, believe. 
 
 Thou hast condemned thyself; for ye, to prove 
 Prophetic power of that Impostor now 
 Would cause fulfillment of His prophecy, 
 E en by destruction of this holy city. 
 But thou shalt not escape due punishment, 
 Yet shalt discovery make of that vile treason 
 Which lurketh in our midst, and hath pre 
 vailed 
 
 To snatch this Sextus from the grasp of ven 
 geance. 
 
 But Vengeance hath long arms and many hands, 
 And many ears, and many eyes that sleep not. 
 Return, and in thy dungeon see prepared 
 The torture which shall draw thy secrets out. 
 Ay, thou shalt cry those secrets out so loud, 
 The Roman camp shall hear itself betrayed.
 
 166 SALOME. 
 
 And, that no point of anguish be o erlooked, 
 
 I will, myself, be executioner, 
 
 And I will question thee upon the rack. 
 
 I have a fecund and a ready wit 
 
 Which shall not fail, though ne er so strongly 
 
 locked, 
 
 To ope the doors of that defiant castle 
 Where thou dost guard thy hidden, guilty 
 
 knowledge. 
 
 CHORUS without, Jews. 
 
 Woe ! woe ! Alas ! 
 
 Alas ! We are undone ! 
 
 The sacrifice hath failed ! 
 
 The daily sacrifice is ended ! 
 
 The blood of priests and foemen blended ! 
 
 The holiest place assailed ! 
 
 Lo ! Vengeance is begun ! 
 
 Woe ! woe I Alas ! 
 
 Woe ! woe ! Alas ! 
 
 Howl Kedron, Olivet. 
 
 Storms raise your wailing voices high, 
 
 O Earthquakes, rend the garment of the earth. 
 
 O Mountains, give your burning torrents birth. 
 
 Winds, shriek forth woes, and shrieking fly; 
 
 For Mercy s sun is set. 
 
 Woe ! woe ! Alas I
 
 SALOME. 167 
 
 Enter FIRST OFFICER. 
 SIMON. 
 
 What means this new outcry ? 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. 
 
 The sacrifice, 
 
 The daily sacrifice, hath failed. In terror 
 The people rend their garments and bewail. 
 
 Why hath it failed? 
 
 FIRST OFFICER. 
 
 Since John hath held the Temple, 
 He with his zealots, as thou knowest well, 
 Hath driven thence the priests, all sacrilege 
 Hath compassed, till no men remain to make 
 The offering 
 
 Enter SECOND OFFICER. 
 SIMON. 
 
 And what news bringest thou? 
 
 o 
 SECOND OFFICER. 
 
 A herald from the Roman camp demands 
 A parley with thee. 
 
 We will see him straight.
 
 168 SALOME. 
 
 Return the prisoner to the dungeon ; there 
 Make ready torments ; guard her till I come. 
 
 [Exeunt OFFICER and GUARDS, with SALOME. 
 
 Now to the wall to hear the Romans talk, 
 Observe their wiles, and study them to halk.
 
 Summit of a Tower. 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I AM entangled in the web I weave. 
 I shall but miss the mark which I would pierce 
 By bending that obdurate Simon. Help, 
 O Father of all Lies, help me invent. 
 Should I not lift some counterpoise, and check 
 The mounting zeal and palace-ward ambition 
 Of that dupe Simon, he will surely thwart 
 My purpose, moving forward to its goal 
 With steady pace ; for he will slay Salome 
 To purchase, as he thinks, the Victory, 
 And so securely sit upon the throne. 
 Thus the one changeless aim of all my life 
 Shall shoot awry. But she must yet be mine 
 For love, or for revenge, as she shall choose. 
 Oh, she shall pay me for the woe she s caused. 
 Oh, she shall lighten, for one hour, my curse, 
 Since she alone hath placed it on my life. 
 But for this star, an aimless wanderer
 
 170 SALOME. 
 
 Through Chaos tenfold raging should I drive, 
 A wreck that cannot sink that cannot sink ! 
 I will to John, and with some ready tale 
 Make him my dupe and ally. Oh, the fools ! 
 The cursing spirit moves in me again, 
 And I must cry (calling}, Woe to the city! 
 woe! 
 
 Enter SIMON. 
 SIMON. 
 
 Did st hear that cry ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 What cry? 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Woe to the city ! 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Yea. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 What bodes it? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Some wretch by hunger crazed 
 Sees in himself the city all accursed. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 I came to seek thee, for the Romans now
 
 SALOME. 1 . 1 
 
 Demand a parley, and I fain would know 
 What I shall answer. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Yield them not a whit, 
 Whate er they ask. Defy them, and be firm.
 
 An open Place outside the Wall of Jerusalem. 
 
 ROMAN SOLDIERS, at ease. 
 
 CHORUS, Roman Soldiers. 
 
 Now rest. 
 
 In the west 
 
 Phoebus is sinking in blood. 
 
 O 
 
 Redder and redder he grows 
 
 As he goes 
 
 Plunging adown the red flood. 
 
 And Diana with fear 
 
 Starts from her couch, forgetting her veil, 
 
 And turns pale 
 
 To see her lord so disappear. 
 
 And the stars, 
 
 In glittering hosts following Mars, 
 
 Lift their spear points for lights 
 
 On Olympus battlement heights, 
 
 And gaze down the Hesperian steeps 
 
 Where Phoebus still sinks in the deeps. 
 
 From the east swift rushes the Night, 
 
 O * 
 
 Her visage all pale with affright ; 
 
 And the winds, 
 
 Like fleet-footed hinds
 
 SALOME. 173 
 
 Coursing over cerulean hills, 
 
 From their swift course refrain ; 
 
 Upright is lifted each misty mane 
 
 At the premonition of ills 
 
 In the west. 
 
 Rest, comrades, rest. 
 
 Now rest 
 
 While a test, 
 
 To know if the gods be propitious, 
 
 Or if by beings malicious 
 
 Our fate is controlled, 
 
 The soothsayers hold. 
 
 And each to the gods an oblation 
 
 Shall pour, 
 
 That no more, 
 
 By this accursed nation, 
 
 Our arms shall suffer defeat. 
 
