The Tragedy of Mariam

“So at his death your Eyes true droppes did raine,

Whome dead, you did not wish alive againe.

When Herod liv’d, that now is done to death,

Oft have I wisht that I from him free:

Oft have I wisht that he might lose his breath,

Oft have I wisht his Carkas dead to see.”

With these words in her opening soliloquy, Mariam reflects on the ambivalence she feels regarding Herod’s supposed execution. Before Herod went to Rome, she had actually wished that he would die and that she could see his dead body. Now she is surprising herself with the tears she is weeping for him. This is one of several ironic moments in the play, and it highlights Mariam’s powerlessness; even the fulfillment of her wishes doesn’t go as she expects it to.

“Felicitie, if when she comes, she finds

A mourning habite, and a cheerless looke,

Will thinke she is not welcome to thy minde,

And so perchance her lodging will not brooke.

Oh keepe her whilest thou hast her, if she goe

She will not easily returne againe” 

Alexandra here is telling Mariam to cheer up and stop mourning Herod. She anthropomorphizes happiness, calling it “Felicitie” and describing it as someone she has longed to meet with no luck. For Alexandra, whose father and son died at Herod’s hands, there is no question as to whether his death is just.

“In this our land we have an ancient use,

Permitted first by our law-givers head:

Who hates his wife, though for no abuse,

May with a bill divorce her from his bed.

But in this custom women are not free,

Yet I for once will wrest it, blame not thou

The ill I doe, since what I do’es for thee,

Though others blame, Silleus should allow.”

Salome explains to her lover Silleus that while Jewish law permits divorce, only a man may initiate it. She has plotted a way around that, she says, though some people might take exception to her plan. It’s noteworthy that so much of the play’s proto-feminist critique comes from Salome, its villain. While one could read this as a condemnation of the ideas themselves, it’s equally possible that Cary is pointing out the sheer force of the obstacles women face in a patriarchal society; only a woman who is willing to flout all rules and norms, she suggests, has any hope of getting her way.

“Oh, Salome, how much you wrog your name,

Your race, your country, and your husband most?

A straungers private conference is shame,

I blush for you, that have your blushing lost.

Oft have I found, and found you to my griefe,

Consorted with this base Arabian here:

Heaven knows that you have been my comfort chiefe,

Then doe not now my greater plague appear.”

Having caught Salome alone again with Silleus, her husband Constabarus expresses exasperation that she has become shameless. Her notorious behavior, he says, is bringing dishonor on the Jewish race, Judea, and especially her husband. Reminding her of what a help and comfort she has been to him in the past, he asks her if she intends to be even a greater affliction to him. Though Constabarus believes he is asking a rhetorical question, Salome actually does mean him harm; she intends to expose his disobedience to Herod and have him killed. The passage also introduces a dialogue about women’s honor that becomes increasingly important as the play progresses. Although Salome truly is an unfaithful wife, the Chorus later suggests that Mariam is “unchaste” simply for sharing her thoughts and opinions with anyone other than her husband.

“Your hand hath lifted me from lowest state,

To highest eminencie wondrous grace,

And me your hand-maid have you made your mate,

Though all but you alone doe count me base.

You have preserved me pure at my request,

Though you so weake a vassaile might constraine

To yield to your high will, then last not best

In my respect a Princesse you disdaine,

Then need not all these favours studie crave,

To be requited by a simple maide”

This is from the only speech Graphina, the bride of Pheroras, makes in the play. When he asks her why she is so quiet, she describes how wonderful it is for a common girl to marry a prince. She notes that, as a high-born lord, he could have forced himself upon her, but he respected her enough to preserve her purity and marry her; the passage therefore highlights the intersection of misogyny and social class. Notably, Salome will later use Graphina’s quietness as evidence that she may not be trustworthy, thus underscoring how even compliance with female gender norms—in this case, deference and demureness—can work to discredit women.

“Yet do I feare this tale of Herods death,

At last will prove a very tale indeed:

It gives me strongly in my minde, his breath

Will be preserv’d to make a number bleed:

I wish not therefore to be set at large,

Yet peril to my selfe I do not feare:

Let us for some daies longer be your charge,

Till we of Herods state the truth do heare.”

