Les femmes illustres or The heroick harangues of the illustrious women written n French by the exquisite pen of Monsieur de Scuddery governour of Nostre Dam. Translated by James Innes.

MARIAMNE TO HEROD. THE SECOND HARRANGUE.

ARGUMENT.

FEw are Ignorant that Herod put his Wife to death, but all do not know what She said in her defence, the two Historians who writ of her; One was not in her time, and the other was a Flatterer of Her Husband: So that it belongs to us to try the Truth, in the Ignorance of the one & Malice of the other; for me I acknowledge I am ranked in Mariam∣nes party, and whither it be by Pittie or Reason, whither I say her beauty hath blinded or her Innocency made me clear sighted, I cannot believe that a Princess descended from the Macabees Illustrous Bloud, had put a blemish on her Re∣putation: But I will rather love to believe that Herod was still Herod, I would say an unjust and bloody man: Behold then the Apologie of this unfortunat Beauty, who hath more Excellencie in her mouth then is in mine. Hear her then speak I Conjure you, and remark in her Noble Pride the true Caralter of Ma••iamnes Humor.

MARIAMNE TO HEROD.

IT is neither fear of death, nor desire of life that makes me speak to day: and were I but assure that posteri∣ty would do me justice when I shall be no more. I my self would help my Accusers and Enemies: I would look upon the last of my dayes as the first of my happinesse, and would wait the hour of my Death with so great, Constancie, that it should render these who Persecute me confused. But since they would as much against, my vertue as my life, it were great Coward liness to in∣dure a Calumny without repelling it: Innocencie and Glory are two such precious Jewels, that all things should be done to preserve them. Suffer then my lord (if it be suitable for the Grand-Daughter of Hircane to call you so) that to let you see the purity of my Soul, I recall to your Memorie, what you are, and what I am, to the end that Comparing my past Actions with the Accusations which are now made against me, you may some way pre∣pare your Spirit to believe these truths which I ought to tell it. Doubtless you have not forgot that I am come of that famous Race, which for many Ages by past hath given Kings to Judea: That all my Predecessores did Justly hold that Scepter which you have, that by their Birth right they carried the Crown which Fortune hath put upon your Head, and that if things had been according to ordinar Order, so far from being my Judge, I might have reckoned you in the Number of my Subjects, and lawfullie taken that power of you, which you Usurpe over me; However as this high birth oblidged me to a not common Vertue, Hircane did no sooner command me to be your Wife, knowing th••••

obedience I owed him, without considering the in-e∣quality that was betwixt us. I received you for my hus∣band, and although that my inclinations (thanks to Heaven) were quit contrate to yours, you know in what manner I have lived with you: and if you had need to expect more Complacency, and more Testimony of Affection from me, when your very Alliance was as Honourable to me, as mine was Glorious to you. Since that my lord, even to the death of Hircan, what have I done? what have I said? what have I thought against you? Nothing, but that I could not rejoyce in your Victories, because they were fatall to my Relations, and again, because I had a heart as great as the Nobleness of my Birth, I could not step upon the Th•• one of my Predeces∣sours without shedding tears: Because I could not do it in Justice; at least in the quality of Herods Wife. But you know that being unable to hinder a just Resent∣ment which Reason and Nature hath given me I took all possible care to conceall my grief from you. I en∣deavoured my self at that time to justifie you in my minde; and seeing that you had Ambition without Cruelty, I have rather pitted then accused you. I cal∣led that Passion the error of great Spirits, and the in∣fallible signe of a Person born for great things. How many times have I said to my self, if fortune would give you lawfull Enemies, you would be the greatest Prince of the Earth? How many times have I wished that great and Marvellous Spirit which you have, that invincible heart which makes you undertake all things, might carrie you against a People over whom you might be a Conquerour and not an Usurper. Alace, did you know all the Vowes that I have made for your Glorie, you would not believe me capable of having desires to Te∣nebrate its Splendor by forgetting my own. And per∣haps it is for that fault that Heaven punishes me; yet I cannot wish that I had doue it; and although I see my self to day in hazard of losing my Life, I cannot repent, for having preserved you by my Counsells, when con∣••are to all appearance you would trust the Traitor Bar∣saphane, I do not Reproach you of that good office. I ••nlie Remember you of it, thereby to let you see I have still done all I could. But since that I avouch that I have no more lived so, I have no more concilled my sor∣rows,