 No more we retreat. 
 
 For this night, 
 
 We swear by the light, 
 
 And the crest, 
 
 And the virgin breast 
 
 Of Diana, queen of the bow, 
 
 That we 11 hunt to their dens, 
 
 To their deadliest pens 
 
 Where their bloodiest treacheries grow, 
 
 To their eyries steep,
 
 174 SALOME. 
 
 To their caverns deep, 
 
 This surly, serpent-like, swooping foe ; 
 
 While every blow 
 
 Shall be a Roman s best. 
 
 Rest, comrades, rest. 
 
 Enter JOSEPHUS and ATTENDANTS. 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Retire, my friends, retire, and give us place. 
 
 [Exeunt SOLDIERS. 
 
 O God of David, give my cause success. 
 
 Enter on the wall, SIMON and ATTENDANTS. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 What would the Romans? Who shall speak 
 for Titus ? 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 T is I, Josephus. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Craven, art thou there ? 
 T is easy to foretell what shall be said 
 When traitors are the spokesmen. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 I am here 
 
 To speak the words of Titus ; not to rail, 
 Or answer railings. Hear ye : If so be 
 That ye are bent maliciously to fight,
 
 SALOME. 175 
 
 Come out with John ; heal your accursed sedi 
 tions, 
 
 And, with united forces, in the field 
 Engage the Romans. So shall ye preserve 
 The city and the Temple, nor offend, 
 More than ye have, the God of Ahraham 
 By the defilement of His holy house. 
 And so the sacrifice, which now hath ceased, 
 Again may burn ; for whomsoe er ye choose 
 Shall worthy be esteemed to offer it. 
 
 Entice us not. Thy words are an offense. 
 For who can hear him speak that counts his life 
 In slavery to be preferred to death ? 
 Deserter, traitor, coward, dost thou think 
 That we shall listen to thy craven counsel ? 
 Or that we fear destruction of the city? 
 Or that the Almighty cannot guard His house ? 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Thine indignation at me is most just. 
 
 I merit treatment worse than thou canst tender, 
 
 Since here I strive to press deliverance 
 
 On those whom God already hath condemned. 
 
 Oh surely have ye kept the city pure ! 
 
 Oh surely is the Temple undefiled ! 
 
 Still offered is the dailv sacrifice !
 
 176 SALOME. 
 
 Oh, wretched cheat, dost thou then hope that 
 
 God 
 Whom ye have robbed of His pure worship ; 
 
 whose 
 
 Pure Temple ye, with every crime, pollute ; 
 Whose priests ye ve slain, e en in the holy place, 
 Will aid you so to carry on the war, 
 In which such things are done, till ye shall 
 
 triumph ? 
 
 Behold ! The city is hemmed in, and ye 
 Are prisoners. The wall, impassable, 
 Invests your hosts, and Caesar is their keeper. 
 Within, his allies daily are at work 
 To mine your stubbornness, and bring you down. 
 For Famine hath a guard in every house 
 Sedition holds the streets, and Pestilence 
 Commands the gates ; while Conflagration sits 
 Above the Temple with his flames in leash. 
 Antonia is Caesar s. Banks are built 
 And rise like threatening waves ; his engines, 
 
 placed, 
 
 Are like the storm-clouds on a heaving sea. 
 The ready storm shall burst. Oh, yield in time. 
 E en enemies and heathen now bemoan 
 The wretchedness that ye have brought upon 
 The city, and your sacrilegious crimes, 
 And for the shrine defiled their hot tears fall. 
 Oh, be persuaded, if ye will not do it,
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And suffer Titus to preserve the city, 
 Our holy Temple, and religious rites. 
 Lo ! Titus prays you to prevent the fire 
 Which hangs above the Temple to consume it. 
 
 Hast thou aught other message for mine ear ? 
 If not, thy coming and thy words are useless. 
 
 josF.nius. 
 
 Then on your own heads be the awful guilt. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Upon our heads and on our children s be it. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 I have another message for thine ear. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Speak briefly, then. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 The Roman general Sextus, 
 Within the walls allured, was slain, or taken 
 A prisoner. The city, too, contains 
 Salome, daughter of Herodias, 
 With certain of her friends and dear attendants. 
 If Sextus live, I come to ransom him. 
 
 12
 
 178 SALOME. 
 
 If he live not, I come to ask his body. 
 And, last, to ask that freely thou permit 
 Salome and her friends to leave the city. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Then hast thou come in vain. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 Do not refuse 
 To reckon thine own gain conceding this. 
 
 My gains are reckoned, and I hold them fast. 
 Return to Titus, beg him to restrain 
 His swift impatience till the morning dawn. 
 Then shall he find displayed upon the wall 
 The bodies which he seeks. 
 
 JOSEPHUS. 
 
 And wilt thou dare 
 His vengeance by their murder ? 
 
 Thou shalt see. 
 
 His vengeance is not terrible to me. 
 Give voice, ye trumpets, that no more we hear 
 The supplications of the coward Fear.
 
 In the Temple. 
 
 KALIPHILUS and JOHN. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I TELL thee Simon shall thy master be 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 The usurping robber ! Make such prophecies 
 To those who 11 hear them. Never, while I 
 
 live, 
 Can this be true, false prophet, his accomplice 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I tell thee Simon shall thy master be, 
 
 And king of all the Jews, unless I aid thee. 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Thou com st to tell me this ? A useless mis 
 sion. 
 
 How much hath Simon paid thee for this song ? 
 What ! thinkest thou that it shall make me shake, 
 Undo my courage, put my hopes to flight, 
 And overthrow the walls of my resolve ?
 
 180 SALOME. 
 
 Or hopest them to drain my treasury? 
 For how much would st thou sell thy proffered 
 aid? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Believe or disbelieve as facts shall prove. 
 My aid I proffer freely ; I but ask 
 That thou accept it and be ruled by me. 
 For I can point the way, which, if thou follow, 
 T is thou shalt mount above him and prevail. 
 
