Elizabeth Cary - The Tragedy of Mariam, Act 1, Scene 3 lyrics

scene 3 [MARIAM. ALEXANDRA. SALOME.] SALOME More plotting yet? Why, now you have the thing For which so oft you spent your suppliant breath: And Mariam hopes to have another king. Her eyes do sparkle joy for Herod's d**h. ALEXANDRA If she desired another king to have, She might before she came in Herod's bed Have had her wish. More kings than one did crave For leave to set a crown upon her head. I think with more than reason she laments, That she is freed from such a sad annoy: Who is't will weep to part from discontent? And if she joy, she did not causeless joy. SALOME You durst not thus have given your tongue the rein, If noble Herod still remained in life: Your daughter's betters far, I dare maintain, Might have rejoiced to be my brother's wife. MARIAM My betters far! Base woman, 'tis untrue, You scarce have ever my superiors seen: For Mariam's servants were as good as you, Before she came to be Judea's queen. SALOME Now stirs the tongue that is so quickly moved, But more than once your choler have I borne: Your fumish words are sooner said than proved, And Salome's reply is only scorn. MARIAM Scorn those that are for thy companions held. Though I thy brother's face had never seen, My birth thy baser birth so far excelled, I had to both of you the princess been. Thou parti-Jew, and parti-Edomite, Thou mongrel: issued from rejected race, Thy ancestors against the Heavens did fight, And thou like them wilt heavenly birth disgrace. SALOME Still twit you me with nothing but birth, What odds betwixt your ancestors and mine? Both born of Adam, both were made of earth, And both did come from holy Abraham's line. MARIAM I favor thee when nothing else I say, With thy black acts I'll not pollute my breath: Else to thy charge I might full justly lay. A shameful life, besides a husband's d**h. SALOME 'Tis true indeed, I did the plots reveal, That pa**ed betwixt your favorites and you: I meant not, I, a traitor to conceal. Thus Salome your minion Joseph slew. MARIAM Heaven, dost thou mean this infamy to smother? Let slandered Mariam ope thy closèd ear: Self-guilt hath ever been suspicion's mother, And therefore I this speech with patience bear. No, had not Salome's unsteadfast heart In Josephus' stead her Constabarus placed, To free herself she had not used the art To slander hapless Mariam for unchaste. ALEXANDRA Come, Mariam, let us go: it is no boot To let the head contend against the foot.