Herod and Mariamne a tragedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre.

About this Item

Title
Herod and Mariamne a tragedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre.
Author
Pordage, Samuel, 1633-1691?
Publication
London :: Printed for William Cademan ...,
1673.
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Subject terms
Herod -- I, -- King of Judea, 73-4 B.C. -- Drama.
Mariamne, -- consort of Herod I, King of Judea, ca. 57-ca. 29 B.C. -- Drama.
Cite this Item
"Herod and Mariamne a tragedy, acted at the Duke's Theatre." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A55475.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 5, 2024.

Pages

Scene 2d. a Bed-Chamber.
Enter Mariamne, Alexandra, Philon and Clophe.
Alex.
You had been freed durst you my Councel use.
Mar.
Such Councel, Madam, I agen refuse.
Alex.
Your Dagger in his Heart had eas'd your fears.
Mar.
Such Crimes are stains my Innocence ne're wears.
Alex.
Woman thou art—
Exit.
Mar.
What I will ever be From all the guilt of your Reproaches free.
Enter Herod.
Herod.
I that with horrid thoughts of Rigour came, Am on a suddain, how I know not, Tame. Sure 'tis not I—I am no Lyon now— The Furies humbly to that Sweetness bow— I am not Angry now— I will renew—
Offers to Em∣brace her▪
Mar.
I will accept no Kindness Sir from you—
Herod.
I will not be deny'd—
Mar.
But Sir, you must. For my Resentments they are great and just.

Page 29

This Heart cannot Dissemble King like You—
Herod.
Will neither Anger nor my Kindness do? So now I feel the Floods of Rage return, And I a-new inflam'd with Anger burn. Thou to thy Husbands Kindness false art grown, And Love, my due, is on a Stranger thrown. Has Tyridates Are you Surpriz'd! has Guilt lock't up your Tongue?
Mar.
No Herod, 'tis the greatness of the Wrong.
Herod.
Traytress, 'tis false— But to my Wrath he shall a Victim fall; And you shall quickly follow too—you shall!—
Mar.
Herod, believe all that you please; the worst I've born already by thy Kindness Curst.
Herod.
Perfidious Woman— His Ruine shall begin your Punishment.
Mar.
If you on Blood and Murder thus are bent: If Rage no otherwise appeas'd can be, Seek out no other Sacrifice but Me. Resolve my Murder, but his Ruine spare, Who has in my Imputed Crimes no share:
Herod.
To such a height it seems your Love is flown, His Life you value, though you slight your own; In Tyridates thou shalt tortur'd be, Before thou know'st what I resolve on Thee.
Ex.
Mar.
Death thou art Welcome: come when e're thou wilt, Those Souls fear not thy Dart who feel no Guilt: Yet Tyridates, Thee I wish remov'd, Because your greatest Crime is that you Lov'd.
Exit.
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