 Well, map it out ; and when it shall be seen, 
 I 11 tell thee whether thou shalt be my captain. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Know, then, that Simon holds a Roman captive. 
 A princess, who to-morrow shall be led 
 As t were to execution on the wall : 
 Thus shall the vengeful multitude consent 
 To let her pass. But, once upon the wall, 
 T is Simon s purpose to deliver her 
 To Titus, and her ransom to be paid, 
 As is already secretly agreed, 
 Shall be the sovereignty of this shamed people, 
 Under the Romans. Simon s forces then, 
 With Caesar s host united, shall compel 
 Obedience
 
 SALOME. 181 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 The traitorous villain ! 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Now, 
 If thou would st snatch this vantage from his 
 
 grasp, 
 Prepare a rescue secretly 
 
 And then 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Let chosen men be ready ere the dawn, 
 And thou shalt lead them ; thee will I direct. 
 And, that thou fail not, see thy force be strong. 
 They other prisoners have, for whom their care 
 Shall be thy ally ; for the General Sextus, 
 As thou hast heard, shall then be crucified. 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 And if I rescue her ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Then bring her straight 
 Into the Temple, place her in my guard, 
 And I will answer that she leave me not. 
 To Titus then, as thine ambassador, 
 Will I repair, obtain such terms for thee 
 As he hath pledged to Simon
 
 182 SALOME. 
 
 It is well, 
 
 And fairly hast thou spoken. T is agreed. 
 The men shall ready be, and of the best. 
 Where is this prisoner ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 In the castle dungeon. 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Let me but know the hour when she shall 
 
 leave it, 
 And I will fail thee not. How is she called? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Salome, daughter of Herodias.
 
 A Dungeon. 
 SALOME. 
 
 SALOME. 
 IN this dread dungeon, where I heard with joy 
 
 The holy teachings and the gentle voice 
 Of John the Baptist, let me now employ 
 
 Remaining strength to wonder and rejoice, 
 For mercy infinite, which doth not scorn 
 To stay and save me, wandering and forlorn. 
 
 Whatever trials Thou shalt think it meet 
 To send me, Saviour, let me not repine ; 
 
 But count myself most blessed, at Thy feet 
 To suffer for the joy of being Thine, 
 
 Adoring still the Pity and the Love 
 
 Which stoops to raise me to Thy home above. 
 
 My Father, in this scene of my great crime, 
 Oh make me as a little child again. 
 
 Make me forget the weary, sinful time, 
 That I have passed in penitence and pain. 
 
 As from his lips I heard his pardoning word, 
 
 So now by me Thy pardoning voice be heard.
 
 184 SALOME. 
 
 And as he died, let me prepare to die, 
 Forgiving all, and trusting in Thy grace, 
 
 That Thou wilt call me to Thyself on high, 
 And that I there again shall see his face, 
 
 Assured of pardon, saved, and sanctified, 
 
 Though worst of all for whom the Saviour died. 
 
 Enter THONA and CHORUS of Christians. 
 
 O friends, why come ye to the lion s lair ? 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 We come to share what may betide thee there. 
 
 But wot ye not our enemies prevail ? 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Should we in such an hour of trial fail? 
 
 It was a comfort to believe you fled. 
 
 CHOP.US. 
 Fly thou, and let us suffer in thy stead. 
 
 THONA. 
 
 I could not leave thee. I would die with thee.
 
 SALOME. 185 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Nay, it is fit I die, but ye should flee. 
 
 For if the Bridegroom with His train this night 
 Appear, shall we be scattered hence in flight ? 
 Shall we not, with. our lamps well trimmed, go 
 
 meet Him ? 
 With wedding garments on, go forth to greet 
 
 Him? 
 
 Arise, stand ready. If to-night our guide 
 Be taken from us, where shall we abide ? 
 
 Enter SEXTUS. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Ah ! I have come in time. The Lord be praised. 
 And they would torture thee 
 
 Oh ! Art thou crazed 
 
 Dear hands, untouched; those feet, this gentle 
 form 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 That thou defiest thus this fatal storm?
 
 186 SALOME. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 They would torment thee yet thou art un 
 harmed ? 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 For thee, alone, my heart is now alarmed. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 They d make thee me betray with tortured 
 breath. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And thou for this hast come to certain death? 
 
 Most gladly, if to save thee but one sigh. 
 
 f 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 My sighs so saved, who should sigh more than I ? 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 What pangs had I if I from thee had fled. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 And I, what sorrows thus to know thee dead. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Who takes me hence, shall hew me from thee, 
 love.
 
 SALOME. 187 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Together to His rest we shall remove. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Now, led by Love, let golden-winged Content 
 From its calm realm descend, and in its hands 
 Take these true hearts, by weary trials spent, 
 Through crystal portals lead them to blest lands, 
 Whose firm foundations no commotions jar, 
 Whose perfect joy no gloomy fate can mar.
 
 A Room in the Castle. 
 SIMON and MARAH. 
 
 NAY, but it may be done. Some one inspired 
 By love of country, pity for our people, 
 Could find the way to Caesar s tent, and there 
 Send his too moTinting spirit down to Hades. 
 The will and purpose, which now guides the 
 
 siege, 
 
 Should faint and die ; and all his army then, 
 Confused and terrified, should fall a prey 
 To well directed sallies from the wall. 
 
 Zeal, courage, vengeance, all inspire our men, 
 Whose deeds of daring make all others cowards. 
 And they as gladly would the venture make 
 As, starving now, they d rush unto a feast ; 
 Think him most happy whom I should permit 
 To undertake the deed. But it were vain. 
 No man could cross the boundaries of their 
 camp.
 
 SALOME. 189 
 
 What man cannot perchance a woman can. 
 As our own Judith ventured to the lair 
 Of Holofernes, and with his own brand 
 Slew him, and overthrew his conquering host ; 
 So some fair woman, daughter of her soul, 
 Might CaBsar slay and save this sinking nation. 
 
 But, in these days, who is there, brave and fair, 
 The peril of such enterprise to dare ? 
 
 I would not boast, yet fain would I essay 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Thou, foolish woman ! but to rue the day. 
 
