(_To_ ALEXANDRA.) I give you greeting, and from Antony I am to make announcement that a river Cannot be brought to judgment; and a King Within whose land it flows with less of right Because he did not earth it in. (_To_ SOEMUS.) I were Long since again come hither, but when friends Together meet who seldom see each other, They hold them fast. And so ’twill be with you (I treat you with a foretaste) now I’m host And have you at the longed-for last again. And you with me must set the figs a-shaking Just as, perforce, I aided Antony, Pah, gluttony! in stream of old Falernian To smother lampreys and call many a prank From out our bygone times to jog remembrance With freshening fillip. So, resolve your mind To do like service. If I scarce may have Enough of the triumphant hero in me To have you so commanded to my presence As he commanded me to his, with show Of hearing me on some insipid charge, His brow like Cæsar’s wrinkled and his arm With lightning and with thunderbolt beweaponed, And all to be assured--this was the ground On which he did it--that I came for certain, If such be so, at least to-day’s good chance That puts you in my hands I’ll use to profit And say, as he, when speeches on your office Begin--“If you conduct it as you should It does not need your every wink o’ the eye. You come so seldom that it seems you’re loath To be here!” SOEMUS. Lord, you do me an injustice; And yet I have no cause to come too often. HEROD (_to_ SALOME). And you here too? So you have learnt at last To trick your wits, when you meet Mariamne, With fancy-thoughts that you look in a mirror And spy your own reflected counterpart? ’Twas oft my counsel when you eyed her sourly; It never pleased. Take not the jest amiss. There is no evil doing in the hour When friends are come a-meeting. But where is she? I heard it said that she was with her mother And so came here. SALOME. She went when she had learnt That you were nearing. HEROD. Went? Impossible! But good. She did it since ’tis solitude Befits reunion. (_Aside._) Heart, will you bear her anger Nor rather make amends? (_Aloud._) I follow her; Her delicate feeling’s right. SALOME. Go, self-deceiver! The fright of seeing you recalled to life, The shame of having credited your death, The greater shame of her spoiled widowhood-- O’ersmooth it all with fondling gloss of shyness The maiden feels who ne’er has known a man Nor seen the shivering woman taken in sin! She went from fear! HEROD. From fear? Look round about you, We are not here alone. SALOME.