Still haft thou born Rome's thunder thro' the world,
And only conquer'd but to bless mankind;
Wou'd I might fay thy pity dictates here,
Muft love then be the cause ?
Who wou'd not cherish innocence like hers?
What heart, howe'er indiff'rent, wou'd not plead
So fair a caufe? who wou'd not dye to fave her?
Thus the deceitful paffion hides itself
In virtue's garb, and steals into the heart :
Thy hapless flame-
Albinus, I confefs it;
The wretched Varus dotes on Mariamne:
Thou fee'st my naked heart, which fears not thee,
Because thou art my friend: judge then, Albinus,
How muft her dangers have alarm'd my foul!
Her fafety and her welfare are my own;
Death in its uglieft form were welcome to me,
If it cou'd make my Mariamne happy.
How alter'd is the noble heart of Varus !
Love has aveng'd himself of all thy flights;
No longer do I see the virtuous Roman,
Severe and unimpaffion'd, 'midft the croud
Of rival beauties, who follicited
His wand'ring eyes, regardless of their charms..
To virtue then, thou knowft, and her alone,
I paid my vows in vain corrupted Rome
Offer'd her venal beauties to my eyes;
Their pride difgufted, and their arts difpleas'd;
Falfe in their vows, and in their vengeance cruel:
I faw their fhameless, fronts all cover'd o'er
With foul dishonour: vanity, ambition,
Caprice, and folly, bore the name of love;
Such conquests were unworthy of thy friend.
At length the pow'r I had fo long contemn'd
Indignant faw me from his eastern throne,
And foon fubdued; it was my fate to rule
O'er Syria's melancholy plains: when heav'n
Had to Auguftus giv'n the vanquifh'd world,
And Herod, midst a croud of kneeling kings,.
Fell at his feet, and fued for his protection,
Hither I came, and fatal to my peace››
Was Palæftine, for there I first beheld her..
The melancholy theme of ev'ry tongue
Was Mariamne's woes; all wept her fate,.
Doom'd to the arms of an inhuman husband,
Who flew the father of his lovely bride:
Thou know'ft what mis'ries fhe had fuffer'd fince,
Her forrows only equall'd by her virtue :
Truth, ever banifh'd from the courts of kings,
Dwells on her lips, and all the art she knows
Is but the gen'rous care to serve the wretched.
Her duty is her law; her innocence,
Calm and ferene, contemns the tyrant's pow'r,
And pardons her oppreffor; ev'n follicits
My aid to fave the man who wou'd deftroy her.
Her virtues, her misfortunes, and her charms
United, are too pow'rful for my foul;
I love her, my Albinus; but my love
Is not a paffion which one day creates,
And in another is forgotten; no:
The heart fhe has fubdu'd is not the flave
Of loofe defire, but by her virtue fir'd,
Means to revenge but never to betray her.
But if the king, my lord, has gain'd from Rome
Permiffion to return.
Alas! myfelf did move the fenate for him.
Perhaps already he returns to empire,
And this abhorred mandate is his own;
The firft fad proof of his authority:
It may be fatal to him. Varus' pow'r
May foon be loft, but O! his love remains ;
Yes, I will dye in Mariamne's cause ;
The world fhall weep her fate, and I revenge it.
HOU fee'ft, we're ruin'd; Mariamne triumphs,
And Salome's undone: that lingʼring Zares,
How tedious was his voyage, as if the sea
Unwillingly transported him! whilft Herod
Flies with the winds to empire and to love:
But sea and land, the elements, the heav'ns,
All, all confpire with Varus, to destroy me.
Ambition, thou haft plung'd me deep in woe;
Why did I liften to thy fatal voice?
I knew his foolish heart wou'd foon relent;
Ev'n now I fear he has revok'd the mandate,
And all the harveft of my toil is grief
And danger, that still wait on high condition
Stripp'd of its pow'r: already fawning crouds.
Adore my rival, and infult my fall:
My feeble glories, all eclips'd by her,
Shall fhine no more, for this new deity
Muft now be worshipp'd: but this is not all,
My death, I know, muft crown the triumph; fhe
Can never reign whilft Salome furvives;
She will not spare a life fo fatal to her.
And yet, O fhame, O infamous fubmiffion!
My pride muft ftoop to vile diffimulation,..
To footh her vanity with feign'd refpect,
And give her joy of-Salome's deftruction,.
Defpair not, Madam, arms may yet be found
To conquer this proud queen: I ever fear'd
Her pow'rful charms, and Herod's weaknefs for her;
But if I may depend on Zares, ftill
In the king's bofom dwells determin'd hate,
And he has fworn that fhe fhall die: the blow
Is but fufpended till he comes himself
To execute his vengeance; but, mean time,.
Whether his heart be sharpen'd by refentment,
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