I have no more stopped my voice, I have weeped, I have cryed, I have excessivly groaned and complained; But what less could the Grand Daughter of Hircane do, who is expired by your orders & by your cruelties? What less, I say, could the Sister of young Aristobulus doe, who perished by your Inhumanitie, for securing the Scepter in your hands? Ah! No, no, Patience would have been Criminall at that time. I was without doubt born for the Throne, but I would not mount it, because I could not without Treading on the Bodies of my Grand-Father and Brother. That Throne was wett with their Blood, I ought at least to wash it with my teares; since it is not permitted me to shed that of their Ene∣mies. Wo is me! what object worthie of compassion, was that, to see the Successor of so manie Kings, that Re∣verend old man, receive his death, from him whom he had made his allay; •• tremble with horrour onlie to think of it, nor could I withdraw my thoughts, if the image of young Aristobulus did not present it self to my eyes. What had that unfortunate Youth done to merit such unhapiness? He was Young, he was Vertuous, he was brave in all things, and his greatest fault was doubtless, that he resembled me. But alace! that fault should have been advantagious to him at such a time: for if it was true that you had such Passionate Love for me, as you would have cōstantly perswaded me was in your heart; though Aristo∣bulus had not been my Brother, though he had not been innocent, you should have alwayes respected my Image in him. The Resemblance of a person Beloved, hath made Armes fall from most cruel hands, and caused them change their designs. But insensible that I am what do I, to speak in this manner to him who would do so to my own Life; And who not content with over∣turning tho Thrones of my Fathers, causing kill my Grand-Father, drown my Brother & extirpating all my Race, would also this day ravish me of Honour, by un∣justlie accusing me of three faults, which I could never be capable of? I have been so little Accustomed to commit them, and am so innocent of those which are imposed upon me that I doubt if I can well Remember the Accusations which are made against me. Never∣theless, I think my Enemies say, that I have sent my ••ictu••e to A••th••ny; that I have had too particular intel∣ligence

with Joseph; and that I would have attempted your Life. O! Heavens is it possible, that Mariamne is oblidged to answer such things? And may it not be suf∣ficient to tell, it is Mariamne whom they Accuse, to say that she is Innocent? No, I will see that without rememb∣ring my state, or my vertue, I must put my self in condi∣tion of being unjustlie condemned: And although my birthis such that I ought not to give accompt of my Acti∣ons but to God alone; yet I must Vindicat my self before my Accusers, my enemies and my Judges together. You say then, that I have sent my Picture to Anthonie, whom I know not, and who did never see me: and with∣out noticing any Circumstance, if not that he was then in Aegypt, yet you would have this Accusation passe for a constant truth; But tell me a little, what Limner drew it? who was he who carried it? who are they to whom Anthony has showen it? where are the letters he writ to thank me for so great a favour? For it is not to be believed that he has received so extraordinarie a Testimonie of my affection without giving me thanks. The heart of Mariamne is not so little Glorious a conquest, though there have been manie Kings in the Earth, who would have esteemed it a Glorie to have done it, and who would not have done all things for de∣serving it. Nevertheless there appears no signs of the care that Anthonie has taken, either to Conquer or to Preserve me: And surelie in that Occasion, I must not onlie have forgot my proper Glorie, but altogether lost my Reason, to have dreamed of such a crime as I am Accused of. But if it had been in the time that you did all things for him, even in sending all your Jewels to him, and opposing the Roman Empire for his sake, I had been somewhat judicious in my choise; And I ought not to believe that Anthony who stimulates him. self by Generositie, should betray a man from whom he ••rath had so many Obligations, for a person whom he knows not at all. But if it be since that, that you have not been well together, by the divices of Cleopatra, there is yet lesse appearance there: And I should have been verie inconsiderat••, to have given armes my self to my Ene∣••••ie; (for at that time your interest was also mine) and moreover, what seeming truth can there be, if I were a•• infamous as I am innocent, that at the time when all the