 Nay, Simon, I can do it ; thine shall be 
 The glory of the deed ; enough for me 
 To seem but in thy hands the instrument 
 For this great action. Give me thy consent, 
 And I will pledge success. Oh, let me go 
 And save this people from this sea of woe. 
 
 How could st thou, feeble, reach his guarded tent ? 
 How do the deed on which thy soul is bent?
 
 190 SALOME. 
 
 Let forty chosen men of courage tried, 
 In whom discretion is with wit allied, 
 Attired as women in dark garbs of woe, 
 With forms low bent and long veils falling 
 
 low, 
 
 Go with me as the ministers of fate, 
 That I may seem attended by a state. 
 Then, as a princess, come to intercede 
 For justice, or for clemency to plead, 
 To offer peace, or ask peace-making truce, 
 Some favor beg, or argue some abuse, 
 Shall I be brought before him. There I 11 
 
 find 
 The occasion and the way to do my mind. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Such men I have ; such garments they might 
 
 wear. 
 But would st thou, truly, so much peril dare ? 
 
 Oh! would I dare it, Simon? For me, death 
 Is dearer now than is my hated breath. 
 And I was fair Oh would I had not been ! 
 Perchance by hope and noble thoughts within 
 This beauty may relighted be, and then, 
 As me it periled, shall it peril men.
 
 SALOME. 191 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 If Titus brave and generous shall prove 
 
 The fool that Fame reports him, grief shall 
 
 move 
 
 His soul e en more than beauty. In thine eye 
 A thousand dangerous provocations lie, 
 Which, seemingly disarmed by grief and pain, 
 Shall, unsuspected, their advantage gain. 
 
 If in the venture I shall nobly fall, 
 
 My noble death shall blot my failings all. 
 
 And, if success shall crown thee, then loud fame 
 Shall drown the whisperings of envious blame. 
 I know thou hast a firm and daring soul, 
 To mount for victory and reach the goal. 
 So go, and prosper. Here thou shalt await, 
 And presently I 11 hither bring thy state, 
 The men accoutred, ready to thy mind, 
 To help thee strongly bound as oaths can bind. 
 
 [Exit SIMON. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 A traitress, too ! What then ? No crime can 
 
 now 
 
 Add to my infamy, or plunge me deeper 
 In dark Gehenna. O Jerusalem,
 
 192 SALOME. 
 
 I do it for thy sake, beloved city, 
 
 And hers, lest others weakly do as I, 
 
 Like me constrained, and make thee a reproach, 
 
 Themselves accursed. Is treason then a crime, 
 
 If I betray thee for thy good and theirs ? 
 
 Deceit, when merciful, no more deceit 
 
 But mercy is, for holy beings meet. 
 
 Yet they shall call me traitress, say I sold 
 
 My faith, my nation, for more life, for gold, 
 
 For luxury oh ! luxury for me 
 
 To die, and what now haunts me no more see ; 
 
 To know the strength so ill obtained hath 
 
 served 
 
 To bless some hearts from ills like mine pre 
 served. 
 
 Is there no pity in the heavens for strength 
 O erborne ? for souls in utter misery foundered ? 
 If I may take a life to save mine own 
 When threatened by that life, why may I not 
 Howe er my life be threatened ? life is life. 
 And my child s life, already half mine own, 
 In taking it I took but half a life, 
 And sent him innocent from woes impending. 
 
 Enter SIMON, and SOLDIERS disguised as women. 
 SIMON. 
 
 Behold the men.
 
 SALOME. 193 
 
 Are they instructed all ? 
 Can they be trusted, whatsoe er befall? 
 
 Ay, faithful, ready, of discretion best, 
 They will obey, unquestioned, thy behest. 
 
 Then count my purpose acted ere the day 
 Light up the shores of morning with its ray. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 The elements of nature threaten war, 
 
 And rising winds, night s sighs, are heard from 
 
 far. 
 
 Black jagged clouds, like huge Tartarean bulls, 
 With heads low bent, rush roaring to the fray, 
 And breathe from hissing nostrils lurid flames. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 Let them o erthrow the heavens, my purpose 
 holds. 
 
 I hear, as t were, the echoes of wild laughter, 
 And gibbering voices mock the startled ear 
 From out the darkness ; whispers from the clouds 
 
 13
 
 194 SALOME. 
 
 Like falling snow flakes melt or ere the sense 
 Can grasp their chilly meaning 
 
 Dost thou fear ? 
 Well may thy trembling conscience make thee 
 
 shake. 
 
 And ye, my friends, shall terrors make ye fail, 
 Or will ye with me o er them all prevail ? 
 
 CHORUS, Soldiers. 
 
 So dark as is the deed should be 
 The darkness it concealing. See ! 
 The eyes of heaven are shut. Away ! 
 Let it be finished ere the day.
 
 C&sar s Pavilion. 
 
 TITUS, LEPIDUS, FRIGIUS, and the COMMANDERS OF LEGIOXS. 
 TITUS. 
 
 COMPANIONS, and dear sharers of our toils, 
 Now Victory smiles upon our enterprise. 
 The omens are propitious, and the gods 
 Descend in mighty shadows from the hills, 
 As in the time while Troy yet was ; their tread 
 The heavens shakes ; their clashing armor sounds 
 Reverberating thunders through the air, 
 And gleams in livid lightnings from the clouds, 
 Which veil their awful majesties from view. 
 They move in dreadful presence to the fight. 
 On with them ; let our deeds illume this night. 
 Brave Lepidus shall, with a chosen hand, 
 Stand ready till the breached wall invite ; 
 Then his shall be the honor to invade 
 The portal opened by your enginery, 
 And cut his way into the castle, there 
 To plant our standard on the topmost tower, 
 And free our Sextus who lies there enchained, 
 And others dear to Rome and dear to him,
 
 190 SALOME. 
 
 While each of you your several powers shall 
 
 press 
 Through breaches, broken gates, and falling 
 
 towers, 
 To seize their strongholds and to storm the 
 
 Temple. 
 