Constabarus, upon hearing of Herod’s death, seizes the opportunity to free the two sons of Babus whom he has kept in his protection secretly for the past dozen years. One of the sons, while expressing gratitude, is also quite cautious, since Herod has not yet been proven dead. He says that if Herod is alive, he will kill more people, which he of course does, including Constabarus and Babus’s sons themselves; Salome had her other brother, Pheroras, tell Herod about Constabarus’s secret defiance of his orders.

“Each mouth within the Citie loudly cries

That Herods death is certaine: therefore wee

Had best some subtill hidden plot devise,

That Mariams children might subverted bee,

By poisons drinke, or else by murtherous Knife,

So we may be advanc’d, it skils not how;

They are but Bastards, you were Herods wife,

And foule adultery blotteth Mariams brow.”

This is Antipater’s single speech in the play; he is the son of Herod’s first wife Doris, and he and his mother have come to Jerusalem upon hearing of Herod’s assumed death to see if Antipater might win the succession struggle. Here, he reveals that he is as ruthless as his father and aunt, and that he’s willing to murder by whatever means those who might impede his way, including his young half-brothers and sisters. Antipater’s claims about the legitimacy of Mariam and Herod’s marriage also find strong parallels in English history—for example, in the questions of succession that arose from Henry VIII’s many marriages.

“I prethee give some other quarrel ground

To finde beginning, raile against my name:

Or strike me first, or let some scarlet wound

Inflame my courage, give me words of shame,

Doe thou our Moses sacred Lawes disgrace,

Deprave our nation, doe me some despite:

I’m apt enough to fight for any case,

But yet for Salome I will not fight.”

When confronted by Silleus, who demands a duel by sword for the honor of Salome, Constabarus scorns his adversary. He says he is willing to fight for many reasons, but not for the honor of Salome, since she has none. As they parry, first with words and then with weapons, Constabarus’s speech reveals his principles and moral code; even when he defeats Silleus, he spares his life out of pity.

“Thankes noble Jew, I see a courtious foe,

Sterne enmitie to friendship can no art:

Had not my heart and tongue engaged me so,

I would from thee no foe, but friend depart.

My heart to Salome is tide so fast,

To leave her love for friendship, yet my skill

Shall be imploy’d to make your favour last,

And I will honour Constabarus still.”

Thoroughly defeated at swordsmanship, seriously wounded, and disarmed, Silleus clings to his proud love of Salome. Her husband takes pity on the man he defeated and takes him to his home to save his life. In response, Silleus here proclaims his friendship for Constabarus and promises to work for his favor. Ironically, Salome has already plotted her husband’s death, so Silleus’s pledges are futile.

“Wit may show

The way to ill, as well as good you know.”

In a play full of irony, this is one of the most ironic lines. Salome discovers that her brother Pheroras has married the lowborn Graphina. Insulting both her brother and the bride, Salome works diligently to force a wedge between the two. When Pheroras comments that, contrary to Salome’s assertion, Graphina is quite intelligent, she warns him that intelligent women can be troublemakers. Before the act is over, Salome herself has demonstrated the validity of her warning by snaring Pheroras in a plot to condemn her husband to death.

“’Tis no so hard a taske: it is no more,

But tell the King that Constabarus hid

The sonnes of Baba, done to death before:

And ’tis no more then Constabarus did.

And tell him more that he for Herods sake

Not able to endure his brothers foe:

Did with a bill our separation make,

Though loth from Constabarus else to goe.”

With these words, Salome condemns three men to death. Here, she persuades Pheroras to soothe the anger Herod is sure to feel over his marriage by telling him that Constabarus hid two young men he was supposed to kill. She justifies these actions by pointing out they are not telling a lie, but then immediately instructs Pheroras to lie that he sought a divorce decree for Salome because he could not bear her living with Herod’s enemy. The passage is therefore a good example of how Salome manipulates those who have power—namely, men—to secure her own goals.

“And must I to my Prison turne againe?

Oh, now I see I was an hypocrite:

I did this mourning for his death complaine,

And yet doe mourne, because he lives ere night.

When I his death beleev’d, compassion wrought,

And was the stickler twixt my heart and him:

But now that Curtaine’s drawne from off my thought,

Hate doth appear againe with visage grim” 

Sohemus, the King’s counselor, informs Mariam that Herod is alive and has returned to Jerusalem. When she says she is determined to confront him over his misdeeds, he begs her not to do so. Here, she tells him that it was one thing to mourn him when she thought he was dead. Now that she knows he is alive without the buffer of grief, she also knows her responsibility to confront him and will not be dissuaded. The speech both echoes and inverts Mariam’s earlier soliloquy mourning Herod, in which she noted the irony of grieving a man she had wished dead; now, she observes that she’s mourning the fact that Herod is still alive.