Earth was filled with the love of Anthony and Cleopatras I should have sent him my Picture; Had Rome found that expedient, to cure her of the charmes of that Aegyptian? Had the Empire need of that Remedie, or had I anie desire to Sacrifice my self to the vanitie of that unfortunat Princess, whose jealousie would not have failled to have been most highlie Refulgent? No, Herod, nothing of this is come to pass: And the Inno∣cencie of Mariamne is so great, that her verie Enemies, cannot propose crimes to her seeminglic true. And moreover, you know that that which is called Beautie in me, never gave me vanitie: And that I have alwayes taken more pains, to be Vertuous then fair. Yet I do not deny, that there hath been a Picture of Mariamne, which has passed among all Princes of the Earth, and which perhaps will be a long time preserved there. Yes, Herod, there is an invisible Image of Mariamne, which wanders through the World; which makes her inno∣cent Conquests; and which without her consent, makes secret Enemies to you. Her high-Birth, her Vertue, her Patience, and your Crueltie, are the onlie Colours that are made use of in this Picture: And the Blood which I am going to shed, shall doubtless perfect the rendering of it adorable to Posteritie. But to answer the second Accusation that is made against me, which though false, hinders not my changing of Colon••, by the confusion I am in, to be constrained to speak of such a thing: I shall say with joy, that thanks to Heaven, I have no other witness against me but you who during the time of this supposed crime was at Laodicea: And by Consequence, was incapable of answering for my Actions. So well am I assured, that neither your eyes, nor your ears, could declare any thing against my inno∣cencie: And although that your Court be all composed of your slaves, or of my enemies; that your veris Sister who hates me, and through envie and by interest of State, hath observed with Extraordinarie care, even the least things that I have done or spoken, (I say) I am ver•••• certain, that she dares not maintain before me, ••o have heard on word, or remarked one single look, which could make the modestie of Mariamne suspected. It is no•• but that I know verie well she can tell a lie: 〈…〉〈…〉 which makes me speak with so much boldness, is 〈◊〉〈◊〉

I know me to have more Vertue then she has Malice: and that having Heavon for my Protector, I cannot be∣lieve that if at least I do perish, I shall not obtain Grace to die in that manner, that your injustice and my inno∣cencie shal be equallie manifested. And trulie at this time we need but open our eyes to see that these Accu∣sations which are made against me, are but pretexts to loss me. For what likelie-hood is there, if I were guilty of such a crime, that I would have chosen the husband of Salome, my cruelest Enemie, and Herods confident? But a cōfidēt to that degree that all things were trusted to him: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there was no wicked design, which was not communi∣cated to him. He was partner in all your crimes. He was the goaler & not lover of Mariamne; & to say all: It was he should plunge the poyniard in my heart, to obey your wil. O! Heaven who did ever see such Testimonies of Love! Why Herod, you might at parting bid me adieu with tears; you might look upon as you have done, with eyes wherein I saw but signes of Affection; and at the same time meditate my death. Ah! If you could (which I doubt not) you might verie well also to day, feigne that you believe me culpable to make me die Innocent. And tell me not as a favour, that this command was the effect of the strong passion you had for me: the death of the person beloved can never be a Testimonie of Affection. Hatred and Love have not the same ope∣rations; they may some times reign successivlie in the heart, but never together. Everie man who loves well lives not without the person beloved, yet he can alwaies die without her; and her death can never be an agree∣able thought to him. He should regrate his being sepa∣rated from her; and not regrate that she died not with him. But your way of loving is onlie peculiar to your self, and your inclinations are so Naturallie cruel, that poisons, and daggers, are the best gifts that can be re∣ceived from yon, when you would testifie your Freind∣ship. Pray you tell me how you can Accomodate all those things. You say that I have sent my picture to Anthony, and consequentlie that I had an intelligence with him: and at the same time, you again Accuse me of having one with Joseph: because say you, you having trusted to him the thing in the World, which was of ••greatest Importance to you; and he having discovered

it to me, it is impossible but that I should have given my self absolutely to him for that advertisment. Con∣sider well Herod, what you say? Anthony and Joseph, could they be both together in my heart? were these two rivals of the same qualitie and merit? And this Mariamne, whose Birth is so great and Illustrious; whose Soul is so High and so Glorious, that her Noble pride is by some rather taken for a fault then a vertue; could she be capable for alike weakness, for two men so dif∣ferent, who could have no conformitie together, if not that it had been equallie impossible for them to have touched my heart, when they would have endea∣voured it. This conquest is not so easie as you think: and trulie I wonder, that you who could never do it, judges it hath cost others so little. I do acknowledge that Jo∣seph did discover to me the wicked design that you had against me: but I also avouch, I believed him not. I did immedia••lie think that it was a Treacherie of Salome, who to make me carrie my self the more excessivlie against you, to the end of advancing my death: had invented that device: imagining with her self, that my death would trouble me more, then did that of Hircane, and of my brother. And that which made me the more believe it was so, was that I saw him under∣take to perswade me, that I ought to be infinitle oblidg∣ed to you for that excess of love, which you testified to me at that time: adding also, that he told me not the design, but when you was readie to return: and that so far from making a Misterious Secret, he told it in pre∣sence of my Mother, and before all my Women. It is certain, that as I ought also to know all from you, I doubted the truth of what Joseph told me. I thought being the Mother of your Children you was incapable of such barbarous thoughts: And in effect, without de∣terminating the matter in my mind, I waited your re∣turn. I received you then with the same Melancholie that I have alwayies had, since the death of Hireane and Aristobulus, without testifying any more: and obser∣ving all your actions, I acknowledge that I ever doubted the truth of Josephs discourse. The malice of his. Wire, made me also more suspicious: and when I was speak∣ing to you, it is true, I rather designed to informe my self of the thing, then to reproach you. For if 〈…〉〈…〉