 But this I charge you, let no daring hand 
 Put to that house the sacrilegious brand. 
 Such is our plan, which, Valor seconding, 
 Shall lead us to the end of these our labors, 
 Entice wreath-bearing Victory, and Fame, 
 Her swift-winged herald, to our conquering 
 
 camp, 
 
 And bring the Muses down to celebrate 
 Our triumphs and the victor s sweet rewards. 
 Go, Lepidus, with blessings of the gods. 
 Thy mission is most dangerous ; its cause 
 Most just and holy ; so the undertaking 
 Most honorable. Perils, undisguised 
 And hidden, wait for thee ; perchance defeat 
 In ambush lies as the van-p - uard of death. 
 
 O 
 
 Dishonor, Lepidus, cannot o ertake thee, 
 Nor lies it in thy path. And, if thou win, 
 I d give my hopes of empire for thy glory, 
 And think I d paid thee naught, so great thy 
 
 gain. 
 
 I envy thee, my friend. Oh would the gods 
 Had made my duty lie where goes my wish,
 
 SALOME. 197 
 
 And Titus thy lieutenant then had been, 
 And death in this adventure better loved 
 Than life remaining here. O Lepidus, 
 I know thy heart is made of heroism, 
 By Disappointment tempered, and thy zeal 
 Is forged and hardened by Adversity 
 A very Vulcan when he worketh on 
 True metal to the bow of steel, resolve, 
 Which will not be unbent till the arrow, purpose, 
 Shall pierce the centre of the targe, success. 
 Yet let my exhortation add some strength 
 To the right arm of thy determination, 
 That I may seem not idle in the achievement, 
 And share some part of favor in the end 
 Of thy great work. The gods be with thee, 
 friend. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Thy friend shall still deserve thy friendship, 
 
 Titus, 
 In life or death. So, for the night, farewell. 
 
 To thee, O Frigius, I will but say 
 
 That Lepidus hath chosen well. Approve 
 
 His choice of a lieutenant. Fare ye well. 
 
 [Exeunt LEPIDUS and FKIGIUS. 
 
 You, generals, each to his station move, 
 And when ye see Destruction s fiery banner
 
 198 SALOME. 
 
 Flung from Antonia s tower to the skies, 
 
 Its flaming folds red gleaming from the smoke 
 
 Tartareous that hangeth ever round it, 
 
 And drapeth it in awe-inspiring black, 
 
 Let every engine answer with its bolts 
 
 To heaven s dread enginery, and the loud crash 
 
 Of swift artillery outdo the thunder, 
 
 And, while your rushing legions shake the earth, 
 
 O erthrow the walls and towers ; then to the 
 
 breaches. 
 
 Great Caesar s constellation in the heavens 
 With anxious eagerness regardeth trembling, 
 And starteth forward from its azure seat, 
 To see Rome s soldiers fight as did his Romans ; 
 And their commander watcheth to reward. 
 Rome, rising from her seven hills, looketh on. 
 Go, with the favor of the most just gods. 
 
 [Exeunt COMMANDERS. 
 
 O god of battles, Mars omnipotent, 
 
 If I have been a worthy son ; if e er 
 
 My fathers served thee ; if thou hast respect 
 
 To Rome ; if she, thy priestess, crimson in 
 
 Thy robes, hath been accepted ; for her sake, 
 
 And for my fathers , and thine honor, Mars, 
 
 Hear now my prayer. Oh give mine arms 
 
 success ; 
 
 But spare the Temple. Let the city s wreck 
 Suffice ; and let this glory of the earth
 
 SALOME. 199 
 
 Remain. Bid flames clown to their kennels. 
 
 Tuni 
 
 The lightnings back. Or if, for jealousy, 
 Thou would st destroy this Temple to a god 
 Who on Olympus hath no place, forbear, 
 And I will build to thee a shrine so great 
 That jealousy nor envy can o erlook 
 Its lofty walls and towers and battlements. 
 
 Enter an OFFICER. 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 A Hebrew woman with a courtly train 
 Awaits, and craves admission to thy presence. 
 
 How did she pass the barriers of the camp ? 
 
 They were arrested, and she prayed at once 
 To be conducted hither, arguing 
 Some business of great import. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Bid her come 
 Alone, and let her train attend without. 
 
 [Exit OFFICER. 
 
 Some wretched creature fled from wretched 
 ness
 
 200 SALOME. 
 
 In the doomed city. They will have it so. 
 I would have spared them ; but the gods are 
 just. 
 
 Enter OFFICER with MAEAH. 
 
 Approach and do thine errand. She is faint : 
 Give her some wine. 
 
 Thanks, gracious Caesar, thanks. 
 Thy clemency and goodness are well known. 
 But I came not to plead for clemency. 
 In briefest phrase I will my speech unfold : 
 Salome, daughter of Herodias, 
 A prisoner in the castle, held by Simon, 
 Is doomed, to-morrow, to be crucified. 
 The general Sextus, living and in health, 
 A prisoner in the castle, held by Simon, 
 Is doomed, to-morrow, to be crucified. 
 The miserable remnant of my people, 
 Imprisoned in the city by thine arms, 
 Is daily crucified by every ill 
 That utter wretchedness can summon. Now 
 They helpless lie, the very sport of Death. 
 The daily sacrifice hath failed for need 
 Of men to offer it. And now we know 
 The end. The oracle, long writ, declares 
 That, when the oblation and the sacrifice 
 Shall cease, in dreadful floods of desolation
 
 SALOME. 201 
 
 The predetermined consummation comes. 
 And silence which shall mock the ear will tell 
 Where stood Mount Zion, glory of the earth. 
 The Lord of all the earth He shall do right. 
 His will be done. And, since it is His will 
 That thou should st take the city and prevail, 
 I come to proffer my weak aid, and save, 
 If it may be, some poor souls from perdition, 
 Who, having suffered with meek resignation, 
 Yet, overtempted by their misery, 
 May do some dreadful deed against our laws 
 And fall to reprobation ; as some have. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Give her somewhat to eat. 
 
 I will not eat 
 Till I shall have accomplished all my vow. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 How canst thou aid us ? What can we for thee ? 
 