Poor guiltless Queene. Oh that my wish might place

A little temper now about thy heart:

Unbridled speech is Mariams worst disgrace.

And will indanger her without desart.

I am in greater hazard. O’re my head,

The fatall axe doth hang unsteadily:

My disobedience once discovered,

Will shake it down: Sohemus so shall die.” 

Sohemus tries to convince Mariam to temper her mood and remarks to Herod. When he cannot, he realizes the Queen is endangering not only her life by confronting Herod, but also his, since Herod will learn that Sohemus told her of Herod’s secret plan to kill her. Just as Josephus before him died for spilling that secret, so will he, and he uses the image of an axe hanging overhead to illustrate the ever-present danger of life under a tyrant like Herod. Nevertheless, out of love or loyalty, he does not confront Mariam with this life-or-death situation she is placing him in.

“When to their Husbands they themselves doe bind,

Doe they not wholy give themselves away?

Or give they but their body not their mind,

Reserving that though best, for others pray?

No sure, their thoughts no more can be their owne,

And therefore should to none but one be knowne.” 

This stanza from the Chorus concerns wives’ rights and responsibilities—specifically, if a woman has the right to express her disagreements with her husband, or if she must keep them to herself. The underlying question is whether or not a man, who legally “owns” the woman’s body once married, owns her mind as well. The Chorus decides that the husband must own the wife’s thoughts as well as her physical being, and consequently that Mariam is in the wrong for publicizing her discontent with Herod.

“Is this my welcome? have I longed so much

To see my dearest Mariam discontent?

What ist that is the cause thy heart to touch?

Oh speake, that I thy sorrow may prevent.

Art thou not Juries Queene, and Herods too.

Be my Commandres, be my Soveraigne guide:

To be by thee directed I will woo,

For in thy pleasure lies my highest pride.” 

Finally appearing in Act IV, Herod is distraught to find Mariam in mourning. He pledges to cure whatever sorrow has befallen her, not knowing she is about to confront him for the murders of her brother and grandfather. In this scene Herod goes from pleading to placating to condemning, and the swift reversal of fortunes this causes for Mariam gives the lie to Herod’s description of her as his “soveraigne”; it is Herod who wields real power as a man and king, and Mariam’s lies only in her ability to please him.

“I neither have of power nor riches want,

I have enough, nor doe I wish for more:

Your offers to my heart no ease can grant,

Except they could my brothers life restore.

No, had you wisht the wretched Mariam glad.

Or had your love to her bene truly tide:

Nay, had you not desir’d to make her sad,

My brother nor my Grandsyre had not died.” 

In Act IV, Mariam at last confronts Herod. His sole desire in returning to Jerusalem was to enjoy her company, and he is baffled by her mourning behavior and her unwillingness to please him. With this speech, she confronts his guilt in the murders of her brother and grandfather, at which point there is no turning back. Cornered by her accusations, Herod readily buys into the clever but shallow plot Salome has set to accuse Mariam of trying to poison Herod.

“Farewell to Jewish men the worthy store,

But no farewell to any female wight.

You wavering crue: my curse to you I leave,

You had but one to give you any grace:

And you your selves will Mariams life bereave,

Your common-wealth doth innocencie chase.

You creatures made to be the humane curse,

You Tigers, Lyonnesses, hungry Beares,

Teare massacring Hienas: nay far worse,

For they for pray doe shed their fained teares.” 

Awaiting death along with the sons of Babus, Constabarus spews a vitriolic diatribe against women, comparing them to predators and saying that even ferocious beasts at least feel sorrow for their prey. He laments that there was only one worthy and righteous woman—Mariam—and that other women have brought her low. His loathing of women stems from the duplicitous behavior of his wife Salome. With his death, he becomes the second husband she has indirectly dispatched. However, justified as Constabarus’s anger at Salome is, it’s nevertheless telling that he’s so willing to condemn all women as treacherous; as a man, he isn’t able to see the systemic forces that prevent women from wielding power except through manipulation.