been true that I had a particular Affection for Joseph, and that I had taken what he said, as the pure effect of of his compassion to me; I had sooner died then had spoken of it, and that unfortunate man should have also lived. Nevertheless, behold, all the Testimonies of good wil that he has got from me: no bodie sales that we have had too private correspondence together: No bo∣die saies he hath come often to my appartments; and in fine, I have done nothing for him, but what his most cruel enemie might have done, if they had known the same thing: surlie I should have rewarded him ill to tre∣at him thus. You say also that hatred and vengeance, caus∣ed me to favour Joseph, after having known your design: but know that great Spirits never fail by example. The erimes of others gives them so much horrour, that they are never more stronglic confirmed in good, then when they see evil committed: and for me, I think I should have been less innocent, if you had been less un∣just. In fine, for conclusiones, if Mariamne descended from so manie Illusturous Kings, had desired to give her affection to any, it should not have been to the husband of Salome, nor to the favorite of Herod: And if for the punishing of others crimes, she had been capable, she had not caused him be put to death, whom she believed would preserve her life. You know too well what was my wonder, when after the discourse which I made to you. I knew by your answer all was true: I was so sur∣prised, that I almost lost my speech. Nevertheless I did not foresee the Accusation which is this day made against me: And the onlie knowledge of your crime, and of Josephs innocencie, whom I exposed to your cruelties, caused all my grief. Since that Salome im∣proving that misfortune for my Ruine, as she designed long agoe, hath doubtless perswaded you, that I would attempt your life: and behold the onlie crime where∣in there can be a witness found against me, but if I be not deceived, she does more justifie then convict me: For what liklie-hood is there, that in a design of this Importance, I should have trusted a man of so low con∣dition? And what seeming truth is there, if it were true that I had correspondence with Joseph, but that it was ••••ther he then I made this proposition? Used I to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with such Persons? Hath this man come to my

Appartment? Have I set him beside you? Is he come of my Familie? Is he a Relation to any of My Officers In what place have I spoken to him? in what manner have I suborned him? Let him show the Jewels that I have given him? Make him let the money be seen that he has gotten for so great a design? For it is not Rationall, to think that upon simple hope, he would undertake the hazard of his life. It may be he will answer, that since he had no design to do the deed, but on the contrare to adverise you, he did not think of a reward. But I can say to that impostore, that not to give me reason of suspecting him, he alwayes accepted what I offered to him: And that also not having spoken, and not being able to show, is a strong and convincing perswasion of his lie: for in fine, Gold is the Complice of all Crimes and Hope is the onlie Portion of great Spirits: But for the Base and Mercenarie, they must be moved by the sight of a certain reward; otherwaies that sort of People will not serve you: And too manie Examples of your Reign, should have taught you what I say. Yet though it be true, that it cannot be made appear, that either I or mine, have had anie dealing with that man, it is not so of Salome your heart and my enemie. It is a long time since my Women foretold me of it, that contrarie to the Custome and Decorum of the qualitie she keeps to day, he often went to enter∣tain her, even in her Closer: However, because I could never stoop to take notice of such things, and by excess of vertue, did not easilie suspect others; I heard that Discourse without making anie Restection upon it. But if you would oblidge them to give ac∣count of so manie Conversations as they had together, I am assured that you would not find them answer you punctuallie. And moreover, in what place have I taken poison; who prepared it? from whence caused I bring it? And wherefore, if I had such intentiones, was it necessar to have emploied that man: was is not easie for me, when we have eat so manie times together; to have poisoned you with my own hand, without trusting 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bodie? Why should not I have attempted it at your re∣turn from Laodicea, as well as they pretend I have done after your return from Rhodes, since the unhappie Joseph discovered to me then your cruel Intentiones, as walk

as when the unfortunate Son hath told me since? In fine Herod, all those things are without likeliehood, and there is no Spirit so ignorant, who sees not clearlie, that if I were not descended from the Kings of Judea; If I were not vertuous, I should have no enemies; and my Death should not be resolved upon; I should not have sent my Picture to Anthonie; I should not have had In∣telligence with Joseph; I should not have attempted your life; and consequentlie mine should have been secure.

