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

scene 3 [MARIAM. SOHEMUS.] MARIAM Sohemus, tell me what the news may be That makes your eyes so full, your cheeks so blue? SOHEMUS I know not now how to call them. Ill for me 'Tis sure they are: not so, I hope, for you. Herod— MARIAM Oh, what of Herod? SOHEMUS Herod lives. MARIAM How! Lives? What, in some cave or forest hid? SOHEMUS Nay, back returned with honor. Caesar gives Him greater grace than e'er Anthonius did. MARIAM Foretell the ruin of my family, Tell me that I shall see our city burned: Tell me I shall a d**h disgraceful die, But tell me not that Herod is returned. SOHEMUS Be not impatient, madam, be but mild, His love to you again will soon be bred. MARIAM I will not to his love be reconciled, With solemn vows I have forsworn his bed. SOHEMUS But you must break those vows. MARIAM I'll rather break The heart of Mariam. Cursed is my fate: But speak no more to me, in vain ye speak To live with him I so profoundly hate. SOHEMUS Great queen, you must to me your pardon give, Sohemus cannot now your will obey: If your command should me to silence drive, It were not to obey, but to betray. Reject and slight my speeches, mock my faith, Scorn my observance, call my counsel nought: Though you regard not what Sohemus saith, Yet will I ever freely speak my thought. I fear ere long I shall fair Mariam see In woeful state, and by herself undone: Yet for your issue's sake more temp'rate be, The heart by affability is won. MARIAM And must I to my prison turn again? Oh, now I see I was an hypocrite: I did this morning for his d**h complain, And yet do mourn, because he lives, ere night. When I his d**h believed, compa**ion wrought, And was the stickler 'twixt my heart and him: But now that curtain's drawn from off my thought, Hate doth appear again with visage grim: And paints the face of Herod in my heart, In horrid colors with detested look: Then fear would come, but scorn doth play her part, And saith that scorn with fear can never brook. I know I could enchain him with a smile: And lead him captive with a gentle word, I scorn my look should ever man beguile, Or other speech than meaning to afford. Else Salome in vain might spend her wind, In vain might Herod's mother whet her tongue: In vain had they complotted and combined, For I could overthrow them all ere long. Oh, what a shelter is mine innocence, To shield me from the pangs of inward grief: 'Gainst all mishaps it is my fair defence, And to my sorrows yields a large relief. To be commandress of the triple earth, And sit in safety from a fall secure: To have all nations celebrate my birth, I would not that my spirit were impure. Let my distressèd state unpitied be, Mine innocence is hope enough for me. [Exit.] SOHEMUS Poor guiltless queen! Oh, that my wish might place A little temper now about thy heart: Unbridled speech is Mariam's worst disgrace, And will endanger her without desert. I am in greater hazard. O'er my head, The fatal axe doth hang unsteadily: My disobedience once discoverèd Will shake it down: Sohemus so shall die. For when the King shall find, we thought his d**h Had been as certain as we see his life: And marks withal I slighted so his breath, As to preserve alive his matchless wife— Nay more, to give to Alexander's hand1 The regal dignity; the sovereign power, How I had yielded up at her command, The strength of all the city, David's Tower- What more than common d**h may I expect, Since I too well do know his cruelty? 'Twere d**h a word of Herod's to neglect; What then to do directly contrary? Yet, life, I quit thee with a willing spirit, And think thou could'st not better be employed: I forfeit thee for her that more doth merit, Ten such were better dead than she destroyed. But fare thee well, chaste queen, well may I see The darkness palpable, and rivers part: The sun stand still, nay more, retorted be, But never woman with so pure a heart. Thine eyes' grave majesty keeps all in awe, And cuts the wings of every loose desire: Thy brow is table to the modest law; Yet though we dare not love, we may admire. And if I die, it shall my soul content, My breath in Mariam's service shall be spent. CHORUS 'Tis not enough for one that is a wife To keep her spotless from an act of ill: But from suspicion she should free her life, And bare herself of power as well as will. 'Tis not so glorious for her to be free, As by her proper self restrained to be. When she hath spacious ground to walk upon, Why on the ridge should she desire to go? It is no glory to forbear alone Those things that may her honor overthrow. But 'tis thankworthy if she will not take All lawful liberties for honor's sake. That wife her hand against her fame doth rear, That more than to her lord alone will give A private word to any second ear, And though she may with reputation live, Yet though most chaste, she doth her glory blot, And wounds her honor, though she k**s it not. When to their husbands they themselves do bind, Do they not wholly give themselves away? Or give they but their body, not their mind, Reserving that, though best, for others' prey? No sure, their thoughts no more can be their own, And therefore should to none but one be known. Then she usurps upon another's right, That seeks to be by public language graced: And though her thoughts reflect with purest light, Her mind if not peculiar is not chaste. For in a wife it is no worse to find, A common body than a common mind. And every mind, though free from thought of ill, That out of glory seeks a worth to show, When any's ears but one therewith they fill, Doth in a sort her pureness overthrow. Now Mariam had (but that to this she bent) Been free from fear, as well as innocent.