“Am I the Mariam that presum’d so much,

And deem’d my face must needs preserve my breath?

I, I it was that thought my beautie such,

At it alone countermaund my death.

Now death will teach me: he can pale as well

A cheeke of roses, as a cheeke less bright:

And dim an eye whose shine doth most excel,

As soon as one that casts a meaner light.” 

Alone and waiting to die, Mariam admits she is surprised that the beauty she relied on to pave the way for her all her life has failed to keep her from death. Now she recognizes that death does not discriminate. It’s notable that Mariam depicts her previous faith in her looks as a kind of vanity; although nothing she says about death’s power over beauty is untrue, it isn’t Mariam herself but rather society at large that made her beauty such a powerful bargaining chip in life.

“This thrice three year have I with hands held up,

And bowed knees fast nailed to the ground:

Besought for thee the dregs of that same cup,

That cup of wrath that is for sinners found

And now thou are to drinke it: Doris curse,

Upon thy selfe did all this while attend,

But now it shall pursue thy children worse.” 

Doris, the first wife of Herod, finds Mariam alone as she waits to be executed. After introducing herself and condemning Mariam as an adulteress, she announces that for the past nine years she has fervently prayed that Mariam would experience the same misery and loss that she experienced. Doris rejoices that now this is coming to pass, and hopes to make Mariam’s children suffer as well. The fact that Doris likens Mariam’s plight to the dregs of a cup is significant, given that it was a cup—the one that contained the purported love potion—that placed her in this situation in the first place.

“And yet no news to Herod: were it new,

To him unhappy t’had not bene at all:

Yet doe I long to come within his vew,

That he may know his wife did guiltless fall:

And here he comes. Your Mariam greets you well.”

Mariam has chosen Nuntio to report her death to Herod. Nuntio knows that Herod did not want Mariam to die and is hoping Nuntio will tell him she is still alive. Though he balks at the duty, he also wants to see the face of the King when he says Mariam is dead; his line, “Mariam greets you well,” is a way of twisting the knife and avenging Mariam in some small way.

“Go on, she came unmov’d with pleasant grace,

As if to triumph her arrival were:

In stately habite, and with cheerfull face:

Yet ev’ry eye was moyst, but Mariams there.

When justly opposite to me she came,

She pickt me out from all the crue:

She beckned to me, cald me by name,

For she my name, my birth, and fortune knew.” 

At Herod’s request, Nuntio tells him exactly what happened during Mariam’s walk to execution. The entire crowd was moved by her stately bearing and amazed that she maintained her decorum—a detail that emphasizes the importance of female beauty even on the verge of death. As Mariam approached the executioner, she recognized Nuntio in the crowd and summoned him to ask that he be the one to tell Herod how she died.

“But Salome thou didst with envy vexe,

To see thy selfe out-matched in they sexe:

Upon your sexes forehead Mariam sat,

To grace you all like an imperiall crowne,

But you fond foole have rudely pushed thereat,

And proudly puld your proper glory downe.”

No longer able to deny that Mariam is dead, Herod casts the blame for her death solely on Salome, whom he claims was jealous of her. This may be true; it’s certainly the case that Salome hated Mariam. Nevertheless, Herod’s words are self-serving, in that they deflect from his own responsibility in Mariam’s execution. They also echo Constabarus’s earlier misogynistic diatribe; both men fault women for conspiring against one another, entirely overlooking the role that society at large plays in (for example) envy of another woman‘s beauty.

“But now I see that heaven’n in her did linke,

A spirit and a person to excel.

Ile muffle up my selfe in endless night,

And never let mine eyes behold the light.

Retire thy selfe vile monster, worse then hee

That staind the virgin earth with brothers blood,

Still in some vault of denne inclosed bee,

Where with thy teares thou maist beget a flood,

Which flood in time may drowne thee: happie day

When thou at once shalt die and find a grave,

A stone upon the vault, some one shall lay,

Which monument shall an inscription have.

And these shall be the words it shall containe,

Heere Herod lies, that hath his Mariam slaine.”

In the closing lines of his last soliloquy, Herod at last acknowledges his guilt and wretchedness. He says he is worse than Cain, who murdered his brother Abel, and does not deserve to see the light of day. He expects the inscription of his headstone to note only that he was responsible for Mariam’s death. The lines therefore prompt readers to consider what kind of epitaph the play itself is for its characters.