But because I am of too Illustrious blood, and because my Soul is too great, to suffer the baseness and unworthi∣ness of my enemies; Mariamne must die, she must pe∣rish, she must be sacrificed to the hatred of her Persecu∣tores: they desire it so, and she is resolved to it. Think not unjust and cruel Herod, that I speak with intention to incline you to pittie: I think of preserving my Re∣putation, and not of moving your heart. For as I said in the beginning of my discourse, it is neither fear of death, nor desire of life, that makes me speak to day. The first prepares Crowns for me, and the other can give me nothing but troubles. It is not then hope of escaping from the danger I am in, that makes me take care to justifie my self: I know my sentenee is signed my Executioners are readie to strik off my head, and that my Tomb is alreadie opened to receive me: But that which moved me to it, was to the end, that all who hear me, may let Posterity know, that my verie ene∣mies could not with all their malice, stain the vertue of Mariamne: Nor find a plausible pretext for con∣demning her. If I obtain this favour from them who hear me, I die almost without grief: and I shall abso∣lutlie say, without Regrate, if the Children I leave you were Banished their paternall house: For I doubt not because they are Vertuous, but that they will acquire your hatred as well as I. The complaints that they shall make for my death, will be crimes against you: You will believe they design against your life by lamen∣ting the loss of mine. Wo is me! I see them alreadie Maltreated by that slave, who was your first wife: I see them submit to the violent humor of your Son Antipa∣ter, to the calumnies of Solome, to the outrages of 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and to your own crueltie.

And perhaps these same Executioners who put me to death, will shed their blood, or to speak better, will make an end of shedding mine. I alreadie see you un∣just and cruel finishing so many Murders: But do not hope to enjoy peaceablie the Fruits of such fatal Victo∣ries. You seek a repose which you shall not find; You shall be your own Accuser, your Judge, and your Hang∣man: The Ghosts of so manie Kings as I am come of whom you have abused in my Person, shall inviron you on all parts: Those of Old Hircan and of Young Ari∣stobolus, shall disturbe all your Life: You shall alwaies see your self covered with the Blood of your Children: And the Image of Mariamne pursued by these Executi∣oners who wait on her, shall ever follow you foot by foot. You shall alwaies see that whither awake or asleep, which shall reproach you for her death: You shall have Repentance in your heart, Shame, Confusion, and Despare: You shall wish for the death you give to o∣thers: My Vertue shall appear then as pure as it is: your Crimes shall seem as great as they are: And perhaps you shall have the misfortune to repent without amend∣ing: And I doubt not, but after you have violated all Rights, Divine and Humane, some will do the same to your self. Yes, I already see the eldest of your Chil∣dren (for mine will never be capable of it) desirous to give you that poison, which you accuse me unjustlie of. I see (I say) all the Administratores of your fury, become your most cruel Enemies: Salome, Pher••••••, and Antipater, shall be most violentlie obnoxious to you: I see you hated of all People, detested of all Prin∣ces, execrable to Posteritie: and perhaps you shall be∣come then so odious to your self, that after you have; shed all the blood of your Race. Despair shall put •• Dagger in your hand, to deliver the World from so dan∣gerous an Enemie, But it may also be that your cause make an end when you would, and your shall have the misfortune to indure in this life the punishments that are prepared for you in an other. Behold, unjust and cruel Her••••••, the Prophesie which the unhappie Mari∣amne dying unjustlie, makes of you: who in this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 last day, lookes upon you rather as a Subject revolted, •••• as her Tygrant then either as her King or Husband.

THE EFFECT OF THIS DISCOURSE.

This afflicted and generous Beauty, obtained what she desired from her Husband, and from Posterity; For the first gave her death, and the other hath preserved her glo∣rie: I shall think mine great, if after so ma∣ny Ages, I could also contribute something to hers and if my Meditations were not thought unworthie of her. I would say more, if the Author of the holy Court had not said all: But as he was too carefull to leave any thing is so Noble a Field, I am too Vain to appear unprofitably there after him. It suffices that I behold his Triumph without lying me to his chariot, and I Love better to quit my Armes, then to see him amidst his Trophies.