_John_. On bold hearts Hard trials God imposes—and on thee It was imposed—— _Herodias_. To die in shame! _John_. Far better Than live in guilt. _Herodias_. Audacious! bold! _John_. What right Hast thou, O woman, from the innocent wife To steal her spouse? Thou lov’st him; is this right Enough? The robber loves his prey—doth God Absolve the robber? To the traitor dear His perfidy—and slaughter to the murderer; Are slaughter then, and treachery no crime? A strong heart is within thee. Thou hast sinned. Exert the strength then which the weak possess not: Regain the upright path whence thou hast fallen. After the murder of Zephora, tortured by the upbraiding of a guilty conscience, the queen sends again for the Prophet, to implore peace at his hands, though she is unwilling quite to renounce her sins; he on his part, thunders forth no maledictions upon her head; even his rebuke breathes the mild spirit of the religion of love. When she confesses the deed to which her fury has impelled her, he involuntarily utters an exclamation of abhorrence. _John_. Monster! _Herodias_. ’Tis not for thee To show to me the monster that I am: Better than thou, I know it. I but ask Is there a bound, which passed, excludes the wretch From God’s forgiveness? Must I, desperate, Curse heaven, and to the murders caused by me, Add thine, and others—or, my rival dead. If I now pause from blood, now reverence thee And all the just—henceforth with never ceasing And blameless deeds wipe out the horrors past— Turn all a burning spirit’s energies To work the glory of my king—my people— My God,—will this God, to compassion moved, Moved by his servant’s prayers—thy prayers—a veil Cast o’er my sin, and bless the last endeavors Of one who would be pious, but in vain Struggled against opposing evil nature? _John_. There is indeed a bound, which past, excludes From God’s forgiveness. But Zephora’s slaughter It is not—nor whate’er we can imagine Of murder yet more horrible. The limit That shuts eternally God’s pardon out, Is—to renounce repentance. _Herodias_. And I Renounce it not. Console me; oh extinguish In me this fierce remorse—this hate of all The universe—myself! _John_. Amend. _Herodias_. That word. _John_. Amend. _Herodias_. I will. {779} _John_. Remove thee from the palace; The King. _Herodias_. Such separation but Zephora Could ask. And now, whate’er my crime has been In slaying her—Zephora is no more. None can now say to me, “Herod is mine!” Is the Omnipotent a wrathful being Who claims vain sacrifices, abject baseness, And barbarous abandonment of all The heart holds dear? _John_. Thou hypocrite! the peace Of holiness thou would’st attain and joy thee Still in the fruits of sin. _Herodias_. I——