 Prepare me forty men, your best and bravest ; 
 But, first, secure my train which waits without, 
 And guard them hostages for these ye send. 
 They all are men in women s vestments hid ;
 
 202 SALOME. 
 
 For Simon, thinking that I hither came 
 To take thy life, hath greatly favored me, 
 And I shall have free ingress to the city, 
 And to the castle, with my company. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Go on, go on. 
 
 MABAH. 
 
 And let thy forty men 
 With these disguises, which mine own have 
 
 worn, 
 Indue themselves 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Now I perceive thy scheme : 
 Go, summon Lepidus. 
 
 [Exit OFFICER. 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 And they, by me 
 
 Led to the castle, while your fierce assault 
 Shall call its garrison to man the walls, 
 Shall easily possess it, and set free 
 Both Sextus and Salome. Terror then 
 Shall fall on the seditious in the city, 
 When they shall see thy standards on its towers, 
 And know the castle held by thee, themselves 
 Between the upper and the nether millstone. 
 And so thou shalt prevail.
 
 SALOME. 203 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 I would not doubt 
 
 Such seeming faith, but caution aye becomes 
 The soldier. Hast thou then no token brought ? 
 
 MARAH. 
 
 I have. Behold the sio-net-rino- of Sextus. 
 
 Enough, and for this service thou shalt learn 
 How Rome and Caesar can be grateful. Now 
 Thou shalt be general of this expedition, 
 And every thing be ordered by thy wish.
 
 Court of the Castle. 
 SIMON and KAI.IPHILUS. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 THE Future stands, with open arms, before me, 
 And, smiling, whispers promises most fair, 
 Now half fulfilled. Thou art my prophet prince ; 
 For, since Salome hath been in my power, 
 And sentenced, all things are propitious to me. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Thy faith shall win for thee the warrior s 
 crown 
 
 But swerve not from the course I have pre 
 scribed. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 By this time Marah hath, in Caesar s camp, 
 Subdued his heart and taken his proud head. 
 She knoweth skillfully how to evoke, 
 From their dark covert in the heart profound, 
 The treacherous passions, keep them well in 
 
 check, 
 
 Their mistress ever, that they rend her not. 
 As traitors, gained in citadels besieged,
 
 SALOME. 205 
 
 They put the eyes of sovereign Judgment out, 
 Enchain the ready garrison of Thoughts, 
 And drive beneath the yoke the captive Will 
 With scourges. So, all unsuspected, she 
 Ere this hath taken Titus, and I wait 
 Impatiently her coming. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Trust her not ; 
 
 For she would rather make one man her slave 
 Than free a nation. She is but a woman. 
 And, if perchance his manly parts invite 
 Her to the attack, while Prudence her defies, 
 And calm Indifference seem invulnerable, 
 In the hot vigor of her first assault 
 She shall forget to guard the avenues 
 And gates which open to her inmost heart. 
 And so he shall but wait his vantage time 
 To take possession of, and be her master. 
 Nav, rather disregard this foolish scheme, 
 And, as I bid thee, climb to victory. 
 
 And when I shall be victor, thou shalt be 
 My chiefest counselor, and, if thou wilt, 
 High priest. Nay, choose thyself thy guerdon, so 
 It take thee not from me. I would not lose 
 Thy counsel and direction.
 
 206 SALOME. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Fear me not, 
 
 For sooner thou shalt drive me hence than I 
 Thy fortunes cease to govern. 
 
 Ho ! already 
 
 I seem to feel the crown upon my brow, 
 And breathe the regal air. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 But tell me now, 
 
 What order hast thou taken to fulfill 
 My mandate? She shall die how, when, and 
 where ? 
 
 When first the gleaming harbingers of morn 
 
 In golden armor mount the eastern clouds, 
 
 Shall she be taken to the valley gate. 
 
 And when the sun, for his unrivaled course, 
 
 Shall stand prepared upon the eastern hills, 
 
 She shall be crucified upon the Avail, 
 
 And, with her, Sextus. Dost thou this approve ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Ay, it is well. See that thou change it not.
 
 SALOME. 207 
 
 And shall I then be crowned ? Will all the 
 
 factions 
 
 Unite and hail me master of the city ? 
 And Victory lead our conjoined hosts 
 To overthrow the Romans, drive them hence, 
 And bar them from the realm of Palestine ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 A sound, in heaven, of rolling chariot wheels ! 
 And cries of squadrons rushing into battle ! 
 
 Ah ! whence this sudden night-devouring light ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 The tower Antonia is on fire ! and up 
 To heaven extendeth supplicating arms 
 Of flame ! O elements, what shall be now ? 
 
 Enter an OFFICER. 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 Ho ! they assault. The Romans beat the walls, 
 And knock so at the gates that they will open 
 Of their accord without the aid of porters 
 
 Then cry, To arms ! Ho ! All men to the walls !
 
 208 SALOME. 
 
 Call out the garrison, and let the wardens 
 Care for the castle ! Simon to the rescue ! 
 
 [Exeunt SIMON and OFFICER. 
 
 KALirillLUS. 
 
 So, all goes well, and at the appointed hour 
 Shall John be ready with his chosen power 
 To rescue her. Let Sextus soul descend, 
 Then is she mine until her brief life end. 
 And then then but anticipation dread, 
 And woful retrospection ! Drear and dead 
 The world s great wilderness ; no hope to see 
 Aught sympathizing, feared or loved by me. 
 Once more within my power, O ready skill, 
 Invent the way for mine opposeless will, 
 So that, escaped from factions and alarms, 
 No force but Death shall tear her from mine 
 
 arms. 
 
 But can I safely trust this night s wild chances ? 
 These dire portents most wonderful declare 
 Some most unheard disaster. Shall I wait 
 The coming of the morn, whose tearful eye 
 May blinded be by smoke of conflagrations, 
 The only dwellers then in this cursed city? 
 Or, boldly, on my single arm rely, 
 And my well practiced wit. to take her hence ? 
 Now all is dark. No wreck of light illumes 
 The deep of tossing clouds. The stars are sunk,
 
 SALOME. 209 
 
 All foundered, all their glittering spars gone 
 
 down. 
 
 And in the darkness and chaotic rush, 
 Perchance unchallenged, I could pass with her, 
 The dearest thins;: to me in that dear world, 
 
 c? 
 
 The last thing left to me from that lost world, 
 That Paradise I dwelt in ere my curse. 
 
 Enter an OFFICER. 
 
 Whence comest thou ? What news ? How goes 
 the fight? 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 I come from Simon, ordered to behead 
 Salome in the dungeon. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Wherefore thus? 
 
 The Romans press our powers on every side ; 
 And Simon will cast forth the accursed thing 
 To turn the anger of the Lord of Hosts. 
 
 KALTPHILUS. 
 
 And I command thee to remain with me, 
 Until the accepted hour arrive. Stay ! halt ! 
 Or I will curse thee. Simon doth not well. 
 To yonder gallery ascend, report 
 14
 
 210 SALOME. 
 
 From time to time the movements of the fight. 
 
 c5 
 
 I will the moment indicate when thou 
 Shalt strike the blow and win the victory. 
 
 [OFFICER ascenda. 
 
 I must gain time, or all is lost gain time ! 
 I feel my power slip from me. Help, ye fiends ! 
 The vision of my soul is dimmed ; in vain 
 I seek some subtle stratagem. O devils ! 
 
 CHORUS without, Priests. 
 Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani ? 
 
 OFFICER, above. 
 
 Like the impenetrable adamant 
 
 Which, blackened, stands the topless bourne of 
 
 hell, 
 The clouds down to the earth are packed in 
 
 walls 
 
 Of smooth and pitchy darkness, which surround 
 The Temple, city, and the flaming pile. 
 While, overhead, in the fierce flame s hot glare, 
 They redly roll, and turn, and sink, and surge, 
 Like bloody seas vexed by a tempest, or 
 Some crimson lake of fire hell in the heavens. 
 The ebon walls divide, and lightning streams 
 Flash through like wrath which burneth hot 
 
 beyond.
 
 SALOME. 211 
 
 CHORUS without ; PRIESTS passing. 
 
 Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani ? 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Forsaken ! Ay, forsaken ! Roar, ye priests. 
 
 OFFICER, above. 
 
 Light with a million arrowy rays again 
 Hath pierced the breast of brooding darkness. 
 
 Ah! 
 
 The Temple is on fire ! The eastern gate 
 Glares like the shield of Morning when he 
 
 drives 
 Night s rout of shadows to their northern caves. 
 
 CHORUS without ; PRIESTS receding. 
 
 Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani ? 
 
 Enter MARAH, LEPIDUS, FRIGIUS, and SOLDIERS disguised as 
 women. 
 
 Secure the gate, and make the castle yours. 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Away these trappings, as yourselves appear. 
 Good Frigius, up to the battlements : 
 Unveil the Roman standard. 
 
 [Exit FRIGIUS.
 
 212 SALOME. 
 
 Some of you 
 Secure these men, and guard them while we 
 
 search 
 The castle. 
 
 [KALIPHILUS and OFFICER are bound. 
 
 The garrison made prisoners, 
 We 11 to the dungeon. Here wait my return. 
 
 [Exit LEPIDUS with Attendants. 
 CHORUS without ; JEWS, going away captive. 
 
 Fare ye well ! farewell, O palaces deserted ! 
 Fare thee well ! farewell, O city desolated ! 
 Fare thee well ! farewell, O glory now de 
 parted ! 
 
 Fare thee well ! farewell, O Temple desecrated ! 
 How are the mighty brought low ! Kings in 
 
 the harness have fallen. 
 Queens are a prey to the spoiler ; princes are 
 
 bent under burdens. 
 Gone from their dwellings the people, gone, 
 
 or silent forever. 
 Mourning is heard there no more ; there are 
 
 the dead and the voiceless. 
 Silent the sheep in the sheep-cote ; there the 
 
 wolf howleth and raveneth : 
 There were no shepherds to watch, no hedge 
 
 to protect and defend them.
 
 SALOME. 2"! 3 
 
 God, our Shepherd, hath left us ; God hath con 
 demned and forsaken. 
 
 God hath opened the vials ; wrath raineth 
 fiercely upon us. 
 
 Save, O save us, Death : the heathen are our 
 masters ! 
 
 Save, O save us, Death, from those who lead 
 us captive ! 
 
 Save, O save us, Death, from insult and re 
 viling ! 
 
 Save, O save us, Death, from life a burden 
 to us !
 
 A Dungeon. 
 SEXTUS, SALOME, THONA, and CHORUS of Christians. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Tliough I walk through 
 TJte valley of the shadow 
 Of death, 
 
 Yet will I fear no evil, 
 For TIiou art with me. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 He will be with us, if we trust in Him, 
 And He shall soon receive us to Himself. 
 
 In my Father s house are many mansions : 
 If it were not so, I ivould have told you. 
 I go to prepare a place for you, 
 That where I am, there ye may be also. 
 
 The tumult waxes, and the Roman shout 
 Can now be heard. Our friends will take us 
 hence.
 
 SALOME. 215 
 
 E en now they come ! and we are saved. Shall 
 
 have 
 Yet many days to love and help each other. 
 
 Enter MARAH, LEPIDUS, FKIGIUS, TORCH BEARERS, and SOLDIEKS 
 with KALIPHILUS, bound. 
 
 My Thona ! Where s my Thona ? 
 
 THONA. 
 
 Here. Oh here. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Dear Lepidus, brave Frigius, ye ve done 
 A deed such as ye only know to do 
 
 Nay, it was Marah, here, who hath performed 
 Such acts as have our Roman women crowned. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 God bless thee, Marah, as our hearts now bless. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 We 11 give thee better thanks ere long, but 
 now 
 
 I pray ye, let my actions pass in silence.
 
 216 SALOME. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 But is the city taken? 
 
 It shall be, 
 If not already 
 
 Thou art safe, Salome. 
 To-morrow we together will set out 
 For Rome. There shall we be so happy. Then 
 Shall joy make swift amends for our past grief. 
 There on the banks of Tiber, in my palace 
 
 Nay, Sextus, I am bound unto a country 
 Above the earth, where there can be no grief. 
 There on the flowery banks of life s sweet river 
 Shall we in God s own palace dwell, An house 
 Not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Salome, it was here John Baptist died. 
 
 Here I beheaded him at thy request, 
 
 To please thee, dear one, but to win thy love 
 
 Oh, help me.
 
 SALOME 217 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Stop his mouth. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 I took his head 
 To give thee t was thy wish for thee I 
 
 did it 
 He knew it too. O innocent ! O angel ! 
 
 LEPIDUS. 
 
 Lo ! Csesar comes ! 
 
 Enter TITUS, JOSEPHUS, and ATTENDANTS, with SIMON a prisoner, 
 Hail ! Imperator, hail ! 
 
 The city s ours, John ta en, and Simon here 
 Our prisoner. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Ha, ha ! He would be king. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Good Lepidus, stout Frigius, true friends, 
 Ye need not Caasar s praises. Your reward 
 Ye here have won, and proudly shall ye boast it.
 
 218 SALOME. 
 
 SIMON. 
 
 Hag, witch, thou didst betray me ; thou she- 
 wolf 
 
 [Attempts to smite MARAH. 
 TITUS. 
 Chain, take him hence. Preserve him for the 
 
 triumph . 
 
 He would be king. When, at the Capitol, 
 According to the rules of Roman triumphs, 
 He shall be slain, prepare a red-hot crown 
 And place it on his brows. He shall be crowned. 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Ha, Simon ! thou shalt yet be king. Hey, Si 
 mon ? 
 
 Dost feel the crown upon thy kingly brows, 
 And snuff the regal air ? Hail ! Simon, hail ! 
 
 False prophet, liar, O fiend, accursed 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Ha, ha ! 
 
 [SIMON is led out. 
 TITUS. 
 
 Brave Marah, it shall be my charge to see 
 That thou hast a reward commensurate 
 With thy great merit. Caesar s gratitude
 
 SALOME. 219 
 
 Thou hast already, and the Emperor 
 
 Shall learn thy noble deeds. Rome loves brave 
 
 women. 
 
 Salome, Cassar hails and welcomes thee, 
 The Emperor s guest, with these thy faithful 
 
 friends ; 
 
 And, midst rejoicings for this victory, 
 Shall Sextus claim thee as his loving wife. 
 Then Lepidus shall take his dear love home, 
 Whom I salute. Thou art worthy of him, 
 
 Thona, 
 
 And that is praise such as few women win. 
 Now let as leave this dungeon. For your 
 
 need 
 Already food and wine have been prepared. 
 
 KALIPHILUS (havinr/ silently freed himself from his bonds). 
 
 Sir, by thy leave 
 
 [Snatches a sword and thrusts at SEXTUS; SALOME springs 
 before him and receives the blow. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Oh ! I am slain ! Ah ! Sextus 
 
 [Swoons. 
 
 SEXTUS. 
 
 Salome ! Speak ! What ! dead ! by that fell 
 
 hand! 
 Nay, friends, stand back give me a sword 
 
 stand back,
 
 220 SALOME. 
 
 And let me deal with him. We have a question 
 Must be discussed with bloody arguments. 
 
 [Attacks KALIPHILUS. 
 KALIPHII.US. 
 
 Now she is dead, live on, and be accursed 
 Like me. Live on. Hold, play not with me, or 
 I shall be kinder to thee than I would. 
 What ! wilt thou then ? Ha ! wilt thou ? Have 
 it so. 
 
 [Stabs SEXTUS. 
 SEXTUS. 
 I could not stay. I come to thee, Salome. 
 
 [Dies. 
 
 TITUS. 
 
 Straight scourge him hence, ay, scourge him 
 
 till he die. 
 And weary not in scourging 
 
 KALIPHILUS. 
 
 Ha, ha ! come, 
 And one by one I 11 rid me of your stings. 
 
 [Exit KALIPHILUS, pursued by SOLDIERS scourging him. 
 
 SALOME. 
 
 Come rear me, Sextus Thona ah ! Fare 
 well. 
 Come, Sextus, come come. Lord, receive 
 
 my spirit. 
 
 [Dies.
 
 SALOME. 221 
 
 CHORUS, Romans. 
 
 So upon the dim shore breaks the mist en 
 shrouded billow. 
 
 CHORUS, Christians. 
 
 So the stars are lost in light when the full 
 day appeareth. 
 
 CHOHUS, Romans. 
 
 Now to the Islands of the Blessed oh waft 
 
 them, waft them, 
 Ye gentle gales, that, o er the mystic seas soft 
 
 moving, 
 Convey each soul freighted with honesty and 
 
 virtue 
 To that dear haven. And there in sunny 
 
 bays, by shore lands, 
 Wood- cove red, flower-embroidered, filled with 
 
 sweets and music, 
 Let these storm-beaten souls at anchor rest 
 
 forever. 
 
 CHORUS, Christians. 
 
 Blessed are the dead who die in Jesus, 
 For they rest, they rest from all their labors. 
 Now they wing their way unto the city 
 Where the Prince of Peace forever reigneth. 
 Dark are the portals of death ; beyond them is 
 brightness eternal.
 
 222 SALOME. 
 
 They who have passed them are washed and 
 
 clothed in glories unfading. 
 Death is the messenger sent to make of the 
 
 mortal the immortal, 
 To lead from without the lost children within 
 
 to the halls of their Father. 
 
 A VOICE above. 
 
 What are these arrayed in shining raiment? 
 
 CHORUS above, many voices. 
 
 These are they which came from mighty tribu 
 lation, 
 
 And have washed their robes and made them 
 white and spotless 
 
 In the blood of Christ, the slain Lamb, their 
 Redeemer. 
 
 No more shall they hunger, never more be thirsty ; 
 
 Nor the sun shall fall, nor any heat, upon them : 
 
 From their eyes, by Him, shall every tear be 
 wiped.
 
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